Category: Bad Behavior


A Sudden Shift In Expectations

| Scottsdale, AZ, USA | Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners, Overtime

(It is the late morning and I am scheduled for a shift in the afternoon when I get a call from the manager.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], we don’t have many reservations today and expect it to be slow so we are cutting you. Sorry.”

(Now having the day off I go meet up with some friends on the other side of town. About 10 minutes before my shift was supposed to start I get another call.)

Manager: “[Coworker] called in sick so we will need you here after all.”

Me: “That’s fine but I’m on the other side of town. I need to get home to change into my uniform so I won’t be able to be in for about an hour.”

Manager: “Your shift starts in ten minutes! You need to be here when you are scheduled! What the h*** are you doing across town when your shift is about to start?”

Me: “You cut me from the schedule so I was under the impression I wasn’t working until just now.”

Manager: “You’d better be here EXACTLY when the schedule says you need to be!” *hangs-up*

(I raced home to change and was able to get there within 45 minutes and ended up getting written up for being late.)


Levels Of Service Are Bi-Poles Apart

| USA | Bad Behavior, Employees, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue

Years ago I was misdiagnosed with being bipolar until it was discovered I had PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) which causes a woman to have a serious hormone imbalance — imagine having PMS 24/7 and a 100 times worse. After getting my PCOS under control with the correct medications and the right doctors everything got better emotionally for me. No more sudden bursts of anger or crying for no reason, etc.

Then about three years later I break my arm and have to go to the ER by myself. I call my husband at work and he came to the ER later on.

While in the hospital my medical records show I had been diagnosed with being bipolar BUT also showed it was a misdiagnosis. However, the ER doctor on call seems to only see that I was diagnosed with a mental disorder and that is that. He seems to completely ignore the misdiagnosis and during the my time in the ER between x-rays and scans, etc. he keeps trying to get me to take the same antipsychotic medications I was on before and even loudly berates me because I “stopped taking my meds.” I try explaining, even give him both my family doctor’s and my gynecologist’s number but he just won’t believe me. Even when my husband finally arrives and tries to talk to him the doctor just won’t listen.

And on top of that, the ER nurses somehow find out about it as well and a few of them (not all) start treating me as if I should be admitted to the psychiatric wing of the hospital for not taking the antipsychotic medications.

The final straw is when the ER doctor leans over me while I am lying down on a hospital bed and gets up in my face and threatens to have the medication injected into me even if they have to hold me down and have me admitted to the psychiatric wing. My husband gets up then and almost grabs the doctor (he later said he was going to beat the crap out of him) but I tell him to stop and I said the magic words that I implore any patient of a hospital in a similar situation use, “I have the right as a patient to refuse any and all medications and procedures and I’m demanding to see a patient advocate NOW!”

Both I and my husband agreed later on that we both have never seen a person get so pale so fast.

The doctor leaves quickly without saying another word and we assume he went to get a patient advocate but about 30 minutes later when a nurse (one of the good ones) comes in to check on us we ask about our request. She didn’t know we had requested to see one and when she goes to check at the nurses station they don’t have any request either. They go ahead and call for one then.

When the patient advocate arrives and my husband and I explain what has been happening he helps us lodge a complaint against the ER doctor and we never saw that doctor again while waiting to be discharged. The few nurses who gave me grief also seem to avoid our room which is fine with us. The patient advocate did say the doctor in question has been updated to the fact my bipolarism really was a misdiagnosis and that we made a formal complaint about his behavior. The advocate ended up apologising on the doctor’s behalf which we both thought was unfair since it should be the doctor doing it.

On leaving the ER with my arm in a cast and feeling good from the painkillers, we pass the nurses’ station. Only the nurses and staff who did NOT judge me smile and say their goodbyes and get wells. The few who treated me like I was less than human have their heads down, apparently doing “paper work.”

I don’t blame the hospital for the way I was treated. I blame that doctor and the few nurses for assuming things without either knowing the whole story or refusing to listen, and thinking anyone with a mental disorder are liars or not to be taken seriously.

It scares me that there could be people with mental disorders being treated the way I was treated.


Talking Eurotrash

| Belgium | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Criminal/Illegal, Employees, Money

(After winning €50 on a lottery scratch card, I go to the newsagent’s to cash it in and buy a new €10 ticket.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like a [€10 ticket], please. And could you also pay out this one?”

(The cashier hands me a new ticket, takes my winning ticket, and looks at it in a rather annoyed way.)

Cashier: *in a quite pedantic tone* “You know, you really should scratch it more thoroughly so the QR code is completely uncovered; otherwise it’s too much work for me.”

Me: *surprised* “Oh, since when has the system changed? I thought all you needed was the 4-digit number in the corner, so I always make sure that’s fully visible.”

Cashier: *annoyed* “Yeah, well, they changed the system earlier this week and they came to install this stupid new computer terminal, without as much as a word of warning. So yeah, now we need to scan the QR code on each ticket.”

Me: “Okay, that’s good to know; I’ll bear it in mind for next time.”

(The cashier scans my winning ticket’s QR code, and the message “winning ticket: €50” pops up on the terminal’s screen.)

Cashier: *hesitates, looks at the winning ticket, then at the new ticket he’d just handed me, and then starts typing numbers into the cash register* “Right, minus the €10 for your new ticket, I owe you €28.”

Me: “Ehm, no… that would be €40. I won €50, the new ticket costs €10.

Cashier: *now obviously annoyed* “No, I don’t think so! It says €28 on the cash register. The register is always right!” *tries to hand me €28*

Me: “I’m quite sure it’s €40. Could you check my winning ticket again?”

