People Fork Over Their Stories Of Malicious Compliance Revenge
25. Can't Refund Me For Just One Item? Okay, Then Refund The Entire Order
“Back in 2019, I was meeting up with a bunch of my extended family who were all attending the same wedding.
As a nice gesture, I decided to pick up lunch from Panera Bread (think soups and sandwiches) for everyone. So I take orders from about 15 people, pick up the order from Panera and make my way to the hotel where we will eat.
After we arrive and start eating I notice that I am missing an orange juice for my nephew. I call the Panera and explain that hey I never got my juice, could I get just the juice refunded? Mind you this is an over ~$120 meal and I’m just trying to get a few dollars back for the orange juice I didn’t get.
They say they are not allowed and give me another number to call. So I call the corporate number and explain the situation. They say they aren’t allowed to do partial refunds, only full refunds. So to clarify I say “you won’t refund the missing orange juice but they can refund the whole order?” Yes, that’s correct. So I requested a full refund (two phone calls plus the waiting) and it was granted immediately.
Thanks, Panera corporate!”
24. Think Paying In Pennies Is Going To Tick Me Off? It's Really Not A Problem, Sir!
He only made himself suffer in the end.
“Ages ago, I worked a front-line job at city hall, registering cars and dogs and collecting pay for parking tickets, property taxes, and the like. So, a basic entry-level municipal finance grunt, bottom of the food chain, nowhere close to being the one making the ordinances or rules, etc.
Grunt. This was before the days of taking credit cards and debit cards for such payments, before smartphones, and before the online banking world really began. Ages ago. Paper paper paper.
The city’s ordinance on tax interest stated that interest would accrue daily against any past-due tax bill at a rate of blah blah %per annum.
Property taxes were due quarterly. Many people would come in to pay on the tax due date. Many, many more would remit their payment by checks through the mail. We kept extremely thorough paper records of all payments received through the mail, retaining their remittance stub, the envelope bearing the postmark (which was the date we would use to calculate any interest if it arrived past the due date.
If the postmark was before or on the due date, no interest was charged.) These were batched daily by each clerk and filed by date in our vault so anyone who needed to could find any receipt/remittance fairly quickly. We needed to, often, as did the city auditor.
Anyway, business as usual, and the few days following the tax due we would always get a few stragglers through the mail, and the daily interest would have started adding up. Not by a lot – for most homeowners, this would amount to just a few cents a day.
We would send them a receipt in the mail with a note that they have a small balance now due to accrued interest, but we would hold it at the amount for 10 days. Most people would just send another check, some would ignore it, and others would come in to pay in person.
Finally, the stars aligned and I got one, a real peach of a gentleman who was extremely disgruntled that he got a bill in the mail for this “gosh darn interest bullcrap,” which he slapped down on the counter inches from my face.
He then slammed a repurposed melatonin bottle full of pennies down on top of the paper and said, “I hope whoever sent me this gosh darn bill has to count these gosh darn pennies!” at top volume for all of city hall to hear.
I could tell already that it was mine, I saw my initials on the receipt when he slapped it down. Cue malicious compliance.
I smiled as big as I could, said I would find out who had processed it, and took his receipt to the vault.
I didn’t even give him enough time to react, I just got up and went to the vault while cheerfully saying “it’ll just be a minute!” before disappearing from his sight. I found the paperwork, including his two days late postmarked envelope.
Then I sat down at my desk, took the melatonin bottle, looked him in the eye, and said “You’re in luck today, sir! I’m the one who sent this balance due to you so I will be able to count these pennies for you!” And I did.
I counted all thirty-nine of those gosh darn pennies, and I counted them one by one, very very thoroughly. It took him about 20 minutes to pay his freaking $0.39 from the minute that bottle hit the counter to the end of it.
I was extremely pleasant and cordial and smiling at him the entire time. It was just fun at that point so I kept pouring it on, just so sweet.
His face was practically purple by the end, and as he slunk out the door (without the smug satisfaction he was expecting when he slammed that melatonin bottle on my counter), I said “Have a great rest of your day! Weather’s beautiful!” And it was.”
23. Want Us To Continue Serving Customers Even After We're Closed? Six Hours Of Overtime, Here We Come!
They gotta close sometime!
“So my first job I ever worked at for a few years was a grocery retail store, with several different departments, including a deli for lunch meat and cheese, which is where I worked.
One night I was working 1 pm – 9 pm, 9 pm is when the deli and other special departments closed and we’re expected to be done and clocked out, but the rest of the store remained open 24/7 for general groceries.
It was me and one other guy, we had an especially busy night, and we were a little behind on our cleaning as a result but we had our meat-slicing machines already coated with sanitizer after working for 15 minutes to get all the little meat chunks and shavings out of every corner, as we were pretty serious about making sure those things were clean as can be.
It’s about 8:55 at this point, we’re almost late to leave and the store we worked for did NOT like overtime, if you were getting any amount of overtime you would get chewed out the next day for it, even for a little amount.
A woman walks up to the counter and starts looking through the product, as we had a glass case filled with a bunch of types of our lunch meats pre-sliced and ready to go for bagging up. She looks at one and says “I want this turkey right here, but I want it freshly sliced.” I of course look to my coworker and we both can see the 2 slicers we have are still covered in the sanitizer we use and are drying, as per the food safety protocol written on the bottle that says to allow 20-30 minutes MINIMUM for the sanitizer to dry after application.
I tell her “Well ma’am we really can’t do that right now, our slicers are both being cleaned at the moment as the department is closed in 5 minutes, but I’d be glad to get you something here from our cold case”.
“So you’re not gonna slice it fresh for me, that’s what you’re saying?”
I replied, “That’s correct, I apologize.”
Without another word, she walks away and my coworker and I go back to what we were doing, and we finish cleaning and go home after about 5 more minutes, narrowly clocking out on time.
Fast forward 2 days later, the same coworker and I come in and start getting to work like a normal day. At about 3 pm (two hours into my shift), I personally get called into the head honcho’s office. The “Store Director” as they’re titled.
I think nothing of it and head on upstairs and go inside the office and sit down, the store director hands me a piece of paper and says “tell me what caused this.” I look at the paper and it’s a printed-out screenshot of a Google review for our store, 1 star out of 5, and a full paragraph from that lady of 2 nights before complaining that she didn’t get her freshly sliced meat from “the rude employee” and then described specifically me.
I explained exactly what happened two nights prior, as clearly as I’m typing it out here. The director is getting heated and begins to cut me off while I’m speaking, asking “Why would slicers be covered in sanitizer at 8:55? You’re scheduled to work until 9 pm.” I said yes I am, but seeing as I’m constantly being reminded not to get any overtime I usually start cleaning them around 8:30 pm.
The director gets even more upset and raises her voice, “I don’t CARE, that’s not how it works! If you have a customer you SERVE them. And you’d better start making sure those shelves are FILLED before you leave or you won’t be working here anymore, now get out”.
I’m pretty salty at this point, I go back down to the dept and my coworker asked what happened, and I told him. He says, so they want everything done before we leave? I said yep! And without another word, he knew what we needed to do.
9 pm hits as usual and our shelves are at the usual standard of half full, but seeing as we’ve been given a new standard, we decided to stay and make sure we did what I was instructed to do. We spent the next several hours past closing time slicing, and slicing, and slicing until every single tray of meat and cheese was FULL.
We had plastic totes in the big fridge full of cheese that we sliced that were wrapped up in half-pound blocks for ease of sale, so we decided to fill that tub over the brim with every single type of cheese we had available.
We cut up around 70 lbs of cheese and wrapped it up in the fridge.
We also had a Subway-style sandwich counter, where we made sandwiches to order and also pre-made on the shelves for sale. We made double the usual amount of sandwiches and filled the shelves, as per requested.
Not a single shelf had a single empty spot on it by the time we were done.
After every single possible item and shelf was as full as it could be, we finally started to clean and close.
It was around 3 am when we finally left.
The department opens at 5 am. We were exhausted, but our spiteful overtime venture made us feel pretty good. We got about 6 hours of overtime in. They hated anyone getting even 5 to 10 minutes of overtime.
We both came in the next day at 1 pm as usual, expecting complete retaliation.
But nope, instead, our dept manager of the deli kinda saunters over to us and says, “Hey uh…you should be good to start cleaning up at 8:30 like usual. I think she (the director) got the point you made.”
Normally overtime would be asked to be taken care of by clocking out for lunches or coming in later than usual, but they let us keep all 6 hours of that overtime. They never said anything to us about overtime again after that. I accepted a job that paid almost double about 6 months after this incident and never ever went back to retail heck.”
22. Make The Entire Bag Of Macaroni And Cheese? Good Luck Eating It All
“My husband and I live in an area prone to hurricanes. This year we decided to buy some emergency hurricane food. They come in white little bags and you essentially rehydrate the food and cook it for 20 minutes.
Hurricane season came and went and thankfully we didn’t have to touch our emergency supply but being curious as to how the food tasted we decided to start cooking and trying them out.
