From an early age, we are told to do everything from eating our vegetables to standing up straighter to paying more attention. All of these things and more are told to us by our parents and teachers and figures of authority. As we get older, it comes from our boss, and loved ones, except now we have age and experience. Our ability to discern is heightened, used for better or for worse!
It’s in these following circumstances that you’ll get to see firsthand how doing exactly what you’re told can be used for good or revenge. Everyone here threw out their learned ability to know what the other person meant, and opted to give them what they asked for wholeheartedly. ONLY pepperoni and cheese on your hand-tossed pizza crust? Cool. No tomato sauce for you! Make a degrading comment about preparing tea because that’s what you think the culture is known for? Perfect. You’ll get it sweetened x100. These are just a few of the gems packed in here. Read on to seriously laugh out loud at how by-the-book some people can be!
16. Say A Comment Like That? Get A Sweet Taste Of It Back
“I am mixed race (white and Middle Eastern) and I have a Middle Eastern name.
That said, I’m pretty much just your run of the mill Canadian – I drink beer, wear flannel, and have been told I have a pretty thick Canadian accent.
Some people can’t see past the name and treat me like a POC (usually for the worst) so I’ve developed a thick skin.
I was in a multiple-day board meeting and volunteered to make the mid-morning coffee run for everyone. One of the senior board members requested chai (tea with milk), and when I asked how they wanted it, said: ‘You’re brown, you know how to do it.’
Hmmmm.
I let the comment slide and headed down to the coffee shop. Problem was, I legitimately did not know what “You’re brown, you know how to do it” meant. My dad always liked his mint tea with a bit of honey in it rather than sugar, so I had an idea.
I ordered the board member large chai and then proceeded to pour out about 1/3 of it. I then took the squeeze bottle of honey at the end of the coffee bar and filled up the 1/3rd of the cup that I had poured out.
It was less a drink and more of a slurry when I tried to stir in the honey, and it goes without saying it was sweet to the point of being inedible.
I brought everyone their drinks and handed the chai slurry to the board member. The weight of the cup threw her off, and she hesitantly took a sip before recoiling in revulsion.
I had already taken my seat by this point and was watching intently.
She looked at me with a mix of anger/disgust/confusion on her face, and said, ‘[my name], what the f*ck is this? How much honey is in here?’
With barely concealed glee, I looked her dead in the eye and said, ‘Oh, that’s how brown people like it.’
She said nothing. I was not asked to make a coffee run again.” neoconfection
15. I’ll Give You Exactly What You Asked For On Your Pizza
“This happened today while I was at work.
I work at a gas station that has a pretty good pizza place in it and tonight I was working pretty much alone getting hammered with orders coming in nonstop.
About halfway through my rush, an online order comes through and almost immediately the phone rings. I drop what I’m doing and go answer expecting another order but it was just a customer (let’s call her Karen) wanting to confirm that her online order had come through.
I asked the name and confirmed the order with the Karen, it was one large all meat pizza and I very specifically remember confirming this because she said that was correct and she would be using a coupon for it. I didn’t really think anything of it and went back to work making the pies.
Jump ahead about an hour toward the end of the rush and the phone rings, I again prepare to take another order but instead am greeted by an angry customer saying that I messed up their pizza.
I apologized and asked for the name so that I could look up the order and she says Karen. It has not been that long and I remember the name saying absent-minded ‘oh yeah, I remember the order. You called to confirm and I remember we agreed the order was correct.’
Karen: ‘Well the order I put in was for all meat but I wanted it with only double pepperoni on one half and only cheese on the other half.’
Me: ‘Ok, let me just pull up the record and we can get this sorted out for you.’
Karen: ‘The only way to sort it out is for you to make me what I ordered.’
By this time I had the order slip pulled up on the screen and could clearly see that there were no special instructions but was not really looking forward to telling that to Karen.
So I politely ask if she would mind holding while I talk with my manager to solve the issue and she agrees.
I head over to the manager’s office and explain the situation to her, she is a very easy going person and I love working for her because she will almost always just tell us to use our best judgment (the pizza here is super overpriced and the profit margin for a single pie is somewhere around 400%).
She said to just make whatever she wants and I agreed.
Back on the phone, I tell Karen that I would be happy to make the correct order for her and asked her exactly what she wanted.
She said it exactly like this. ‘I want a large hand-tossed crust with only double pepperoni on one half and only cheese on the other half.’ I repeated exactly what she said and was told yes that it was correct.
I tell Karen to give me 15 minutes and she could pick up her pizza.
Here is where the MC comes into play. I make exactly what she ordered. I rolled out the large crust, tossed it out to a large size, put it in a pan, added a layer of pepperoni on one half then put cheese over the other half.
I’m sure most of you know how a pizza is prepared and can tell that there was a skipped step in there.
You know, pizza sauce. Karen did not ask for the sauce on the pizza and I made sure that I let my manager know that I made exactly what she ordered to help cover my backside when she called in to complain.
