"They Scheduled Their Vacations So I Couldn't Go" – Your Coworkers Aren't Your Friends

After a tough day, I grabbed coffee with my favorite coworkers. Two of us stayed behind with a girl who had been kind and helpful from the start—we were genuinely close. She shared how excited she was about a promotion next month and really counting on the raise because she planned to move to a pricier apartment. I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I told her she probably wouldn’t get the position because the manager didn’t like her. (They didn’t get along, it was an open secret.) The next day, the manager called me into his office and accused me of gossiping. That little snake had told him everything, and I got in trouble for trying to help.

During lunch in January, the girls and I were chatting about summer plans. I mentioned we always go to Sardinia in the second week of September, where my husband’s family owns an apartment. The next day, I tried to book my vacation—and found out the second week of September was impossible because three people had already requested that time off the afternoon before. Guess who? The same three colleagues I’d told about my plans.

A manager once deleted my uploaded work from our shared drive just to undermine me. That’s when I learned to save everything in multiple places.

My boss, a man in his fifties, crossed the line with inappropriate comments and unwanted touches, clearly harassment. Two senior colleagues witnessed this often and promised to back me up if I reported it to HR. But when I did, they acted like they never saw anything and I was making it up. I hope karma catches up with them.

I often helped a male colleague because I knew he had three young kids and a lot on his plate at home. When his workload started to take over my own—even on weekends—I politely said no once. The next day, the boss called me in and said rumors were spreading that I was lazy.

I casually mentioned to my two favorite coworkers—who I was almost friends with—that sometimes I count lunch breaks as work hours. The next day, HR called me in. I smiled and told them to check the cameras and login records—I never cheated, I just wanted to test my coworkers’ loyalty. And I found out exactly what I needed.

In good faith, I shared how much I earned—and the next day I was fired. Older employees were upset and threatened the boss that they’d quit together if their pay wasn’t raised. Nobody cared that I worked extra shifts, had specialized qualifications, and spoke several languages.

I asked my supervisor how to handle a dissatisfied client. I followed their advice, but the client ended up writing a complaint about me. When I confronted my supervisor, they denied ever telling me to handle it that way. I couldn’t prove it, so now I handle everything in writing.

I work only with men—I’m the only woman. They knew I was going through a divorce and were very supportive. When the divorce was finalized, I told them I’d throw a party to celebrate. They said it was a great idea and they looked forward to the invite. I booked a table, promised food, dancing, and fun. Six said for sure they’d come—none showed up. I stood there alone with a bunch of food. I went home and cried, but it was a valuable lesson. Since then, I treat everyone strictly as coworkers and stopped bringing treats.

We were close friends as long as the company was doing well. But when layoffs were announced, every personal detail we knew about each other became a weapon. The office drama made Game of Thrones look tame. I quit on my own because I was fed up—I’d never been so disappointed in people. Since then, I run my own business and prefer working solo.

Photos: istockphoto.com