I had a contracting gig with a large financial services company. My little group was part of a much bigger department that generated the annual tax forms. They were incredibly busy from January 2 through April. The guy who ran the department issued an edict that everyone had to put in ten hours each day and work Saturdays if necessary.

Office Manager: “Why do you and your team leave every day at 5:00 pm?”

Me: “Our group has nothing to do with the tax statements. We’re all done by 5:00.”

Office Manager: “The rest of the office is complaining when you’re all seen leaving at 5:00 pm. It would be better if you stayed late, as well.”

Me: “Are you asking or telling?”

Office Manager: “Telling.”

Me: “Does that apply to me and the other contractors?”

Office Manager: “Everyone. No exceptions.”

We were happy to do so since we were being paid by the hour. When we submitted our invoice for January, [Officer Manager] almost wet his pants and decided that the overtime rule didn’t apply to us.

Our town has a cat man. He lives in a trailer and smokes a lot of weed. The cats who can’t take care of their kittens or want some help bring them to him. He feeds them, cares for them, socializes them, and then adopts them out. He is always surrounded by cats and kittens. If you want a kitten, you go to his trailer and ask to adopt one. He doesn’t charge anything; he just talks to you for a bit to make sure you’ll love the animal and take care of it.

He’s surrounded by books and video cassettes and always wears a big housecoat. He’s full of stories and will talk to you about cats, politics, music, movies, games, weed, or whatever it is. The trailer is cold and unlocked with a hole in the front door for the cats to come in and out. He always has them, though. They know to go to him.

I came to him today for a kitten because my foster kid is having a rough time. We are “borrowing” a kitten until he feels better, but I suspect the kitten will stay. We’ve named them Pizza Crust. Gender is unknown. Knowing the gender isn’t the cat man’s job. He is happy to “lend” Pizza Crust to us for as long as we need them. I mean, of course, he was happy to lend a kitten to help a child.

So, yeah, that’s our cat man. He’s the goat.

I’m working as a controller for a taxi company but am remote working from home.

Me: “Good morning! [Taxi Firm], how may I help?”

Customer: “I need a taxi; I am a regular.”

Me: “Sorry, we’re fully booked at the moment, but I can provide you one in the next forty minutes.”

Customer: “No, I need it in five minutes.”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any cabs available. I can’t send you one.”

Customer: “You’re lying! You have cabs available! You’re just being very unprofessional, and I will complain to the office about you not knowing how to do the work!”

They start shouting, and I continue being apologetic until my coworker takes the phone from me.

Coworker: “Nothing available! What do you want, a screenshot of our screen saying that we have nothing available?!”

Customer: *Continues shouting*

Coworker: “From now on, we won’t provide you with our services. Thank you for calling. Bye!” *Click*

I used to work at a gas station. One day, our sign malfunctioned and displayed a lower price than was actually charged by the pumps. It was something like four cents a gallon difference. We couldn’t fix it, and we couldn’t make the pumps charge a different price, so we were just giving anyone who complained a refund in cash. (My manager said he’d sort the shortage with corporate later.)

I had some version of this conversation about a dozen times that night.

Customer: *Raging* “YOUR PUMP OVERCHARGED ME!”

Me: “Yes, they’re malfunctioning, but I’d be happy to refund the difference to you. Which pump are you on?”

Customer: *Raging more* “THIS IS FALSE ADVERTISING! BAIT AND SWITCH! I ONLY STOPPED HERE BECAUSE THE GAS WAS CHEAPER!”

Me: “Uh-huh. Which pump was that? Give me a second to figure out your refund…”

And then I’d give them their refund, which was inevitably an amount less than $2, and loudly count it out for them.

They’d slink off, and as a bonus win, everyone else in line who had the same complaint would be chill.

Our house backs up onto this tiny wooded area right next to the river. All manner of beasts love the river, even though it’s gross and barely even a creek where we are, so we get lots of critters around our backyard.

One day, my dad tells me he wants the lawn watered and to get the hose from the back. The hose is attached to this wall that is absolutely covered in greenery, and if it weren’t on the wrong side of the house, it would camouflage the entire wall.

Just as I’m reaching for the hose, I’m attacked! A bird has nested in the bush, and it’s decided I’m bothersome. Worse: it’s a blue jay. Those guys are vicious.

Figuring it would be better to be yelled at than get pecked to death, I go back inside to tell my dad I can’t get the hose as there’s a bird protecting its nest.

He stares at me, scoffs, and goes outside himself.

Just as he’s pulling the hose from the wall and wrapping it around his arm, another attack! And this time, it’s both birds! Maybe because I’m a tiny twelve-year-old and he’s much bigger than me, they thought he was a bigger threat? Who knows!

Because his arm is wrapped up in the hose, it takes him a minute to untangle himself with that arm, while the other arm is trying to protect his head and waving the birds off at the same time. It’s almost comical: a grown man who didn’t believe his child and is now paying the penalty, dancing around a three-foot square patch of semi-parched grass, while two small blue and gray missiles defend their young and themselves against this evil invader.

He finally gets himself out of the hose and rushes back into the house after being pecked several times.

The lawn does not get watered, and he avoids me for the rest of the day.