The following incidents are categorized as minor. While the petty behaviors were weapons-grade nasty, they burned themselves out and the affairs blew over quickly. The actions were vengefully malicious, but the effects were inconsequential.
Four-Quadrant Model of Pettiness:
Is the way to employees’ hearts through their stomachs? My company thought so, but a lot of people ended up with a bad taste in their mouths.
Is the way to employees’ hearts through their stomachs? My company thought so, but a lot of people ended up with a bad taste in their mouths.
It all started with a company-sponsored, fully-paid, half-day training event for all employees, complete with breakfast and lunch. After the event, several employees complained to the catering manager that the meals included too much bread, rice, pasta, and the like. They asked that the next time the company provided food for employees, there should be fewer carbohydrates.
The manager was surprised and incensed. The company had just paid for training plus a couple of free catered meals. He thought the employees were being incredibly ungrateful and entitled.
The next training event was a month later. This time, breakfast and lunch consisted of all carbs—bagels, pizza, noodles, and more—which made the employees even angrier. They rightly suspected that the catering manager did this on purpose, in direct response to their previous complaints. Of course, they complained again about the food.
That’s when management decided to no longer provide any food at employee events.
That’s when management decided to no longer provide any food at employee events. Needless to say, this did not go over well.
Needless to say, this did not go over well. While the no-carbs request might have been tactless and inappropriate, the catering manager’s reaction was spiteful, mean, and driven by emotion. The subsequent management decision to stop serving food entirely was a disproportionate response.
Everyone involved acted unprofessionally.
Over the next several months, morale and performance suffered. Tension and conflict increased. Working relationships became strained. Employees listened to management less and less, becoming insubordinate in some cases.
People now recognized that the company had a problem much bigger than breakfast and lunch. There was a clear divide between management and employees that could hurt the whole enterprise. Carbohydrates were just the catalyst.
HR decided to get involved to help improve the situation. They talked to the people involved in the catering incident to gain a better understanding of how employees perceived management, and vice versa. Some constructive steps came out of it:
HR’s efforts were generally successful. Over the course of year, there was a measurable decrease in disciplinary issues. People began to use the formal complaint procedure to resolve disputes. Communication seemed to improve, as did relationships between managers and employees. Fewer performance issues were reported. The company became more optimistic about morale, productivity, profitability, and long-term success.
Where’s the plant manager? He had recently placed cameras all over the facility and was constantly watching the monitors in his office, essentially managing the business that way. Everyone knew it, too. If anyone asked for him, the answer was, “In his office watching TV.”
All day long he stared at the screens. He never walked around the plant. Instead, he would page his supervisors, sometimes a dozen times an hour. When they’d answer his page, he’d tell them what he was seeing on his monitors, and then tell them how to deal with whatever the problem was.
The situation got so bad that his own boss told him to shut off the monitors, walk around to see firsthand what he was responsible for, and generally be more visible to the people he was supposed to be managing. For one week, he showed up on the floor all of three times. Then he went back to watching his monitors.
Something had to be done, but it wasn’t going to easy. This manager been with the company for 29 years. He liked the power that came with his title and enjoyed summoning his supervisors to do what he said. He was set in his ways and didn’t like to make changes (unless he thought them up, like the cameras and monitors). He resisted criticism and threatened to fire anyone who challenged him.
The supervisors who reported to him were frustrated, forced to keep answering his pages to the detriment of their own productivity. The relentless interruptions hindered them from doing their jobs. They didn’t respect him. The employees had no respect for him, either. They thought he was a joke. This manager’s “presence” was a waste of time and money, people said, and no one had much confidence in a company with a history of ignoring problems.
The company’s biggest concern with the plant manager was the lack of trust and respect from his direct reports and employees.
The company’s biggest concern with the plant manager was the lack of trust and respect from his direct reports and employees. Management felt it was important for a leader to set the right example for others to follow, and to show how to be a team player. Good behavior could change everyone’s perceptions—but would this manager be willing to change?