We tried chicken noodle soup, stroganoff, and cheesy broccoli rice and they were all pretty good.
On this particular night, we wanted to try and make Mac and cheese which we both love. The supply came with powdered cheese and elbow macaroni in separate bags.
The cheese packet had instructions for both single-serving portions or you could make the whole bag of cheese sauce but would have to use two bags of elbow macaroni. Now I didn’t have a tablespoon and I love to follow instructions so I was struggling to get started without the exact measurements.
My husband told me “Just make the entire bag and add the water slowly.”
Now I personally am very picky with leftover Mac and cheese and my husband knows this. So I reminded him about my pickiness and how he’d have to be the one who finishes the leftover mac.
He said, “I’m fine with it, I don’t have a problem eating the same meal every day.” A little jab at me that we both giggled about.
I reply “Are you sure? This is what a single serving of macaroni looks like, keep in mind the pasta is going to expand.” He said he was sure.
So I got to work. I started making the cheese sauce and boiling water when I get a whiff of the sauce. It’s a strong, stanky cheese smell that I immediately know I’m not going to enjoy. I took a small sample and oof…
It was strong. So I told him “I’m out, this is all you. I’m gonna make myself some soup with an eggy.” He shrugged but agreed the cheese was aggressively stinky for a mac and cheese.
Well, halfway through the cook time, the macaroni expanded and I can see my husband’s brain working which I start giggling about.
He changes the pot of macaroni to a bigger pot now realizing how much freaking macaroni he committed himself to. We finish cooking and start to eat.
He’s got his plate of Mac and cheese and I’ve got my soup. I’m smiling as he struggles to eat the mac and cheese.
The cheese sauce didn’t exactly look good with the macaroni, kind of made it look dry, to be honest. Halfway through his meal he sighs and looks at the pot on the stove. Then looks at the plate in front of him and sighs again saying “My eyes were bigger than my head.”
We both laughed at his pain.
He finished the mac and cheese in like 4 or 5 days. Ate it for lunch and dinner even though it basically became a brick after being refrigerated. I will give him props for sticking to his word though, I would’ve straight-up chucked it in the trash.
I love him, bahahaha.”
21. You Want Extra Black Olives On Your Pizza? Here Ya Go!
“I used to work at one of the Top 4 most well-known pizza establishments. No, not the one named after a popular tile-based tabletop game, and not the one named after a father figure named Johnathan, or the one named after a small amount of a salad dressing named after a roman emperor.
That should narrow it down pretty well, right?
ANYWAYS, We had a customer who always called near closing and asked for ‘extra black olives.’
I would always put exactly what we were told to put for toppings, then add the exact amount we were told to put for ‘extra’.
Well, EVERY time these people would call back and say there wasn’t enough, that ‘the cook’ hadn’t put ‘extra’ black olives on… even though I definitely had, because I WAS the cook and the only one in store at this time since we would only staff 1 person in store (the MoD) and 1 or 2 drivers (10-11 pm).
So because I made the pizza, I knew their claim about there not being enough was nonsense, but part of our training for complaints was B.L.A.S.T. (Believe, Listen, Apologize, Satisfy, and Thank). So even though I knew there were plenty of black olives I’d make them another pizza and send it out.
A lot of times this would cause both myself and a driver to have to stay late, and these customers were extremely rude and NEVER tipped.
For some reason, they were always satisfied with the amount on the second pizza even though I just remade it and put the same amount of ‘extra’ on as the first one.
That was because they were just trying to get a 2nd pizza free, and it had worked for them numerous times in the past.
Well..after going through the same thing nearly once every week or two for a couple of months, I decided I was done and that I would play a bit of a game of my own.
The next time they ordered when they called and asked for extra black olives, I decided I’d just go ahead and put a little more than ‘extra’ on so they wouldn’t have to call back, right? Well, guess what, they DID call back and as always, very rudely claimed there weren’t enough olives (there were A TON of them).
It was at this point that I decided I would comply with their wishes. So on the 2nd pizza, I covered the entire top completely with black olives. You literally couldn’t see anything underneath them at all. The original ‘extra’ olives pizzas didn’t seem good to begin with, but to be honest, I knew this one probably wasn’t even edible.
The customer called back rudely yelling as expected, so I told them that I had put more than the amount we were supposed to for ‘extra’ on the first pizza and it wasn’t enough for them. So I made SURE I put enough on the 2nd that they wouldn’t have to call back for a remake since they loved black olives so much! I also told him that the jig was up, I knew they were using the black olive thing to get a free pizza, and that we weren’t going to be remaking any more orders for them.
Surprisingly they DID continue to order from us, but after that night they were always fine with the number of black olives on the first pizza sent out.”
20. Want Me To Speed Up My Work? I Can Go Faster
“I work at a paint plant, making water and oil-based paints from base chemicals. We also do the packaging of the paints. Currently, our main buyer is closed for 2 weeks, so we are barely making anything. On top of that, we are getting a new machine, and people are working on it today (Thursday) and tomorrow (Friday), so we cannot make paint again until Monday.
The packaging uses a compressed air pump and a trough with a spout at the lower end, we use a mallet to put the lids on, and stack 18 pails per pallet.
We had 2 batches of paint made, waiting a day for us to package them when we have nothing else to do.
We started with a water-based paint that goes into 5-gallon pails, usually 126 pails. On a normal day, it usually takes us about an hour and a half to package it, but, since we have nothing else to do for these 2 days, we are taking it extra slow.
I’m waiting to do something, as one of the 2 odd men out, so I’m just checking my phone, sending a snap every now and then. 4 other guys are using theirs as well. After a couple of pallets are filled, I start filling up pails.
I barely open the spout, letting a slow drizzle come out, the same as the others. It’s going a bit slower than theirs, though.
The supervisor sees and tells me to go faster because everyone is bored and waiting for pails. I have my phone out, sending a snap, so he says to me “you want to play on your phone? I’ll do your job for you then.
Go faster and get off your phone everyone is bored. I’ll do it for you, you want to play on your phone.”
I look at the 4 other guys on their phones and respond with “You’re going to complain to me about being on my phone? Only me?” And he just keeps saying the same stuff he said before.
So I get frustrated and say “alright, I’ll go faster.”
I put my phone in my pocket and opened the spout all the way to fill up the pails in just a few seconds instead of a couple of minutes. I end up filling 2 full pallets in under 10 minutes.
Probably half the time it would take on a normal day.
The supervisor goes next and opens the spout the same amount that I had opened before, letting it go slowly. We’re about to finish up, and I’ll be filling the last 2 pallets up just as fast as the others, giving us nothing to do for 2 days!”
19. Won't Promote Me Unless I Get A Degree? Guess I'll Have To Transfer Out Of The Department To Focus On School
“While I was a college student in the 80s, I accepted a job as a second-shift Computer Operator at a large regional bank. The job duties were processing all the checks and payments, printing statements and checks, running all the backups, and so on.
On the day I showed up for the job, I learned that I wasn’t getting that job but a lower one, which physically loaded the check readers, loaded printer paper, signed checks, burst forms, and so on.
The Lead Computer Operator had apparently threatened to quit if they didn’t promote internally and give the job to one of the current people in the position I just ended up in.
(They later got married so you can probably figure out her actual motive.) But, the Department Manager, Mr. Biggs, my boss’s boss, told me that I would be promoted to Computer Operator as soon as anyone left the position.
You guessed it! Two years later, no one has left the position, and we acquired another regional bank.
Our CEO told the CEO of the acquired bank that no employees would be fired so, suddenly, we had an extra Computer Operator on every shift. But, Mr. Biggs insisted I’d still get promoted because he knew I was the most computer-literate employee he had; something he used to his advantage in numerous side-projects which should have been paid at a much higher rate.
Six months later, one of the Computer Operators finally transferred to the Programming Department. I ask Mr. Biggs to promote me to the position and he told me he was working on it. A few months later he finally tells me that they still have too many Computer Operators because of the acquisition and I wouldn’t be promoted until more of them left.
Clearly, this wasn’t working, so a few months later another position opens in the Programming Department and I apply for it. Mr. Biggs signed the form allowing me to apply and wished me luck. The interviews went well and Programming wanted to hire me but a few days later the Computer Operator who transferred there told me, privately, that Mr.
Biggs went to the head of Programming and asked him not to consider me for the position because I was his “best employee” and he couldn’t afford to lose me. The head of Programming told him, “No. I’m going to hire the best person for the job.”
The next morning, the HR Director calls me to say that one of the Executive Vice Presidents wants to interview me for the position.
She’s flabbergasted because he’s never asked to interview anyone of that level and couldn’t explain why he wanted to now.
After the interview, the HR Director called me, apologized profusely, and told me they were giving the position to another candidate because he had a college degree.
No, it wasn’t related to the position in any way. The degree was from an unaccredited college that had actually asked me to teach computer courses there, which I’d turned down.
Of course, I knew what had really happened, so I told the HR Director that I hadn’t realized how important a degree was and that I would immediately switch to part-time instead of full-time, so I could take more hours of classes to finish my degree more quickly.
