I had a professor who was a Sigmund Freud fangirl. She taught a class that had nothing to do with psychology, but she liked to relate the material to Freud and his discoveries (including reading a book from him that had no relation to anything else being taught).

By then, Freud had been thoroughly debunked. Every now and then, there would be a student who had enough background in psychology to refute what [Professor] said about Freud. Each time, she would pause, and then, while maintaining a bright smile and tone of voice, she passive-aggressively made it clear that the door was closed on all further discussion down that avenue.

Someone even brought up Karl Jung, to which [Professor] outright said that there was no such person. Apparently, the mere mention of Jung was a button of hers.

On the subject that [Professor] taught, she welcomed discussion and debate. But where Freud was concerned, we all had to pretend that he was the only psychoanalyst to have ever lived, his body of work was perfect, and all psychology and psychiatry worth talking about was Freudian.

Recently, my mother-in-law had a major change in attitude. Over the last eleven years, she hasn’t visited us or spoken with me or my husband due to her religious zealot, hate-all attitude. So, it was a surprise when my father-in-law told us they were both coming for Christmas and [Mother-In-Law] had a surprise for me.

Their plane landed, and I was waiting for them in the bag pickup lounge. As soon as [Mother-In-Law] saw me, she made this happy squeak and hugged me.

Mother-In-Law: “Just look at you. You look gorgeous! By the way, where’s the ladies’ room?”

I told her and waited for her to exit the lounge, and I asked [Father-In-Law] what had just happened.

Father-In-Law: “She had a near-death experience. She got mugged and went to the hospital with a cracked skull.”

Me: “Oh, my God! Is she okay? Did they catch the guy?”

Father-In-Law: *Laughing* “No guy. Let me explain. She was stocking shelves at work, and they have these breakfast mugs that are more like big bowls with handles. She was kneeling and tripped when getting up, hitting the shelf with her shoulder, and four mugs fell on her head, knocking her out.”

Me: *Shocked* “So, she’s nice because of that?”

Father-In-Law: “She says Jesus spoke with her and told her to stop hating — that unless she changed her ways, she was going to Hell. Thus, she started volunteering at a soup kitchen and put her name up for housing kids who were kicked out by their parents for being gay. We’ll have our first kid in January.”

My husband, our oldest, and I are still a bit shocked at the change. [Mother-In-Law] made heart-shaped waffles for dinner, played with the triplets, and even bought the cutest clothes for the baby. 

Let’s hope this change is permanent.

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.

CONTENT WARNING: Gross

This guy at my last job was hard to be around; even twenty feet away from him, you could still smell him. Thankfully, I didn’t have to sit anywhere near him, but those who did complained all the time to the floor manager. His body odor was so bad. I don’t know if he just soiled himself and kept wearing the same underwear or something, but he constantly reeked like he had just gone swimming in a feces-filled toilet.

It probably didn’t help that the guy’s car was literally filled with garbage; fast food wrappers and trash filled every part of his car except for the driver’s seat. It also probably didn’t help that he ate like a pig — literally. He would literally hold food in his hands and eat from them like he was dining in a trough. He’d get food all over his face and hands, and then he’d wipe his face and hands on his shirt to “clean” them off.

His keyboard was greasy; we could actually see the grease buildup on the keys from all of the crap he ate. The microphone headset he wore was physically turning orange from all the Cheeto dust he’d get on his hands, and it would transfer onto his headset from him handling it so much.

It gets worse.

His cubicle walls were covered in snot and boogers; he would wipe his finger on the walls after digging in his nose while he was on calls with customers.

Human Resources had to talk to him multiple times about his lack of hygiene. Usually, after the HR lady spoke to him, he would at least stop coming in and smelling like he had soiled himself, but that would only last for so long.

Management kept him around because he was good at his job. (He really wasn’t; he just found easy ways to pad his numbers for the help desk.) Once a proper floor manager came in and created a proper metric system, this guy couldn’t pad his numbers anymore, and they fired him.

After they fired him the floor manager and the maintenance team disassembled his cubicle, and they threw out the walls because of how much snot and boogers were all over them.

Now that I think about it, they actually threw out everything that was in his cubicle because of the health hazard that it was.

I used to work at a bakery/cafe that had baked goods but also served full meals. Being in a college town, we had a wide variety of eaters, and we did the best would could to accommodate everyone.

It was around 12:00 pm, so we had a fairly busy crowd in the restaurant. When it comes to taking orders, after so long, my responses became almost scripted because I say them so much.

Customer #1: “I’m vegan. Do you have anything on the menu I could have?” 

Me: “We don’t particularly have anything specifically vegan, but we can most definitely alter most orders to accommodate within reason.”

Customer #1: “Like what?”

As I said, I become scripted, and we have vegetarians often, so my response was automatic.

Me: “If you’re okay with eggs or cheese, we have the breakfast veggie burrito.” 

Then, I remembered that she’d said she was vegan.

Me: “But we can make it without—”

Customer #1: “Oh, I can eat eggs and cheese.”

Me: “Uh… okay. Potatoes or fruit on the side?”

Customer #1: “Fruit, and a mocha latte with whipped cream.”

Me: “Sure thing. Just to clarify, you would like our breakfast veggie burrito — with eggs and cheese — with a side of fruit, and a mocha latte with whipped cream?”

Customer #1: “Perfect!” 

Me: “Okay, that’ll be [total]. Here is your number; we’ll bring the food to the table when you’re ready.”

The customer proceeded to wander to a table, and the next customer stepped forward.

Customer #2: “I know I’m not hip to all the things anymore, but I thought vegans don’t eat animal products.”

Me: “They don’t… but working in a restaurant, ‘the customer is always right’, and it’s both easier and quicker not to argue.”

[Customer #1] proceeded to enjoy her meal and mocha, leaving the plates clean, left a tip on the table, and said goodbye.