Due to his long tenure and high position with the company, the plant manager was given an opportunity to adjust his methods. His discussions with the head of HR, however, were not promising. He was reluctant to accept responsibility for what he was (not) doing. He didn’t see anything wrong with how he managed the plant or dealt with his direct reports.
Several levels of leadership and HR got involved. They put the manager on a performance improvement plan, outlining for him their goals, objectives, and expectations, and providing him with coaching and counseling.
But he never stopped watching those monitors or paging his supervisors. It didn’t take long for the plant manager to be fired.
Morale improved immediately. The supervisors were finally able to do their jobs without interruption, and productivity went way up. As for the employees, the lack of day-to-day involvement in the plant by the manager meant that his absence went virtually unnoticed. Work carried on as usual.
Over time, people did seem to develop better attitudes. Once they realized that the company was serious about correcting a problem (and that even being a long-term, high-level manager wouldn’t excuse poor behavior), they were more willing to be team players themselves.
One of the teachers in the grammar school I work in thought that her classroom floor was not being cleaned properly in the evenings. Instead of mentioning this to her supervisor or telling someone on the janitorial team, she threw rice around her floor at the end of the day in order to monitor how well it was being cleaned overnight. She did this for two weeks. She mentioned her “experiment” to several colleagues, who threw various things all over their floors. Until then, no one had expressed any concerns about the cleanliness of their classrooms. Now these teachers approached me with “evidence” of how bad a job the janitors were doing.
My biggest concern was to find out whether the floors in these classrooms were dirty to the point of causing unsanitary or unsafe conditions for the children. While it was a low-priority problem in comparison to most of the situations I deal with, grapevine conversations about janitors not doing their jobs meant that I couldn’t ignore this for long.
I walked through the classrooms in question to see what wasn’t getting picked up from the floors. Then I watched video footage from classroom cameras to check out the janitors’ cleaning process. I determined that the floors were being cleaned properly of dirt and debris. The stuff getting missed was sequins, sand, and other tiny things used in art projects (and rice).
The janitorial supervisor told me about how difficult it was to completely clean up such small items. Glitter and similar materials stayed on the floor the entire day and got tracked all over the room. It got stuck in the mops used to clean the tiled areas and wasn’t sucked up by the vacuums used to clean the carpets. Could anything be done to remedy this?
Our plan was to have teachers limit their use of certain art materials to one table in a tiled area, and to sweep up as soon as arts-and-crafts time ended. This would help prevent messy stuff from getting tracked everywhere. It would also be a great opportunity to teach children to pick up after themselves and for the teachers to show them how in a few simple sweeps.
Our school administrators spoke to the teachers individually to introduce the plan, which proved effective. The classrooms of those who embraced the plan had less of a problem with clean floors. They also understood that they should express any of their concerns to those who could best address them.
As for the teacher whose “experiment” was to throw around rice, disparage the janitors, and instigate others to do the same, she felt she was being punished by having to clean the floor, which was not her responsibility. The janitorial team should just do their jobs, she said.
We had discussed her unconventional approach to problem-solving; I had asked what she might have done differently instead of getting so many people upset. I already knew this teacher as someone who regularly engaged in petty behaviors and blamed others to deflect from her own wrongdoings. Her response was not unexpected. This was just another mean-spirited attempt to get someone else in trouble.
Small-minded people with a thirst for power can be very dangerous, especially when they lord it over everyone else above and below them.
Small-minded people with a thirst for power can be very dangerous, especially when they lord it over everyone else above and below them.
I worked in a white-collar firm occupying a whole floor of a high-rise building. The office manager controlled the office supplies, and she reveled in the power that gave her. Not even top executives could get anything she didn’t approve of, most of all the sticky notes.