When Karen came to pick up her pizza I had my manager take it out to her and ask her if the order was correct reading from the slip. Large hand-tossed crust with only double pepperoni on one half and only cheese on the other half.
Karen smiled and said yes, then took the pie and left.
Jump to the end of my shift and my manager let me know that Karen had called in to demand a refund for her pizza because it had no sauce and was dry. The manager refused because she went over the order with Karen before she left with the pizza and told her she got exactly what she ordered.” kiethfromtmb
14. Long-Sleeved Shirt To Cover My Tattoos? Ok I’ll “Cover” My Ink
“Let’s set the scene. So this was a few years back.
I have quite a few tattoos (basically all my chest, my upper back, top half sleeves and one on the inside of each forearm (about 15cm across).
I worked for a cinema chain for a LONG time. Always had tattoos. I landed myself a management role (more like a supervisor). The standard uniform was a black shirt and black trousers. I prefer a short-sleeved shirt due to being a bigger guy and cinemas being bloody hot.
My site manager quite liked my tattoos and other quirks that I had. My area manager, however, did not. She would come into the site, walk past 8 other staff with full sleeve tattoos and make a beeline straight to me, stating that my tattoos need covering up and I quote, ‘They’re not offensive just a lot of people don’t like them.’ Now my tattoos aren’t offensive they’re just patterns.
She informed me that I had to wear long sleeves to cover them up otherwise I would face disciplinary action.
I had read the employee handbook a few times because of other petty crap so I know it was the manager’s decision (my site manager) but she decided to overrule it. What she forgot was just because the normal retail staff HAD to wear black. Management was allowed to wear white. Just Nobody did cos it was hard to keep clean.
So what should I do? I know let’s go and buy the thinnest cheapest most see-through white long sleeve shirt I can find.
Now if you could only see her face when she came in next when I’m basically wearing a shirt more see-through than tracing paper. (I’m talking you can see the color shift from my individual chest hairs) and ALL my tattoos are on show for everyone to see while standing behind the tills talking to customers.
Needless to say, I got to wear my short-sleeved black shirt again after that. virusoverload
13. More Icing? Here’s A Mountain
“There was this regular customer, older, probably in her 50’s, who always came into the grocery store where I worked.
She didn’t stop by the bakery (my department) too much, but I knew her because she was always really entitled and nasty.
She would either a) demand me to check if we had more cinnamon rolls in back, or b) demand more cream cheese icing on top. She always came to me and never bothered to ask anyone else, probably because I was one of the youngest workers in the department at that time.
Fast forward to about 2 pm on Mother’s Day, and the workflow was pretty steady. I hadn’t experienced any drama up until the lady walked in. I was the only one working with a customer at this point, writing on a cake for him with all my other co-workers standing around the gourmet case (a glass case with a lot of bakery goods in it).
All I hear is, ‘Umm…. excuse me??? I need some help!’
I looked up and asked someone to help her.
The lady was clearly offended, ‘Wm NO, I want YOU to help me! You’re not doing anything!’
I replied, after making eye-contact with the guy I was helping, ‘I’m with a customer. I’ll be with you in just a moment.’
She just couldn’t handle no for an answer, and she raised her voice some more. ‘I want more cream cheese on my cinnamon bun right now!!’
We had single-serve containers for the baked goods if people didn’t want them in a plastic bag, so there’s plenty of extra room up towards the lid.
Usually, she wanted a lot, and I mean a lot of cream cheese. I put a little extra on, just so I could hear her say, ‘NO, that’s unacceptable. I want much more than that!’
She was p*ssed, and quite frankly, I was too. So I absolutely slathered on a grotesque amount of icing onto the cinnamon roll. It was disgusting to think that she would probably eat the whole damn thing, too.
I handed her the container. I couldn’t even see the cinnamon roll underneath the heaping amount of icing. She huffed and walked away.
Next time I saw her, probably a few weeks later, she was looking at the baked goods in the case and I asked, ‘Would you like some more cream cheese icing for your cinnamon roll?’ And she frowned and said, ‘No, I can’t handle the icing any more.’ Victory.
I never saw her again after that.” camus-can-do
12. Everything On Your Burger? EVERYTHING? Coming Right Up!
“My first job was waitressing at a 50s diner style burger-joint. I think I was about 16? It was a sweet gig. My coworkers were generally nice, the customers were a mixed bag. Though we did have one homeless guy that would come in and do our food challenge weekly for a free meal. He was cool.
Anyways, I had a family come in. If I remember correctly it was the traditional dad, mom, two kids. It was lunch rush and basically all the tables and the bar were filled.
So, I’m taking their order and the dad asks for a burger.
Me: ‘What would you like on that burger?’
Dad: ‘Everything.’
Me: ‘Well we have a lot of options.’
I gesture to the menu section containing the topping choices. The dad does a once over (clearly not long enough to read) looks back at me and states.
Dad: ‘Everything.’
