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    Category: Bosses & Owners

    Managers Throwing Their Weight Around

    | USA | Bizarre/Silly, Bosses & Owners

    (It’s a weekday at the beginning of the school year, so the building is dead. A friend of mine wanders in, so I’m talking to him at the prize counter. Two of my managers are at the cash register, cleaning up in front.)

    Me: “Yeah, it’s been slow all day. We’ve had nothing to do, so we’ve mostly been playing on our phones.”

    Friend: “Yeah that’s pretty boring.”

    Me: “I’m hoping for—”

    (All of a sudden, something hits my ear pretty hard. I look down to see a small hacky sack from the prize counter on the floor. I look over at my managers, the only other people close enough to throw something.)

    Manager #1: “It was [Manager #2]!”

    Manager #2: “Nuh-uh! It was [Manager #1]!”

    Friend: “…yeah. You guys need more customers.”

    Great Scott!

    | Harrisburg, PA, USA | Bosses & Owners, Coworkers

    (I have come in on my day off to drop off my boyfriend’s dinner. He works at the same store.)

    Me: “Hey, could you call Scott up?”

    Cashier: “What?”

    Me: “Can you call Scott?”

    Cashier: “What?”

    Me: “Call Scott.”

    Cashier: “What?”

    Me: “Call Scott.”

    Cashier: “What?”

    Me: “Call the manager!”

    Cashier: “Oh!” *picks up paging system* “Scott to the front please.”

    Me: *sigh*

    Hard Working To The Corp

    | AR, USA | Bosses & Owners, Coworkers, Health & Body

    (At a big-box retail store, I, a newbie, have just injured myself with a box-cutter and go to patch myself up with gauze and tape. We’re talking an inch-long slice that skipped off the joint in my thumb. On returning, I have this exchange with my manager, a retired marine.)

    Manager: “I just had to send [Coworker] home for fainting at the sight of the mess you made.”

    Me: “And?”

    Manager: “You need stitches, and I need to file an accident report.”

    Me: “I need to finish my aisle, and you need to call in a replacement for [Coworker].”

    Manager: “Oo-rah.”

    Managed By A Busybody

    | IN, USA | Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners

    (There are just two cashiers working and no manager on duty when everyone on the highway decides they need to stop and fuel. Diesel and gas registers are both busy, and the phone is ringing nonstop. There are two lines for the fuel desk, one for the restaurant, and one for the garage. The restaurant and garage never use their own lines to call out.)

    Garage: *over phone intercom* “Hey, you guys have a call on line four.”

    Me: “Okay, thanks.” *picks up* “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name]. Can I help you?”

    General Manager: “Why couldn’t I call through on lines one and two?”

    Me: *clearly waiting on customers* “I’m guessing the restaurant and garage are on them. They’ve been lit up for a while.”

    General Manager: “Are you sure you girls aren’t talking on the phone to your boyfriends?”

    Me: “Very sure. It’s very busy and we have lines almost to the door.”

    General Manager: “Because I called two or three times on each line.”

    Me: “Then maybe you should tell the other managers to stop their employees calling out on our lines. Did you need something? We’re really busy.”

    General Manager: “Are you sure you aren’t on the phone with someone else?”

    Me: “No, [Manager], I am NOT on the phone with someone else and neither is [Coworker]! Did you need me to do something or not because [Coworker] needs help!”

    General Manager: “No, I’m just calling to check on you. See you tomorrow.”

    Me: “Bye!”

    (I guess he must have checked the tapes when he came in the next day, because I didn’t hear anything else about it!)

    Scream Your Fried Lungs Out And They Still Won’t Listen

    , | England, UK | Bosses & Owners, Food & Drink, Health & Body

    (We have just got home after picking up a bucket of chicken; I go to take a bite when I notice something awful. I ring the branch.)

    Me: “Hi, I’ve found what looks like cooked internal organs in my meal. What can you do about it?”

    Worker: “Hang on. Let me get the manager.”

    Manager: *very young sounded voice* “Err… hello.”

    Me: “Yes, I’ve found something in my food. I don’t know what it is but it looks like a lump of lung. What can you do for me?”

    Manager: “Err… Do you want me to replace it?”

    Me: “Hang on. You are proposing that I stop eating my family meal, get in my car, and return a chicken leg? To presumably return home to a cold dinner?”

    Manager: “Well… err…”

    Me: “Or are you suggesting that I eat my dinner, and dessert, then drive clear across town to have another piece of chicken? Are you not even going to apologise?! Or offer me a free meal or something next time?”

    Manager: “You can return the piece of chicken for free.”

    (I stopped eating fast food chicken after that.)


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