Me: “Hey [coworker], I heard you interviewed [my friend].”

Coworker: “Yeah. Sorry, I couldn’t hire him, considering he’s your friend and all.”

Me: “That’s okay. I don’t expect you to hire someone just because he’s my friend. But he said that you told him that the reason he wasn’t hired was that you were looking for female baristas.”

Coworker: *smiles* “Yeah. You know, girls just are harder workers, more detail oriented. And we need that around here. Us guys… we’re not so good at that. We’re pretty crappy, actually.”

Me: “Um, and you told [my friend] that?”

Coworker: “Yeah.”

Me: “Um, you do realize that that is sexual discrimination, right?”

Coworker: “…What? How?!”

Me: “It’s illegal to not hire someone based on their gender. Because [my friend] knows you didn’t give him a shot at the job because he’s a guy, he technically could sue you. [My friend] isn’t going to do that for a job in a coffee shop, but he wanted me to warn you to not say that to people so you or [the owner] don’t get in trouble for sexual discrimination.”

Coworker: “It’s really sexual discrimination? It’s not against women; it’s for women!”

Me: “Dude, sexual discrimination laws go both ways.”

Coworker: “Really?”

Me: *facepalm*

(I work for a particularly large financial company. On this particular day, I happen to be processing problem cases. This one has taken me all morning, and by lunch I realize that there had been a serious mistake made by another branch in the country. It’s probably going to require a compensation of at least $100,000 to the client, so I call my manager over.)

Manager: “What is it?”

Me: “Well, short version: someone at [branch] messed up really, really badly. This is going to be one huge escalation. Realistically, it’s probably going to cost someone their job.”

Manager: “Oh wow… okay. Let’s see who messed up.”

(He goes back to his workstation to check the history of the case. When he finds the person who had processed it, he goes pale and comes back to me.)

Manager: “Um… so, you know that case?”

Me: “Yep? Who do we need to speak to about it?”

Manager: “Uh… is it possible for you to just let this one go?”

Me: “Um, not legally, no. We messed up, and probably need to offer some serious compensation before the client goes to their lawyers. Protocol says the next step is to—”

Manager: “I know protocol! Okay, this is what I need you to do. Can you change the name on the process to say that you processed it?”

Me: “What? Why?!”

Manager: “Um, yeah… just do it, okay?”

(With that, he walks away looking very pale and immediately grabs his phone and walks out of the office. I sit in shock for a few moments then go and check for myself who had processed the case: it was his daughter. When he comes back, I refuse to take the fall for the serious error. He blows up at me and threatens to fire me on the spot. However, I report it all to the state manager. That’s not the end of the story, though: it was discovered that they had been stealing money from the company for the last six months! The daughter slipped up, causing the mistake that I had been working on fixing. They were both fired and were up on criminal charges. Last I heard, he was in jail. Apparently, it wasn’t the first job he had stolen from.)

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(This happened many years ago, when the drinking age was just 18 and our state driver’s licenses had descriptions, not photos. While I worked for many years and in nearly every position in the restaurant industry, in this incident my friends and I were the customers, and we behaved badly.)

(Five of us—my brother and I, and three friends (two of which are brothers), are trying to get into a nightclub. Four of us are of age, but one of our friends is only 17 and underage. His older brother, who is 21 and with us, has given his 17-year-old brother an expired copy of his license to try and sneak him in; note that the two brothers are the same height, weight, hair, and eye color. As expected, the bouncer lets four of us in, but stops when he looks at our underaged friend’s ID.)

Bouncer: “Hey, this guy has the same name as that guy, there!”

(Our underage friend freezes: the jig is up. In one last desperate effort to save the situation, I blurt out the first thing that came into my mind with all the exasperated disdain a 21-year-old punk can muster.)

Me: “OF COURSE they have the same name! They’re identical twin brothers! What do you expect? Come on!”

Bouncer: “Oh, sorry. Okay, then. Go on through.”

(To that bouncer, should he read this and remember: Sorry, man!)

(I go to the local fast food restaurant and order chicken nuggets.)

Clerk: “$7.34, please.”

Me: “What? It’s $5.80. Tax is not over a dollar.”

Clerk: “$7.34 or we cant serve you.”

Me: “Florida tax is 7%, so it would be $.42 at most. Added to $5.80, that would be approximately $6.22.”

(The manager comes over and I show him my math. He sits there puzzled for over a minute.)

Manager: “Doesn’t add up, and even if it did, there are extra taxes. Stop trying to scam us and pay the money or go home!”

Me: “Okay, sir, I tried to be reasonable. You obviously don’t know math.”

Manager: “Don’t you f***ing talk to me that way! I am a manager! I am above you!”

(As the manager says this, his boss, the general manager, shows up.)

General Manager: *to the manager* “And I’m above you. Not anymore, though. You’re fired!”

(I talked to the general manager. Not only did he notice the first employee adding extras to my order, but to most of the orders that day in hopes of stealing. He was fired too.)

Related:
Some Employees Just Don’t Add Up, Part 2
Some Employees Just Don’t Add Up