At this point, I should note we had a bunch of choices:
Mustard
Onions
Slaw
Chili
Mayo
Ketchup
Lettuce
Tomatoes
Pickles
Grilled Jalapeños
Grilled Mushrooms
Grilled Onions
Grilled Bell Peppers
I feel like there were even more choices when I worked there. The place also had 4-5 cheese options.
I ask the dad a few more times if he’s sure. Even tried to list the toppings.
His wife even tried to explain the situation. I could tell he was getting agitated but I also knew he’s didn’t know what ‘everything’ meant.
Eventually, I take his word for it and attempt to get the rest of his order.
Me: ‘Do you want cheese?’
Dad: ‘I said everything!’
Me: ‘Well we have 4 –’
Dad: ‘Everything!!!’
Yikes. I want to point out he’s literally yelling here. Those exclamation points are not for emphasis
Well, I finish taking the table’s order. On the ticket, I remember specifically taking the time to meticulously write out every ingredient as clearly as I could.
The tickets were small and each ingredient was denoted by an acronym so it was a challenge to fit ‘everything.’ I also made sure to include every possible cheese.
I knew this monstrosity was going to be sent back. I knew it was an abomination, but I was determined to give that man what he asked for. The line cooks looked at me like, ‘You sure?’ With a simple nod, I pulled the trigger.
I walked that burger out to the man with the biggest sh*t-eating grin. It had to have been 2 pounds of sloppy, wet burger. The annoyance on his face would have been reward enough, but as predicted, the father called my manager over and complained.
My manager came to me fuming. Clearly, he had been chewed out by the man.
‘You know you have to ask the customers what they want on their burgers?!’
‘I did.
I –’
‘Well, the man at table 11 said he didn’t ask for that.’
Mind you I was still 16 at this point and timid. Still, I explained the situation. My managers’ demeanor change and he had a little smirk on his face. My manager asked me to follow him back to the table and grabbed a menu on the way.
Manager: ‘Hi sir, I need some clarity. What exactly did you ask for on your burger?’
Customer: ‘Uh, everything but –’
My manager opened the menu on the table pointing to the topping options.
Manager: ‘Sir, this is everything. This is what’s on your burger. I’ll be happy to remake the burger to your specifications if you can give them this time, but we are very busy and it could take a while. [My name], please take his order.’
So I did. I can’t remember his actual order anymore, but it was definitely a more traditional burger. It probably took about 10 minutes to come out so his family was mostly done with their meal while he was beginning.
We could’ve taken another burger off the line to make him, but why make a chill table wait?” ClassiestRobin
11. Give A Pregnant Woman A Hard Time? She’ll Show You How It’s Done
“Back story: This happened when I was pregnant while in the Navy and got sent to a limited duty station.
I essentially worked in an office full of pregnant/injured sailors with a couple of supervisors who were absolute d*ckwads to the pregnant women (because we all got pregnant on purpose to avoid sea duty, of course).
I happened to be the most senior pregnant woman there at that time, senior enough to know my rights and to call out bs.
One of the things we were still required to do is PT (work out, for you civilians) 3 times a week, within the bounds of our physical limitations. For pregnant women, this typically meant no sit-ups, push-ups or jumping jacks, no standing/walking for more than 15 minutes, and running at our own discretion.
Typically, we were allowed to do our own thing as long as we did some kind of work out (stretching and yoga balls counted), for the 30-45 minute duration. We had requested to be allowed to attend the gym’s pregnancy yoga class, but were denied as it started at 10 am (‘middle’ of the workday, leaving us 30 unproductive minutes before lunch). For the most part, we women were left alone.
There were some instances of d*ck-waving, where the men in charge would decide that all of us, including the women that were 7-8 months pregnant, were able to do whatever hare-brained activity they thought up (like running in the rain).
I am typically able to shut those down pretty quick. Needless to say, I wasn’t very popular with our supervisors, but I always had documentation to back me up.
As I entered my third trimester, my anemia kicked in full gear and I started getting super light headed and having tunnel vision.
Regardless, I never called in late, always made it to work on time and did my yoga ball exercises during PT. One morning, I started having tunnel vision and slipped off my yoga ball. As I was sitting there trying to put my head between my legs, someone grabbed my shoulder and started yelling at me to ‘get off my a*s and f*cking PT,’ along with some other sh*t about how being pregnant was not an excuse to sit down.
Once my vision cleared, I stood up and faced my direct supervisor (LPO), who was still giving me sh*t. I told him that I couldn’t continue PT and would need to sit out the rest of the time, even producing my medical chit that stated I was allowed to ‘rest as needed. LPO wasn’t having it and told me I wasn’t allowed to sit down during PT and that if I wanted to sit, I should go to medical.
Cool.
I asked one of the girls to take me to medical, and he started yelling about how I needed to get myself there.
I looked him in the eye and said, ‘I am about to pass out. I am in no condition to drive. If you will not let someone else take me to medical, I am calling the ambulance now.’ This would launch an investigation (workplace injury and whatnot) of course, and also involve paperwork for LPO to do, so he relented but told me I had to find my own ride back to work.
