Temp Agency Needs More “Training”

, , , , | Working | January 12, 2018

I’m employed through a temp agency, like almost everyone in the department I work in. This is easier for the company, since they can’t guarantee full time employment, due to the nature of the work. This morning, we expect a new temp, but she’s very late. Our supervisor decides to call the temp agency to ask where she is.

After the first call, we hear she’s on her way, but the agency doesn’t know why she is so extremely late, so they promise to call us back.

When the agency calls back, our supervisor tells us what happened. The new worker, who lives in The Hague — about 35 kilometers from the town the office is in — is on the train station, but says she can’t afford to buy a train ticket.

Everyone is amazed by the story. We all feel very sorry for the girl for not even being able to buy the train ticket, which would require about €20. However, a few of us are here with a car, so the idea comes to send one of us over to pick her up. Our supervisor calls the temp agency again to tell them the plan.

After the call, our supervisor tells us, “The plot thickens.” Why? “She’s in Groningen.” Yes, she is in a city in the far northeast of the country, from which she would have to travel about 3 hours to get here! On the morning of her first day with us…

Needless to say, the new girl didn’t need to come in anymore. And as our supervisor said: “No wonder she couldn’t afford the ticket.”

The Rewards Program Is Not Its Own Reward

, , , , , | Working | January 12, 2018

(I am shopping with a friend. I notice a new employee at the register. While most employees at this store wear clothes with goth and/or metal aesthetics, she stands out; she is absolutely decked out with the store’s merchandise, and she has dyed a bright blue streak in her hair. Initially, I think little of it, and when I’m finished with my shopping, I go to her register to pay. Then…)

Employee: “Okay, and what is your email address?”

Me: “Why are you asking me for that information?”

Employee: *snottily* “Management says that everybody who shops here is joining our rewards program. Give me your email address.”

Me: “I have never heard of that policy before. What is my email address being used for?”

Employee: “Everybody who shops here is required to sign up for the rewards program to purchase. I am signing you up.”

Me: “No, thank you. You haven’t even explained what it is.”

Employee: “We will send you frequent promotional messages telling you what’s new at [Store]. You can also earn points with every purchase. It’s free money, and who doesn’t like that?”

Me: “No, thanks; I don’t want any emails from here. I want to pay for my stuff.” *pulls out wallet*

Employee: “I mean, I guess you could not join, if you really hate getting good deals and free money.”

Me: “I don’t want emails, thank you. Please let me pay.”

Employee: “But you’ve already earned points. I mean, there’s no need to be so wasteful.”

Me: “No, thank you. Here is my credit card.”

Employee: “If you don’t sign up for a rewards program, I’m giving them to the next customers. Those two guys behind you are going to steal your points.”

Me: “They can have them. Please let me buy my stuff.”

Employee: *glares as she slowly swipes my debit card on both sides* “Well, people have turned down joining the rewards program and regretted it before. Are you—”

Me: “I do not want to join your rewards program.”

Employee: “Ugh, fine.”

(I got my card and purchased stuff from her with no negative repercussions. She did indeed push the program on the two guys behind me; they obliged pretty quickly as she made passive-aggressive remarks about my intelligence. My friend reported similar behavior when she tried to pay later on, and even a few months later, when it turned out the employee not only managed to stick around but works most days and hours of the week. We have not returned since!)

Wendy Wouldn’t Approve

, , , , , | Right | January 12, 2018

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Fast Food Place]! What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “No, thanks.”

Me: *pause* “What?”

No Smooth Ways To Get Out Of The Exam

, , , , , , , | Learning | January 12, 2018

(I work in a local school, not as a teacher, but my position means I’m regularly helping out students in classes across multiple subjects and grade levels. I am a man. This happens one day in a grade-nine math class.)

Me: *walking past [Female Student #1], noticing she is falling a bit behind the average question students are up to* “[Female Student #1], do you know what to do?”

Female Student #1: “What? Oh, yeah, sure. Um, sir, can I ask you something?”

Me: “Sure, what can I help you with?”

Female Student #1: *pushing one of her legs out from under her desk into the walk-space* “Feel my leg.”

Me: *absolutely taken aback* ” Um… No. Why?”

Female Student #1: *actually sounding a little annoyed* “Sir, just touch it. It’s smooth.”

Me: “I’m not going to do that. How about we get back to doing question—”


Female Student #1: “Touch my leg!”

(At this point the students classmate chimes in.)

Female Student #2: “Just feel her leg, sir. I did; it’s really smooth.”

(This has officially reached “too weird” levels.)

Me: “I believe you.”

(I just walk away to another table of students. To my amazement, I hear [Female Student #1] talking to the class teacher.)

Female Student #1: “…and is refusing to touch it. Come on, miss! You do it!”

Teacher: *giving me a “WTF is going on?” look* “Yes, it’s smooth, [Female Student #1]. Can you do your math now?”

Female Student #1: “Can you tell my Mr. [My Name] to do it, too?”

(At this point the teacher and I lost it in fits of laughter. The ridiculousness of the situation was just too much. After class we found out the student had had her legs waxed for the first time and wanted to show it off. We could not get her to understand why it was inappropriate for her to ask a grown man to feel how smooth her thighs were. Ah, the innocence of the young.)

Not Getting Your Just Desserts

, , , , , | Working | January 11, 2018

(I am having a bad day and decide to get some ice cream to help cheer me up. My roommate goes with me to a restaurant near us. They have a brownie sundae on the menu that I’ve been meaning to try.)

Waitress: “What can I get you?”

Roommate: “I’ll have the cheese fries.”

Me: “And I’d like the brownie sundae, please.”

Waitress: “Sure thing!”

(She leaves and comes back a few minutes later.)

Waitress: “So, um, you wanted ice cream on your sundae, right?”

Me: “Yes?”

Waitress: “My boss just told me it doesn’t come with ice cream, but you can add it for a dollar.”

Me: “What does it come with?”

Waitress: “Just, like, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I can push for us to give it to you, and argue that it’s misrepresented on the menu.”

Me: “No… I guess I’ll just have it without.”

Waitress: “Okay. Your food should be right up.”

(She brings our food and sets down a slab of cold brownie with the saddest, deflated dollop of whipped cream on it.)

Waitress: “We’re, um, not really known for our desserts.”

(The cheese fries were still great, as usual, and of course, we tipped her, but I won’t be ordering dessert from them any time soon!)

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