Anyone who needed sticky notes had to walk all the way to the other side of the office to make their request of the office manager in person. She’d ask you why you needed them, then made you listen as she complained about everyone using too many. If you bowed down to her properly, she’d deem you worthy of one pad of sticky notes, and you’d better thank her sufficiently, too, because she made sure you knew she could cut you off at any time.
Meanwhile, the firm was very doing well. The more our revenue increased, however, the tighter her grip on sticky notes, and the greater her need to make people miserable.
Her bullying spread to more significant matters. She frequently told false or exaggerated stories about the failings of various executives and others not on her “good” list. She degraded people in front of everyone, making it clear that she had the ear of the CEO. People quickly learned that crossing the office manager was not in their best interest.
I was relatively new to the firm. Although not an abuser of sticky notes, I needed them to do my job. The first time I ran out, I thought I had no option but to crawl to the office manager to beg for my allotment. It could be frustrating if she was away from her desk. It was easier to just ask a neighbor to spare a few sticky notes. I learned to adapt and live without. My priority was to get my work done.
At a year-end meeting, the chief financial officer shared the news that the firm was more profitable than ever, so afterward I very nicely asked the office manager if she could just put the sticky notes in the supply closet with the other supplies. All this did was incur her wrath. No one dared question her control!
One day I was in the office of a division president and needed a sticky note. He opened his credenza and took out a pack from a stack of 20. “Wow! The mothership!” I said. “Where did you get those? I was told you had to go to the officer manager to get them one at a time.” He rolled his eyes. “I just got sick of her,” he said. “I bought a case and put it on my expense report.” It wasn’t just me; she was a bully to everyone. This was a division president! Years later, the CFO showed me his own stash. He just shrugged. It seemed everyone was also helpless against the office manager’s pettiness.
I could have gone to the CEO, but then he might have thought I was being petty. The irony!
I took the easy path and bought myself a case of sticky notes and never had to beg for them again. It was delightful! Life is too short to deal with such things. But what a ridiculous waste of time and emotional energy because of one petty person’s behavior.
Most of the salaried employees in our office have flexible hours. They can work from home, come in late or leave early, as long as they get their work done. It’s part of the company’s work/life balance.
The hourly employees who provide administrative support and report to me do not have flexible schedules. Most of them understand that it can be an advantage to work regular business hours, coming in and leaving every day at a consistent time.
The office receptionist, an hourly employee, was one of the few people at the company to have contact daily with every single person passing through. When she was hired, I stressed that her job was to greet everyone pleasantly to help put them in a good mood, and to get along with all employees regardless of department or job.
After about a year on the job, the receptionist apparently felt comfortable enough with her co-workers to make various offhand remarks about them. I instructed her to mind her own business and keep her opinions to herself. Some of her comments indicated that she was jealous of the flextime employees.
One morning I arrived at the office at the same time as the top salesperson, who rarely came in so early. In greeting him the receptionist said, “Good morning! Why, look at that, it isn’t even 11 a.m. yet!” He immediately tensed up when he heard her comment.
I quickly apologized to him. His schedule was none of her business, I said, and she wouldn’t make such remarks again. He replied sadly, “I’m used to those comments by now.”
I was astonished that the receptionist would say something like this to a co-worker, especially right in front of me, when she had already been warned about such behavior. Privately, I told her she was out of line to make a negative comment to senior staff. Her job was to greet everyone warmly. Instead, she started the day off badly for our top salesperson—he was obviously there early to meet with a potential customer, and ruining his mood might affect the sale and jeopardize company revenue.
Following this second verbal warning, the receptionist seemed to understand my disappointment in her behavior. She never made such comments again.
Perhaps a written warning would have done more to curb her petty behavior.
Unfortunately, she redirected her feelings of unfairness over the salesperson’s schedule to other aspects of her job. This was one of the many reasons she was fired a few months later. Perhaps a written warning would have done more to curb her petty behavior.
