Some workplaces feel less like a job and more like a carnival attraction gone wrong — a distorted hall of mirrors where everything looks familiar but nothing is quite what it seems. Policies exist, but somehow bend. Procedures exist, but mysteriously shift when someone with the right relationships wants an exception. Communication exists, but only travels in certain directions.
Where, at the end of the day, employees are expected to:
shut up, get screwed over, and be happy about it.
Welcome to the Workplace Funhouse.
No corporate skyscraper required — toxicity thrives just fine anywhere people have power and refuse accountability.
The Setup: A Simple Question, A Familiar Headache
Every workplace has its thing.
For some, it’s unclear communication.
For others, it’s favoritism.
For far too many, it’s both.
Recently, I ran into a situation involving overtime assignments — something that should be simple, mechanical, and entirely procedural. There are rules. There’s seniority. There’s a sign-up list. There’s a board. Done.
Except it wasn’t done.
Let me paint the scene, because it’s the kind of situation many people recognize instantly.
At my workplace, certain shifts or assignments are supposed to follow a standard process — a set order, a clear set of rules, a structure we all rely on so no one is blindsided or unfairly leapfrogged. In theory, it’s simple:
- People are asked in order of seniority.
- If no one takes the assignment, it gets posted publicly.
- Whoever gets to it first can take it.
Straightforward, right?
Except one day I walked in, saw an assignment clearly posted as “available,” and asked to take it — only to be told someone might already have it. Then later, the assignment vanished from the board and had been quietly given to someone with less seniority, because they were directly texted before anyone else was even considered.
So I wrote a polite email asking for clarification. Not confrontation. Not accusation. Just clarity. This place is absolutely rife with miscommunication so I wanted a straight answer on the proper procedure for how overtime gets assigned.
And what came back?
The classic funhouse-management response:
“No violation was found. See me if you want to discuss further.”
Not an explanation.
Not a clarification.
Not a correction.
Ah yes.
The HR-approved version of:
“Stop asking questions that make us uncomfortable.”
The Art of Saying Nothing While Pretending It’s Something
What management often doesn’t realize is how painfully transparent this behavior is.
They could have:
- explained the exception
- clarified a new process
- admitted someone made a human mistake
- acknowledged that the procedure was inconsistently applied
- or simply said, “We’ll make sure this is handled more consistently next time.”
Instead, they chose the Vague Non-Answer Answer — a bureaucratic magic trick where the words move but the meaning doesn’t.
It’s the professional version of:
“Because I said so.”
When leaders answer questions without actually answering them, the message is unmistakable:
- “We don’t feel obligated to explain ourselves.”
- “The rules are flexible — but only when we want them to be.”
- “If something feels unfair to you, that’s not our problem.”
- “Stop asking questions that reveal our inconsistencies.”
This is favoritism’s quiet twin.
Not loud, not flashy — just persistent and dismissive.
And when leaders communicate like this, here’s what employees hear instead:
- “There was favoritism, we just don’t want to admit it.”
- “Your seniority doesn’t matter unless it’s convenient for us.”
- “You’re asking questions we’d rather you didn’t ask.”
- “Accept the double standard and smile.”
Favoritism Isn’t Usually Loud — It’s Quiet, Consistent, and Dismissive
Most favoritism doesn’t look like:
- special awards,
- shiny promotions,
- or blatant rule-breaking.
It looks like:
- texts sent to some employees, not others
- rules enforced for some, bent for others
- quick answers for favorites, dead air for everyone else
- “investigations” that begin and end in the same sentence
- “come see me” tactics designed to shut down the paper trail
And let’s be honest:
If everything was above board, the explanation would have been easy.
The vagueness is the answer.
The Silent Expectation: Don’t Question the System
There’s a deeply embedded cultural rule in many workplaces:
Never challenge something that isn’t serving you.
Just keep the machine running smoothly for everyone else.
And when you do challenge it — calmly, professionally, with receipts — you’re treated like the problem.
Because the truth is, There is a cultural expectation in many workplaces that employees should:
- accept unequal treatment,
- pretend the system is fair even when it isn’t,
- swallow confusion,
- tolerate inconsistency,
- and stop asking questions that force accountability.
When you do ask a question — calmly, professionally, with the intention of understanding — you’re often treated as though you created the problem simply by pointing it out.
And people who abuse their authority LOVE this dynamic.
Because confusion is a tool.
Ambiguity is a shield.
Vagueness is protection.
Not for you — for them.
The message is clear:
Your silence is expected.
Your compliance is required.
Your mistreatment is invisible — by design.
But Here’s the Thing: You’re Not Wrong for Wanting Clarity
You’re not wrong for asking how a process works.
You’re not wrong for wanting consistency.
You’re not wrong for expecting fairness.
You’re not wrong for noticing when things are off.
And you are absolutely not wrong for documenting it.
Favoritism festers in the dark.
Evasion thrives in confusion.
Power imbalances grow where transparency dies.
Naming the pattern doesn’t create the problem — it only reveals it.
For Anyone Reading This Who Feels the Same
If you’ve ever:
- been brushed off with a flimsy “I looked into it,”
- asked for explanation and got a door instead,
- watched rules magically apply to you but not others,
- or felt punished for wanting simple fairness…
You’re not crazy.
You’re not dramatic.
You’re not overreacting.
You’re experiencing a workplace culture that expects silence instead of accountability.
And you deserve better.
Because Here’s the Truth They Hope You Never Recognize
A healthy workplace doesn’t fear questions.
A fair process can withstand scrutiny.
A confident manager doesn’t hide behind vagueness.
And leadership that refuses transparency is leadership that knows transparency is dangerous — to them.
So don’t shut up.
Don’t accept being screwed over.
And don’t pretend you’re happy about it to make someone else comfortable.
Your voice matters — even when they hope you’ll lose it.
What If You Can’t Speak Up Safely?
Many empowerment posts end with:
“Raise your voice!”
“Don’t take it!”
“Call them out!”
But let’s be honest:
Not everyone can.
Not everyone should.
And not everyone is in a position where speaking up won’t cause real harm.
There are workplaces where standing up for fairness gets you punished for “disruption.”
There are workplaces where retaliation is subtle but devastating.
There are workplaces where documentation matters more than confrontation.
And there are people — like me — who need the income, stability, healthcare, or schedule and cannot afford to rock the boat in a system where the boat has already been rocked at them.
So here’s what I can say honestly, without hypocrisy:
You do not owe your silence,
but you also do not owe your destruction.
Your choice to stay quiet for your own safety is not weakness.
Your choice to document instead of confront is not cowardice.
Your choice to survive the Funhouse in the way that protects you best is valid.
You do not have to martyr yourself to prove you’re being mistreated.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is say nothing out loud
—but write down everything.
If You’ve Been Here Too…
If you’ve ever asked a fair question and been brushed off…
If you’ve ever watched rules magically apply to you and not others…
If you’ve ever realized your workplace expects gratitude for unfairness…
You’re not imagining it.
You’re not overreacting.
You’re not the problem.
You’re just stuck in the Funhouse — a place that was never designed to be fair.
But naming it helps.
Documenting it protects you.
Talking about it with people who understand helps you breathe again.
And recognizing the pattern is the first step to making sure it doesn’t break you.
And in the words of P!nk…
“This used to be a funhouse,
But now it’s full of evil clowns.”
Some of us are still working inside it.
Some of us are building the exit.
All of us deserve better.
