I used to teach at a primary school, I loved those kids, even the ones that were naughty or cheeky. What I hated was the parents — so many, rude, obnoxious, apathetic individuals who wanted us to parent their children for them.

The one I actually despised was a mother to one of the boys in my class. There was no other word for it: she was trashy. She would rock up to collection, late again, still wearing the dressing gown and slippers she dropped him off in. Her boy would never have the full equipment; he’d be missing sunscreen, a hat, water bottle, etc. But she’d always stink of cigarettes.

She was aggressive, too; nothing bad could be said about her boy, yet she clearly didn’t spend any time with him. Homework was never done, he was never read to, etc.

After he left my class, I bumped into his mum wearing another one of her dressing gown combos, despite it being 1:00 pm on a weekday.

Mother: “Oh, hiya. You were [Son]’s teacher.”

Me: “Oh, hi. Yeah, I have to go. Got to get to work.”

Mother: “Oh, I see how it is. No time for me now. Think you’re better than me.”

A million things went through my head. I could have de-escalated it. But instead, I answered.

Me: “Yes, I think I probably am. In fact, most people are. You’re rude, aggressive, and trashy. If you put any effort into your own child, he would actually do wonderfully well. But your own ego won’t let you. Get a job, have a wash, and parent your children.”

This caught her by surprise. I was a few steps away before she managed to put a sentence together.

Mother: “You little b****! How f****** dare you?! I will get you f****** fired. You b****, you f****** b****!”

Me: “Good luck with that.”

Of course, I had long left the school, mainly because of the treatment we received from people like her, and because I was totally unsupported and ignored by the office team — the same office staff [Mother] will be on her way to shout at. Best of luck.

Every time the weather gets bad, the staff from the office next door use the alcove under my office window for their smoke breaks. Frankly, it stinks, they never pick up after themselves, and I’m sick of having to hear them loudly gossip and cackle to themselves.

I complained to the building manager and to the other office’s building company, but any change was only temporary. I considered many things that would only get me into trouble. I couldn’t even accidentally spill water on them as there is a lip.

So, I got petty, really petty. Every time I heard them, I recorded who was there and when, and more importantly, for how long.

I requested information about a job vacancy they had open, and soon, I had everything I needed.

I sent my list of all the long breaks the employees were taking. I even had their names as they were so loud. Better yet, because all the email addresses started with “firstname.lastname” and their names were on the “Contact Us” page of their website.

I was able to CC them in.

Suddenly, no one smoked under my window and my office stopped stinking of old smoke.

I’m working away, fixing one of the rebuilds. I get it done and send it down the line. What should happen is the next one automatically rolling into the station, but nothing comes.

I look up the line and it looks like the line is full. So, what’s the hold-up?! I go to the previous station to ask the guy what’s going on.

Me: “Hey, what’s with the delay?”

Worker: “Yeah, I’m doing it.”

He isn’t; he is on his phone, just kind of spaced out.

Me: “Well, you should be two in front of me. Why are you so behind? Did something happen? I’ve got no work.”

Worker: “I said I’m doing it!”

Fine, whatever. He should know what he’s doing; he’s been here long enough. I grabbed a drink and went back to my station.

I waited a while — still no work. I headed back to the previous station again. When I got there, the guy was just standing there, listening to music. It looked like he hadn’t done a thing.

I let my manager know my numbers were going to be down and why. I didn’t see it happen, but the guy got dragged into the office, apparently stinking of weed, and he had no idea why everyone was annoyed at him.

He refused a drug test, refused any help, and refused to give up his car keys.

What was going to be a written warning and suspension turned into getting the police called to stop him from driving away and ultimately led to him being fired on the spot.

One of the managers has to take some time off for urgent “family matters”. The details are quite sad and you would think people would get on and do what they could to take the load off him or at least not give the guy more stress.

But not [Employee]. [Employee] doesn’t care about anything past his nose. I’ve had the joy of dealing with him while his actual manager spends most of his time at home.

Me: “[Employee], your numbers are terrible this month. What’s going on?”

He just shrugs.

Me: “No, seriously. You’ve done less than anyone. What’s the issue?”

Employee: “The machine keeps playing up.”

Me: “When did you highlight it?”

He just looks at me funny.

Me: “When did you tell someone that it was playing up”

Employee: “Not my job, is it?”

Me: “Your job, [Employee], is to follow the work instructions. On every work instruction is the contact details of maintenance, who it states must be contacted in case of issues with machinery.”

Employee: “No, it doesn’t, and even if it does, how am I supposed to contact them when I’m stood here?”

I get the work instruction, find the one he signed, and point out the bold print.

Me: “‘Contact maintenance on [number] or tell [Supervisor].’”

Employee: “Well, I didn’t see that.”

Me: “Nope, you saw it, and I know you’ve raised issues before. I’m passing you over for a write-up.”

Employee: “That’s bulls***. [Manager] would never write me up.”

Me: “Guess what? He’s not here. I am.”

Employee: “Well, I’ll call him.”

Me: “You dare, and I will have you written up for that, as well. He is not to be disturbed and you know d*** well why.”

He stormed off. I passed the details to Human Resources. As I was talking to them, they got a call from [Manager]. Apparently, [Employee] called him several times. When he answered and told him to stop calling, [Employee] hit him with a barrage of profanity.

The write-up I put forward wasn’t needed; they fired [Employee] without it. He was gone before the end of the day.

My local supermarket is inside a larger shopping centre. As I enter the centre, a bunch of teens are messing around on the stairs — jumping off, kicking things down it, and getting in people’s way.

I push my way through when they try to stop me but I can see others are intimidated by them, and my words do nothing.

I see the supermarket’s customer service desk and go over.

Me: “Hey, could you get security over to the stairs? A bunch of kids are being a nuisance.”

Worker: “Well, those aren’t owned by [Supermarket]; they are managed by [Shopping Centre].”

Me: “Yeah, but I’m guessing you have the ability to contact them?”

Worker: *Suddenly full of attitude* “Well, yeah, I guess. But it’s not my job.”

Me: “Your customers are being harassed, and you don’t feel bothered enough to make a phone call?! Is there someone else I can talk to?”

Worker: “Fine, whatever, I’ll do it.”

I stand and wait. She doesn’t move. Realising that I’m not going anywhere, she picks up the phone next to her, and without saying anything, she shortly puts down the phone.

Worker: “They’re coming.”

Me: “Great, I will wait.”

She huffs and picks up the phone again, pushes a button, and talks to someone. I can hear her describe what’s going on.

Worker: “Yeah, some kids or something.” *Pauses* “The stairs.” *Pauses* “Yeah, whenever. Don’t run down here.” *Pauses* “Yeah, someone is complaining.” 

She hangs up and turns to me.

Worker: *To me* “Happy now?”

Me: “Ecstatic, thank you.”

I did my shopping and exited by the stairs. I saw the same bunch of kids being seen to by a first-aider. Looks like one of their jumps landed badly. If only there was some way of preventing it.