"I used to work at the Jaws ride at Universal Studios Florida. Our uniform consisted of a blue t-shirt, jeans or jean shorts, white socks, and white shoes. The 'unofficial' dress code had all of us girls wearing jean shorts and white knee socks.
One summer, I ended up working the Jaws ride and The Jungle Cruise at Walt Disney World simultaneously. I love Disney and had always wanted to work there, but I ended up finding it stifling, with all sorts of silly and over the top rules.
At the Jungle Cruise, you wear a khaki shirt, khaki shorts or pants, white socks, and brown shoes. One day, I didn't have any normal sized socks to wear to the Jungle Cruise, so I ended up wearing my white knee-highs, which looked RIDICULOUS with the Jungle costume. When I got to work, one of my managers flipped out, told me my socks weren't in compliance with 'The Disney Look' (the official policies on how to dress at Disney) and made me roll my socks down. It looked like I was wearing little white life preservers around my ankles, and looked more out of place than they looked originally.
I was annoyed, so when I went home, I scoured my Disney Look booklet for the policies pertaining to socks. All I could find was that socks had to be long enough to cover the ankle bone. There was no maximum height. I could have worn white tights under my khaki shorts if I really wanted to.
The next day, I wore my knee-highs again, as a small act of rebellion. The same manager was there, and he flipped out. He actually pulled me into the office to write me up, but before he could get me to sign the paperwork, I pulled out my copy of The Disney Look and showed him that, while incredibly silly looking, my socks were perfectly acceptable, and that I would continue wearing them like that.
And so I did. I looked stupid, but I didn't care. Working for Disney wasn't a pleasant experience in my opinion, and it was very liberating to know that I could at least wear my socks however I wanted."
"Back in high school a small group of students (including myself) and a few teachers were going on a rare trip out-of-state. I was one of those punk kids with big pants, dark blue hair, and white-out contact. But I was also at/near the top of the class.
We arrived at the airport shortly before the flight (this was a few years before 9/11). I pretty much dressed like a Mormon with clear contacts and my dark blue hair because we were going someplace directly after our short flight, so we were supposed to be 'presentable'.
One of the chaperones, a school counselor who was quite familiar with me, asked, 'Are you serious?'
'Not usually, but what are you talking about?' I asked. She goes on about my 'unnatural' hair color being a distraction and that it reflects poorly on the school and our presence at this conference.
As a side note, for several months leading up to this point, my hair had been a variety of colors, including some bright, annoying concoctions, like magenta and turquoise. She then calls the principal over and asks her to send me home to make my hair look 'natural'. I used the good stuff semi-permanent hair dye, professionally done by a friend who was a hairdresser, so it wasn't changing anytime soon.
The principal, who I considered a friend, looks at me and asks me what I thought. I respond that the counselors choice in hair color (orange blonde) was not natural either. I went on that trip and the country folk loved this city boy's funny hair."
"I used to work at a McKesson warehouse on the order picking line. The line is divided into sections for efficiency's sake, and the rules said you could have a radio in your section (no mention of volume control). This lead to radio wars. You have yours turned up, so I have to turn mine up louder to hear my music, and it escalates from there.
I don't particularly care for pop/metal/hip-hop/top 40/classic rock, but I suffered it until the volume wars started. I tried to talk to the radio owners, no luck. I tried the supervisors, no luck. I tried actual office dwellers, no luck. On my day off, I went to the pawn shop and bought the biggest, loudest, portable radio I could find. I went in to work a little early and got set up (unwritten rule was whoever got there first picked the music).
Work starts, and I turned on the public radio talk stuff. Not loud, just on. The section on either side of mine started turning their radios up a bit at a time until it got too loud. I went to my radio, turned it to AM, and found static. I then turned my radio up as loud as it would go, almost drowning out the other radios in my area. People started complaining. 'Hey, you like horrible death metal, I like white noise. It relaxes me.' About 15 minutes after I turned on my 'music', here comes the supervisor. I explained that what I was doing was no different than anything anyone else was doing, and within the 'rules'. The end result? No more radios in the warehouse."