So I get driven to medical. I tell the ob-gyn desk that I have been having dizzy spells and my supervisor wants me to PT. Yes, despite what is said on my medical chit.
I get seen by a nurse, get some blood sucked out of me and ushered into the ob-gyn department head’s office. Apparently he had overheard me. I tell him what happened and the past attempts to force the pregnant women to do more than they are allowed to.
Doc asks where we PT. I tell him. He raises his eyebrow. And proceeds to inform me that he is VERY familiar with the particular gym that we PT in, and that it was considered a ‘hazard zone’ for pregnant women as there are a couple of basketball courts next to the yoga balls (too close to contact sports), and also that as per the manual any command requiring their pregnant women to be involved in any kind of organized PT (making us show up at a certain location at a certain time counts as organized) are required to submit a PT plan for us through the chain of command (this involves going through 3 senior/master chiefs and 4 officers, including our captain) to be approved by the closest affiliated ob-gyn department head (him) before they were allowed to subject us to any kind of PT.
He then proceeded to print out the specific pages of the instruction manual, highlight the pertinent parts, stamp, sign and attach his business card to it and told me to take that to my LPO and have him call him if he had any questions or would like to show proof of such a PT plan for our command. He then wrote down his private extension on the back of another business card and told me to call him if I have any more problems.
He also personally wrote me a new medical chit that says that I should be allowed to ‘rest at member’s discretion and only perform work that member feels that she can safely perform.’ They were having me do things like move heavy boxes of paperwork and test live equipment!!!
While all this was happening, my bloodwork had come back showing stupidly low iron levels, so he had me increase my iron dosage and gave me a week off of work ‘just to make sure that that solves that problem.’ I get taken back to work by medical’s duty driver.
I walk into my office and immediately get called into chief’s office to get reamed out for ‘being late and missing PT.’ Apparently LPO had failed to inform him that HE had ordered me to go to medical. LPO stood in the corner with a sh*t-eating grin on his face. As chief is giving me the knife hand, I pull out my paperwork from medical and place it on his desk.
I then calmly proceeded to explain how Captain OBGYN Department Head would like to see our command PT plan for pregnant women and that he had kindly attached his business card if they had any questions for him.
LPO read the highlighted portions and went, ‘You would actually go this far?’
Me: ‘I don’t know what you mean. You told me to go to medical if I needed to sit down, so I did.
This is what I was given at medical. Looks like there is Naval instruction related to this that we should be following. Oh, by the way, here is a copy of my new physical limitations signed by Captain OBGYN Department Head and medical leave for a week. If you don’t have any more questions, I’ll see you next Wednesday.’
From that day onwards, the pregnant women in my office were allowed to PT any time during the workday that they wished to as long as they did it 3x/week.
This meant that we were all now able to attend the 10 am pregnancy yoga classes. Amazingly, work production did not go down because we are (surprise!) effective at getting our work done regardless of what time we started. Except now, LPO had to do all the heavy lifting and live electrical work until we got someone to show up who did not have such limitations because the women were all suddenly issued new medical chits signed by Captain OBGYN Department Head, specifically preventing them from doing such things; with relevant Naval instruction highlighted and stapled to their chits.” CabaiBurung
10. Call Me Out For Not Checking IDs? Yup, Yours Is No Good Here
“I work in a casual fine dining restaurant in a downtown area.
Prices aren’t crazy but high enough that we don’t get a super young crowd. The average age of our dinner crowd is 30 to 60 although it varies more on the weekend. I only include this information so you understand why I didn’t initially ask for identification (even though you should always check).
Thursday night a table of 4 comes in for early dinner; two entitles moms and their daughters. Excellent. I’m ready for them to split entrees and tip me 15%.
Not the WORST type of table if we’re being honest, but nonetheless. They order a pitcher of sangria and I tell them I’ll be right back with that for them to which mom #1 says to me, ‘You really aren’t going to check these girls IDs? Her birthday was just last month.
Aren’t you supposed to check anyone who looks under 40?’
She is correct, of course, that I should have asked for identification even though the girls were with their mothers and I was being lazy by assuming they were of age since their moms did not stop them from ordering drinks.
I agree with her and tell her that I actually am supposed to check ALL IDs regardless of age and proceed to look at all 4 of the ladies’ IDs. Unfortunately for mom, her birthday was a few days previously and her ID had expired. In the state of Michigan, it is illegal to serve alcohol to anyone with an expired ID regardless of age so I had to deny her a glass for the sangria while her daughter and friend shared a pitcher.
She also threw a fit when I denied her a glass of sangria. She informed me that she, a business owner, is more aware of the law than I, a mere server, could ever be. I simply couldn’t ‘just do my job’ and bring her a glass. My generation doesn’t respect elders and blah blah blah. Her daughters were a little embarrassed but I tried to move past it and serve them the rest of their meal normally.
Mom kept huffing and puffing but said no when I offered to bring a manager over.” SalviaMoria
9. Natural Color Hair Only? Black And Blonde Doesn’t Count
“A couple of years ago, I worked retail in a store geared towards children.
