Killing The Company, One Person At A Time

, , , , , | Working | March 14, 2018

I work for a cleaning company that has a contract with a set of factories in my small town. As far as I know, it’s the only cleaning company in town. I’m hired to work weekend mornings, and I do so, enjoying my job for two years. It’s not necessarily fun work, but I get along with the people at the factory, except my boss.

She doesn’t take criticism. Period. And she never takes any blame when something goes wrong, so it’s a recipe for disaster.

Naturally, cleaning in a factory isn’t an appealing job, and it doesn’t pay well, so not many people apply for the job. Those that do are often scared away by my boss; as a result, anyone that stays is never reprimanded or fired since we have a shortage of employees.

That’s pretty normal in the business world, but about eight months ago we found ourselves at a serious shortage of employees, and I was “asked” to work weekday night shifts. It’s not something I was comfortable doing, but I was assured it was a short-term thing until they hired more people.

Lo and behold, six people got jobs over the next few months, and they either quit or skipped most of their shifts without reprimand. At this time, my boss did the incredibly idiotic thing of dumping all of the hours the new employees were supposed to take onto one person.

So, that person quit because they were flooded with more hours than they could handle. Then, my boss just took all those hours and handed them to the next person. You can see where this is going.

Eventually it got to me, and I was already working shifts I didn’t sign up for. Now, I was being bombarded with hours I couldn’t handle. At the same time, the company was now down to a handful of people. I overheard my boss talking, saying that if we lost any more people, she wasn’t sure the company would be able to do its job. If not, it would lose its contract, effectively killing the company.

And her response? “I have no idea how this could be happening!”

Treat It Like A Boss

, , , | Right | March 14, 2018

(It is a busy Friday night, right after I’ve turned 20. My family and I have just moved to a small gambling town for job prospects about a month prior. A pair of brothers own about half the town, including the casino I am hired onto about a week after moving in. Due to my ability to deal with rude and borderline belligerent, drunk people and my sunshine personality, I am assigned to cashiering at one of the buffets on the nights and weekends. In my first several days of training, it is stressed to me that I must ask for ID from every customer, every time, if they make a credit or player’s card purchase, even if I know them.)

Me: “Okay, sir, I have [number] adults and [number] children. Your total is [amount], please.”

Guest: “Sure, no problem.” *hands me credit card*

Me: “Thank you, sir. Now I just need to check your ID real quick, please, and we’ll have you on your way.”

Guest: “Seriously?”

Me: “Yes, sir. This is as much for your protection as the casino’s.”

Guest: *looks at me incredulously* “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Me: *smiles wide, and calls on all the high school theater I can muster* “No, sir.” *leans in and drops to a conspiratorial tone* “Do you know who I am?”

Guest: *stops, confused* “Well, no.”

Me: *grins again, straightens up* “Great! So, we’re even! ID, please.”

(The guest continues to look at me like I’ve grown a second head while I compare his name and ID… and realize his name is the same as one of the brothers who owns my casino.)

Me: “Oh, dear sweet baby Jesus.”

(The owner started howling with laughter, and refused to accept my apologies, stating that while I “probably should know who my bosses are” he was glad to know that his assets were so hilariously guarded by smart-aleck cashiers.)

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AdSense Versus No Sense

, , , , , , , | Working | March 13, 2018

A couple years ago, I was tasked with buying advertising space through Google to promote our company’s video-on-demand service. However, after a few days, our ads were suspended, because we had to submit proof that we had the rights to use some intellectual property that belonged to movie studios; our ads featured lots of popular film characters. I told my boss what happened, and suggested we go ahead and get in touch with our contacts at the studios as soon as we could to obtain written proof that we could use the characters, My boss was having none of it. The way he saw it, Google was screwing us over, and my job was to get them to immediately reverse their policy-based decision and run our ads.

Unsurprisingly, I was not successful in doing so, although I had a very productive call with Google. They gave me further information and guidelines about their policy, and told me how to get the situation sorted out as quickly as possible. I told my boss about it, but he said that surely I wasn’t insistent enough, and called me into his office to show me “how it’s done.”

Cue the most cringe-worthy moment of my life, during which I sat in front of my boss while he called the reception desk at Google headquarters and (unsuccessfully) harassed the receptionist for 20 minutes, asking to be put through to Larry Page. When he finally gave up, he just told me to do whatever it takes to get the ads up and running as soon as possible, at which point I just followed Google’s guidelines as instructed. Wouldn’t you know it, the ads were up and running less than a day later.

