Libraries: The New Google!

, | Norman, OK, USA | Right | April 21, 2017

I work in a library.

A guy from Florida called because he found a painting in his mother in law’s garage and wanted to know what kind of turkey was in it.

The Bad Condition Of The Rules

, | USA | Learning | March 20, 2017

My high school job is shelving books in a library. It is a great job, good pay, wonderful coworkers, and flexible hours. They also have a relaxed dress code, which is basically the same as the local school system’s. That’s actually how they described it to newcomers: anything they can wear to school, they can wear to work at the library.

At another branch, the students started regularly wearing torn jeans to work. The main office saw this and thought it looked trashy, so they made a rule: no more jeans. Every other kind of pants were fine, even sweatpants, but no jeans.

So of course, now I can wear a pair of torn khakis with holes in the knees, according to the rules, but a nice, new pair of intact jeans are not allowed. I don’t think banning jeans in itself is a stupid and unreasonable move, but if they had a problem with the condition of them, it makes more sense to ban any pants in bad condition.

Time To Retire That Attire

, , | UK | Working | January 25, 2017

I have an office in a portakabin of four rooms across the car park from the main building. Only two rooms are occupied.

One day I manage to knock over a glass of water and it soaks a load of papers on my desk and goes all down my trousers, too. I lock the office door, make sure the blinds are closed, and take my trousers off to put them on the heater to dry while I tidy up the desk.

After a few minutes the office door opens and a colleague walks in. She has come to collect some papers and let herself in with the master key. She is lovely but not overly bright.

She sits for a few minutes talking, and then starts to leave. As she is going out the door she asks if I am wearing any underwear. I say of course.

She says that she isn’t sure as it just look like I am only wearing a shirt.

She must have thought that this was normal for me in my office. But it hadn’t crossed her mind to leave when she first saw me, or didn’t she notice till she was leaving?

You’re His ‘Number One’ Guy

, | MI, USA | Right | December 15, 2016

I’m happy to help customers, and thrilled when one remembers my name and wants my assistance each time they visit the store, but there needs to be a line drawn somewhere! The other day, an older gentleman comes in and asks for help finding something in our sales flyer. I show him where it was, he thanks me, and he is on his way.

Later he asks me to show him where something else is. I do, he thanks me, and walks away again. This happens two or three more times. The whole time there are four or five other team members on the floor with nothing in specific to do, yet he is convinced I am his guy. At one point I go in the back room, clearly marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, and he pushes his cart right through and wants me to look something up for him.

A few minutes after that I am helping two customers at once when he comes up and interrupts them to say he wants me to take him to another part of the store and answer some questions. After a while I don’t hear from him and assume he has checked out and left. I have to go to the bathroom.

While I am standing at the urinal I hear the door bang open. I look in the mirror and there he is, propping the bathroom door open so everyone who walks past, in our clothing department, can see me standing there with a look of shock on my face as I pee. He walks over right next to me.

“Are you almost done? I’ve got some questions over in the car batteries!”

Did A Job On You

, , , , | UK | Friendly | December 12, 2016

I am autistic and because of this have always come off as… odd. Odd enough most people don’t want to hire me.

I am in the job centre to look at the jobs available so I can apply when a man walks over and starts talking to me. I try to be polite as he insists on continuing to talk until finally he says “I’m from [Local Church] group.c

I smile and say that I’m not interested, leafing through the information pages of the jobs. Finally he comments on my accent.

I am English born and raised, but my autism has given me a strong northern American accent. I explain that to him, making a joke about it making me unique like I always do even as I feel myself wilting inside. I find social interaction exhausting.

The next thing I know, the man puts his hand on my shoulder and says “I am so sorry to hear that!” Like I have a terminal disease and I only have three days to live. And I am panicking because I hate being touched and he’s looking me straight in the eyes as he says this. “But one day the lord will help you.”

And that’s when I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the building still carrying the paper. Never went back and ended up being signed off work from stress.

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