Who was sending bad reviews of the marketing director to the CEO? The threat was greater than a bad book review on Amazon or a bad restaurant review on Yelp. It was potential career sabotage. In the highly competitive software/tech industry, such unsubstantiated accusations could have a huge impact.
The director of marketing was fairly new to the company and still learning how people there interacted. She suspected the vice president of software development of authoring the anonymous texts. Her distrust of the VP stymied the progress of their working relationship. She felt cast out. Before long she went directly to the CEO with an accusation of sabotage against the VP.
HR was keen to resolve the matter quickly at the leadership level, before it escalated and caused a true uproar. The company’s current and future business needs were paramount. If the close-knit marketing team felt threatened, its cohesiveness and engagement, and interactions with other departments, could be harmed. The director and VP had to work in an environment of trust if they were to partner successfully.
The director deserved to be heard; the CEO really was receiving anonymous texts about her not doing a good job. The VP deserved to be cleared if he wasn’t the one sending them.
It was a difficult case to investigate. There were no witnesses, only the texts themselves. HR acknowledged the director’s concerns and questioned the VP about who else might have known the details of projects they were supposed to partner on. The chief financial officer (whom HR reported to) was asked to review the texts and give an honest opinion about the VP: they had worked together for eight years; was this something he would do?
In the end, the anonymous texts were untraceable. We never knew who actually sent them.
The claim of VP as saboteur could not be proved, but it could not be ignored. Had the director not made the complaint, their relationship would likely have deteriorated. The timeline of the whole incident was about 10 days. Addressing the conflict right away forced the two leaders to have a meaningful conversation about their differences, and, ultimately, move past them.
Addressing the conflict right away forced the two leaders to have a meaningful conversation about their differences, and, ultimately, move past them.
It happened cautiously at first, as the director and VP each strived for transparency. Eventually they were able to communicate, understand and appreciate one another. They discovered that their differences were not threatening. Today, they partner on many projects and have a strong relationship.
Finance manager here. I worked at a small law firm of seven people—partners, associates and staff—as an independent contractor, then as full-time employee. About a year later I had the opportunity to run my own finance business, so I decided to become an independent contractor again until I left for good. I expected to continue a business relationship with the firm.
As soon as I notified the firm of my change in employment status, one of the partners began acting very wounded. He alternated between making snippy remarks about how glad he was to see me go and asking me to stay. The next morning, I gave the firm a very reasonable six-week notice of my final departure date.
That day the partner’s assistant placed a long-planned order for company apparel, including monogrammed slippers for us to wear in the office. All seven of us had been eager to receive such a delightful and unusual employee perk. The assistant left the order form where it was certain that I would see it—and only six pairs of slippers were ordered. They made sure I knew I wasn’t going to get anything, even though I had been a loyal employee for more than a year and would still be working with them for another month and a half.
They made sure I knew I wasn’t going to get anything, even though I had been a loyal employee for more than a year and would still be working with them for another month and a half.
It was a childish and silly thing to do. I told the assistant gently that this seemed unnecessary. It certainly didn’t embody the firm’s highly touted environment of positive teamwork. I was not about to talk to the partner directly. It might have resulted in an unpleasant personal conversation.
I mentioned this in passing to the HR manager, who, without my asking her to do so, spoke to the partner about his lack of kindness. She shared with me later that his sense of personal rejection was palpable. Apparently, she ended up talking him through all the hurt feelings that my leaving brought up.
During my remaining weeks at the firm, the partner did apologize and treated me more kindly. We were even able to work together with HR to find my replacement before I left. But he had revealed something that left a sour taste in my mouth. Too much negativity in that workplace. When I finally left to run my own business, I was less inclined to work with them again, even as a consultant.
Call the fashion police—but on the mean girls, not on the fashion victims. One of the meanies was a manager in my company. She had a habit of tormenting a co-worker with rude comments that would be bad enough coming from a gossip magazine. “That dress is oversized.” “Don’t put on such heavy jewelry, it’s unflattering.” “Why do you wear so much makeup?” One day the hapless woman came in wearing a faux fur jacket. The mean manager exploded, “What animal did you scrape up for that thing? You look like you’re wearing roadkill!”