There are no part-time positions in Mr. Biggs’ department so it meant transferring to the department run by his biggest competitor within the company. She transferred me immediately at the same pay I was making in the previous department and I never worked for Mr. Biggs again.”
18. Mess With My Pay? Go Ahead, See What Happens
“Just before the spring of 2020, I worked for a small telecom company that did contract work for a national cell carrier. We’ll call them crap inc, and Big wireless.
I was hired on as a full-time employee for crap inc along with every other technician, and WE were not contractors (important later).
I was darn good at my job. I’ve been in the field for over 20 years, so I knew my stuff and most problems were easy enough to troubleshoot and repair. But sometimes we needed a second tech to help out with bigger issues which is understandable in our field.
Crap Inc was shady, unbeknownst to us at the bottom of the ladder, but we were about to find out.
About 4 months in, new orders came down the chain that from henceforth, “we were to do double trips on EVERY ticket.” This meant we had to drive out with no parts, assess a problem, then make a return trip with parts to fix it.
(2 trips = double pay for company). Even on simple things like pushing a reset button. TWO TRIPS…no excuses.
Then they began cutting our hours, tracking our every move, and redoing our timesheets after submitting them. With the excuse of “employees are stealing time and we’re gonna prove it.”
The latest rule was a good one.
“All employees must work a least 2 tickets each day in order to be considered for a full 8 hours of pay and 40 hours per week. No ticket, no pay.”
With this, they began holding mandatory bi-weekly meetings to go over every MINUTE of our trips, overlaying GPS data, timestamps, travel distance, etc.
They docked pay for gas station stops, pee breaks, phone calls, everything. They even tried to not pay us for these very meetings because our “trucks were off and couldn’t prove we were working.”
Buddy, I’m not a contractor. I’m a darn full-time employee.
…Enter glorious malicious compliance.
See, the thing is, I don’t take too kindly to people stealing from my paycheck and gaslighting me about it. And apparently, the other employees felt the same way. Give me one solid night of prep work and I’ll beat you at your own game.
The next weekend I held a meeting of my own with the techs and after some explanation, we all decided that the company was absolutely right. 2 tickets, 2 trips, every minute accounted for. And the GPS data to prove it.
Monday morning meeting rolls around, and every tech drove to the nearest site to have our mandatory 2-hour meeting. The trucks aren’t at home and running the entire time.
Our daily Tickets come in and we drive directly to the site, idle for 2 hours while we “check out the problem”.
Then do our second trip to get the parts, as instructed, and spend 2 hours fixing it. (Drive time not included.)
A Second daily ticket comes in and…what’s this? I can’t seem to figure out the problem. I guess I’ll have to call another tech who only had one ticket to help me.
Glad he was free. Let’s ponder this problem for 2 hours while wasting fuel.
Now we need parts. Looks like we both have to go get them. Return trip complete. Another 2 hours to kill…er fix the problem.
Let’s see how we did:
2 hours assessment +1 hour travel time (GPS logged) 2-hour return trip + 1 hour travel time (GPS logged)
2 hours assessment +1 hour travel time (GPS logged) 2-hour return trip + 1 hour travel time (GPS logged)
2-hour Meeting x 2 (GPS logged).
Hey boss… Crap inc owes every tech 64 hours of work this week…let’s check the math and GPS logs just to be sure.
Oh, and for some reason, the fuel expenses went up. But at least we have the GPS data you need for our extremely accurate PowerPoint presentation.”
Another User Comments:
“This company sounds like a lawyer’s dream.
I know fighting them with their own rules is fun but the setup is prime for a pro or even nuclear revenge if you push it.
Not sure what area you live in for employment laws, but if their official policy is so clear-cut and obviously fraudulent that they will be defenseless if you push them.
Big Mobile would probably want a chunk of them as well, and likely has the lawyers to get it. Going to them as a group and asking for either direct employment or to make your own company doing the same work could be the ultimate power play.” p0d0
17. Are You Sure You Want To Talk To My Mom? Fine, But She'll Side With Me
“I recently turned 15 & was able to drive my Golfcart by myself. I have had Turner syndrome since birth, which is a genetic mutation of the X chromosome that affects my hearing & height. I go to a good lottery high school (I had to win a lottery to get into the school) in my state which is known for being a highly academically inclined school.
An important piece of information for the story is that my golf cart can’t go over 25mph, the speed limit is 20mph in my neighborhood, & I can’t tell what speed I am going at because a golf cart doesn’t need a speedometer.
It was during June & was a nice day driving my golf cart. I turned the corner which led to a little straight before another turn & that’s when I first saw them, Karen, they were with their black dog & were talking to somebody when they tried for some unknown reason to step with their dog in front of my cart.
Luckily, I was paying attention & swerved out of the way, I was unable to comprehend what just happened. I later went home & told my mom what happened & she got mad.
The full event happened in early July. I was yet again driving my golf cart in my neighborhood when I saw Karen again.
I waved respectfully to Karen who yelled at me to slow down. Karen yelled that I was too young to drive a golf cart & that I should get my ‘mommy’ so she could talk to her about me not being supervised.
The compliance was about to commence. I did get my ‘Mommy’ who just happened to be a Cath nurse that treats cardiovascular diseases & does cardiac surgeries every day. My mom was red with anger when I called her in front of my house & yelled into the phone when I mentioned that Karen even tried to talk to me.
My mom got out there fast & told me to move to the passenger seat as she booked it to where Karen was. This is how the conversation went:
Karen: I had no idea it was you (me). I expected you to be driving like a maniac as you do.
Mom: Is she the one you mentioned?
Op: Yes mom.
Karen: So, you are this maniac’s mom, how dare you allow your young daughter to drive a car!
Mom: One she is 15 years old, second how dare you yell at my daughter, & three it’s a golf cart!
Karen: She literally almost ran into my friend!
Mom: Is this true?
Karen: You are easily raising a liar & a stupid daughter.
Mom: My daughter goes to Important School & is not at all stupid, also get your dog away from me.
Karen: They are friendly & don’t bite.
Mom: I don’t care, I see many instances in the hospital where I see many people bitten by dogs who ‘don’t bite.’
Karen: What type of nurse?
Mom: None of your business.
Karen went on about how I was a brat & my mom became somehow madder at her. My mom kept calm though it was Karen mentioning my height that set my mom off. My mom went into a loud tirade about how Karen shouldn’t mention my height since it is indeed a thing I am uncomfortable about.
The entire neighborhood heard of what she did.
Karen is now shunned by the neighborhood that she has lived in for 18 years. The lesson is to not mess with a mom who wakes up at 4:30 am to work and who is an amazing parent.”
16. Don't Work On Any Machines That Aren't On The Schedule? It'll Affect Product Flow, But Fine
“I work in a manufacturing plant for a multinational company producing microchips. I am the shift lead engineer on the night shift for the front end of the week (Sunday – Wednesday) so there is very little oversight from management except when I see them in the morning on my way out the door.
The machines we work on are huge (think greyhound bus size) and require fairly strategic planning to get the most we can out of them.
In recent months the day shift team has been slacking on their scheduled maintenance items. Normally this isn’t a big deal since we are understaffed just like just about every other company in America right now and we pick up the slack where we can on night shift.
The machines run 24 hours a day so if you have to pass work to the incoming shift it isn’t an issue and everyone tends to help out everyone. The problem comes in when the day shift or the other end of the week move scheduled maintenance off of their shift but don’t move it into our scheduled work calendar.
When the machines reach their critical threshold they shut themselves down until the work is performed. This is normally at midnight on days I’m working. Well as it happens this has been occurring more and more over the past few weeks and I’ve been letting my senior manager know that’s why we’ve been seeing an availability drop, not from lack of effort.
He is a newer senior manager so I tried to explain the critical thresholds to him and how we need to at least keep the calendar accurate so we don’t have any surprises by machines shutting themselves down unexpectedly. He didn’t really seem to want to listen to this and brushed me off telling me “If it isn’t on the calendar, don’t work on that machine.”
Cue malicious compliance.
On Sunday night when I get into work, the schedule is completely empty (not uncommon for weekends) but wouldn’t you know it 3 maintenance items had been moved from the back end of the week and were never rescheduled. So at midnight, 3 machines shut themselves down for maintenance, but I’ve been told if it isn’t on the calendar I can’t touch those machines.
I walk up to the production floor and tell all my technicians that we won’t be working on any of those machines as they aren’t scheduled for us to complete and per the area senior manager we don’t touch anything unless it’s on the calendar.
They’ve been getting more and more frustrated recently with this so their eyes light up as I tell them we won’t be completing any of the work.
Then comes Monday morning. I tell the incoming shift and my direct manager about the machines and they have a good laugh about the situation.
(It’s only roughly 2 hours of work per machine so I didn’t completely screw over day shift). And then I run into my senior manager on my way out the door and casually let him know we have 3 machines that have been down for 6 hours and needed to be added to the schedule so somebody can start working on them.
