I just got a new job, so I have to send my equipment to my old job. We were working from home, so they’ve sent me three boxes and three labels. I fit everything in one box and send it off. I keep a copy of the confirmation for two months and then delete it, assuming that after that long, they’ve gotten it.

Two and a half months after sending the equipment, my old manager contacts me.

Old Manager: “Did you send the equipment as requested?”

Me: “Yes, I sent it in [Month] and thought you’d already gotten it.”

Old Manager: “They say they haven’t received it. Do you have proof of sending?”

Me: “I thought after so long someone would have said something if they didn’t get it. I guess I should’ve kept the confirmation longer, but I don’t have it anymore.”

Old Manager: “They still say they haven’t gotten it, but I’ll check.”

[Old Manager] contacts me a few more times saying they don’t have the equipment.

Finally…

Old Manager: “They don’t have it. They can see that you didn’t use the shipping labels they sent.”

Me: “If they can see that I didn’t use two of the labels, they can see that I did use the third.”

I never got contacted again.

I worked at a popular lingerie store as a security guard. It was a small store in a mall: one room with some changing rooms in the back and a stock area for employees. At the end of the day, there were just three people working: an employee, a manager, and me.

One day, after closing up, we were filing out when the alarm went off on one of the employees.

Employee: “I must have accidentally stuck one of the security tags in my pocket. I’ll be right back.”

[Employee] ran back to the employee section of the store and came out a couple of minutes later. He went through the door again, and the alarm went off again. 

Joking around, I lifted the bottom of his pant leg a couple of inches with my toe.

Me: “You stealing something?”

As I lifted his pant leg, I suddenly realized that he was wearing pantyhose under his pants. To each their own, but it was certainly unusual behavior. I lifted the pant leg a little further and saw that there was lingerie stuffed into the pantyhose. 

The manager took over from there, but when all was said and done, [Employee] was trying to sneak out over forty pieces of lingerie stuffed in pantyhose under his pants.

There was a woman with dwarfism who regularly shopped at the place where I used to work. She was always lovely and kind, and I think I made a good impression on her the first time we met. I was stocking shelves.

Me: “Do you need help, ma’am?”

Woman: “No, thanks.”

Me: “Cool. Let me know if you do!”

Then, I turned to the gentleman who’d entered the aisle after her and asked the exact same thing, in the exact same tone, with the exact same response to the “no”. She realised I was not doing a pity party but legit just offering customers help while in the area.

When she did eventually need help, she wanted a kind of bread that was always low in stock, as well as being in an annoying top slot on a shelf. Being a stock person, I was able to both grab it from there and, if there wasn’t any, check the other space for it.

I think she was amused after that when I’d spot her and just go, “Need your bread today?” to take the hassle out of it.

Since I don’t work there anymore, I don’t know if she still goes there, but I hope one of my colleagues has taken over bread duty in my absence.

I worked for a company that was 100% travel. When I went to my first job, I was paid to drive 200 miles to the first assignment, and I was paid a certain amount per day to cover housing and food. They didn’t have another job lined up for me, so I went home (again, paid to travel) and took a retail job until the next assignment came up.

Two years went by before they reached out again, asking me to drive nearly 1,000 miles to the next assignment. I didn’t want to do the drive, but it was a lot more money, and it was in a location that I’d always wanted to visit. I spoke with the hiring manager to finalize the details before leaving. I remembered him from my first assignment; he said he was direct, but I remember him being an a**hole.

Me: “So, I go to [address] on the first day, right?”

Hiring Manager: “Yes, you will do your employee orientation there.”

Me: “Okay. Whom do I submit my travel expenses to?”

Hiring Manager: “All expenses go through [Payroll Admin]. She’ll be there when you arrive.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll be there!”

The drive took two very long days. I stayed at a cheap motel overnight and got to the assignment with fifteen minutes to spare. [Hiring Manager] was nowhere to be found, but [Payroll Admin] was in the office.

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name].”

Payroll Admin: “Hi, [My Name], I’m [Payroll Admin]. Let’s get your orientation going so you can start working.”

Me: “Sounds good.”

I went through the paperwork.

Me: “So, how do I expense my travel?”

Payroll Admin: “That’s not a thing.”

Me: “Uhh… okay. [Hiring Manager] said—”

Payroll Admin: “I’m the one who does the payroll. I would know.”

Me: “Okay, then.”

I did my first day of work, and as soon as I got home, I dug up my first paycheck. Right there on my pay stub was a mobilization addition: fifty cents per mile. I took it with me the next day.

Me: “Hi, [Payroll Admin], I—”

Payroll Admin: “If this is about mobilization pay, the answer is still no.”

Me: “I have proof.”

I showed her my paycheck.

Payroll Admin: “Well, that must have been a mistake. [Hiring Manager] told me himself that there is no pay for first or last travel.”

Me: “Can you pull up my hiring contract?”

Payroll Admin: “Only [Hiring Manager] has the contracts.”

So, I was back to talking to that a**hole. And he wasn’t there, so I had to email him. 

Me: “Good morning, [Hiring Manager], I am following up on travel reimbursement for driving from [my address] to [assignment address]. I spoke with [Payroll Admin], but she insisted that travel reimbursement has never been part of [Company]. I showed her my first pay stub from my last assignment, which showed that I was paid to drive there. If this is no longer policy, I apologize for pushing, and I understand that things have changed. If not, please point me in the right direction.”

There was no response for two weeks. I decided to go over [Hiring Manager] and email an upper manager I knew from my first assignment.

Me: “Good morning, [Upper Manager], I am trying to figure out if travel reimbursement is still part of [Company] policy. I spoke with [Hiring Manager], and he said yes, but [Payroll Admin] said no. I tried to reach out to [Hiring Manager] again, but he hasn’t responded. I understand if things have changed from my first assignment, but I would like to know either way.”