"When I was in the Army, I pulled my car up to an ATM machine on base to get cash. Four guys piled out, leaving all doors open. While getting my cash, from somewhere behind me someone says, 'You actually drive that piece of garbage? I should call in for a tow truck.' Without bothering to turn around I yelled back, 'Screw you AND your tow truck.' I never did see who it was as he was gone by the time I had my money.
The next day my squad leader calls me aside and asks me if I told Staff Seargent 'P' to screw himself yesterday, and I had to admit that yes, I probably had. So I was in trouble. I had 3 other witnesses who were interviewed and signed sworn statements to the fact that I had told a staff sergeant to go screw himself and a tow truck.
I was given the opportunity to read the incriminating statements before I made my own, just to point out that there was no point in lying. That was when I found out that only one guy had even known who it was because he was in civilian clothes - not on duty.
So my statement detailed an 'aggressively profane and hostile person in civilian attire, identity unknown to me,' whom I found to be acting irrationally, and attempted to diffuse further confrontation by 'responding jovially in kind fashion'. The beauty was without reading the other statements, I'd have been unable to mesh my version of events so perfectly with the bland facts the others reported.
The key point is, under the Uniform Code Of Military Justice, there is no such thing as 'disrespecting a non commissioned officer', only 'insubordination' which is very clear about being in uniform.
At this point, everyone decided the best thing to do was to sweep it under the rug as Staff Seargent 'P' had far more to lose than I did, and magically everything went away.
'P' continued to be a jerk to me at every opportunity, so I made it a point of yelling, 'Hey 'P'! Screw you!' whenever I saw him out of uniform. Eventually, my squad leader asked me to stop as a personal favor to him, so I did, but it was fun for a while."
"I used to work for this small town, twice-weekly newspaper. The editor/publisher, mayor, county commissioner and a few other people were skimming tax dollars. When I confronted my boss about it, he told me he'd blackball me if I said anything. So I went to the local television station, tipped them off and they uncovered the story. When they won their awards, my name was added to the list of reporters.
I still can't get a job as a journalist, but man, if it didn't feel good."
"Well, I like to make memes illustrating my frustration with certain customers and then share them with my co-workers (hanging them up on our bulletin board, or on people's mailboxes) just to vent and have a little fun.
Our boss decided this was inappropriate and could somehow affect our customer service scores (still trying to figure out his logic on that one), but told us 'work appropriate' memes are fine. So, we did the only rational thing and made a metric ton of overly positive memes and plastered them everywhere around the back office. I work at a hotel. My personal favorite is the 'all the things' meme saying, 'Love all the guests!'"
"When I was in fourth grade, pizza was sold at lunch for $1.50 a slice. I saw a business opportunity and went to the Little Caesars, a stone's throw away from the school, and bought 10 Hot'N'Ready pizzas for $5 each, and sold the slices for $1.00 ($1.25 on Friday).
When the school told me I couldn't sell pizza on school property, I moved my office to my aunt's house which was next door, so every day at lunch the kids would walk to the neighbor's front yard, buy pizza and come back to school. I was making a tidy sum every day."
"So I come into work on my birthday and my friend runs up to me and yells, '(My name)!!! Happy birthday!'right in front of my boss' office.
He looks up and says, '(My name)!' I'm thinking he's going to say happy birthday since he, no doubt, heard my friend. Instead, he said, 'Yeah go ahead and tuck your shirt in, K?' He does the hand signal like he's tucking in an imaginary shirt.
So I say, 'Okay, no problem, I just have to put my stuff down real quick and I'll take care of it.' So I walk over to my desk, which takes approximately 7 seconds to get to. I go to put my stuff down, and as I am doing so, he comes up behind me again and says, '(My name) I said to tuck in your shirt!' So I quickly tuck it in, and as he's walking literally right by me I say, 'Sorry, I just had to put my stuff down first.' He walks by like I never said a word.
