You’re Being Followed

, , , , , | Working | December 15, 2017

(I work on a customized double decker bus that helps people at night. One of our volunteers is notorious for having the worst farts ever.)

Volunteer #1: *farts*

Shift Leader: “ABANDON SHIP!”

(Everyone leaves to escape the gas except one volunteer who was upstairs, thinking he was safe. A minute passes…)

Volunteer #2: *sprints down the stairs and out the door choking* “IT FOLLOWED ME UPSTAIRS! I THOUGHT I WAS SAFE!”

Poor Megan…

, , , , | Working | December 15, 2017

(We just got off a tour of a zoo.)

Driver/Guide: “Thank you for coming to [Zoo]. If you liked the tour, my name is [Name]. If you didn’t, my name is Megan, and get off my bus.”

Mentally Unfit To Be A Manager

, , , | Working | December 15, 2017

(I have been in my new job for about a month. Everything has been great, but one morning my boss pulls me aside after a meeting.)

Boss: “I’m shocked at how inconsiderate you are of [Coworker]’s mental illness. It’s very important that you accept it.”

Me: “I… I didn’t know she had a mental illness.”

Boss: “You should have!”

Me: “But, neither she nor anyone else has told me. How was I supposed to know?”

Boss: “Isn’t it obvious!”

(He turns around and looks at Coworker. She notices and waves back. He waves, too, and mumbles “riddled with it.” He then demands I go over and apologise. I do, and she looks at me confused.)

Coworker: “What are you going on about?”

Me: “[Boss] said I wasn’t very considerate towards your mental illness?”

Coworker: “I don’t have a mental illness!”

Other Coworker: “Maybe he means the other thing?”

Coworker: “Oh, probably. He is quite stupid.” *to me* “I was diagnosed with HIV five years ago. I don’t usually spread it around, but I guess [Boss] outed me!”

(She seemed it high-spirits, even laughing at Boss’s blunder. I wish I had that kind of understanding, as I probably would have quit.)

You Made A Gross(ery) Error

, , , , | Working | December 15, 2017

(I am standing in line at the checkout behind a mother with a daughter of about three and an infant in a sling. The older child is “helping” to put groceries on the belt, but due to her small stature, a lot of them land on the floor. I pick them up for her because it is obviously difficult for her to bend over, and she thanks me pleasantly each time. After about the fifth item to hit the floor, the cashier at the next register starts to scold the child, calling her a brat. That’s when momma bear mode kicks in.)

Mom: *to Cashier* “Stop talking and walk away.”

Cashier: “But—”

Mom: “No. Listen to me. I just got out of the hospital after a very difficult labor. I’m restocking my groceries and my daughter is trying to be helpful.”

Cashier: *stammers*

Mom: “NO! I SAID STOP TALKING AND WALK AWAY. If you open your mouth one more time, I will take that as a verbal agreement that you are granting me permission to punch you in the face as hard as I possibly can.”

Cashier: *stammers*

Mom: “I SAID SHUT IT, AND WALK AWAY! I just had a person come out of my body. My tolerance for pain is through the roof! Do. Not. F***. With. Me or my kids!”

Me: “Would you like me to hold your baby for you before you start swinging?”

(The cashier turned bright red and walked away without another word. The mother burst out half laughing and half crying. I helped her out to her car and loaded up her groceries. She thanked me profusely the whole time. Her daughter and my daughter have a play date scheduled for next week.)

Racism Will No Longer Be Accepted For Delivery

, , , , , , , , | Working | December 14, 2017

(I work as a receptionist for a small video editing company. The boss is the epitome of evil, a real piece of s***. She seems to really have it out for our delivery man, who is African-American. We have a table in the lobby with a book where all packages going out are written down. The delivery man is supposed to come by, check the table, and pick up any packages that are there. The table is in front of a large window and it is pretty obvious if there are any packages going out. The boss storms in and angrily asks:)

Boss: “Is the delivery guy coming in and getting the packages?”

Me: “He is checking daily, yes.”

Boss: “That isn’t what I asked. Is he physically coming into the building?”

Me: “Well, no. If the table is empty he—”

(The boss storms off and gets on the phone and calls, screaming at the poor customer service person. My boss gets so obsessive that she even starts checking the surveillance cameras to make sure he comes into the lobby and doesn’t just open the door and peek in. She insists that he come all the way into the lobby, close the door behind him, stand at the table for a few seconds, and then leave. I am getting more than annoyed by this. She calls almost daily, screaming about the poor guy. One day he calls me because he is running behind and asks if there are any packages. I tell him he is in luck; not only are there none, but the boss is out that day. The next day he comes in and the boss is there to yell at him again. She has checked the surveillance tapes. When he leaves, she comes to my desk and says that he had better just do his job.)

Me: “You know that these delivery guys only have so much time to deliver, and any place they can shave off a few seconds really helps them.”

Boss: “I don’t care. The only thing that n***** should say, is, ‘Yeth, Masta.’”

(Then she storms off to call and complain again. I am in too much shock and, shamefully, I say nothing. I am gone by the next week. I get a great job as a receptionist at a company a few miles down the road, and who should walk in my first week there but the delivery guy, with a trainee in tow. We greet each other like old friends.)

Delivery Guy: “I am so glad to see you here away from that awful woman.”

Me: “I am, too. I am so glad I got to see you! And I am so sorry for the horrible way she treats you.”

Delivery Guy: “I just don’t know what her problem is.”

Me: “You don’t know?” *he shakes his head, and I quietly tell him, embarrassed* “It’s because you are black.”

(He and the trainee both look shocked.)

Me: “She would not have given you any trouble if you were white. She only called and made up ridiculous complaints because she hated you because of the color of your skin. She is a horrible racist. I can’t even begin to repeat the horrible racist comments she would make when you left the building or after she would get off the phone with customer service complaining about you. I just couldn’t stand being there anymore, which is why I left.”

(He shakes my hand and leaves. The next week, he comes in without the trainee.)

Me: “Hello, again! Is your trainee out on his own?”

Delivery Guy: “That wasn’t my trainee; that was my manager. You saved my job.”

Me: “What? How?”

Delivery Guy: “That blasted ex-boss of yours called and complained so much that when a normal and justified complaint came in, the company was going to fire me. The manager was going around with me to see what I was doing wrong and if I was even going to have the chance to keep my job. After we left here, he told me I was good, and there would be no more talk about it. As a matter of fact, the delivery company cancelled your ex-boss’s contract and told her they would no longer deliver for or to her. She will have to drive to the hub to get any packages that are mailed to her.”

(I was so thrilled. Several years later I got to congratulate him on a well-deserved promotion before I left on maternity leave.)

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