Let me tell you about what turned out to be one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. The job description was simple enough: working in a warehouse, packing up small orders for children’s toys to be shipped away. When I appeared for the interview, I knew this was going to be different; I noticed stickers on the walls of her office saying things like, “Positivity,” “Courage,” and, “Inner Strength,” as well as numerous motivational posters.

The owner hired me, and after she introduced me to her warehouse staff — all of them! — I quickly learned that she saw her staff more as family than as employees. For example, she didn’t like running operations in split shifts: we all started in the morning or we all started in the afternoon, and we all went on break at the same time. To be sure we all could make it to work, she actually bought a retired school bus that she would drive every weekday to pick us all up for work — which saved us a HECK of a lot of money on gas!

Each morning, we’d have a pep talk and review our progress as a whole; there were no separate departments. Occasionally, in the middle of the day, we would have to travel to another warehouse to pick up new shipments — and we all went as a group together.

Something I noticed throughout the warehouse was printed signs with “Self Bullying” in a red circle with a line going through it. I quickly found out what that was about when, one day, I was zoned out and realized I had screwed up an entire set of orders.

Me: “Oh, God, I’m an idiot! It’s right there, plain as day, and I screw it up like a moron!“

Immediately, my coworkers gasped and began vigorously shaking their heads “no,” like I had just used a string of profanities in front of a kid.

Owner: “Excuse me. Who said that?”

Me: *Defensively* “No, I was referring to myself. I was saying I was the idiot because…”

I started to explain my blatant error.

Owner: “I don’t care if you boxed up your muddy work boots and it got mailed to a customer. Would you have liked for me to come and scream what you said right to your face for making an honest mistake?”

Me: “No, but it was a dumb mistake—”

Owner: “I didn’t ask about the mistake. I asked you plain and simple: would you have liked it if I came and yelled what you said to your face?”

Me: “No. I wouldn’t.”

Owner: “Then why give yourself the same disrespect? Over here. This way! “

She escorted me to her office and pointed to a mirror on the wall that had a printed sign on it saying, “You are incredible!”

Owner: “Apologize to yourself. I mean it. And don’t smirk.”

I felt myself turn red as I apologized to myself in the mirror.

Owner: “Now stand there and think of ten positive things about yourself. Don’t come back until you do.”

She started to walk away.

Me: “Ten?!”

Owner: “That’s what I said.”

Having survived an abusive childhood, along with high school bullying and dealing with a serious self-image issue, I could barely come up with three! [Owner] let me back to work after about thirty minutes, despite my coming up with only six positive things. She made it clear that she wanted me to present a written list of ten positive things about myself by the end of the week — and she was serious!

It was after a few weeks of working there that I realized how much I had been subconsciously bullying myself on a consistent basis, and I realized I had to implement the same “zero-tolerance” policy at home as was enforced at work every time I had the urge to mutter to myself, “You’re such an idiot!” for leaving my fridge open or dropping juice on the floor.

Working like that as a family rather than as a group of coworkers helped me get over my social anxiety and eventually helped repair my badly damaged self-esteem.

I later learned from a close friend of [Owner]’s why she had such a low tolerance for self-bullying and was constantly promoting uplifting words. As it turns out, she had been married for nineteen years to a raging narcissist who had completely destroyed her psyche to the point where she ultimately tried to commit suicide because he had her feeling completely worthless.

Whatever therapy she went to after she’d left him DEFINITELY worked — so much so that she successfully passes it along to everyone else!

That job ranks as the best job I’ve ever had — and probably ever will have.

This story is part of our end-of-year Feel Good roundup for 2022!

Read the next Feel Good 2022 story!

Read the Feel Good 2022 roundup!

Big Bob was one of the sweetest, nicest guys you would ever encounter. That being said, he was also the most boneheaded. He was one of the floaters who would fill in here and there where help was needed in installing, the warehouse, and the workshop.