Immediately, I bust out my Human Resource manual and check out the rule on tucked in shirts. Turns out you must tuck in all shirts EXCEPT a Hawaiian shirt or a 'Guayabera' shirt. So I take my butt to Walmart, and buy 10 of those suckers, and wear the most obnoxious Hawaiian looking shirt the next day. The second I walked in, he looked me up and down, glared, turned around and walked away. When everyone asked why I was wearing such a ridiculous shirt, I told them about the loophole, and now half my office is wearing Hawaiian shirts, and it's driving my boss crazy. All within the guidelines outlined in company policy."
"My brother-in-law worked for UPS for 17 years. He was a bit of a joker and was constantly getting in trouble for coming to work with crazy hair colors or cornrows (he was a big Italian guy and was told it wasn't appropriate). It was always something. But they couldn't say anything about him wearing sunglasses.
So his little rebellion was he would wear the most outrageous sunglasses he could think of. Ones shaped like giant red lips, guitars with the stems sticking up, purple ones with rhinestone hearts on them. Anything for a laugh. After a while, people knew him by his glasses. If someone said they lived in a certain area I would say, 'Oh my brother-in-law is your UPS man, the guy with the crazy glasses.'
Their reply would almost always be something like, 'Oooooh John. Yeah, I love that guy, he's hilarious.' He passed away 4 years ago. He was hit by an inebriated driver while he was out walking one night. When we attended his funeral, all of the guys from work came dress in their browns with crazy sunglasses on. His best friend gave his eulogy wearing a pair of neon green glasses three times the size of his face and the pastor even borrowed John's guitar glasses when he went up to speak. After his funeral, we counted and figured out he had over 200 different pairs. What started as him being a pain in the butt to his boss ended as a tribute to his character in life of always wanting to make someone else smile."
"My boss went away for about 3-4 weeks for a conference, and while he was away, a workmate and I had an idea. We got a George Foreman grill and then we'd go to the deli and grab stuff for lunch: hamburgers, lamb chops, pork, steaks etc.
We did this every day for over a month, and when the boss got back he put a stop to it, with the exact words, 'I don't want that thing inside the office.'
So we took it to the shared kitchen area on our floor (we rented a suite).
When he got angry at that and said, 'I DONT WANT IT ON THIS FLOOR!' We took it down to the underground parking area and used the power outlet at his parking space while he was out at lunch. He caught us because he was coming back from lunch with a business partner (in the car with him) and we were hunched over a tiny George Foreman grill making hamburger patties. Imagine 3 IT guys, crouching on the ground like cavemen, in a poorly lit underground parking lot, cooking hamburgers on the concrete floor. Yeah, it went over about as well as you would think.
If he hadn't specifically used the words, 'Take that home or I will break it and throw it in the trash,' our next step was to use the power point in the parking lot of the church directly opposite the building (and facing his office)."
"Back when I was working and attending classes I would go straight from campus to work, getting there anywhere from 10-20 minutes early before my shift. On occasion my boss would ask me to help him out with something before I clock in, putting something away or answering the phone. Over the span of a couple months, this evolved from 'occasionally' to 'every day your shift starts when you get here.'
After doing this for a couple weeks (still clocking in at my usual 3 PM) I decide that if I'm working for a few extra minutes each day, I'm gonna get paid for it. I did this ONCE, and I didn't make it an hour into my shift before my boss is screaming at me and throwing down the employee handbook saying that I'm only allowed to clock in 5 minutes before and after my scheduled shift.
Needless to say, I made it a point to not check in until 5 minutes after my scheduled shift every day, no matter how early I was. Fast forward 3 months and my boss gets fired. He got what was coming to him."
"At our store they wanted a minimum of 70% of our transactions to be a membership transaction. So either someone with a membership, or we sign someone up for a membership. I would for a few days in a row get 100% (by only ringing one person through on my whole shift and making them use or sign up for a membership) and then randomly I'd ring someone through and make sure I don't use their membership card, so that day I would be at 0%. When they'd come to me and complain that my percentage was 0 I'd tell them that I've been 100% all week and that it was only one transaction that I did that day and the person didn't want to sign up.