Upper Manager: “Hi, [My Name]! So good to hear from you again. I know a lot has changed since your last assignment, so I don’t know what is and is not covered anymore. Let me do some digging and get back to you.”

An hour passed before my phone rang. It was [Hiring Manager].

Me: “Hel—”

Hiring Manager: “When you have a question, you ask the person you want to ask. You don’t go crying to upper management.”

Me: “You told me to talk to [Payroll Admin]. She told me it was never a thing. I showed her my pay stub showing that it was. You didn’t answer my email, and quite frankly, I’m a little annoyed at this runaround.”

Hiring Manager: “I just got my a** handed to me because you want, what, $40? I’ll give you $40 right from my wallet to end this.”

Me: “Actually, it’s probably more like $500.”

Hiring Manager: “Are you f****** kidding me? I’m not going to keep going in circles with you over this. There is no mobilization pay.”

Me: “Then why did you tell me to go to [Payroll Admin] when we first spoke instead of saying it wasn’t a thing?”

Hiring Manager: “Look, things change. The answer is no, and this conversation is over.”

He hung up.

I packed up my things and left at lunchtime. I spent the next two days driving back home.

[Hiring Manager] called me the next morning, but I let it go to voicemail.

Voicemail: “[My Name], where are you? We are working on [project] today, and I don’t know if you’re aware, but that’s the whole reason we brought to you this assignment. If you’re still sulking about not getting paid to drive, you need to get over it.”

I saved the voicemail and sent it to [Upper Manager], the human resources department, and every other manager and employee I could think of.

[Upper Manager] called me a few days later to tell me that I had started an avalanche of drama. [Hiring Manager] had lied not only to me but to several other employees. There WAS a reimbursement at seventy-five cents per mile, but he didn’t want to pay it because every expense cut into his bonus at the end of the year. He is no longer employed at [Company].

In a past millennium, I got my first real job as a kitchen assistant in a restaurant. I was warned — by the owner who hired me — that the head chef was quite the jerk and liked to play nasty pranks on the new hires, particularly on young women like me. He particularly loved making people feel stupid and small, and he argued that this behaviour made people think more critically. The head chef was, unfortunately, amazingly skilled and high-performing, and it wasn’t possible to fire him, and reprimands went unheeded due to his being irreplaceable. I recognized the red flag, but I needed both the money and the experience.

One day, around midday, the head chef came running in with a small two-liter pot (roughly two quarts), the kind with a single handle sticking out to the side.

Head Chef: “Girl!”

Me: “Yes, chef?”

Head Chef: “We need another ten-liter pot (2.6 gallons)! You have to run to [Restaurant] next door and use their pot-stretcher!”

In Swedish, he asked me to get a “grytsträckare”, which means “pot stretcher”, but Swedes might like seeing the word.

Me: “A what now?”

Head Chef: “Girl! Don’t you know what a pot-stretcher is?”

Me: “No? Is it like a tool or…?”

Head Chef: “How could they hire people that don’t know what a pot-stretcher is? This is disgraceful. I’ll have to talk to [Owner] about this! I mean, how the f*** can you be this incompetent?” *Shoves the pot in my arms* “Do as I say, or you’ll be sorry!”

Bewildered, I looked at the pot, desperately trying to understand what I was supposed to do. Then, I saw a hint of an evil smile glimmering in his eyes, and I remembered the warning. A plan formed in my head.

Me: “All right, chef! I’ll run over there and get the pot stretched! I’m sure they’ll tell me how it works if I don’t figure it out. And if they won’t lend me their pot-stretcher, I’ll be really persistent, and I won’t come back without a bigger pot. You can count on me!”

I made a silly salute and ran off, pot in hand.

Roughly twenty minutes after leaving the restaurant, I slammed down an exact copy of the small pot, but one that was five times the size, next to [Head Chef]. I spoke very loudly to draw the attention of the other staff, who had heard about my impossible mission.

Me: “Here, chef!”

Head Chef: *Staring in disbelief* “What is that?”

Me: “It’s a pot to your specifications! Ten liters, as you told me. It was hard work, let me tell you! The handle almost broke off, stretching that little amount of metal so thin, but I did it! And in record time!”

Head Chef: “But… but…”

Me: “What? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

Head Chef: “But… It… There isn’t…”

Me: “I must say, this was a valuable experience! Thank you! I’ve really learned something today.”

Head Chef: “But… I needed the small pot back. It was my favourite sauce pot.”

Me: “Then why did you ask me to stretch it? You needed a bigger pot, right?”

[Head Chef] looked at the sadistic smiles of the other staff members who had gathered around.

Head Chef: “Well, it’s a better pasta pot now. Get back to work, all of you!”

And so we went, snickering and giggling.

The next day, [Head Chef]’s precious pot had shrunk back to the original size, and when he asked about it, I said that he probably forgot to water the pot. He shut up after that and never mentioned it again.

I told the others what had happened.

A friend of mine happened to work at a nearby kitchen supply store that had a huge pot of the same design hanging from the ceiling as an advertisement, which I had seen a few days before. I went there and told my friend about my situation, and I said that I wanted to borrow their showcase pot. My friend had to ask his manager, who apparently knew about the amicability-challenged chef and really wanted that jerk put in place.

The showcase pot happened to be slightly larger than a ten-liter pot but designed as a smaller pot, so it had a single handle sticking out to the side and all — totally useless for its size. I returned it early the next morning and got the regular pot back, and I made sure to put the small pot in exactly the same place and position as the big pot. A lot of the other staff helped me do this final switcharoo since they were more than happy to see [Head Chef] get his comeuppance.

[Head Chef] remained the same jerk, but he never did pull another prank like that again. As far as I know, he never figured it out.