Cashier: “No, I won’t! I never buy lottery tickets! I don’t know how any of that works! My register says your change is €28 so that’s what you’re getting! The register doesn’t make mistakes!” *slams down the money on the counter*

(At this moment, the next customer in line, who had clearly seen the “winning ticket: €50” message on the terminal’s screen, decides to speak up on my behalf:)

Customer: *to the cashier* “I’m sure this gentleman is right. I just saw him win €50!”

Cashier:  “Stay out of this!” *turns back to me* “Right, if money is obviously sooooo important to you, here’s your stinking two euros!”

(He grabs four 50ct coins from the till and slams them down on the counter, bringing the total change to €30.)

Me: *doing my best to remain icy calm* “Actually, you still owe me €10.”

Cashier: “Oh, really!? You know what?” *taking two €5 notes from the till, and throwing them on the counter* “Take it all! Take MY money! I hope you’re happy now! In fact, why don’t you go spend MY money right now? Buy a burger, why don’t you… and choke on it!”

Me: *walking to the exit with my €40* “Thanks for the tip, and pleasure doing business with you.”

(Although somehow I doubt I’ll go back there…)


How To Mismanage The Situation

| ME, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners

(I have to make a late milk run at a popular retail place. I get in line, at the only register open, and we start doing my WIC, a government program to help mothers and children, and we realize… neither of us has a pen.)

Cashier: “I’m sorry. Let me page my manager; normally she has one.” *enters code to page the manager* “Sorry about this.”

Me: “It’s fine, really. Normally I bring one but I forgot tonight.”

Cashier: “It’s fine!”

(Ten minutes go by with no sign of the manager and a line has formed.)

Me: “I really didn’t mean to hold up the line.”

Cashier: “You’re not. Does anyone have a pen? My manager must be stuck.”

Lady: “I have one.”

Me: “Thank you! I’ll give it right back.”

(We get through the first check, then we have to do the fruit and veggies and I go over, so I opt to pay the rest by personal check.)

Cashier: “Why won’t this… I’m sorry, this seems to not want to go through.”

Me: “It’s fine. It happens all the time, and you’d think I remember how it’s done!”

Cashier: *smiles and calls up the manager again*

(We wait a few minutes, and see the manager, who sees how many of us there is and runs in the other direction.)

Cashier: “[Manager], wait! I need… assistance… Really?”

Me: “I have to pick up my daughter from my parents house…”

Cashier: “I am so, so sorry.”

(We wait an additional few minutes, making it a total of 20 minutes I’m at the register, and holding up the line.)

Me: “What is the time?”

Cashier: “It’s 9:30.”

Me: “Oh, man I really have to get my daughter. Look, maybe—”

Manager: “I’m here!”

Cashier: “About time!”

Me: *sighs in relief*

Manager: “Be lucky I’m not turning you away.”

Me: “Sorry…?”

Cashier: “She hasn’t done anything! She’s been patiently waiting for you so she can check out and leave! Please show me how to do this, so I can get the rest of her items, and she can pick up her TODDLER.”

Manager: “Don’t need to be so rude!”

Lady: “Ma’am, why did you take so long?!”

Manager: “I was busy!”

Cashier: “We saw you, running away.”

Manager: “Just get this woman out of here.” *she leaves*

Me: “Wh-what did I do!?”

Cashier: “I’m so sorry, [My Name]. She’s horrible; why she’s even still working here is beyond me…”

(When I was leaving, I heard the cashier making a report to their boss on her phone while checking people out, but I really do doubt anything will come of it.)


Not Going To Cry Over This Onion

| Canada | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Health & Body, Lazy/Unhelpful

(About twice a week, I go to a burger place during my lunch break. The burgers are expensive, but worth it because they have gorgeous, fresh, unusual ingredients. Instead of ordering those ingredients separately, you choose from burgers with pre-set combinations of toppings. I order one of my usuals.)

Me: “Hi, can I have [Burger], but with no onions, and with [substitute sauce] instead of the regular sauce? I know it has onions in it and I’m allergic.”

Clerk: “No problem!”

(I sit down to wait for my order, and the owner comes up to chat with me. After a bit of small talk, he seems to get to his point.)

Owner: “I notice you always order everything without onions. What exactly would happen to you if you ate them?”

Me: “Well, I get a lot of intestinal distress. Stomach pains, horrible nausea, things like that. So I guess it’s more of an intolerance, really. I just say ‘allergy’ because it’s easier to get my point across. Even a little bit of onion can make for a really bad day.”

Owner: “Oh, so it’s not like you’re going to stop breathing or anything. It’s not life-threatening.”

Me: “Well, no, but it can be extremely painful and uncomfortable. And the problem could get so bad that I’d have to go home from work, and I really can’t afford to do that.”

Owner: “Gotcha. Well, let me go check on your order.”

(When my order is up I head back to work to eat it. When I open the bag, my order has onions on it and no substitutions for the sauce. I know it’s easy to make mistakes so I’m not angry, but I do call the restaurant since I don’t have enough time left in my break to go back.)

Owner: “My cooks must have made a mistake. It’s not that much of a problem though, is it? You said it’s not life-threatening. You can still eat it.”

Me: “I just wanted to call it to your attention so that you can let your staff know to be more careful. I know mistakes happen, I’m just letting you know. With allergies and intolerances, it’s important. And actually, I can’t eat it. I can’t risk getting sick.”

Owner: “I’m sure you’ll be fine. We can’t be making you special orders all the time because you’re afraid of getting a little gassy. It’s a waste of our time.”

Me: “I see. Well, no worries, then. I won’t be ordering anything at all from now on.”