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This Interviewer Knows How Fathers Work

, , , , , , | Related | July 31, 2020

When our first child is eight months old, we plan a family holiday to Fiji. Our daughter is too young to have her own passport so she has to be added to mine. My husband also needs to sign that he approves for her to go on my passport. This is to check that the mother isn’t planning to take the child overseas behind the father’s back.

This is considered such a serious concern that they follow up on the husband’s permission with a phone interview. Accordingly, my husband gets a call from the passport office in Canberra.

Interviewer: “Good morning, sir. We’re just following up on a passport application for your daughter. We need your approval to process it.”

Husband: “Yes, that’s all good. I’m fine with it; it’s a family holiday”.

Interviewer: “Very good, sir. Can I just confirm you are the child’s father with a few questions? Firstly, what is the child’s middle name?”

My husband’s family doesn’t do middle names. Mine does, so we used a traditional family middle name which he was fine with because he didn’t care either way. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten it!

Husband: “Um, I can’t remember, sorry.”

Interviewer: “Oh, okay. Well, next question, what is the child’s birth date on the passport application?” 

This is eight months after the birth. We have not yet celebrated a birthday for her, so while he knows it’s early [Month], he’s not really sure of the date. So he guesses… and he gets it wrong.

Interviewer: “Oooookaay! Final question, what is the mother’s maiden name?”

By this time, my husband is extremely flustered. It has not occurred to him that they mean his daughter’s mother — we’re still not feeling old and mature enough to be parents — so he hears the question wrong, and he knows MY mother’s maiden name, so he gives that.

That’s three out of three wrong.

The interviewer starts laughing.

Interviewer: “Well, sir. If this was a fraudulent application, you would have been coached better than that. Only a real father would get every question wrong. All good here, sir. Thank you. Enjoy your holiday!”

Since then, he has been much better with all the details.

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I Would Have Kicked Them Out The Moment They Called Me Ugly

, , , , , | Right | July 22, 2020

I work on the registers in a major supermarket. This customer comes in every Wednesday with her husband and is rude and just plain annoying. I have just finished packing all her groceries.

Me: “That will be $141.54.”

Customer: “I have money on my rewards card.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll run it through for you and we will check.”

It comes back with a zero balance on the card.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, there’s no money on here.”

Customer: “I know there’s money on there! I have enough points for $50! Give me my money off or give me money from your till!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t do that! Have you rung the rewards company and asked to redeem the points for cash to use at the register?”

Customer: “No, of course not; that’s your job, you stupid, ugly girl!”

Me: “Well, I can’t do that. Sorry, you will have to ring them and redeem.”

Customer: “Fine, you stupid girl!”

The customer leaves and I look at the next lady in line.

Next Lady: “So, can I have my rewards money?”

Me: “…”

Next Lady: “I’m joking, love!”

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Coworkers That Make You Want To Croak

, , , , , | Working | May 11, 2020

I have just worked all weekend even though I was sick because I didn’t want to ruin others’ weekends off. By Monday, I can barely talk, my chest hurts, and I even pulled a groin muscle from coughing. I call in to get my afternoon shift covered.  

My doctor takes one look at me and can see how sick I am. After taking vitals, he gives me a certificate to have two days off with orders to visit him on the third day, which is my day off anyway.

I text my manager to let her know what is going on but still ring in to let her know I texted. A coworker answers.

Me: *With a croaking voice* “Hi, [Coworker], it’s [My Name].”

Coworker: “[My Name], I heard you were sick. You know, I feel sick, too, and I still came in.” 

I’m barely able to get words out.

Me: “I just worked all weekend sick. Can you tell [Manager] that I just sent her a message because I can barely talk.”

Coworker: “FINE!” *Hangs up*

Me: “B****.”

This woman constantly calls in sick; in fact, she’s got no paid sick leave days left. I haven’t had a sick day in well over a year.

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Mismanagement Makes More Managers Mad

, , , , , | Working | April 14, 2020

Our company has brought in strict guidelines and practises, insisting that line managers inspect each store monthly. Each month it’s the same thing: the line manager visits and leaves a large list of jobs that she wants done by her next visit. The store manager usually does his own thing, ignoring the list, and doesn’t even show it to me as his second in command. If I do ask about it, I get told he’s taken it home to work out a plan of action. The line manager always visits on a Monday after I’ve had the weekend managing shift. It’s always the same thing; I get sent an email first thing on Saturday morning.

It usually says, “OMG, [Line Manager] is coming on Monday! You need to make sure you do all of these jobs,” followed by the list of jobs he was given a month ago.  

Weekends are our busiest times, so I try to get through the list as best as I can with the help of the one other staff member we have. I often work two hours past my finishing time on both Saturday and Sunday before exhaustion gets the better of me and I attempt the forty-minute drive home, desperately trying to keep awake. Every Monday, I work the afternoon shift and I always get told off.

It’s usually something like, “[Line Manager] was not happy that the list of jobs was not completed; you let me down again.”

Nothing I say or do makes any difference; he can’t understand that working on the jobs over the course of the month is a much more efficient method of getting them complete. Even telling him that I worked over four hours extra, unpaid, gets me told off as I’m not supposed to be staying back in the store on my own.

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Please Let This Be Her First Time…

, , , , , | Right | February 27, 2020

I work at a major petrol station in Australia. It’s not compulsory to pre-pay for your fuel here, so we have to authorise the fuel pump from the till. We have 35 fuel pumps, so it can get pretty complicated sometimes!

It is during the busiest period of the afternoon when I notice that every time I try to authorise the pump, the customer hangs it back up again. This happens several times. Eventually, she comes running into the store.

“The pump isn’t working! Fix it!”

“Sorry you’re having trouble. Just pick up the pump and put it inside the car and wait for a few seconds so we can authorise your fuel for you.”

“I was doing that! It’s not working!”

“Please go out there and try again. It should be working fine now.”

The customer runs back out of the store and to her car. She picks up the pump, holding it above her head for a few seconds, and finally puts it into her car. We authorise her fuel and keep watching her. I check on the screen to check how much fuel she’s pumped and was surprised to see she had none. As I expect, the customer comes back into the store frantic about filling up her car.

“It’s still not working! You said it would be fine!”

“Well, we did manage to authorise your fuel this time. Were you actually pulling the trigger on the pump?”

“What? It doesn’t just work automatically?”

I am now holding back the urge to laugh.

“No, of course not. You squeeze the handle and the fuel will pump into your car.”

Customer: “Oh.”

She runs out of the store and back to her car. She picks up the pump and finally begins pumping. When she’s done she comes into the store, pays for her fuel, and then leaves. Thinking we’ve seen the last of her, I am relieved, only to see her running back into the store again.

“There’s no fuel in my car! I just paid all this money and when I turned the car on, it still reads as empty!”

“You do know you have to wait several minutes before the fuel gauge moves, right? Unless you spilled a tank’s worth of fuel straight onto the ground, it’ll be in your car.”

She protested some more but finally left. All I could do was giggle for the rest of the shift.

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