His eyes just about pop out of his head and he says “how could you let 3 machines sit down for half the night and not even start on them, were there other machines down that stopped you from getting to them?!” And I responded with “nope, you just told me if it isn’t on the calendar don’t touch it”.
His face went beet red and I saw the vein on his temple start throbbing, but he knew I was right.
Since then the calendar has been pretty dang accurate and if I see a tool going critical, he’s now informed me that I’m allowed to work on it to keep the product flowing.”
15. Require A Doctor's Note For Her Phobia? Here Ya Go
Severe phobias are a legit reason to miss work.
“My mom has one big “issue” I guess you could say. It’s bugs. She doesn’t do bugs at all. It comes from living in a tiny apartment when she was a kid where when she’d flip on a light, the roaches would go scurrying away.
She’d wake up with them in her hair and bed. She was a kid and grandma was in a bad spot so it was all they could afford but it scarred her for life. I used to come home from school to find my mom sitting on the front porch, working on her phone.
And I’d just ask where the bug was in the house the last time she saw it. She was out there for six hours once. I’d kill the bug and she’d come back inside.
Well, Missouri gets cicadas. And one year, we had the 13 and 17-year cicadas emerge at the same time.
We live in a house with a screened porch on the front and back doors. Not a screen door. A screened porch. Well, when the cicadas emerged, they clung to those screens. They were everywhere. You couldn’t look through the screens they were so thick.
So mom called out of work. I wasn’t in school yet but she also called my sister out of summer school.
By day three, with no end in sight of the cicadapocalypse, her work said she needed a doctor’s note. The ladies at work all knew about mom’s phobia and knew it was probably the cicadas that had set her off.
Even the lady who called her said she needed a note. The lady was nice though and apologized but said without a doctor’s note, the bosses were gonna cause an issue. Pretty much said, I’m sorry, but you have to eventually leave your house.
Well, that wasn’t happening. My mom called my doctor (she was friends with my pediatrician for years). She explained the situation to him. He was just like “really? You have to leave eventually” and mom explained that no she did not.
My dad (parents were divorced but fairly friendly) was bringing her groceries through the only unscreened window and she was not leaving that house until the cicadas all died off in six weeks. She didn’t care what he had to write on that note, she was having a mental breakdown, she had mono, she was dying, and she didn’t care.
But she needed a note for work and he was going to write her one. And he did. He faxed it to her work the next day.
Mom says when she answered the phone call from work, she could hear everyone in the office dying of laughter.
And the HR lady was like “alright, I guess we’ll be seeing you in six weeks”.
Mom can’t even remember what excuse the doctor went with anymore. We spent those six weeks playing cards and doing puzzles. Honestly, it would be a pretty fond memory for me if it wasn’t for the fact that I still remember the army of cicadas on the screens.
Cicadas are the one bug that I will sacrifice my mother to just so I can get out of the house before her. Nope nope nope. I don’t really feel bad though, she and my sister once bailed out of our moving van when they realized that a spider was on the inside of the windshield.
Left me with the child locks in the back. Although I’ll admit, I bailed with my mom that time my friend accidentally released a cricket in the van (we were going fishing but my other friend managed to reach over the console and hit the brakes). Okay, my family may have a problem.”
14. Want The Machine To Go Faster? You Got It!
“I work as a Medical Laboratory Scientist (MLS) in a fairly large 600-bed regional hospital. I’m the one that runs all the tests your doctor orders on your blood and other body fluids. Our testing areas (or “benches”) in the lab are chemistry, hematology, coagulation, urinalysis, blood bank, and microbiology; each of which has several analyzers (machines ranging from the size of a microwave to the size of a hippo) used for testing different things.
I work nights so it’s just a skeleton crew in the lab – two of us MLS lab techs, one lab assistant, and two phlebotomists who double as specimen processors. As you can imagine, things get pretty busy with those many benches to cover for that many patients and just the two of us to cover them.
Between Level 1 Traumas being flown in from all over the western half of our state and the eastern half of our neighboring state, heart attacks, surgeries, substance overuse, sepsis, meningitis, cancer, etc. it’s hard to keep up!
Additionally, much of the testing takes upwards of 15-20 minutes or more to run on the analyzer, depending on the test, and some a lot longer than that.
Most of the nurses and doctors understand our constraints, and while we do get the occasional call asking when results will be ready, they mostly leave us alone.
Well, last night I had a doctor calling for the results of a hepatitis panel.
These are not usually considered STAT tests, but this one was ordered as such so I got it running right away. But the panel takes a long time to run, anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and 45 minutes depending on if it is reactive and reflexes to further testing.
The doctor called me after I’d only had it on the analyzer for 15 minutes. I informed him it would be at least another half hour, maybe as much as an hour and a half longer, and he told me that was ridiculous and said that it had never taken that long before.
I said I was sorry, but that was the only estimate I had to give him.
Thirty-five minutes later the doctor walked into the lab. For those who don’t know, this is an extremely rare occurrence. We see nurses and CNAs all the time, but doctors are “too busy” to ever come down themselves unless it’s a dire situation.
Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”
Doctor: “Are you the one I talked to on the phone earlier? Is my hepatitis ready yet? I’m not seeing it in the chart.”
Me: “Let me check. No, it looks like it’s still running. The current estimate is another 30 minutes, and I’ll be sure to release the results to the patient’s chart as soon as it’s finished.”
Doctor: “Thirty more minutes?! That’s insane! You told me 30 minutes on the phone 35 minutes ago!”
Me: “I told you at least 30 minutes, and said it could be as much as an hour and a half.
Thirty more minutes is actually right in the middle of my original estimate.”
Doctor: “This is totally unacceptable! You need to do something to make that machine go faster!!”
I had about reached my limit with this guy so at that point I turned around and walked the few steps over to the analyzer in question, leaned in close to where I could hear the machinery buzzing along, and yelled, “GO FASTER!!” as loud as I could.
When I turned back to the doctor I noticed his face was an odd shade of purple as he turned around and stomped out of the lab without another word.
He could write me up for unprofessionalism, but not without revealing himself to be a total jerk in the process, so I think I’m safe.”
13. Demand To Be Addressed Properly? If You Say So
“I (43 F) am a learned landscape gardener, but due to an accident many years ago, can no longer work the actual craft. In 2020, after 12 years of being a stay-at-home mom, I began working in the office of a quite large landscaping firm.
My position was Assistant to Management, with Jack, one of the COOs, as my direct boss. At the time, I did mostly supporting paperwork. A couple of months later, the company hired Becky as a junior manager. She had just finished her master’s degree, and this was her first “real” job, so she had a LOT to learn, and to gain experience.
In the beginning, she relied on me for the paperwork and how our programs worked, and I thought we got along well, even though we were as different as two people can be.
In spring 2021, there were some changes made. For once, our whole department moved to new office rooms, and Becky and I were put in the same office.
Also, I was taken out of day-to-day paperwork to work exclusively on surveying, to get all the measurements needed to correctly bill our clients. At about that time, our problems started. I am on the ADHD spectrum, so I have habits of unconsciously fiddling, or talking to myself, and other stuff, that bothered her.
She needed absolute quiet while working, whereas I prefer to hear music over headphones. Every time she told me something I did would disturb her, I tried to stop myself from doing that, be it mumbling, listening to music while she is in the office, or even drinking coffee because “your slurping is disgusting.” (Coffee is hot, duh?) I was not allowed to comment on anything concerning her (I am a terribly curious person), and so on.
Even though I love my job and anyone else in the company, that daily repression made me not want to go to work in the morning.
It came to a fist head when one of our foremen was in the office. She gave him a task, he was annoyed, and I made a fun little comment that made the foreman chuckle (lightened his mood as intended).
But after he’d left, she exploded on me about how dare I undermine her authority, and how unrespecting of her position and person I was, after all, SHE was a manager (junior, but who counts?), and I was merely the assistant.
She went to Jack to complain about me, how she could not work with me when I was so obnoxious, yadda yadda… Long story short, Jack is a super chill boss, he talked to me to hear my side, and three days later I moved all my stuff into another, smaller office, where I work ever since.
As I mentioned, I do the surveying for all managers’ projects who need it, and also for Becky. And she was very particular about how the plans had to be laid out, which items had to be on them, and so on.
So when I did a survey and drafted the plans, we had to have several discussions and corrections about minute details none of the other managers cared about. Everybody else, when I had a question regarding their projects, I would go to their office, see if they were free, and ask for the information that I needed, if I could not draw it from the documentation.
Not with Becky. She demanded I make appointments with her to schedule meetings to talk about these issues. That dragged work on her projects to absurd lengths. Also, she would give me deadlines for finishing, and then take one to four weeks before even looking at what I had made.
THEN she would want to discuss that when I was already at the next project over. It was a pain.
In December 2021, we had another falling out when she questioned me about a project that I had finished in October and got mad when I could not immediately recall all the details.
I mumbled something like “Maybe assemble the bill not 2 months after finishing the project,” and she blew up. “How dare you tell me how to do my work! I know what I am doing, and don’t have to put up with a lowly assistant!” I left, and luckily, that was the last day of work in 2021.
