(We have a new employee to the store, who transferred from another store but has spent two years with the company.)

Employee: “Hey, I think they are holding to much money out of my check.”

Me: “Do you know what you have as withholdings? Like, your federal and state taxes?”

Employee: “No. Shouldn’t the tax rate be 8%?”

Me: “No, that is the sales tax rate, not the federal and state tax, and how long have you worked for us?”

Employee: “Two years. Did they change it from 8%?”

Me: “No. You should have federal, state, FICA, insurance, etc. coming out of your check. I am quite sure it is closer to 40% of your check being gone.”

Employee: “So how do I get it to 8%?”

Me: “Call the president of the USA, and tell him.”

(I work in a restaurant doing food preparation. Our stations are situated behind the line where food is actually cooked, but there is a window in the partition that is open so we can communicate with each other. Note that I am fairly new and haven’t yet grasped all the kitchen terminology.)

Cook #1: “Can I get pans team to line?”

Me: *to another coworker* “Did he just say ‘dance team to line’?”

(Everyone in earshot erupts with laughter. The cooks from the pans team come up behind us, shuffling on their feet to get by.)

Cook #2: “Hey, we’re dancin’, aren’t we?”

(They just put a new dealership in near my home for my brand of car. Needing a minor part, I drive over to check the place out, where I fell into conversation with the service manager.)

Service Manager: “Where have you been getting your car repaired?”

Me: “At [Well-Known Dealership].”

Service Manager: “You should never go there! They’ll totally rip you off! I just came here from [Well-Known Dealership] and I ripped off tons of people while I was there!”

Me: “…”

(I am picking up a pizza for carryout.)

Manager: “Your total will be $[total]”

Employee: “Hey, boss! Which one of these goes on the bread sticks?”

(The employee is holding two different containers. One is labeled “Bread stick seasoning”)

Manager: “That one. The one that says… bread sticks on it.”

Employee: “Thanks, boss!” *goes back to food prep*

Manager: “I… can’t believe I was just asked that question.”

(I have been working at a tool warehouse for about two months and am hating it. My boss constantly shouts and criticizes me for everything, He has just asked me to sort a large tray of screwdriver heads into a small filing cabinet that is, max, two feet off the ground. I am kneeling.)

Boss: “[My Name]! What the f*** are you doing! You can’t sit on the floor in front of customers. Get the f*** up!”

(I get up and begin sorting whilst bending over.)

Boss: “What the f*** are you doing now! Did you not learn anything in health and safety? You can’t bend like that!”

Me: “So, what am I to do if I can’t sit kneel or bend?”

Boss: “I don’t care. Just do it. Pick it up if you have to.”

(The cabinet weighs a ton and I can’t pick it up, but I try nonetheless.)

Boss: “Are you f****** stupid! Don’t pick that up. It’ll cripple you!”

Me: “So don’t pick up, don’t sit, don’t kneel, don’t stand… What do I do?”

Boss: “F****** kill yourself, please. It’ll do me a favour!”

(The whole room goes silent and looks.)

Me: “Fine, then.”

(I pick up the tray which contains literally thousands of heads all sorted according to size and throw it over the back of my head, covering the floor in them.)

Me: “I quit.”