A woman is ordering at the drive-thru, ordering dinner to take home to her family.

Customer: “My daughter is a vegan. Do you cross-contaminate your food?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Well, could you? She’s being a real b**** lately.”

I worked at a call center for a water company. I received a call from a sweet-sounding old lady who had her water disconnected for nonpayment, like, a LOT of nonpayment.

After I explained to her the minimum payment that would be required to get the water reconnected:

Caller: “I’m a good Christian woman who goes to church every week, and if you don’t turn my water back on immediately, then God will curse you.”

She said it in the sweetest voice, which made it creepier.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t send someone out unless you agree to the minimum payment today.”

Caller: “Well, then you’d better be careful driving home because God is going to get you.” *Click.*

I’m an atheist, but I still drove extra carefully that night, just in case…

For those that don’t know, a rollator is basically a walker on wheels. I had a stroke six years ago, and my balance and vision got messed up. I can walk maybe twenty to twenty-five feet on a flat surface without help, but I need my rollator to take long walks, and I take it with me whenever I go somewhere.

I normally have weekly groceries delivered to me at my apartment, but every month or six weeks, depending on schedules, my mom will take me to a specialty grocery store, where I can get a lot of pre-packaged meals that I just have to put in the microwave for a while.

We were on one of these trips and were waiting in line checking out. The rollator that insurance covers was a piece of cheap white plastic, so last Christmas, my mom bought me one that is black steel and titanium in composition. It also has a pouch on the back for storing things, and when I need a break, I can lock the wheels, and it has a fold-out bench I can sit on.

So, while my groceries were being checked out, I folded out the bench and sat down waiting. When we were done, I got up and unlocked the wheels while my mom rolled out my cart of groceries. I had barely gotten five feet when a lady walked up and grabbed my rollator, saying, “I’ll take this”.

I said “no” and jerked it away from her and proceeded to follow my mom out to the parking lot.

Usually, my mom will load the groceries in the car, while I leave the rollator on the side and walk my way to the passenger’s seat. After loading the groceries, my mom collapses the rollator and puts it on top of the groceries.

This lady followed us out to the car and was waiting there, tapping her foot, while we loaded the groceries. I didn’t trust her, so I just stood holding the rollator. My mom said, “Go ahead, get in, it’s unlocked,” and I just shook my head no and tried to subtly point at the lady as to why I wasn’t getting in. Mom understood and finished loading the groceries.

When she was done, she came up to me, folded down the rollator while I walked to the passenger side door. Mom folded down the rollator, put it on top of the bags in the car, and was closing the door when the lady started shrieking about how we were stealing store property.

A manager-type came out and asked what was going on. The lady screamed about how we were “stealing” the rollator, and she needed to use it. The manager asked my mom about it, and she said it was mine and even showed him the plaques bolted on that had my name, emergency contacts, and medications, and the schedule I was on in case I needed them.

The lady kept screaming that she needed it now that we were done. The manager told her that it was mine, it had information on it that pertained only to me, and that if she needed help, they could find her a mobility scooter or something

She didn’t like this and suddenly went from a shrieking harpy to sweet old lady, saying, “Well, maybe she could leave it here, and I could use it and leave it when I am done for them to come back and get.”

The manager asked, “Would that be okay with you?” and my mom, knowing we would never see it again, said that we couldn’t; we had other places to go where I would need it.

The lady began screaming again while we just drove off. I don’t know how it ended up for the manager, but I hope he survived it.

Working in a low-paying job at a restaurant that is part of a nationwide chain is a job most people don’t expect to have forever or to be just fun. Having said that, the first job I ever had, back in the 2000’s, was quite okay when I started there.

Then a new manager took over. I wouldn’t go as far as saying he was a stereotypical inept boss from Hell, but he certainly was not a genius either. Or very charming and tactful.

Within the first few months, he did not renew quite a few contracts. His predecessor could be tough to work with now and then, but this guy seemed to base his decisions a lot more on who had the guts to talk back and such. Most of them might not have gotten permanent contracts, but with how the law worked back then, plenty of people who could have easily worked there a few more years were suddenly gone. 

Morale got lower, and meanwhile the more experienced employees started finishing college and moving on to new fields. Within a year, we were a complete mess, and people started to leave because they got fed up with how people had been treated or how they were carrying far too much on their shoulders, while the manager only got angrier and nastier because of the stress.

On the level of his tact, well, there is this particular anecdote. A coworker in her forties is in her final month after the manager decided not to renew her contract. I won’t really know about how good she was, but as can be expected, she did not like the decision. 

To be fair, she was grossly insulted. On this particular day, the coworker in question is standing behind the till. [Manager] walks up with a bunch of flyers.

Manager: “If you see anyone with ambitions…”

The flyers he put on her counter were recruitment flyers. He actually expected her to hand out these flyers to customers in the hope of getting new applicants.

Those flyers mysteriously all ended up in the trash can. I wonder why.

At one of my old jobs, our paydays always landed on Friday afternoons. As soon as everyone got paid, the boss would disappear for his golf game, and honestly, nobody complained. It was a small company, and without him around, the mood just relaxed. We’d wrap up our work for the week, get ready for Monday, and enjoy the peace.

But then one week, things went sideways.

Secretary: *Calling his cell phone.* “Hey, you left without handing out the paychecks. Can you come back to sign them?”

Boss: “No. Tell everyone they’ll just have to wait until Monday.”

As soon as word got out, everyone grabbed their stuff and headed home. Only the secretary hung around. 

The next Monday, the boss dragged the whole team into a meeting and tore into us, complaining about work not getting done.

But everyone just shrugged and told him:

Us: “Look, it’s simple. No pay, no work.”

Safe to say, he never tried that stunt again.