I once worked in an office where I built apps for large businesses. My boss was a frat boy and never seemed to have grown out of it, and a few of our clients were in his fraternity. As you might imagine, this led to a lot of bad behavior.

One client was the absolute worst — just a complete sexist pig — but I would suck it up because I was young and well-paid, so I didn’t want to mess things up. One day, that all changed.

Client: “Hey, [My Name], how’s it going?”

Me: “Fine.”

Client: “The app is looking great! I’d love to take you out sometime to thank you.”

Me: “That’s not necessary. Thanks, though.”

Client: “Come onnn! It’s just dinner! Plus, if you keep up the good work, I may have to steal you and hire you on for in-house work.”

Me: “Really, no, thank you. And I’m not looking to leave [Company] right now.”

I realized then I was thirsty, so I got up with my water bottle to go refill it. I brushed past the client, but one of his hands cupped my butt cheek. I immediately whipped around and punched him in the nose.

Client: “Ow! What the—”

Me: “You touched my a**, right in front of my coworkers and a camera! You’d better be ready to hear from my lawyer.

I didn’t have a lawyer yet, but I knew I would. Just then, my boss came out.

Boss: “[My Name], come here.”

I stormed into his office, naively hoping he would side with me.

Boss: “Why did you just punch [Client]?”

Me: “Because he grabbed my a**!”

Boss: “That’s not a good enough reason. He’s reported you have an attitude with him any time you two talk. Because of these repeated issues, I’m going to have to fire you immediately.”

Me: “You can’t be serious.”

Boss: “Look, you’re a beautiful woman. I would have grabbed your butt, too, if it were that close to me.”

Me: “You would what?!”

And that’s how I ended up suing both my ex-employer and the client, winning enough money from the settlements that I won’t owe a dime while I go to law school so I can help more women in my situation.

My grandparents recently moved to an assisted living facility due to their health declining as they reached their late eighties. I had just finished visiting them and was walking out the door when I tripped over a large floor mat that had frayed on one spot. I stumbled forward but caught myself. I didn’t think much of it as I walked back to my car, but then a thought occurred to me. I about-faced and walked back inside and went to the office.

Me: “Excuse me. I just tripped over a worn-out spot on your doormat. If I can almost fall, then one of your elderly residents…”

I didn’t even have to finish before the three staff members leaped out of their chairs, rushed out, rolled up the damaged mat, and took it away.

When I was eleven, my great-grandmother tripped over a mat just like that one at the age of ninety-seven. The injuries she obtained from that hastened the decline of her health, and she died shortly after her ninety-eighth birthday, so I know how something that seems like a minor nuisance to a guy in his twenties is a serious hazard to the elderly residents of this facility. With so many stories of inattentive caregivers and poorly run old folks’ homes, it was nice to see employees that took their job seriously and to have the knowledge that my grandparents were well taken care of.

Parking has always been kind of an issue at my workplace. We’re landlocked and cannot, per city ordinance, expand out anymore to add stuff. We do have a chunk of area on the northwest corner of the lot that has room to add a small parking area, but that area of the lot is on a hill that slopes down toward the building. In the lawn, there is a drain with a big metal grate that sits at the bottom of the hill for rain and snow melt to go.

On the northwest side of the building is a side entrance that workers can use to come into the warehouse and packing area. Ownership figured adding some additional parking at that spot would let some of the packers park right by an entrance and they wouldn’t have to walk very far.

Ownership and the maintenance team worked together for a while. They all drew up a plan that would best fit for a parking area in the available space we had, and ownership pulled the trigger on getting the work done. A few months back, they got some bids and went with a construction company that would be able to handle all our needs.

Fast forward a few months. Construction has begun.

For the past few days, a construction crew has been in.

Day 1: They’ve been digging up the ground, grading it, and making things nice and smooth. The plans for the construction work call for them to dig up the drain in the lawn, fill it in, and pour blacktop over it.

Day 2: A new long concrete curb is poured in and left to set.

Day 3: The crew comes back and puts down the new blacktop, getting it nice and smooth, and things look great!

Work is done, the new parking area is finished, and now things have to set for a few days before anyone can officially park on it.

Here’s where it gets funny… on a sad and pathetic level.

No one, out of the eight to ten people who had their hands in the drawing up of the new parking area, thought about water runoff. The new parking area has an entrance driveway and an exit driveway, both of which slope downhill into the parking area. The ground right up to the entrance has been poured with new concrete and blacktop, and the area was graded to slope directly to the side entrance. This leaves water from rain or melting snow to build up and run into the building.

