My brother is a professor at the University of Barcelona, and he teaches European Union Law, replacing a retiring professor who, according to the faculty, had slipped into a predictable pattern.

My brother didn’t really put much weight to this, until, when grading the written exam papers, he noticed that six different people had given the same exact wrong answer, all of them about a different section of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union. He was baffled, so of course, when one such student asked for a meeting with him, he decided to get the bottom of this mystery.

Brother: “Ah, Mr. [Student], are you here to talk about your exam?”

Student: *Looking indignant.* “Yes, I am perplexed by my failing grade, and I would like an explanation.”

Browsing through the papers, he finds the student’s paper, and immediately points at the section that confused him:

Brother: “Well, let us start with this question, which was about how the articles in question were about the protection of free enterprise, but you claimed said articles were about EU employee harassment compensation instead.”

Student: *Looking stumped.* “Wait, what? Really? That’s not what the notes said!”

Brother: “May I see the notes, if you have them here with you?”

He did, and he discovered the previous retiring professor was very predictable in his exam questions. He literally proposed the same exact six questions year after year, and the students were now relying on a list of pre-packaged answers to pass.

With this mystery solved, he explained the shell-shocked, and a little bit daft, student the truth, and from that point onward he made sure to mention his exams weren’t going to have eternally-repeating questions, no matter what the notes sold on campus claimed.

I’ve worked in an office-type job for a few years now. I mostly handle assistant admin tasks, although I sometimes also work on “field jobs”.

My supervisor, and partner, ended up retiring a bit early due to health reasons, and they hired a new person to fill that vacancy. The new guy did pretty well. They had a decent understanding of the field, and whatever they didn’t know outright, they picked up fairly quickly when instructed. Their only issue was personal space.

I am color-blind. No, I don’t see everything as grey, but I have difficulties separating certain colors from each other. It’s the one thing I bring up during those “tell an interesting fact about yourself” talks, and so the new hire knew this. However, it was still very personal, and it made me feel vulnerable.

A week or so after the new hire started, I stepped out of the office for a quick personal call. When I came back, I realized something was wrong with my computer. Obviously, I could see that something was going on, but I had major trouble reading what was on the screen.

At this point, my new coworker started laughing. It turned out that they had thought to “prank” me for forgetting to lock out my computer. How? By changing the colours of my interface to something I couldn’t recognize — not just changing the wallpaper or something, but by literally pointing out my disability and making me unable to do my job.

I couldn’t handle it. I started crying and basically had a panic attack. The next I remember, I was in a manager’s office, probably after trying to explain what happened. I don’t remember much else besides that they told me to go home and call them once I felt better.

When I got back, the new hire was nowhere to be seen. We might not have the ADA, but we have some officials that take care of people with disabilities.

The summer before my last year of college, I sign up with a temp agency to make some extra pocket money. I make it very clear that I’m still in college and I’m only interested in working during holidays or weekends. I’m not desperate for money and I’m not putting my education in jeopardy over temp work for minimum wage.

Three weeks before the start of the academic year, I’m sent to work in a warehouse. What’s meant to only last a couple of days ends up becoming open-ended — not permanent as I’m still working through the temp agency — but when my contact at the agency calls me to let me know, I remind her that I’m only available until [last Friday before term starts].

The place is dysfunctional.

Example #1: Despite being a warehouse for a major Spanish clothes brand, there’s zero security. No one checks our bags (which we just pile up wherever we like or carry with us) and there are no cameras. Personally, I find this brand’s clothes ugly, especially those for men, and I seriously wonder whether that’s their deterrent.

Example #2: Zero security extends to control over who comes in or leaves. A guy disappears halfway through a shift and reappears a day or two later.

Manager: “Hey, did you leave early the other day?” 

Employee: “Oh, I had a doctor’s appointment.”

Manager: “Okay. Let me know next time.”

Example #3: Another guy disappears halfway through a shift. A couple of days later, I hear the manager say:

Manager: “Hey, didn’t we hire one more guy?”

I just show up every day on time and go about my duties at a reasonable pace, which means I’m soon detected as the “responsible temp” and I’m “promoted” regularly. After a couple of days, they start asking me to do slightly more complex stuff than moving boxes around. By the end of my second week, I’m doing admin rather than manual work.

On my last day, I say goodbye to the people I’ve worked most closely with and disappear into the night to enjoy my last weekend before classes restart.

The following Monday, while I’m on campus, I look at my phone and I have missed calls from the temp agency and a text from my dad, saying the agency called home. This is all like thirty minutes after my shift would have started if I’d continued working there.

I call the agency.

Agency Rep: “Why are you not at work?”

Me: “I told you I would only be available until [last Friday].”

Agency Rep: “But since you were doing so well, we thought you’d stay! They really liked you!”

Sure, like I’m going to choose a minimum-wage temp job that could be terminated at any time with zero notice over completing my final year of university education.

The thing that surprised me the most is that I’d seen guys just vanish from the warehouse and no one seemed to notice until a day or two later, whereas within half an hour of me not showing up, they’d even called my dad. If I was such an essential worker after only three weeks, maybe they could have tried negotiating with me and offering to work around my schedule rather than expecting me to just keep showing up. It probably wouldn’t have worked — I soon found part-time work in my field — but at least I could have stayed another week or two while they found a replacement.

Back in the early 2000s, I return some DVDs I’ve borrowed from my university library’s media counter. A few days later, I try to borrow some books from the main counter, but I’m told that there’s a block on my account because I didn’t return some DVDs. I say I did return them, and they ask me to speak to someone at the media counter.

Me: “Hi. According to the system, I didn’t return [DVDs], but I think whoever was working the desk when I returned them forgot to scan them or something.”

Librarian: “And I’m supposed to just believe you?”

Me: *Shocked* “Or… You could check if the DVDs are in the drawers behind you?”

Librarian: “Oh! Right.”

They were there. She didn’t say another word or even apologize. She just looked very embarrassed while she made sure to scan each DVD.

Related:
The Contrarian Librarian Runs Out Of Time
The Contrarian Librarian: The Childhood Years
Softening Of The Contrarian Librarian
The Contrarian Librarian: Looking For Work
Re-emergence Of The Contrarian Librarian