In 2022, work started with Becky calling me to her, and instructing me on how we would proceed in the future. I was not to talk to her while working unless she approached me first, or if we had a scheduled meeting.
Also, I was only to talk to her about the tasks she had assigned me, nothing else, as it was not my position to tell her how to do her job. Breaks were fair game, but by then, my interest in making conversation with her had faded.
So, that’s how it went.
At this point, I have to mention that as part of my job, I sometimes look at the charts of work that has already been done – how much soil has been brought in, how much of which materials have been used, etc.
to get an idea of what needs to be included in the survey. In Becky’s lists, I sometimes noticed typing mistakes, like the surveyed amount of square meters entered when the volume (cubic meters) was demanded, which resulted in too high bills, which led to complaints by the client and a reduction of the bill.
I tried to tell that to Becky, but she stopped me before I really began, pointing out again that I had to focus on my job, and not speak to her unless addressed by her first. O-kay. For other managers, I would simply have corrected the mistake after a quick consultation, but for her – nope.
In the following months, I noticed a couple of these mistakes in her projects, but I kept my mouth shut. Also did not go to Jack about it, because I did not want to appear like I was blackmailing her or something.
Over the summer, I noticed more and more mistakes, and how projects that had been finished in the spring had still not been billed. But somehow Becky found the time to go on summer vacation – twice. I noticed undocumented items, false entries, lacking entries, and other mistakes in the lists of her projects, and said – nothing.
In early August, she had finally assembled the bill for one of her bigger projects that had been finished months ago and forbade anyone to talk to her while she worked on the next.
Then I received an email. The client who had received the aforementioned bill had rejected it, due to the number of mistakes and lack of confirmability.
I had been CCed as the surveyor – but the problem was not my surveys, but that Becky had not transferred the results correctly. The client denied payment and demanded an immediate correction. The sum was around 250,000€, money the company had been waiting for, for months by that time.
This was serious, so I decided to break my silence and tell Becky. She saw me through the glass door, and before my hand touched the handle, she yelled “Don’t talk to me!” Well, then… what’s a girl to do? Wait.
For about 15 minutes, until my super chill boss, who’d been walking his dog over lunch break, returned to his computer. Of course, he had been CCed as well, and his roar made the walls shake. Jack went to Becky’s office and tore her a new one, afterwards came to me and asked me to please correct the lists as far as I am able.
In the following days, he went through all of Becky’s projects, and needless to say: She’s been gone since September.
She wanted me to do everything her way, and I tried to comply with so much crap. In the end, I complied so much, it got her fired.”
12. Want Your Couch Cushions Firm? Gotcha
“My dad is very picky about his sofa cushions. He does not like sinking into the couch he’s sitting on and prefers some structure.
If you know anything about sofas you know that after a while of breaking in a new couch, the cushions get softer and (should be) more comfortable.
Well, one day, my dad got sick of “sinking” into the couch and decided to get these cushions re-stuffed. So he went to whatever place they got their couch to consult the firmness of the cushions.
Well, whatever the store offered, even the firmest option they offered, my dad wasn’t too happy about it.
They were all too soft for him and reaffirmed that he likes them FIRM and asked the consultant to make them so as much as possible, beyond what the store typically offers.
And so, the cushions are sent away for about 10 days and in that time my parents went on vacation and I was left alone at home with a couple of cushion-less couches.
Then it happened. A couple of days before returning from vacation, the re-stuffed cushions were delivered. I brought them in and unwrapped the over-stuffed cushions. They looked more like luxurious building blocks than they did cushions, and they couldn’t even fit together back into the couch because they were so thick.
Can confirm though, if you tried sitting in them, you wouldn’t be sinking in them anytime soon. Needless to say, they were NOT comfortable.
I called my parents and explained the situation and they didn’t totally believe me until they came home and saw how awful they looked.
Dad wanted them to work so much but under his grumbles knew where he went wrong and had to admit the cushions had to be returned to be stuffed at the levels offered.
Our couch went back to normal and although my dad’s content he’s not satisfied.
Today we’re getting brand new couches. I guess he got sick of the couch we had.
Shout out to the consultant and whoever fulfilled the order because my family still holds it against my dad to this day. He was taught a valuable lesson.”
Another User Comments:
“I had a saggy couch like that. Instead of messing with the cushions, I cut a piece of plywood to go under them. Problem solved!” Artor50
11. Demand Extra Sauce? We Got You
“I was working at McDonald’s about 10 years ago.
Despite what people might think, there’s actually a lot of work involved, since we only had 6 people trying to do the work of 20. Likewise, getting yelled at all day in a 100+ degree kitchen (37C+) is also less pleasant than other jobs I’ve worked.
“Oh, what’s that? Drive-thru needs 20 McDoubles and you only have 19? Gee, I wonder if the front counter took one of your McDoubles. If you insist, I’ll make an extra McDouble for you. Oh hey, what do you know, we have an extra McDouble now.” Just the smell of grease now makes me want to smoke, even though I quit 5 years ago.
Does that mean I think everyone deserves $15/hr? Irrelevant. No matter how much someone makes, treat them with dignity, not like they’re some animal just because they’re making sandwiches for you. We’re all human beings, and we’re all deserving of love.
You can’t pay me enough to take that away, and you can’t pay me too little to deem me unworthy of that.
I say all that just to say, I worked as hard as I could every single day, but sometimes, things just rubbed me the wrong way so much that I completely acted like a fool over it.
This was one of those times. I realized at that moment, “I could probably get fired right now.” I realize looking back, “I’m really lucky I didn’t get fired for that.”
Here’s what happened:
A guy comes in and asks for a McDouble with Mac sauce.
So, I make a normal McDouble, and I put a shot of Mac sauce on it. We now have a McDouble with Mac sauce. Crazy concept, I know.
The manager comes back a minute later making a big scene.
Manager: THIS GUY WANTED MAC SAUCE! GIVE ME A MCDOUBLE WITH MAC SAUCE ON IT ASAP!
I’m pretty sure the whole lobby could hear it, maybe even people in the parking lot.
Me: I put Mac sauce on it.
Manager: THEN PUT EXTRA MAC SAUCE ON IT!!!
Ok, so it’s extra Mac sauce you want? Oh, I’ve got extra Mac sauce for you friend! Here’s one extra shot. And here’s another one just for your trouble! But wait, that’s only one extra Big Mac’s worth! Did you possibly want an extra Big Mac’s worth? Here’s another 2 shots for you!
12 shots of Big Mac sauce later, I thought, “I hope this is sufficient for him!” What we actually had at this point was a pile of Mac sauce with a side of McDouble.
If anyone was paying attention, they could see the Mac sauce oozing into the paper.
Me: One McDouble, EXTRA Mac sauce!
It gets sent out.
A few minutes later, the manager comes back, looking very disappointed. The customer is looking at me like I just got done robbing his house.
The manager says, “Ok guys, this is completely disgusting. Can we please get a McDouble, with just a little bit extra Mac sauce?”
What was that? “PLEASE?” Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Why yes, you may have a McDouble with a little extra Mac sauce!
The new McDouble got sent out, the man enjoyed his meal, and we all lived happily ever after.”
10. Want Me To Break The Law? Okay, Boss!
“I used to work as a spare parts estimator for a fairly niche industry. My job was essentially to work out what parts of our main product the customer wanted, find out how much it would cost us to make, add a little markup, and send them a quote.
My boss was pretty strict on traceability so everything needed to be recorded, including why a certain markup had been applied to a particular product.
The normal value of these quotes is somewhere between $200 and a few hundred thousand. Very rarely do we get orders for anything more than that (once or twice a decade in my experience).
A request for quotation landed on my desk when I was working from home at one point, and it was a biggy. Just looking at the list of parts the customer wanted, this was going to be an absolute killer, over a million pounds all by itself.
I was told by the sales guy that if this one went well, there was another to follow of an even bigger size, ultimately looking at ten million over the next four years. So I set to work.
Normally I can do five or six of these quotes in a day, but this one quote took me six weeks to put together.
I was in constant contact with 20+ vendors getting specifications, technical details, prices, and lead times for over four hundred items. Finally, my masterpiece was complete.
Then came the snag.
The sales guy then says that because of the country this customer is in, they need to have four or more quotes in from different customers in order to get it cleared by their government (some anti-corruption policy that had been instituted).
We were the OEM of the product and there’s nowhere else on the planet they could get these parts from, so we’d have to work through third parties to get it done, and he knew just the guy.
In comes a one-man band with a dodgy-looking entry at companies house to save the day.
The sales guy and he go way back, so he was going to be the “preferential supplier.” I was asked to do the normal quote to him, then to bump the prices up by 30% and send that to three other companies who had been asking about it so they would absolutely not get the contract with the end user.
I argued the point, saying that the whole purpose of the anti-corruption policy is to prevent situations exactly like this, but I was overruled. The COO of the company now tells me to just do it over a phone call, at which point I request that in writing before I go ahead and do it.