This $20,000 to $30,000 job was set up to fail because maintenance and ownership did not think to include a drain for water runoff. They had the construction company remove and fill in the original runoff drain but never had them add a new one.

Now, maintenance has to dig up new concrete and blacktop and then dig through the grass leading to the closest drain-off point. We’ll need to pay for the construction company to come back out and pour new concrete again and fix the blacktop.

You can’t make this stuff up.

I’m not an engineer, and I don’t work in construction, but I know why roads have a crown in them, and I understand why there’s a slight downward grade in parking lots that leads to a drain. You need a spot for water runoff to go!

I’m nineteen. We’ve just had a really busy time at my work, and we’ve all been rewarded with a cash bonus and some extra paid holiday. Ker-ching!

I decided to visit my parents and got a train early on my newly free Friday. It was very busy, but the First Class section was completely empty. Since I was flush with cash, I decided to sit there and pay the £20 upgrade cost.

I sat down at a table, put my ticket and a £20 note on it, and settled down for three hours of dozing. As the train pulled out of the station, the tea trolley guy appeared. The First Class upgrade included a free cup of tea, so when he came up to me, I smiled at him and started to ask for one.

Trolley Guy: “NO! Tea and coffee are only for legitimate First Class people.”

Me: “Oh, I thought it was included in the upgrade?”

Trolley Guy: “Don’t be rude to me! It’s only for people who have paid for First Class!”

Me: “Oh, never mind, then. The guard hasn’t taken my money yet. I’ll catch you on your way back after I’ve bought the upgrade.”

Trolley Guy: “Freeloader. You disgust me. Rude!”

I was a bit confused, but okay, there had been a misunderstanding, and I was upgrading for a seat and leg room and quiet, not for a £20 cup of tea, so never mind.

The guard appeared.

Guard: “This area is for First Class passengers only.”

Me: “Yes, I’d like to upgrade, please. Here’s my ticket and my £20.”

I pointed at both on the table.

Guard: “You can’t just sit here, you know. The train might be busy, but this carriage is for First Class only.”

Me: “One upgrade to First Class, please!” *Hands him the £20*

Guard: “I could make you move to Standard Class, you know. You’re not entitled to sit here.”

Me: “I’d like to upgrade to First Class, please. Here’s my £20.”

Guard: “Fine, then. Fine.”

He handed me my upgrade ticket and snatched my £20.

The trolley guy appeared.

Trolley Guy: “Where did you get that upgrade ticket from?”

Me: “I bought it from the guard. I’d like a cup of tea, please.”

Trolley Guy: “No. You’re rude.”

We reached the next station. The train was now full to bursting, and a bunch of people piled into First Class. The guard appeared and asked them for their tickets.

New People: “There’s no space, so we’re sitting here and not paying you for it.”

Guard: “That’s fine. I understand.”

Me: “Hi there! I’d like my money back. If others aren’t paying, neither should I, to be honest.”

Guard: *Shouting* “THIS BOY IS INSISTING THAT THE REST OF YOU LEAVE AND STAND IN SECOND CLASS.” *Leaves*

Everyone else looked like they could kill me.

Trolley Guy: “Any free tea or coffee for people in here?”

Me: “I’d like a cup of tea, please.”

Trolley Guy: “LEGITIMATE CUSTOMERS ONLY! You’re so rude!”

He then served everyone else. I never got my cup of tea.

I did, however, complain to the train company after I arrived home. I got a cash refund for my fare, two First Class upgrade vouchers, and an apology.

What I never got was any explanation of what I did to provoke this nonsense, except for being only nineteen… and for not being white.

I had two twin mattresses that I needed to throw away, so I called my local trash service.

Receptionist: “[Township] trash, this is [Receptionist]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Hi. I have two twin mattresses I’d like to have picked up.”

Receptionist: “We can only take one large item per household per week. I can put you down for two weeks in a row, though.”

Me: “Okay, that works. Thank you!”

My husband and I lugged both mattresses outside the night before pickup, leaning one against the side of the house next to the front door and the other on the back of our car.

The garbage truck came as usual, but this time, a man got out and came to our door. He pounded on the door until I opened it.

Me: “Yes?”

Man: “You know it’s only one item per house per week?”

Me: “I do.”

Man: “So, why do you have two mattresses out?”

I pointed to the mattress beside the door.

Me: “This one is for pick-up next week.”

The man sighed, grabbed the second mattress, lugged it down to the garbage truck, and threw it in the back on top of the first mattress. I don’t know what he heard when I was talking, but at least I got rid of both mattresses at once!