A very…. magical store. Lots of princesses, superheroes….rodents. You get the picture. Our store had about 25 female employees (including all of the management) and 3 male employees.
The dress code was incredibly strict.
We had a uniform that had to be ironed all the time, no visible tattoos, only natural hair colors, women were encouraged to wear makeup and style their hair, men were either to be clean-shaven or have fully grown in facial hair.
For some reason, one particular manager was intent on nitpicking me regarding the dress code, even when I was in complete compliance with it. I was constantly told that I needed to iron it better, so I started getting it dry cleaned and somehow that still wasn’t enough.
I wore very minimal makeup and she constantly told me I should wear more (though she couldn’t make me). Hair bows were a big thing at the store and people made and gave as presents custom ones highlighting characters. They weren’t exactly against the dress code, but they did push the limits. Regardless, this particular manager seemingly only had an issue with them when I wore them. Once, she got down on her hands and knees with a ruler to prove my pant hem was too long only to be proven wrong.
There were also some conversations about my appearance that looking back were definitely body shaming.
As a side note, this particular manager was a natural brunette but she dyed her hair black and bleached a portion of the hair underneath so that it would show. She was a self-proclaimed ‘bro-hoe’ if you need a more clear idea. Point is, her hair pushed the edge of what I would consider natural.
I got the itch to dye my hair and before working for the store, I had always loved to color my hair all sorts of colors.
However, with the dress code, only natural hair colors were allowed, so I came up with a compromise: silver. I went and had my hair professionally lightened and dyed silver.
The next day I worked, the district and regional managers were visiting the store. I was always picked to work those days because I had the best “stage presence” and knowledge of the company and those two were always impressed by me.
When I showed up to work that day with my new shiny silver hair, my store managers were appalled. They wanted to send me home immediately, and for whatever reason, they decided to talk to me in front of the higher-ups. This is a paraphrasing of the convo:
‘You’re in major violation of the dress code.’
‘How so?’
‘Your hair isn’t a natural color.’
‘Yes it is, gray is a natural color.’
‘But you aren’t gray yet.’
‘So?’
‘So it looks unnatural to be all gray.’
‘Are you saying that we can’t dye our hair at all if it’s not a color that would grow out of our heads naturally at this moment?’
‘No, you can dye your hair, it just can’t be obviously fake.
It needs to look real.’
I pointed at the manager who was constantly on me, ‘Your hair is half black and half bleach blonde. I feel like that looks more unnatural than my gray hair.’
I turned to the two the higher-ups and asked if I was in violation. They agreed with me that I was not. I also showed them one of my bows and they fawned over it and even asked me for directions on how to make one.
In the end, I got to keep my silver hair AND my bows and my manager was told that HER hair actually was a dress code violation and she had to dye it before coming the next day.” easy0lucky0free
8. What The Teacher Says, Goes
“So this happened years ago when I was in high school, but I smile every time I think of it.
My high school had a policy that anyone who has missed less than a certain number of school days could pick one class they had an A in to skip the final.
You could get a couple of extra days for college visits, but otherwise, it was very straight forward. Awesome policy and we all loved it.
One year, we had this kid who was in eighth grade and had been diagnosed with cancer. He spent a lot of his year sick, getting treatment, going to the hospital, running to the bathroom to throw up, etc. Despite all this, he finished the year with an A in his Spanish class.
It was his only highschool class, so it was the only final he would have been able to skip. The administration was not going to let him skip the final because he had missed too much school. He and his parents asked them to make an exception, given the situation, but the administration wouldn’t budge. His teacher stood up for him but was told this kid had to take the final no matter what.
He had missed too many days and there would be no exception.
The teacher said ok but told her class not to study for, worry about, or exempt her final.
Then, the first day all her students showed up for the final she told them to take out a piece of paper and number it 1-3 leaving one line in between each number. She then asked three questions along the lines of, ‘What is your name?’ ‘How do you say yes in Spanish?’ and ‘How do you say hello in Spanish?’ Then she collected the final.
Everyone got a 100 that year, and she became a legend. The kid has been cancer-free for over five years now.” ConfusedContortion
7. You’re Not Budging Until You Get An Upgrade? Better Get Comfortable
“This one happened a few months ago at the airport in Madrid (Spain).
I witnessed it, but I am not directly involved with this.
I was seated near a gate, well in advance for my flight. The previous flight to use the gate was still boarding its last passengers.
It was a pretty short one to Lisbon, so probably less than an hour flight time.
In comes an entitled woman with her suitcase, going straight to the counter, and without any form of politeness starts complaining to one of the two gate agents. The conversation was more or less:
Entitled Woman: “I know you have a free seat in First (the airline publishes seat maps online). I am a loyal member of your airline.
Can you upgrade me?”
She slams a card on the counter
Agent: Entitled WomanI am sorry, but I cannot randomly upgrade people. Plus, you have an economy basic ticket, even if I could, we would upgrade any standard economy passenger before you. Finally, this is a silver card, while we do have gold and platinum members on this flight, that we would also upgrade first.’
