A few years ago, I received a phone call from a Human Resources person from a staffing agency I almost worked for at one point. I got through the greetings and small talk and got down to business.

HR: “I have a person you know applying for a job with one of our customers.”

Me: “I’m confused; no one gave me a heads up. Who are we talking about?”

HR: “Your friend, [Person’s First Name].”

Me: “Who?”

HR: “[Person’s Full Name] — he said he worked with you at [Email Company].”

Me: “Ohhh, okay. I remember him. But I’m not sure why he’d put my name down. We didn’t work all that closely. I interacted with his team only peripherally because we had equipment in his office. I don’t really feel comfortable providing a reference.”

HR: “That’s sort of our fault; we sort of pressured him to cough up references on the fly.”

Me: “I don’t feel comfortable providing a reference.”

HR: “Come on, [My Name]. We know each other. Help me out.”

Me: “Well, not being his manager, I can’t discuss his performance.”

HR: “Okay. Can I ask you about his technical skills? Can you comment on those?”

Me: “Fine, ask away.”

HR: “How is [Person] with [Software Package]?”

Me: “Okay, I guess. Maybe 2.5 out of five.”

A five out of five is extremely rare for this software. I might be at 4.7, and I’ve used the software for over twenty years, and I’ve even flown to the vendor’s headquarters to work on technology issues and help design future versions of products with them.

HR: “Great! How is he with [Hardware Platform]?”

Me: “Well, in the time he was at [Email Company], he never touched the platform. If he gained knowledge from elsewhere, I can’t comment.”

HR: “Wait, that can’t be right. He said he led the [Hardware Platform] refresh project.”

Me: “That’s not true.”

HR: “[Email Company] is huge. Is it possible you weren’t aware of the project?”

Me: “No. I’m very aware of the project, and he wasn’t leading it.”

HR: “How can you be so sure?”

Me: “Because I led that project.”

HR: *Very uncomfortably* “Oh.”

Me: “I think it’s best for everyone that we end the call here. I think you have a phone call to make.”

HR: “Yeah, that’s probably best.”

I didn’t necessarily bash him but just set the record straight.

CONTENT WARNING: Abusive Parenting

I am working at a sandwich shop. A woman walks in with her timid-looking teenage daughter.

Customer: “I’ll have the six-inch [sandwich].”

She completes her order and then pushes her daughter to the front.

Customer: “Order your sandwich.”

The daughter is unable to make eye contact, she’s visibly distressed, and she looks like she’s trying to mouth some words, but I can’t hear anything.

Me: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

The daughter suddenly starts crying and turns to leave. Her mother tries to get in her way.

Customer: “Oh, no, you don’t! Honestly, it’s a simple sandwich! Just order it! How are you not embarrassed to be this way?!”

Me: “If you know her order, ma’am, I can take it from you. Or she can write it down if—”

Customer: “No! She has to get over this ‘social anxiety’ thing! This is because these kids spend all their time on screens and never interacting with other actual humans!” *To her daughter* “Order your food, or you’ll get nothing.”

The daughter pauses, looks at me for a split second, starts crying again, and rushes to the exit.

Customer: “Ugh! Probably off to cry to her ‘friends’ on her K-Pop forums. Anyway, can I get an application form or a link to your online vacancies?”

Me: “Are you interested in applying for a job here, ma’am?

Customer: “Me?! Oh, God, no! It’s for my daughter! She needs to get a job out in the real world so she can get over her social cowardice!”

Me: “Ma’am, if her social anxiety is so bad that she can’t even order food, then I don’t think working in a place where she has to interact with strangers all day taking their food orders is going to be a good fit for her.”

Customer: “She’s never going to get over this ‘social anxiety’ nonsense if she doesn’t put in the work! If she stays comfortable all the time, she’ll never grow out of it!”

Me: “I’m not qualified to comment, but I don’t think she’ll enjoy working here.”

Customer: “Nonsense! It’s work; you’re not meant to enjoy it! Do you actually enjoy this job?”

Me: “Not at this very moment, no…”

I recently got to nuke a former manager’s chances at my new job.

I used to work at a now-defunct bookstore chain, and a new manager was transferred into ours. All the employees believed that she was intentionally transferred there to tank our (previously well-performing) store so corporate could justify closing that location down. 

[Manager] drove away half the old-timers who had been there for years and knew what they were doing. She often took several hour-long lunch breaks. In an eight-hour shift, her record was four breaks. She also often left the store when there were no other managers on shift.

Three-quarters of our cafe staff quit (including me) after [Manager] fired the cafe manager over a minor incident. We all went in at the same time to submit our two-week resignation notice, and she swept everything off her desk in a rage. The result was a very heavy stapler hitting the wall hard enough to leave a dent. She had a screaming meltdown at all of us.

Immediately, our two-week notice became “effective immediately,” and we all gathered our things, punched out, and left. The entire time, we were serenaded by [Manager] growing increasingly more vile and personal in her freak-out.

A year or two later, I worked as an assistant manager for a competing chain.

General Manager: “By any chance did you work with [Manager] at [Former Location]? She’s applying for a management position with our company.”