Fast forward two years and there’s still no order been placed. Then I find out through a different sales guy that the One Man Band has been put on a blacklist by this country’s government over this project, the other three companies have been turned down, and the end user is asking other companies to come in and take our product out and replace it with their own.
A huge investigation is called for by senior management, my quote is ripped to pieces and examined in microscopic detail, and the question gets asked “why did you give different prices to these other three when you knew it was all to do with anti-corruption, we should fire you! That’s millions of pounds of orders you’ve lost us!” Out comes the email from my little black book, on the desk it goes, everyone suddenly gets veeeeeery quiet, and the COO starts packing his desk in a box the next week.
And the moral of the story is, if someone tells you to do something borderline illegal, make sure to get it in writing.
For those asking about the legality of what I did, because all of the third parties were outside of the country where the anti-corruption policy was in place, I didn’t personally break any laws.
Whilst the anti-corruption policies are in place for the end-user, the worst the government can do is put us on a blacklist so all of our bids in the future are either refused outright or looked at in far more detail than others might be.
I did investigate this at the time, and if there were going to be any implications on me that my company wouldn’t have been responsible for, it would have been a flat no. I was acting against the intention of the policy, but not expressly breaking it.
Do not do something illegal just because your boss told you to.
The issue as far as the company was concerned was the lost millions in revenue and the damage to their reputation (the end-user is a huge company with contacts and is in a reasonably close-knit industry, people talk).
They ultimately wanted a scapegoat to parade in front of the board to explain why the multi-million-pound deal they’d all been talking about for the last two years had suddenly vanished.
I did also look at the OEM angle at the time, but because we aren’t the only company that makes this TYPE of product, it didn’t appear to be possible to use this as an exception (the reasoning being that the option existed to replace our system with a competitor’s).
After posting this, I did a bit of research into the final customer and their VP of Finance did some fairly well-publicized jail time a few years back for buying an oil rig for the company at a suspiciously low price, so there was no way we would have been able to convince the government that everything was above board with a direct sale.”
9. Make Me Have My Phone On Me At All Times? I'll Even Answer Your Call When I'm Pooping
Talk about awkward.
“This happened in 2018 to me. I was a member of the Canadian Military at the rank of Private, so the lowest on the totem pole, we were and still are so criminally understaffed that one person can end up doing multiple jobs by themselves.
I was 27 at the time so I am by no means a naive young adult either.
I was working in a section by myself with little training when my newly posted in Sgt took over command. We got along pretty well but he has some quirks.
This man has been through two conflicts as an Infanteer at this point so he is very much a “company” man. He lives and breathes being a soldier. Me? I’m a logistics nerd who just needed a paycheck. I find all the posturing and acting tough pretty cringe.
After a month or so I end up being put in charge of another section due to no one else being very computer savvy. I am able to do both sections worth of work by myself through a masterful use of this forbidden magic spell the old folks called Excel.
Here’s when the problem begins to start.
My Sgt is old school. He wants everything done on pen and paper or over the phone. I do not smoke anymore at this point so I only get up from my desk to pee or crap.
Just so happens that when I get my morning crap after my coffee is when the rest of the base shows up and reads their emails so they try to call me.
Sgt gets very upset with me not being around to answer the phone.
I tell him I do not get breaks like him and everyone else who smoke so I don’t think I should be punished for taking a crap. If it’s important they will call back.
Nope, this is the military, in his day, you crap when you got the chance and your duty comes first.
Ok, Sgt. He orders me to get a cordless phone for the sections and I will carry it with me while on duty in the hangar. I nod and smile. I can do that no problem.
Now, I also am a powerlifter, so why does this matter for the story? Well because with my high-protein diet, my craps are freaking gross.
Well, that and my drinking problem, but anywho, so I take the phone and put it in my uniform when I get up and go to the restroom. I never intended to actually answer it until my Sgt asked me once as I was walking by if I had the phone.
Oh, I freaking had it alright. Also, I felt a super Saiyan-level turd on deck that day. As I am fighting for my life on the porcelain throne I hear the phone go off and I answer it. In between greetings I grunt and scream, my customer was a Warrant Officer for the Search and Rescue squadron, and he asked if everything was ok.
I laughed and said my boss told me to be reachable at all times and I was on the crapper.
He hung up. The next day my RSM (Top boss for our non-officers) called my Sgt into his office. I was told after that he was just kidding about the phone going everywhere and did I actually take it to the bathroom.
I told him well Sarge I’m just a dumb private I dunno nuthin in my best Sgt Doofy impression. You say take my phone everywhere, so I did.
I guess the WO was not impressed and called my Sgt’s boss.
Can’t say I don’t follow orders.”
8. Force Employees To Take Unpaid Vacation? Okay, But You'll Regret It
“This was when I finally decided to leave my role as the sole account manager for a marketing/web design firm. While leaving past jobs gave me “graduation goggles” AKA short-term regret/second thoughts, everything this time around made me want to leave yesterday.
But as I did more and more job interviews each lunch break, there was one thing I had to check. You see, the year before I carefully planned my May vacation for only as many vacation days as my second year at the company provided.
Lo and behold I returned home and was shorted a check by a few hundred $$. I emailed one of my two bosses (Boss1) to learn that while a 2nd-year employee earns X days over the course of the year, I simply hadn’t accrued all my paid days off yet.
My time off was approved, but only a couple of days were paid.
My partner who worked in upper management explained that this is because if an employee quits in January, you don’t want to have to pay them their entire year’s worth of vaca out at once.
Annoying, but at least it made sense.
Flash forward to me preparing to leave. My specific question was, at what rate do I accrue time off? I didn’t want to be done on 2-28 if I’d accrue like, two or so days on 3-1 and miss out on a better payout.
And no, I was not putting up with this job’s crap for several more months for a big Christmas payout, though I wished I’d planned it better! One night I found my employee handbook with my man’s management eye to help read the policy.
Turns out it didn’t matter: “(Company Name) doesn’t pay out for vacation days earned, whether the employee leaves voluntarily or involuntarily.”
Now I was just livid. If you’re not paying out vacation days ever why accrue them and not just give them all out at once? Either accrue the days to avoid massive payouts, or don’t pay out ever, and give everyone their allotted lump sum for the year on 1-1 (our fiscal year was the calendar year).
I asked Boss2 about this (not letting on my planned exit) and she cheerfully responded, “Yup! We want employees to take the time off they deserve and not bank it.” Such a sweet, “self-care” sounding thing.
When I gave my notice, my bosses convinced me to give 3 weeks.
I was ordered to complete a five-page “exit doc” for my team and successor. My bosses rushed their hiring process so I could “train” my replacement one day. Client spreadsheets HAD to be updated, a new one needed to be created, and I was still performing my regular job duties which were already too much, hence my leaving.
BUT my third year = 3 vacation days right off the bat. In a moment of malicious compliance, I looked forward to taking off every Friday through my departure. After all, I needed to “use the time off I’d earned!!!” since there’d be no payout.
Boss2 was already on edge over… everything… and her immediate response was, “can you take Fridays off and still finish your exit doc and duties?” We were also short-staffed and others would be OOO, she said.
It. Did. Not. Matter. I had 3 days to use and 0 payout options.
My boss responded, “let me talk to (Boss1).”
I did not get my Fridays off. But suddenlyyyy, they agreed to pay me a few hundred extra bucks on my last paycheck. I’m still convinced my payout was less than what my vacation days amounted to and I should have done the math to hold them to it. But my vacation days didn’t disappear into thin air which I honestly think they just expected.”
7. Refuse To Let Me Use My Old School Calculator During The Exam? Don't Worry, I Have Another
“This happened more than 10 years ago. I was still in what equates to a high school in the US. I was about to have a mid-semester math exam. The math teacher, one of the worst math teachers I’ve ever had, says that since the exam is about solving inequations and 2nd-degree polynomial equations, she didn’t care if we can do simple math or not since we’ve been doing that for years already, we can bring our calculator into the exam room.
We can’t use a calculator on a phone, for obvious reasons, but otherwise, there’s no restriction. It does sound too good to be true, especially from this particular teacher, so everyone asks the higher-grade student who took her test last year if she’s been doing this to previous year’s students as well or not.
We found out that she always let her students use a calculator, but because she loves making the questions stupidly complex for no reason, a lot of people get terrible scores anyway despite the calculator.
Now, a little about myself – I’ve had a special interest in science since I was a kid.
About a year earlier, I joined an astronomy summer camp program. As part of that, I got myself a scientific calculator. It’s way overkill for the average high school student, and I wouldn’t really use it to full capacity again until university, but it made my life in the program a lot easier.
It’s also shaped perfectly to fit in my pocket, so I’ve been using it as an everyday calculator to this day.
However, the calculator has a built-in equation solver, and since the exam is mostly multiple-choice questions, this means I could finish the exam by just entering the equation into the calculator and letting it do the job for me.
I felt a bit disgusted to bring it into the exam room as a result, so, out of respect for the exam, I decided to get myself a cheap, conventional calculator from a convenience store across the school the day before the test.