The put-upon employee did not even report to this manager.
A friend of the fashion victim was out one evening with a group of colleagues, among whom was this manager, who was telling everyone how ugly the employee’s clothes were, especially the famous Roadkill Jacket. The next day the friend informed the employee, who promptly reported the manager for workplace bullying.
The department in which the antagonists worked had reputation for cliquish, “mean girl” gossip. Once the jacket-wearer’s complaint became the subject of an investigation by HR, she was very concerned about retaliation; the manager had already started to make working with her very uncomfortable.
HR’s priority was to stop the bullying before it escalated, in or out of the office. The manager had been at the company for a long time, oversaw multiple teams, and not had issues of this nature before. She was well-liked by her other colleagues. People were not forthcoming about the cruel comments made in front of the group. A number of witnesses had to be interviewed to corroborate the allegations (versus bullying incidents subject to “she said/she said” reports).
HR’s priority was to stop the bullying before it escalated, in or out of the office.
The resulting fashion police action was a documented written warning for the manager. She was also coached on professional behavior and treating employees with respect. She was frustrated by the disciplinary action. No one heard any more mean-spirited comments from the manager, but now she was stuck with a reputation as a bully. (Personally, I thought the result was excessively punitive.)
The put-upon employee remained highly sensitive to any less-than-positive interactions with the manager, continually perceiving them as potentially retaliatory. The company spent a lot of time and resources on comments that were—all things considered—relatively benign.
No one heard anymore mean-spirited comments from the manager, but now she was stuck with a reputation as a bully.
Smoking is unhealthy. It turns people into idiots.
My now-defunct company occupied two different floors in the same office building, with employees on the lower level and managers on the upper level. The first-floor people knew that the top-floor people usually weren’t around to see what they were doing, so the smokers among them began to regularly sneak out the side door to take a smoking break. This was in violation of state laws and building safety policies about maintaining a required distance away to smoke, which everyone was well aware of.
The sneaking smokers would prop open the heavy self-locking side door with a rock. This way they didn’t have to leave through the front door to begin with, and then they didn’t have to walk all the way around to the front door to get back in.
One of the managers began to do some sneaking himself. He’d go downstairs to the side door to try and catch employees smoking, and kick away the rock propping it open, locking them out, so they would have to walk all the way around the building to return to work.
Our HR department didn’t think that sneaking by anyone, nor propping and kicking of rocks, was such a good idea. They advised the manager to reissue and publicize a company memo on smoking, citing the appropriate laws and policies. He declined to do so, choosing instead to yell at the smoking employees and continuing to kick the rock.
HR finally approached the head of the downstairs employee group and encouraged her to cease anyone’s practice of smoking near the side door. She promised they would stop.
Without addressing issues politely, appropriately and in a measured way, they said, would only further the upstairs/downstairs divide.
HR also offered to provide some training on business etiquette and respect in the workplace to employees and managers. Not addressing issues politely, appropriately and in a measured way, they said, would only further the upstairs/downstairs divide. This offer was met with great enthusiasm from everyone on both sides (except the rock-kicker).
Unfortunately, the whole outfit abruptly shut down within a week, so there was really no way to find out whether a memo, etiquette training, or any other intervention would have helped restore the health—physical and mental—of anyone involved.
Someone I worked with years ago became known as the serial resigner—The Employee Who Cried Wolf. She developed an unfortunate pattern over two years with the organization.
Any time she got frustrated about something, she declared that she was resigning with two weeks’ notice. The first few times this happened, various management types would meet with her to work through her frustrations and she’d change her mind about leaving. Now she was frustrated about not getting a promotion; for a fourth time (yes, a fourth time) she announced her resignation and gave a histrionic two weeks’ notice. This time her supervisor informed her that her resignation was accepted!