You have to note that European airlines typically do not automatically upgrade passengers as in the US.
Also, the difference between first and economy is usually not that much: seats are the same, but in front of the plane, with a blocked middle seat and slightly better food.
That’s it.
Entitled Woman: ‘They have already boarded. If you don’t upgrade me, I won’t use this airline ever again.’
Gate Agent 2 makes an announcement about the final call for passengers, that the entitled woman ignores completely.
Agent: ‘Ma’am, I repeat that I don’t have the power to upgrade anybody as per airline policy.
It would not be fair to those who actually paid for the ticket.’
Entitled Woman: ‘The seat is free, I’m sure you can make an exception.’
Agent: ‘Once again, I cannot. But I would recommend you to board …’
Entitled Woman: ‘So, will you upgrade me, right?’
Agent (annoyed): ‘For the third time, this is not something I can do.
You are the last passenger we are waiting for, can you please go to the gate?’
Entitled Woman (yelling): ‘I WON’T MOVE FROM THIS COUNTER UNTIL YOU UPGRADE ME.’
Agent: ‘You should really…’
Entitled Woman: ‘Unless you are telling me I’m upgraded, I don’t want to hear about it.’
Agent: ‘Alright…’
Passes like one or two minutes.
Entitled Woman: ‘So, have you made up your mind and have me upgraded?’
Agent: ‘Actually, ma’am, the gate is closed. We are not accepting late passengers anymore. I would suggest you go to the customer service desk to rebook.’
Entitled Woman: ‘WHAT? I have been here for like 10 minutes.’
Agent: ‘Yes, but you refused twice to board the plane, and made it clear that you would not move from this desk until I upgrade you, which I told you 5 times I cannot do.
We couldn’t delay the plane because of you.’
Entitled Woman: ‘BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!’
Agent: ‘I’m sorry, but you made it clear that you didn’t want to hear about it if it was not about your upgrade, which, once again, I cannot do.’
At this moment, the entitled woman left with at the same time a defeated and infuriated look. It was pretty fun to watch I have to say. I have no idea whether the entitled woman could be rebooked for free, but I hope not.” poumbo
6. Tell Me I’m Wasting Time? You’re The One Who’s Wasting My Time
“My boss is a lunatic who will often, without prompting, flip out and accuse me of wasting time.
(I literally do the work of five people. I run the office and the other employees, do invoicing, accounting, tech support, admin stuff, etc. but also graphic design, photography, website design, videography, content creation, and social media among others. I am dead by the end of every day, which is usually 12 hours long.)
This flip-out happens while he’s constantly interrupting me for stupid sh*t instead of letting me work. He has no self-awareness of this no matter how many times I try to point it out to him, and if something doesn’t get done, he again loses it and accuses me of wasting time.
A few months ago, he demanded a full account of my time. This was after he interrupted me repeatedly for discussions about his religion, and I was at the end of my f*cking rope.
Here is an excerpt from the Full Accounting Of My Time, as he requested.
11:45 – 12:20
Editing and working on hype video, including organizing, trimming, melding clips.
12:20 – 12:55
You stopped me for religious discussion, reading several Biblical parables aloud and explaining them.
1:00 – 1:22
Video editing, arranging clips in preparation for music and special effects.
1:22 – 1:54
You stopped me to show several lengthy Grant Cardone videos because ‘they annoyed you.’
1:54 – 2:29
Video editing, transferring files to HD for compilation.
2:29 – 2:40
You stopped me to have me watch a YouTube video of a duck.
**
In total, he took up 3 hours and 28 minutes of my day.
He’s mostly shut up about my ‘time-wasting.'”aperhapshand
5. You Want A Man’s Help? With Pleasure
“A couple of years ago, I worked at the big blue and yellow superstore as a member of the remodeling crew.
Our team consisted of about 30 workers from 4 different stores in the area. Our job was basically to move all the products and shelving around and putting up signage while also directing confused, frustrated customers to the new location of a product.
About a fourth of the employees on this team was Hispanic and spoke either very little or no English. I was (and still am) a Spanish minor so I liked hanging out with them because they really helped me with my Spanish speaking skills.
This is relevant later.
So one day, as I’m moving some cosmetics to their new home, I overhear a man say he hates this remodel because all the products have moved (we heard this basically 5 times a day, every day) and he doesn’t know where the drill bits for a DEWALT drill are. Luckily, I was moving the hardware product last week and knew exactly where the drill bits he wanted were.
Our conversation went like this:
Me: ‘Hello sir, I can help you find the drill bits, I just put them away last week.’
Rude Guy: ‘I’m looking for a specific set of drill bits.’
Me: ‘I know what section they are all in and I’m sure I can help you find the ones you are looking for!’
Rude Guy: ‘Well I was actually going to ask a male employee, they know more about this stuff.
Plus I see you’re busy putting makeup away.’
Me: ‘Really sir, I’m not busy, let me show yo –’
Rude Guy: ‘No! I want a male employee! You won’t know what you’re talking about.