As per regulation, when students enter the exam room, we have to show our student ID and all of the exam tools to the overseeing teacher prior to entering the room. As luck would have it, my overseeing teacher was that darn math teacher.
I showed my student ID, my exam tools, and my conventional calculator, as per the regulations demanded. The calculator was a cheap model, shaped like an ancient cell phone for an aesthetic reason (even has a fake antenna on it that does nothing).
I didn’t think much of it, but apparently, the math teacher took offense to that, believing I’m challenging the “no phone” rule. I tried to argue that it was just a stupid calculator that’s just shaped like a phone, to no avail.
She ended the argument by telling me that I could either enter the exam room right then or go back outside to grab a real calculator, but I won’t get in with that “phone.”
So I, a bit mad at this point, decided to comply.
I went back outside, opened my bag, put my calculator-pretending-to-be-a-phone inside, and brought out my beloved scientific calculator, then walked back in line to prepare to enter the exam room again.
Surprisingly, she didn’t complain about it…at all. She made a snide remark about why I didn’t bring this in the first place, then let me enter the exam room. I didn’t know what was on her mind at that moment, and frankly, I didn’t care.
Unsurprisingly, I aced that test as a result. Not proud of it, but she asked for it.”
6. You're Only Accepting Mobile Orders? Then He'll Make A Mobile Order
“I have taken on many assignments recently, let’s call the most recent a driver for “Food Dood”, where I deliver food to people who order.
I picked up three orders, and toward the end of picking up the third order in a short time period, late at night, I had decided that smelling all of the fast food got me hungry for a bite.
I decided that, upon picking up the last one over an hour before closing, I wouldn’t waste time ordering my food while picking up my last mobile (hot food matters, plus I know how annoying this is to the drive-thru from experience), and decided I’d come back and order my own after I deliver.
So I drive back to the Fast Food Empire, and the drive-thru pipes in after a minute, and I say, “Yes I’d like to order a—”
A rudely interrupting person says, “We’re only taking mobile orders right now!”
I explain to them that I was just here ten minutes ago and would have ordered then if I had known, I drive for “Food Dood” (as if this would somehow change their mind because it’s mobile order-adjacent or something).
Then I hear a bevy of people laughing and making random comments, while the main person talking repeated even more rudely, “We’re ONLY taking MOBILE orders right now” with the background person saying, “Oh screw him, that’s that guy who–” before they disconnected the line.
Enter malicious compliance.
Well, luckily I have a hot spot (thank you, first job), so I simply used my iPad to make an “other Food Dood” order through their location, for quite the feast. I was only planning on getting a Big Nasty and some fries, but my order now consisted of coffee, a shakey shake, and fries with no salt, you know, some of the most annoying things to put together for an order.
I also, while waiting in the drive-thru behind another bevy of cars, managed to change my name on the “Other Food Dude” app as Jokeson Ulysses, which I know would (if it works like the Aloha system at my company) show up in their system as Jokeson U.
I also managed to pick up my own order seeing where my address and where I was located was the closest one. I was very thankful for this because there had to be three other mobile order drivers in line, any of which could have been linked with the same Food Delivery Company.
So here I go, finally inching up to the drive-thru as one of the most annoying-looking people in the world (maybe I’m biased, but this dude’s trying to bring back the mushroom cut) leans out way more than needed just to happily remind me, “Dude we’re not making anything for you, it’s mo–”
My turn to interrupt…
“Oh, it’s under Jokeson” which I pronounced Jokusson, like it was an actual name. “I just picked up the order in line like right now.”
So he huffs away and they take an insanely long time making it, to the point I feel bad because they didn’t have me pull around while three other cars were behind me.
I even asked, “Hey, do you want me to pull around? I’m happy to wait.” They just scowled and went back to making the order.
They finally hand out all of the things, drinks first, and I start ripping into the items in front of them as I shift into gear. The slow realization of what just happened appeared on their faces, and I regret that I only got to see it out of the corner of my eye.”
5. Take Away My Company Vehicle? Guess I'll Have To Take Flights Now
“First, this isn’t the company I work for but a company that services the same customers and I interact quite often with their sales team.
For a little back story, this job is a sales job, where you represent a manufacturer and travel around a territory calling on customers that sell your products.
The territory is generally at least two states and averages 30,000 miles on the road per year, if not more.
The company in question was recently acquired by a new ownership group that has a reputation for buying stagnant businesses, trimming down every possible expense they think is excessive, and selling it once it looks profitable, even though the company is barely functioning because of all the cuts.
After the acquisition, the new ownership group decided that the sales rep’s company cars were one of those excessive expenses. They were told to buy their own cars and they’d be given a monthly allowance to pay for the vehicle.
There are several problems, they drove at least 30,000 miles a year, so no matter what kind of car they bought, the car would depreciate in value very quickly and they would likely need to trade it in a few years before it was paid off.
Also, if they wanted to use exactly what their allowance would allow for a car, they’d likely be buying a 10-15-year-old beater and it still wouldn’t cover fuel and insurance.
The sales reps were used to getting a new car every 2-3 years.
It’s important in this line of work to have a presentable car because it’s often used to take our customers around the market. For example, my company has a very strict policy about keeping the vehicles clean and will pay to repair any cracks in the windshield or dents in the car immediately, because we’re a reflection of the company when meeting with our customers.
It’s just all around a situation where they’re getting screwed over and would be spending their own money on something their old company used to cover and it’s essential to their job.
Here’s where the malicious compliance comes in, this new company didn’t have a policy on flights, and there was no rule on how far the destination needed to be before they were allowed to book a flight.
Also, they were allowed to rent a car if they flew to a destination. Finally, their company card approval system didn’t have very good checks and balances, because of the acquisition. Basically, all expenses were sent to an understaffed department (some were laid off during the acquisition), so they’d approve all expenses, as long as a receipt was provided.
So now the sales reps are buying ridiculously expensive, super-regional flights and just renting a car at the airport.
One of the reps I sometimes bump into had just flown from Kansas City, MO to Wichita, KS, which is 2.5-3 hours away on the interstate.
He then rented a car and drove BACK to KC to make sales calls for two weeks. He ended up back in Wichita, making sales calls the whole way, and flew back to Kansas City to start the weekend. He’d been doing this every week for months.
So was the rest of their sales force.
He told me that his average DAILY travel expense was $50 more than the MONTHLY allowance they gave them to buy a car.
Apparently, the new company just caught on towards the end of the year and their year-end travel expenses for them are massive.
Since the discovery, there’s been multiple meetings, digital town halls, and a ton of emails with new policies and procedures for taking flights and submitting expenses.
The biggest win for them, though, is that at the beginning of this year, they all got company cars again.”
Another User Comments:
“That’s bonkers from a tax perspective and did/would not set them up for profitability. If these were experienced M&A people, they are as terrible at this as they appear.” moonrzn
4. Won't Let Me In Class Unless I'm Clean Shaven? I'll Shave Right Away, But The Results Won't Be Pretty
All I can say is… ouch!
“Many years ago, I attended and graduated from a culinary institute.
The program was for professional cooking. It was a lot more than just learning to cook though.
It also had classes about menu planning and creation, restaurant management, finance and cost analysis, etc… It was more of a program to teach you how to be a chef and run a restaurant.
Being that it was a professional program there were some very strict policies:
- When attending classes outside of the kitchen there was a uniform to wear.
- When classes were in the kitchen there was another (hat, jacket, neckerchief, apron, pants, nonslip shoes).
- While in the kitchen no jewelry or piercings could be worn, no nail polish either.
- Men had to be clean shaven, no beards or mustaches, even stubble was not allowed and hair kept tidy.
I saw a guy use a kitchen knife to cut off his dreads when they stuck out of his chef’s hat.
One policy was time and attendance. Classes started at a specific time. Not a minute later. When the start time came the chef would close and lock the door.
There was no leniency. There was also no valid reason to be late. Public transit late due to a snowstorm? Not valid.
What really made this worse was that to graduate you needed to have a certain number of hours in the kitchen.
If you were a minute late and were not allowed into class that day, you would then be missing those 5 hours and would have no way to make them up.
The only reason that was accepted to miss a class was with a doctor’s note.
With a doctor’s note, you then had to show up an hour early each day for 5 days to prep the kitchen to make up the missing hours.
I lived a bit more than an hour away from the school by public transit.
Some classes started at 6 am, others at 9 am, and others at 1 pm. Getting to the early classes on time was always a pain. Especially making sure I was early in case of any delays.
For the 6 am and 9 am classes, I would usually shave the evening before.
No big deal. I had no issues doing this for at least a year.
One day partway through a class that had started at 6 am the chef stopped me and asked if I had shaved that morning.
I told him honestly that since I had to be up at 4 am to make it on time I shaved the night before.
This was unacceptable to him and I was sent out of class. He did tell me I could return once I had shaved.
He probably expected me to go home and not return for the day. There was no way I was going to have to fight to make up hours over something so trivial.
