This thread is so much fun! So here's one of mine...
My first job, working as a cashier at a stop-and-shop quicky mart. I got the job as a junior in high school, paid 15 cents more per hour than minimum wage. Decent manager, the owners showed up to count the cash and sign for deliveries, everything else was on us.
We had pretty good continuity, people stayed typically 12-24 months, with occasional bumps in pay. Pretty laid back, to the point where payroll checks were loaded under the cash drawer every other Friday, and anyone could scan them as they weren't in envelopes.
Well, a new guy had been hired, and I was training him his first week. I was now graduated from HS, and starting at the junior college up the hill. I'd moved out to my own apartment (at age 17!), and was a great employee for them - never sick, always willing to cover for others' absences, never late, good at training. When paychecks came out in New Guys' second week, as I sorted through the stack to get my check, I could see that his hourly rate was higher than mine.
OK, I hadn't asked for a raise for awhile, and surely I was worth it, and I understood that the boss doesn't *have* to pay me more unless I ask...so I do.
The next Saturday morning, the owner was in, and I asked him for a raise. I mentioned that I'd been there now 18 months, was now a college student, and was worth a 50 cent raise (so I'd be making 25 cents more than New Guy). So I would have gone from $3.90/hour to $4.40/hr. Boss says nope.
I ask why I'm being paid less than New Guy. Boss says it's because he does swing shift (3pm-11pm). I remind him that *I* do swing shift, too! And I am worth more. Still nope. Even worse, he dared me - "If you think you're worth more, go find someone else to pay it."
So I go up the hill to the JC's job board for college students, find a listing for a small Mom and Pop copy shop in town (coincidentally, half a mile from my new apartment), and go in person to apply. I am hired on the spot, to start the next day, at $4.75 per hour.
I then ride my badass new scooter (bought two weeks before, paid for in cash, from job savings) to the quicky mart, and tender my immediate resignation (no one ever gave two weeks notice for the cashier/stocking job). He's dumbfounded, and I am delighted. It could only have been more epic if I'd managed it on the holiday weekend a couple of weeks earlier.
That was in 1983, and it still gives me joy to have proven to that old misogynistic assh*le that there were young women who wouldn't put up with his sh*t.