Just find me one!’
I felt a bit defeated as this happened with female employees a decent amount of the time even though we all know where all the products are. Luckily for me, I knew the perfect employee to ask.
I went up to one of the Hispanic workers I got along with well, I will call him Mr. L, and in my best Spanglish explained the situation. He just smiled and nodded.
I took Mr. L over to Rude Guy and the conversation went something like this:
Me: ‘Here you go sir, Mr. L will be able to help!’
Mr. L: ‘¿Cómo te puedo ayudar hoy?’ (How can I help you today?)
Rude Guy: ‘What did he say?’
Mr.
L: ‘Puedo ayudarte a encontrar las brocas.’ (I can help you find the bits).
Rude Guy: ‘This guy only speaks Spanish! This doesn’t help at all!’
Me: ‘Well sir, you wanted a male employee and I got you one. Everyone else in the area is busy so either he helps you or I help you.’
Mr. L: ‘Estaría encantado de ayudarte, cabrón.’ (I would be happy to help you, b*stard).
Rude Guy: *huffs and turns to me* ‘Fine, I guess you can show me where the drill bits are.’
And I did! I knew exactly where they were, Rude Guy found the exact set he wanted and left.
It just goes to show, you shouldn’t undermine an employee because many of them know what they are doing. I didn’t stay at that job long and now work a job I love at my university’s library.”MaddChica
4. Say What I Need To Say? I Won’t Even Sugarcoat It
“So I have worked in IT most of my life
One day, it was slow, so the manager asked me to check the firewall logs for anything dodgy.
Pretty soon I find indications of a female staff member accessing some racy content of the adult nature.
This staff member had a reputation for blaming her slow productivity on her computer/network/mouse etc so she was given no quarter.
I go up to the large office where she was is surrounded by many other staff members but her monitors are facing a wall and only she can see them.
I politely as to speak to her in private for a moment in a meeting room.
Her response. ‘No, I don’t have time I’m too busy.’
Again, I quietly said it would be in her best interest to have this conversation discreetly.
She says, ‘Look! Stop wasting my time and say what you need to say.’
I pause. Clear my throat and say loud and clear, ‘OK the IT manager has asked that you stop accessing lewd adult material on your work computer.’
There’s a moment of stunned silence where the staff member turns scarlet red and everyone looks at her including her manager.
I say, ‘Ok, see you later.’ And I turned and left the office.” warmachine83uk
3. Show A Receipt? Ok, I’ll Take The Mode Of Transportation That Offers Them
“I used to travel for work fairly often, and the company I worked for had very strict reimbursement policies. You had to have a receipt for EVERYTHING or you wouldn’t get refunded for it.
On one trip I was staying in the center of a mid-sized city, but the training I was attending was in the suburbs.
There was a bus route I could take, and while it took a great deal more of my time it was WAY cheaper to take the bus than a taxi.
$1.50 bus fare vs. approximately $40 for a cab. Problem is, there’s no way to get a receipt for riding the bus.
So, I email my company’s business manager and explain the situation. Ask if I can please get reimbursed for the bus fare without receipts.
The response comes — no, any reimbursement requests without receipts will be denied, and I will have to cover the expense out-of-pocket.
Fine. Cab rides, twice a day, for a week. Totally allowable within company policy. Fares plus tips, the total taxi expenses come to almost $500. My boss questions the request, I show her the email from the business manager and explain that I tried to take the bus (which would have totaled $15 for the week) but was told it wasn’t reimbursable.
Over the following weeks, a heated discussion ensues between the business office and senior management. Two months later, there’s a new policy — reimbursement requests for anything over $10 must have a receipt. Under $10? No receipt required.” SugarWine
2. Want To Be A Penny-pinching Employee? I Won’t Be A Returning Customer
pixel2013“Virtually all restrooms in downtown Denver require a purchase to use the bathroom. Not a big deal to me, and I have no problem abiding by that rule.
Yesterday, I took the wife and kids downtown to shop around and eat dinner. We stopped in a little store where my wife bought a purse for just under $200.
We left and about 30 minutes later my daughter needed to use the restroom. We happened to be close to the same store, so we went into there to the same employee who rang us up to ask to use the restroom.
She said we’d have to make a purchase. I had my receipt and showed I did make a purchase, she was the one who rang us up. She argued that we’d have to make a purchase again now to be considered customers to use the restroom.
My daughter was struggling, so I grabbed a chapstick off the counter and bought that, while the employee gave me attitude like she just pulled one over on me.
She gave me the passcode, and my wife handed me her new purse and went to the restroom with our daughter.
The moment she closed the door I turned back to the cashier and demanded a refund on both the chapstick and the purse. She argued that I couldn’t do that, but I pointed to her sign saying there is a seven-day return policy, no questions asked. I took a picture of it with my phone and asked if she wanted to process the refund, or I’ll just have Visa do a chargeback and get my money that way.
She silently processed the returns just as my girls returned.