Her loud complaints were creating a disruption, the supervisor said. She did not deserve a promotion. She would be paid for the two weeks but her last day in the office was that day.
The employee claimed she had simply announced she was thinking about possibly resigning. There were issues in her personal life, she said. It was only a casual remark. Management was forcing her out!
The situation was complicated by the organization’s own past actions. The employee had threatened to resign multiple times and management had always talked her out of it. This created an expectation in her that she could say she was resigning any time, she would get the attention she craved, and no one would take her threat seriously. The precedent was set.
The organization ought to have dealt with this no later than the third incident. Frivolous threats are not an appropriate response to daily workplace frustrations. Make clear to wolf-criers that another “resignation” would be accepted as official.
Frivolous threats are not an appropriate response to daily workplace frustrations.
All that was left to determine—as a matter of risk management—was whether the employee actually resigned, or, as she claimed in a complaint to HR, she said she might resign. Too bad for her that she announced her resignation explicitly and unambiguously in a group meeting with eight people present; multiple witnesses attested to both the content and context of her statement. She would not be allowed to rescind. The organization’s decision would not be reversed.
Management was eager to proceed for other reasons: she was a problematic employee who frequently stirred up interpersonal conflicts and drama. It was time to hold her accountable.
The serial resigner stayed home and collected two weeks’ pay. Someone called her bluff. Did she finally understand the consequences of her impulsive actions?
It started with bickering, which turned into sniping, which became a series of increasingly nasty notes that they left for each other. The assistant manager of the hotel would write at the top of the page after her shift and leave it for the head housekeeper, and the head housekeeper would write at the bottom of the page after her shift and leave it for the assistant manager. They kept it up deliberately to annoy one another, till they finally broke into a heated argument.
Not a good look for people in the hospitality industry!
They worked at a waterfront resort and had once been peers as well as co-workers. When the assistant manager was elevated to that post, the head housekeeper resented it. The manager, for her part, resented the assistance that the housekeeper continued to receive from the organization in the form of rides to work.
The manager was also still angry about an incident that took place nearly a year earlier. When the housekeeper took an unexcused absence, the manager had to work many extra hours. The misdeed had not been repeated, but the manager felt she could never trust the housekeeper again. The housekeeper, in turn, felt nitpicked and treated disrespectfully, so she did not behave respectfully toward the manager either.
At first the company wanted to fire one or both employees, but this wouldn’t be easy with the busy summer season coming up. And when they called me in to help, I wasn’t ready to throw in the beach towel. Education and coaching would be a better way to get beyond grudges and hurt feelings.
Every other week for a couple of months, I worked with the assistant manager to develop her maturity as a leader. She needed to regain emotional control. She needed to improve her feedback style to give constructive criticism without anger. She needed to learn how to handle people who became defensive when confronted, and to know when to get help from her supervisor. I also worked with the overall manager of the hotel to coach both employees effectively.
She needed to learn how to handle people who became defensive when confronted, and to know when to get help from her supervisor.
Things settled down. Complaints decreased. The atmosphere was more civil. There was a welcome move toward mutual reconciliation.
Our well-established team used to go out for tea breaks. We had a new supervisor, and one day when we returned from a break, he called my colleague into his office to know why he hadn’t been invited to join us. “I wasn’t sure if you were occupied with something important. Are you free to take a break?” my colleague asked. “I’ll take the time to be with my team,” the supervisor responded.
The next day when we were going out for our break, my colleague checked in with the supervisor to see if he would like to come along. “Haven’t you noticed that I’m busy with something important?!” he shouted. Puzzled, we didn’t check with him again to invite him on breaks.
The following week I returned from a break and saw the supervisor standing outside his office. He called me in. “Why are you avoiding me?” he alleged, raising his voice. “I won’t allow this disrespect to continue!” We were saddened and demoralized that a small issue had become such a big deal. Some of us even contemplated changing teams.