I explained everything above, and then I added:

Me: “If you bring her on board, you will have my immediate resignation on your desk before the end of the day.”

Another coworker who had worked for her a few years before me at another location said the same.

Thankfully, the general manager took us seriously, and [Manager] was not brought on board. The sad part is that with people like her, you don’t even have to exaggerate; just telling the truth is enough to make any smart employer toss their resume.

I have a job, but I am casually looking for better compensation (and not retail). I mention this to a friend, and he says his job is hiring. It’s warehouse order fulfillment, so it’s not my cup of tea, but I would only have to travel ten minutes to work instead of half an hour. I tell him I will look into it, but the next day, I get a phone call. 

Me: “Hello?”

Recruiter #1: “Hi, this is [Recruiter #1] at [Company]. Can I speak to [My Name]?”

Me: “Speaking?”

Recruiter #1: “Hi, thank you for taking my call today…”

He goes into a speech, talking about the great opportunities his company provides, the benefits, the hours, and so on. 

Me: “That’s great. So, it’s full-time?”

Recruiter #1: “Yes! We work up to sixty hours per week.”

Me: “That’s a lot. I do have a job right now, so—”

Recruiter #1: “Oh, we were under the impression that you were unemployed.”

Me: “No, I have a job. I’m just seeing what else is out there to decide if I want to switch career paths.”

Recruiter #1: “Well, great!”

The next part of the conversation is what feels like an interview. He asks about my previous job experience, how I handle pressure in the workplace, and whether I can lift up to fifty pounds.

Recruiter #1: “Well, this has been great! Do you have any questions for me?”

Me: “Could you tell me the pay range for this position?”

Recruiter #1: “The… pay range?”

Me: “Right. Like, [Local Gas Station] has window clings saying they pay $13 an hour to start. What is your starting rate?”

Recruiter #1: “Oh. Um, I’m not sure. We can discuss that during your interview, though.”

Me: “I thought we just did the interview?”

Recruiter #1: “No, this is just the initial contact. We can set up an interview for [time and date] if that works for you.”

Me: “Okay…”

The interview time comes, and the conversation is much the same: employment history, conflict resolution, and so on and so on.

Recruiter #2: “Well, I think you would be a great fit for [Company]. If you can come by today, we can get your drug test done, and as long as everything comes back clean, you can start next week.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what is the starting wage?”

Recruiter #2: “Oh, [Recruiter #1] should have told you.”

Me: “He said that would be discussed in this interview.”

Recruiter #2: “I see. Well… I will have to get back to you on that. Are you able to come get your drug test paperwork today?”

Me: “I would like to know the pay before continuing any further with this process.”

Recruiter #2: *Getting annoyed* “That’s not something we discuss outside the company.”

Me: “But you just said [Recruiter #1] should have told me. How can—”

Recruiter #2: “I will have to have someone call you with that information. I don’t have it on hand.”

Me: “Okay. Once I have that, I will decide if I want to join [Company].”

He hangs up without another word. I have basically decided that I’m not taking this job, but I still want to know the pay; their avoidance of the subject just makes me want to press harder.

A week goes by before my next call. [Recruiter #3] goes through the same interview questions, talks about the same benefits… and avoids the same question.

Recruiter #3: “We offer a lot of great benefits, and—”

Me: “Look, I am not going to go forward with this until someone tells me the pay range.”

Recruiter #3: “I don’t have that information on hand.”

Me: “Your team has called numerous times, and I’ve answered the same questions time and again, but nobody there can tell me what the hourly rate will be. If the next person to reach out doesn’t have the answer, I will not be taking the job.”

Recruiter #3: “Okay. Well, thank you for your time.”

They did not call again. I asked my friend what he started at, and he told me it was a dollar above minimum wage.

I work in a store with twelve employees total. Seven have been here for at least two years, and the rest are high turnover. At this point, there’s no one over thirty-five, and for some odd reason, an overwhelming three of us — who happen to be among the seven — have a name that used to be popular but dropped off the charts by the time any of us were born. Let’s say the name is Gertrude.

The only person in charge of hiring is the owner, but we’re often handed resumes, which is expected.

One day, during a slow day with just a coworker and me working, my coworker is off helping an elderly woman around the corner and I hear a squeal.

Coworker: “Oh, my God!”

I hurry toward them to find [Coworker] with a sheet of paper and the elderly woman actually looking rather pleased with a somewhat cheeky smile on her face.

Me: “What’s going on?”

[Coworker] hands me the paper, which turns out to be a resume, trying to stifle a giggle.

Coworker: “She also wants a job.”

Me: “Oh? Well, we’ll leave it for [Owner].” *To the woman* “I’ll be sure the owner gets a look. I’m not sure what’s going… on.”

That is when I notice the woman’s name: Gertrude. Oh. Now I see what the big deal was. I look at the woman, who is grinning like crazy now. My coworker also notices her look.

Me: “Ah.”

Coworker: “Wait, did she know…?”

Woman: “I heard you had all the Gertrudes here. I’m retired, but I just have to work here now.”

So, now we have thirteen employees and four Gertrudes. She’s the only one who came on purpose — and is actually of the age you’d think someone named that would be. She’s eighty-one.