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Bad boss and coworker stories

An Alarming Lack Of Trust

| Working | January 25, 2013

(I got a winter coat a few years ago that sets off many of my local stores’ security alarms. Most of them recognize me and know it’s just my coat. One winter’s day, I’m shopping with my daughter. Sure enough, the alarm goes off when I walk in and again after I’m leaving, but a new manager stops me.)

Manager: “Ma’am! Ma’am, you have to stop!”

Me: “I’m sorry, is something wrong?”

Manager: “You set off the security alarm so I need to go over your bags to make sure you didn’t take anything. Could I see your receipt?”

Me: “You can have the receipt, but it’s just my coat. The alarm went off when I came in too. It always does that.”

Manager: “Nonsense! The alarm only goes off when people take things!”

(He proceeds to go through all my shopping bags and check everything off on the receipt, becoming increasing frustrated.)

Me: “Can I go now?”

Manager: “No. I know you took something and you are hiding it from me! I’m calling the cops to have them search you.”

Me: “That’s ridiculous! The alarm went off because of my coat and I’m not going to waste my time because you think I took something and can’t prove it.”

Manager: “I’ll prove it once the cops get here!”

(Noticing the situation since my daughter has begun to cry, another manager wanders over.)

Manager #2: “What seems to be the problem here?”

Manager: “This lady set off the alarm, so I called the cops.”

Manager #2: “We don’t call the cops just because the alarm goes off!? What where you thinking?”

Manager: “She obviously took something. Why else would the alarm go off?”

Manager #2: “Maybe because her coat has a security tag sewn into the lining that can’t be removed and it has been setting off the alarm for the past three years?”

Me: “Can I go now, or would you like me to wait until the cops show up and explain to them what happened?”

Manager #2: “No, I got this. I’m so sorry.”

(Thankfully, the new manager quit after a month.)

The Hippocratic Loaf

| Working | January 25, 2013

(My husband is suffering from a long term illness that causes him extreme pain. One night after dinner, he collapses and I drive him to the hospital, but I can’t carry him from the car to the ER. I go inside and try and ask the receptionist for help.)

Me: “Hello! Do you have a wheel chair my husband can use? He can’t get out of the car.”

Receptionist: “Sorry, our wheelchairs are for patients only.”

Me: “Well, how is he supposed to get out of the car? He can’t walk, and I can’t carry him.”

Receptionist: “That’s really not my problem. When he checks in I can get him a wheelchair then, if he even needs one.”

(Panicked, I turn to another employee nearby.)

Me: “Please help me! I can’t get my husband out of the car and she won’t give me a wheelchair!”

(Hearing this, the receptionist shoots me a dirty look. However, the other employee just smiles.)

Employee: “I’d be more then happy to help you find a wheel chair for your husband, ma’am.”

(The employee happened to be an ambulance driver that stopped in for a cup of coffee. He not only found a wheelchair, but also helped me get my husband safely into the ER.)

Ho-bout You Stop Judging Me

| Working | January 24, 2013

(I am an IT professional. While I make a very good living, the dress code at work is pretty casual, and I dress VERY casually. Asa female, I’ve found that the men I work with and help take me a little more seriously if I’m a bit frumpy. Still, as a well-paid woman into girly things, I own expensive accessories. I stop into a local sporting goods store after work and am looking at some expensive gloves.)

Employee: “Hi, can I help you with anything today?”

Me: “No thanks, I think I know what I’m looking for. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Employee: “We have some cheaper gloves over here.”

Me: “Really, I researched what I was looking for online. I need something thin with moisture control. I’m pretty sure these are what I’m looking for  I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

Employee: “Those are pretty expensive. If you just need some gloves, we have much cheaper options over this way.”

Me: “I don’t just need gloves; I need lightweight gear for running in cold temperatures. Again, I researched what I need online: gloves, pants, tops, socks, and other items. I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

Employee: *into her headset* “Can we get security over to the glove display near the register?”

Me: “…Did you just call security on me? Why would you do that? I’ve been nothing but polite to you, and am just trying to shop.”

Employee: “You look like a hobo, and you OBVIOUSLY don’t work out. You’re just trying to steal stuff from us.”

(At this point, the manager shows up, presumably as backup for Employee #1.)

Manager: “Hey, I heard you needed some help. What can I help you with?”