It was clear that the boss was bothered by not getting his ego massaged. When he observed that it didn’t affect us, he ensured that he would remain the center of attention by throwing a tantrum. Within our group we talked about how his actions were stressing us out. We contemplated ways to deal with him in light of his position of power and his threatening approach.
It was clear that the boss was bothered by not getting his ego getting massaged. When he observed that it didn’t affect us, he ensured that he would remain the center of attention by throwing a tantrum.
I thought we needed to have a heart-to-heart discussion with him about the impact of his behavior on the team. I stressed the implications of inaction: not doing anything might affect more than our peace of mind, it might affect our work. Some wanted to go to our boss’s superiors, but I felt that would be unprofessional and only complicate the situation.
We decided not to ignore our supervisor and sneak away to our next break, but instead confront him. I scheduled 15 minutes on his calendar for the following day. (Doing so ahead of time would ensure we wouldn’t intrude on his important work.)
At the stipulated hour we all went in to our leader’s office. He was surprised to see us all there together, since only I had made the appointment. I told him we had a request and he seemed to relax. “We look forward to spending some quality informal time with you during our breaks whenever you’re free,” I said. “But we are not sufficiently aware of your commitments to take the liberty to invite you.” I proposed that every Friday we could block out a time for him to join us on our breaks. He readily agreed.
That settled, I took the opportunity to add that his behavior had made us uncomfortable. There was a deafening silence for couple of seconds. “Maybe I didn’t realize how much I was absorbed in my work,” he responded. We all smiled, thanked him for his time, and left his office with a sigh of relief.
This approach enabled us to maintain our self-respect and also eventually bond with him as a team. (Perhaps if I had proactively told him he could just join us whenever he was available, we could have avoided his flare-up.)
I was the new HR coordinator at a credit union. Several months earlier, a teller had submitted a leave request to take off on a Friday—he was going to be the Best Man at his closest friend’s wedding out of town. He gave the request to his immediate manager and to my boss, the HR generalist.
The credit union’s leave policy for non-exempt employees like the teller only granted them five days of leave per year. Even though he had submitted his request months ahead of time, he would not have accumulated enough leave by the time he needed to take that Friday off. His request would have to be approved or denied based on the balance of his annual leave.
I felt that his request was valid and recommended to my boss that it could be handled in more than one way.
I felt that his request was valid and recommended to my boss that it could be handled in more than one way. He had been employed there for over a year, was hard-working with a great attendance record, customers loved him and he handled their accounts accurately. I was a non-exempt employee myself. I also mentioned that the wedding was only a couple of hours away, so the teller could take off just part of the day, or even take some hours as leave without pay. They could have advanced him annual leave for the day he requested, then subtract it from his future balance to ensure that it was paid back if he left the credit union before he accumulated annual leave.
The HR generalist decided, however, that the teller would not have enough annual leave accrued by the future date. She denied his request and rejected the options I presented to her on his behalf. She was inflexible about doing anything to make it possible for him to attend the wedding as Best Man. She wrote her decision directly on the same paper that the teller had submitted. This had the effect of putting everyone on notice—his manager, my boss, and me—to see if the teller would later try to call out sick on that day in order to attend the wedding.
When the teller did indeed later call out sick on a certain Friday, his manager, my boss, and I remembered that it was the date he had originally put in for his leave request. When he returned to work on Monday, my boss asked him to provide a doctor’s note. Her demand was contrary to the credit union’s policy; only if an employee has been out sick for three or more days are they required to provide a note from a doctor. The teller was aware of this, and so did not provide one.
The whole episode lowered employee morale throughout the organization. For such an important personal occasion as being Best Man, management should have done something to accommodate his leave request. They would have conveyed the message that the credit union cares for its employees, appreciates a work-life balance, and tries to be flexible when possible. They would have given the teller the sense that he is a valued asset to the organization. His many good qualities as an employee should have counted for something more than a flat-out no.