I left class and found the closest convenience store. I purchased the cheapest plastic disposable razor I could find and a travel-sized shaving cream.
I went back to school and proceeded to shave my face in the men’s bathroom. By the time I was done, my face was bleeding all over.
My skin was irritated so badly. I stuck little pieces of toilet paper on all the spots I was bleeding.
I put my uniform on, walked through the school, right back to the kitchen, and continued what I was doing.
The look on the chef’s face was great. How professional do I look now?
I would love to say that the policy was changed or that he let up a bit but no. He simply told me I looked ridiculous and to get back to the assignment.”
3. Think I'd Be Better Off Quitting? I Think You're Right
“I was working for a startup engineering firm working as a Piping Design engineer. But since it was a start-up firm, we didn’t have a lot of manpower and the ones we had weren’t as qualified either. I was one of the very few qualified enough to handle a team of my own.
The boss trusted me with almost everything. I was like the second in command after the boss only because I was managing a lot of things on the side on a voluntary basis. Things like paycheck balancing, client meetings, quality assurance, documentation, and other stuff which he should have hired someone else to do.
I was good at it and he took full advantage of it by giving me things to do that never were under my job description.
One day he had this bright idea that we should revamp our website to attract more clients.
And he gave this project to his nephew who just graduated from college as a developer of sorts. After a week or so the nephew came up with the first draft of the website and the boss was fairly disappointed as it didn’t look anywhere near what he expected.
He then called me in and asked me if I knew anything about website design.
At that time I was very much interested in UI/UX and was doing an online course to learn about it. So I told him that I’ll see what I can do.
I spent the next week fully making proper information architecture, wireframes, and color guidelines that the nephew could pick up and build the website from scratch. In the end, the website looked futuristic and the boss was pretty happy.
But during the week my other ‘responsibilities’ were put in a backlog and it just kept piling on.
I knew I would be able to cover it once I was done with the website and didn’t pay too much attention to it.
The next week, my boss caught up with the backlog and called me into his cabin. He started yelling at me for all the ‘responsibilities’ that I didn’t attend to.
I calmly told him that I was working on the website and it’s not a big deal. Told him that I would clear it out as soon as possible. But he wasn’t happy. He asked me why I spent so much time doing something that isn’t even my responsibility.
I told him that I was learning about UI/UX and was pretty much interested to learn more. (I obviously never thought about pursuing it as a career because frankly I was a mechanical engineer by qualification and didn’t think jumping to IT would be easy.)
The boss snapped and told me that I should quit and pursue my ‘hobby’ as a living.
He said that only then I will understand how lucky I am to have a job that pays.
I kind of got offended because 1. He doesn’t even pay me the worth of things I do for the company and 2. He knew I could cover and yet took this as an opportunity to ‘discipline’ me.
I stepped out of this cabin, went to my desk and put in my resignation, and went home. He called me a couple of times and asked me to revoke my resignation and then made other people from the organization call me to convince me to come back.
I wasn’t having it at all.
It’s been 2 years now, and I decided to pursue UI/UX as a career now and am working as a product designer in one of the biggest organizations in the country with a pay that’s almost 300% more than what I was getting as a mechanical engineer.”
2. Won't Let Her Wear Shorts? She'll Wear Spandex Shorts Over Leggings
“I take my younger sister to softball practice because my parents get off work later in the evening, and I am fine with this because I love watching her play. We arrive a few minutes early so Charlotte can warm up.
Her class is an hour long so they warm up before it starts so they can utilize the short amount of time they have. Around ten minutes into the class, this woman, (we’ll call her Karen), called over Charlotte and one other girl named Kayla, who she was practicing with.
Charlotte and Kayla walked over confused, and I was a little mad as this was wasting their and my time. I follow them over because I am curious.
Karen says she needs to talk to the girls about something important, but she says she needs a witness.
She calls for the owner of the facility’s wife, and it takes about five minutes for her to come talk to us. I ask what is going on, and Karen says she needs to talk about the dress code. I was a little bit confused, as there was never a dress code on the facility’s website, nor was it in any emails.
I asked Karen if she was an employee, and she said she was. We listened to what she had to say, which was no shorts without leggings under them, no showing shoulders, etc. I was even more confused at this point, because my sister never wore anything provoking, and on this day she was wearing a short-sleeved softball jersey and lululemon leggings.
Karen also stated that the shorts Charlotte wore in a previous practice were too short. They were mid-thigh loose shorts. At this point, I was trying to hold myself together, but the last thing she said pushed me over the edge.
Karen said this was all because there were high school boys at the facility. Charlotte gave me a nervous look that basically said “I need to worry about that?” Charlotte is 12. Karen just so happens to have 3 high school boys that practice at said facility.
I asked Karen to talk to me outside. I was furious and I went off on her. I asked if there was a boy’s dress code, and she said there was. I asked to speak to the manager or a coach.
She was hesitant at first but I finally got to speak to the owner, whose wife was the “witness” earlier.
The manager was a kind man named Jonathan. My talk with Jonathan explained a few things. A: There is no dress code, athletes can wear what they want to work out.
B: Karen was not indeed an employee. Jonathan was very helpful and apologetic. At this point, Charlotte’s practice had ended.
As soon as we got in the car to go home, she started bawling. She asked basically what I asked Karen; does she have to worry about being looked at by upper-class high schoolers? She also told me her coach thought the dress code was nonsense.
We got milkshakes on the way home and talked about what to do next. I said we should take the high road and ignore Karen, but she had a better plan, cue malicious compliance.
She said that she wanted to follow the no shorts without leggings under them rule, and she did just that.
The next day, when we went back for her next practice, she wore leggings with spandex shorts over them. If you don’t know what those are, look them up. It looked a little funny, but her coach got a kick out of it.
Karen was FUMING. She angrily confronted me, asking if I told Charlotte to do this just to make her mad. I told her Charlotte just really took what she said to heart and decided to follow her rules. Of course, Karen couldn’t do anything but complain to her group of friends that also brought their kids to work out. A few of them chuckled and Karen just got angrier. Every day we have gone back, we haven’t seen Karen or her kids there, so it’s a win in my book.”
1. Try To Micromanage Me? I'll Be Following The Company Rules To The T
“So, this happened about 8 years ago. I’m a CDL truck driver. That being said. We have certain fmcsa rules we have to follow such as 11 hours max drive time a day, 14-hour max of on duty a day, then a 14-hour clock that ticks down from the second you leave off duty or sleeper berth status, then there’s also company policies such as we are supposed to start driving once our 10-hour break is up (this will become very relevant later on).
Now, I was always on time with my deliveries and never had any issues when it came to that.
There was one trip I was on, I went from somewhere in California, to some construction site in Indiana. I had plenty of time to do the trip and be early as I usually was.
So the night before my delivery appointment, I parked at a truck stop roughly 30 miles away. I gave myself 2 hours in the morning to get there and still be an hour early. I anticipated traffic, but what I didn’t anticipate was nature’s urgent calling.
I ended up being 30 minutes late due to the combination of those 2 things. My dispatcher messaged me, upset that I was late. I explained what happened, then she gave me grief because I was late and had been off duty for 14 hours total, and company policy says I’m required to start driving after my 10-hour break.
I asked her not to micro-manage me, and she responded that she was going to put a service violation on my report. I told her go ahead, and I’ll be following dot and company rules TO THE T to avoid any future issues.
Now, when cdl driving, anything you do in the truck is supposed to be logged as on duty, or driving. I hauled flatbeds. I was responsible for securing my loads and tarping them. That can take on average anywhere from 45 minutes, to sometimes 2 hours.
Almost all drivers only log about 30 minutes though (saves time on our 70-hour clock), myself included. We also only log about 30 minutes on duty for loading and unloading, then go into off-duty status (always takes over an hour minimum to get loaded or unloaded).
The 10-hour breaks are required to reset your 11-hour drive time and 14-hour daily clock. If you’re off duty for 9.5 hours and go on duty again, you have to restart your 10-hour break. I was in the habit of always parking as close to my delivery as possible, and I ran my truck so I was parked by 5 or 6 in the afternoon.
That week, if I parked 10 miles from the customer, and I had a 9 am unload time, I’d drive to the customer as soon as my 10-hour break was up. About 4 am, I’d head 10 miles down the road for a 9 am unload.
I go off duty, at 9. I go back on duty to log the entire unload time. My dispatcher messaged me asking why I went so early to the customer, and I responded back with the company policy. She wasn’t happy because that severely limited how many miles I could go for that day.
I continued this process of maliciously going on duty for the most mundane things, being extremely early, and in general, destroying my 70-hour work clock with a bunch of senseless on-duty time that (per company policy) was required to be logged even though it’s like an unwritten rule to just log 30 minutes and go off duty to preserve your clock.
I usually averaged 2,500 miles a week. That week, I barely got 1,100 miles because I was consistently running out of time on my 14-hour clock. Every time my dispatcher fussed at me, I cited the company policy or fmcsa rule relevant to why I had gone on duty at whatever time. She never said a word to me again about how I run the truck.”