Me: “Nothing. I am trying to shop for winter running gear, and your little associate here decided that I am a ‘ hobo’ who is trying to steal from you. I know what I need, and so far, I have been perfectly able to find it on my own  While I told her, twice, that I would let her know if I needed help, she decided I was a threat worthy of calling security, and, on top of that, insulted me. I’m leaving now—WITH NO STOLEN MERCHANDISE—and you can explain to her why you lost a sale that would have been a couple hundred dollars.”

(As I’m saying this, the manager looks me over and realizes, despite my frumpy appearance, some of the accessories I’m wearing are clearly not ‘hobo’-like in nature.)

Manager: *to me* “I am so incredibly sorry. Please don’t leave over this misunderstanding.” *to the employee* “You see her bag? If you knew ANYTHING, you would know that this purse cost at least $500. The earrings she is wearing are clearly real diamonds, and she’s wearing shoes that cost at least $150. Even if all that were not obvious, you have no right to call our customers hobos or insult them in any other way.  Go away and let her shop in peace.”

Employee: *slinks away* “Knock offs!”

(Thankfully, the manager found everything on my list, and I scored a very nice discount for my hassle!)

Mission: Imbossible

| Working | January 24, 2013

(I am working for the corporate end of a popular building and home supply store chain. We’ve just gotten a new manager, and I’m being bombarded with work with impossible deadlines. One Friday my boss, the new manager, approaches me.)

Boss: “So, I have these files that need to be typed up, formatted, printed, and binded in several copies by Monday.”

Me: “It’s Friday; how am I to do this without working overtime?”

(Note: I’ve been forced to work overtime several weeks in a row and reprimanded for it because of the cost to the company.)

Boss: “Well, that’s not my problem. You should know how to do this. You’re the one with the most experience. I want this on my desk Monday.”

(Sure enough, I spend all of Saturday and Sunday, working until midnight both nights. By the time I get the work done and put it on my boss’s desk Monday morning, I’m exhausted and stressed out. Not surprisingly, my boss doesn’t show up until noon time.)

Boss: “Oh, you actually got it done.”

Me: “Yes, sir. I had to stay here until midnight to do it, but it’s done and should be all in order.”

Boss: *bursts into laughter* “You actually stayed here until midnight? You’re stupid!”

Me: “…Excuse me?”

Boss: “There would be no way I would’ve done that much overtime for this. We didn’t even need it until Thursday of this week anyway. It could have waited!”

(Needless to say, not long after, I had to quit under a doctor’s advisement because my blood pressure had skyrocketed.)

A-Salt And Ornery

, | Working | January 24, 2013

(I’m pregnant and have to cut a lot of salt out of my diet. One day before I start my shift, I come in to the fast food restaurant where I work to have dinner.)

Me: “…and please make sure no salt on those fries, please.”

Coworker #1: “Sure thing. I’ve got a medium, no salt french fry!”

Coworker #2: “Sure, it’s three minutes…”

(Three minutes later, my food is up but the fries obviously are covered in salt.)

Me: “Sorry, I think there was a mistake. I need no salt on these.”

Coworker #2: “Oh! I thought you wanted extra salt! Let me put down another basket; it will be three minutes.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll just eat the rest of my food while I wait.”

(Three minutes later, my fries get brought out to me but they still have salt on them. Not wanting to start a fight with Coworker #2, who I don’t know, I take them to Coworker #1.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I think she keeps forgetting I need no salt on these.”

Coworker #1: “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

(Coworker #1 carries the fries over to Coworker #2 and shows them to her.)

Coworker #1: “Do these have salt on them?”

Coworker #2: “Well, duh! Fries come with salt, don’t they?”

Coworker #1: “Yes, they normally do, but I need a medium size fry with NO salt on them.”

Coworker #2: “I’m not going to put down another basket of fries! You’re wasting them all!”

Coworker #1: “They wouldn’t be wasted if you would just make them right.”

(I watch from the counter as Coworker #2 makes a fresh basket of fries, but once they are up, she pours four times the amount of salt on them and tries to give them to me.)

Me: “Look, I work here, and I know you are aware I asked for no salt. So, why did you purposely put three extra salts on them?”

Coworker #1: “Oh, you’re fat. It doesn’t matter what you eat!”

Me: “Yeah, it does matter what I eat because this ‘fat’ is a baby. That’s why I can’t have salt.”

(I clock in, but let it slide since my coworker doesn’t say anything more to me. Not surprisingly, she was later reprimanded for making the fries so salty that the customers refused to eat them.)