One day, our owner had piles of files that needed to be destroyed due to customer-sensitive material. Instead of calling a shredding company, they decided it would be best to take a metal barrel outside and burn the paperwork. That was a separate issue all in itself. Big Bob was put in charge of said task.

At one point in the day, I went outside to track down one of the warehouse guys and was treated to the vision of Big Bob’s car blasting country music, smoke billowing out of the metal barrel, and Big Bob himself walking through all the ash and smoke shirtless like someone out of a music video. I was hard-pressed not to laugh as I scolded him.

Me: “You should keep your shirt on since you’re playing with fire!”

Big Bob: “But it’s hot!”

When I came to work the next day, I noticed that our plastic dumpster lid was bent seven ways to Sunday and looked melted. When I asked what happened, I was told that once the burning of files was done and all the paper was a smoldering pile of ash, Big Bob had decided to dump the still-hot remains IN THE DUMPSTER. Surprise, the metal barrel was still hot from its long day of burning, and Big Bob had grabbed it with no gloves. He had grabbed it quickly, so he didn’t feel the error of his decision until said barrel was over the dumpster, and he dropped it, barrel and all, into the dumpster. In no time flat, the dumpster and all its contents caught on fire, melting the lid.

Again, Big Bob was the sweetest guy, which was probably why he kept his job, but from then on, he was not allowed near fire, and we disposed of our important documents properly.

Warehouse work usually isn’t difficult — shipping/receiving, cleaning, pulling orders, using forklifts, and so on. The work itself isn’t hard, but sometimes those truck drivers you have to deal with can be a real pain in the back.

I am busy working on small parcels going out via [Shipping Company]. The parcel shipping station is about ten feet away from the shipping desk where truck drivers go when they show up for deliveries. While I’m doing this, a truck driver shows up at the shipping desk. He stands there for maybe sixty seconds as I finish the order I’m working on.

I grab a last-minute order that’s come through to ship out, and I take the order form and head out to the warehouse to pull the order. I address the truck driver on my way past him.

Me: “I’ll be with you in just a couple of minutes.”

Truck Driver: “I’ve already been waiting here for over twenty minutes.”

He starts to raise his voice as he continues.

Truck Driver: “I don’t understand why it’s so hard to get help around here!”

I stop in my tracks and turn to face the driver.

Me: “You’ve been standing there for about sixty seconds, not twenty minutes. I don’t appreciate your attitude, and now it’ll be longer before you get help from me.”

Truck Driver: “I won’t be treated like this, making me wait! It’s already been over twenty minutes! I want to speak to the manager!”

Me: “Go right ahead. He’s sitting in the office, right behind you.” *Points*

The truck driver’s eyes get wide and he slowly turns around to see my manager, who has stood up from his desk and is now standing in the doorway of his office.

Manager: “I don’t like your attitude. [My Name] told you he’d be right with you, and you decided to lie about how long you’ve been standing there. You’ve been in here now for maybe three minutes. You can either wait there patiently until we get around to helping you, or you can go sit in your cab and we can come and get you when we’re ready to help you.”

The truck driver didn’t say anything else and just walked out to his cab and waited for us to get him.

It is our busiest time, and I have at least a dozen projects waiting for me, all of which will take a long time to do. At this moment, my boss accidentally knocks over a glass bottle behind some shelves. It’s at an angle where I have to do some fancy gymnastics to reach it, so when I grab it — you guessed it — I cut my hand quite deeply.

Boss: “Wait, you should see to that.”

Me: “I don’t have time to bleed!”

Our forklift has been down for sixty-two days, with several repair bills, many new parts, and no end in sight. This ticket crossed my desk today.

Ticket: “Maintenance Request Ticket:

• Equipment: forklift.
• Problem: forklift.
• Parts request: Ruger American Predator, 50-round bag .223 ammunition.
• Estimated time to fix: 2 minutes until we can finally admit defeat and buy a working forklift.
• Approval: DENIED.”

No end in sight.