They couldn't get mad at me for 0% on 1 person (you can't win 'em all) and they couldn't get mad at me for only ringing in one person every other day because my numbers were 100%. It annoyed them so much, but on paper, it looked great.
Also, when I quit, I hid 105 pictures of myself all over the store. They still haven't found them all."
"While I was in the Navy it was recommended that I get extensive surgery on my ankle. My command felt that I 'didn't deserve a bunch of time off for a surgery.' So they said they would approve it but none of the convalescent leave. They refused to sign ANY paperwork.
First thing I did was hit them with the regulation stating that they were required to respond to all requests within a certain amount of time (3 days I think). They responded with a 'no'. So then I had Navy legal draw up paperwork (in accordance with regulations) that my command would be responsible for 100% of my medical care if they did not abide by doctors orders. I then let them know that would mean that ALL of my medical care would then be handled by civilians and the command would be responsible for paying the bill out of their budget. They approved my surgery, convalescent leave, and convalescent leave extension."
"I worked at the front desk of a gym scanning key cards. You know, being a watchdog as my boss liked to say. The only problem is when a dog gets hungry he doesn't feel like doing much. It didn't matter if it was a 12-hour shift or an 8-hour shift, no lunch break for the front desk, and of course no eating at the front.
Well, this dog happens to love sandwiches, so I would tell all the people who asked me how I was doing that I was great, minus the fact that I haven't eaten in 8 hours. I would proceed to tell them about the policy and encourage them to tell my boss to let me eat. Well after I had told enough people, I began eating my sandwich at the front. The first time the boss caught me mid-bite and asked what I was doing, I said, 'Eating my sandwich.' As luck would have it, a daily member walks up and says, 'You know boss, you should let him eat up here, it's not hurting anyone.'
"I used to work at a TV station that had absolutely awful management and horrible bosses. I complained about it to friends all the time. Some would even ask me on Facebook about my job and I would reply- but I knew I could get fired for speaking ill of the company.
So I read the Human Resources handbook and found out as long as I don't specifically name the company, I can't be fired for it. So, about a month later, I realize I can't take it anymore and post on Facebook how terrible my job is, never mentioning the company by name. They fire me a day later. I gladly walk out of that building and into a lawyer's office. I got $17,800 which was my yearly salary."
"I was at an Opus Dei school so the nuns were pretty strict and I hated the salads they gave us. I found multiple ways to hide the food because 'You can't throw food when there are millions of people starving.' Until one day I just went with a tray half full to dump it all. The nun went ballistic and I just said, 'I'm full; gluttony is a sin.' Then threw it all. That got me in trouble. I was 9."
"The company I worked for was a large, nationally-known engineering, architectural, and surveying firm, and my position required me to work both in the office and on construction sites. Our office dress code required dress shoes, slacks, and a 'collared shirt' at all times.
On construction sites, we were required to wear steel-toed boots, jeans, and often long sleeve work shirts. Our former Vice President, a small man in his 50's with a temper and a thick North-Jersey accent, used to berate people for violating company dress codes whenever he visited offices. Well, one day I was required to visit a site to perform inspections, and when I returned around midday, he was there, standing by my desk. 'Where's your collared shirt?' he demanded.
'Excuse me?' I said, confused as I thought it was obvious to everyone that I had just come from a dirty, dusty construction site.
'Where's your collared shirt?' He repeated, louder than before, and coming closer to jab his finger right at my shirt.
At that point, I got angry and fired back with the first thing that came to mind, 'Blue is a 'collar', are you blind?' I snapped, pointing to my blue t-shirt. He stood, stunned, and for the first time, had no comeback. After a moment, he gave me the biggest stink eye I'd ever seen and stormed off to throw a temper tantrum at someone else. I was a legend for the longest time after that encounter, although to this day, I continue to wonder why I got passed over for every raise and promotion opportunity during my time there."