This was one of many crazy things that happened at that company during the time I worked there. They were a very small outfit, yet they always expected to be treated like one of the giants out there — and spent money they didn’t have, accordingly. I smelled disaster coming and quit just a few months after this, and they went bankrupt less than a year later.

Your Review Is Under Review

, , , , | Working | March 13, 2018

(I was fired a few months ago by an employer, without warning. The office had a very negative vibe, with bullying from management. Less than two weeks later, I got a job in a bigger company through an agency. A month later, I receive a call during my lunch break.)

Me: “Hello?”

Team Leader: “Hi, [My Name], this is [Team Leader] from [Company].”

Me: “Oh… Hi.”

Team Leader: “I just wanted to talk to you about a review I saw on [Website]. I wanted to check whether you wrote it.”

(The website isn’t one I know.)

Me: “Sorry, no. It wasn’t me.”

Team Leader: “It’s just that if it was you, there’s allegations I’d like to discuss, about bullying and cliques within the company.”

Me: “Right… Well, like I said, it wasn’t me.”

Team Leader: “I haven’t told anyone about the review, you know. But it matches the time you worked here and was written the week after you were fired.”

Me: *losing patience* “I spent that week trying to find new work, not writing reviews. It wasn’t me. Please drop it.”

Team Leader: “But if it was, then—”

Me: “It wasn’t. And I’m really not interested in this. Goodbye.” *hangs up*

(I looked up the review later that day. The number of years worked and job title were completely different from my own. There were also another five scathing reviews, making six out of seven reviews one star.)

Schooling Them On How To Deal With School Workers

, , , , , | Working | March 13, 2018

(I work at a popular sushi restaurant as a cashier and hostess, and I am also responsible for takeout orders. We are so busy, we quite literally have no open seats this night. I am between takeout orders, trying to solve a glitch in the system, when the owner comes up and asks me to not stand around and to instead fill up people’s waters. The owner just recently bought the place and does not yet know how to do anything, especially not my job — this is important — and is also incredibly socially inept, to the point that the staff and regulars know to avoid him. I tell him that I am not allowed to serve, by the terms of my work permit, due to my age.)

Owner: “It’s only alcohol you cannot serve.”

Me: “Sorry. The school, who issued my permit, told me I was not allowed to serve people at all. I don’t really want any legal problems. I’m not 16, yet.”

Owner: *glaring* “Let’s have a chat outside.”

(I follow him out and away from the entrance.)

Owner: “I need you to tone down the attitude.”

Me: *genuinely confused* “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come across as sassy—”

Owner: “You are.”

Me: “Can you give me an example, so I know what to improve on? I’m not sure what you are referring to.”

Owner: “You’re just a 15-year-old little girl; you shouldn’t even be here. I wouldn’t have hired you if I knew you were 15.”

Me: “Here’s my work permit, if you want to see it.”

Owner: “It’s busy right now; I don’t have time for that! I just need you to tone down the attitude. And don’t go crying to the manager every time you don’t want to do something. Go fill people’s water.”

(He is referring to the time he asked me to clean the fingerprints off our glass doors. I went to the manager — currently out of town — to ask what I was supposed to use, and she told me it was actually my coworker’s job, done at the end of the night, and that I shouldn’t worry about it.)

Me: “I was told by my school, when they gave me the permit, that I cannot do that.”

Owner: *visibly angry* “Who do you work for, me or your school?! Don’t talk back to me; do you understand?!”

Me: *walking away* “Yes. I won’t, because I quit. I don’t need this.”

(Since I’m 15, I can’t drive, so I grab my stuff and wait outside for my ride. My shift would have ended 30 minutes after this conversation.)

Owner: *visibly panicking* “Come inside and finish your shift. Act like an adult!”

Me: “I mean, you just called me a little girl, so why would I? I. Quit. You want to call me sassy? I can be sassy; nothing’s stopping me, now.”

Owner: “You really want to start this now?”

Me: “Yes.”

Owner: “Don’t cause a scene for the customers; it’s bad for business.”

(The owner went back inside, but came back three more times to offer me my job back, because the restaurant was absolutely packed, he had no idea how to run it, and no one else could spare the time to do the jobs I left behind. I felt bad for leaving my coworkers hanging on such a busy night, but they usually just avoided him and did their own jobs, anyway, so hopefully I only screwed him over.)

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