She tried to say something to my wife about me returning the purse, and my wife replied after her attitude, she didn’t want it anymore anyway.” sibre2001
1. Absolutely No Exceptions? That’s Absolutely Ridiculous!
“The nursing home I work in has gone through multiple members of management. Every time we get a new Director of Nursing (DON) we have a mandatory meeting where he/she will introduce themselves and the new rules they put into place.
One of the ghosts of DONs past was one I’ll call Karen. She had the haircut, the attitude, and the shrill voice.
The first rule Karen set into place was that one CNA (Certified Nursing Assitant) had to be in the hall at all times.
Absolutely no exceptions. We were seriously understaffed so it wasn’t always possible to always be in the hall. Being one the CNAs who have to work the hall alone a lot because there are no people who will come in to help, I, of course, tried to explain what the flaw was in her rule.
She did that “I’m the dominant one” head tilt and interrupted me to say “You don’t need to question MY rules.”
The next rule Karen set was that there would be absolutely no cell phone usage in the facility. All cell phones had to be left in our vehicles or in a basket next to the time clock.
No exceptions. This ticked off even the members of the administration. The scheduler will text people to ask if they will come into work.
The nurses use cell phones to communicate with the Director and DON when they aren’t in the facility. People grumbled but she yelled “These are the rules! If you don’t like it you can find another job! CNAs are a dime a dozen!” That is exactly what some of the CNAs did. We lost 4 more people right after that meeting, making us even more understaffed. This ticked me off because one of them was the best partner I ever had.
So here comes my petty revenge/malicious compliance.
The first day I had to work alone after that meeting, I kept her words in mind. One CNA on the hall at all times. No exceptions. One of our “VIP residents” hit the call light within 10 minutes of my shift, wanting some brownies from the kitchen. The kitchen is off the hall so I go straight to Karen’s office which luckily was in my hall.
‘Karen. I’m the only aide here and Ms. Kar wants some brownies from the kitchen.’
Karen: ‘Why are you telling me? Go get them for her!’
Me: ‘You said there has to be one CNA on the hall at all times.
I can’t leave the hall to get them.’
Karen: ‘Then get another CNA to go get them for you!’
Me: ‘You said we can’t use cell phones so I have no way to contact another aide.’
She gets up from her desk in a huff and gets the brownies.
When she returns, she shoves the brownies in my hands and says ‘Don’t bother me for petty mess again!’ OK! Even more compliance! Because she was stubborn, this malicious compliance went on for a few hours so I’ll shorten it into a list. No residents were harmed during the malicious compliance.
Keep in mind that this all happened within one shift.
I work in a very demanding hall with nearly 40 people on it.
Before you say that there shouldn’t be one CNA to 40 people. Trust me I know. 3 residents wanted to wash clothes or towels but I didn’t have any so I couldn’t go get them one. 5 more residents wanted snacks from the kitchen but I was the only CNA and couldn’t get them any. 2 residents wanted showers which I could have done but I wasn’t allowed to leave the hall to find an aide to watch mine while I did it.
The trash stunk like holy hell but I couldn’t leave the hall to take it out, so it stunk up the hallway and Karen’s office.
(I may have moved the trash bin closer to her door.)I couldn’t pass out ice water because I couldn’t leave the hall to get the ice cart. Supper trays came out and I couldn’t leave the hall to go get it. I’ll never forget the look on Karen’s face when I knocked on the door and told her that getting the residents fed shouldn’t count as petty mess so I needed her to go get the trays.
Luckily Karen was staying late and this didn’t last longer than this one day. The residents kept complaining and finally, Ms. Red, our nosiest resident who crashed the mandatory meeting, lead a lot of the complaining residents to Karen’s office.
One of those residents was Ms. Kar. She yelled at Karen so loud because she couldn’t get her ice that people started peeking around the corner to see what was going on.
Karen tried her hardest to diffuse the situation and explain to Ms. VIP why the rule was in place. Ms. Kar was having none of it. Karen didn’t know that Ms. Kar used to be a nurse and that’s why the Director of the facility made her a VIP.
After her tongue lashing, Karen came up to me, seething with anger. Through her gritted teeth she said, ‘You can leave the hall as long as it is at pertains to patient care!’ She slammed her office door so hard that something inside of it fell.
I heard her say ‘SH*T!’ on the other side of the door after the crash.
Karen didn’t last much longer after this because the facility had a lot of demanding residents and an even more demanding Director. I don’t know what was happening on the administration side but I hear horror stories all the time about it.
FYI – When it came down to the things the residents were requesting but I couldn’t get, I was going to get them anyway once Karen left.
Karen tended to stay until 8:00 sometimes and the day I worked alone happened to be one of those days.” VeryAngryCNA
How’s that for a healthy dose of malicious compliance? Who knew that doing exactly as you’re told could lead to really driving home a point, or exacting an act of minor revenge? There’s no harm here, no one got hurt in the process! Just a little bit of following the textbook down to the literal meaning! Have any similar stories to share? Tell us everything!
