Ask And Ye Shall Receive Nothing

, , , , | Working | February 6, 2018

Since I am a returning employee at our toy store, I notice things that need to be fixed more quickly, as I am used to how the managers want it. I’ll sometimes be walking by with a handful of items and ask an associate who isn’t busy to fix the plush section. It isn’t as if I am pulling them away from tasks; they look really bored.

One day a manager pulls me aside and tells me to maybe tone down on asking associates to do stuff, since I am one of them. I agree and just start working extra hard so I can finish all the tasks without any help.

I apply for a manager position after a few more months with the company, and I get rejected because the managers and supervisors notice I don’t ask for help on tasks and am thus “not a team player.” They don’t believe me when I tell them one of the managers told me I was too bossy. They tell me to take responsibility, and so I do. I take responsibility for my own mental health and future career and quit!

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Unfiltered Story #105160

, | Unfiltered | February 6, 2018

There is a small medical clinic where I live. Usually, for the walk-in patients, you get at the door very early, wait until they open it, then head for the desk where you are assigned an appointment time for the day depending on the order of arrival (usually, people behave and do not jump forward). Rarely, but sometimes, the clinic isn’t full, and going in mid-morning, you might still get a spot.

It’s about 11, and I feel I might have a feminine infection. I stop by the clinic to see if there’s place.

[secretary] “I’m sorry. There’s a new phone system in place. Now you have to call-in in the morning and leave your name and phone number. Someone will call you back with the time of your appointment.”

[me] “Well, I’m right here. Can’t you just give me a time?”

[secretary] “No, you have to call.”

[me] “Okay, fine.”

I make two steps to the side, picks-up my cellphone, take the card she had given me with the phone number and starts dialing. The secretary looks at me.

[secretary] “What are you doing?”

[me] “calling for an appointment. You said I absolutely had to call.”

[secretary] “Ugh… okay, I’ll give you one.”

I believe she suddenly realized that I would have left my info on the answering machine, that she would have listen to it, then call me back with the time… all of that while I was standing in front of her…

Wendy Wouldn’t Have Put Up With It

, , , , | Right | February 5, 2018

(I recently dyed my hair a bright copper red. It’s pretty eye-catching, and I regularly get comments about how I work for the wrong chain because I look like the Wendy’s logo. Usually I just laugh, but this guy is something else. Note: I wear a nametag.)

Customer: “Hey, is your name Wendy?”

Me: *laughs a little* “Nope, afraid not.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yup. I’m 100% positive my name is [My Name]. Did you want your sandwich toasted?”

Customer: “Oh. Well, then, you should go work at Wendy’s!”

Me: *courtesy laughing* “I’m pretty happy here, actually. Sorry, was your sandwich toasted?”

(During this exchange, the line behind him is growing longer and longer, and the guy behind him has started tapping his feet.)

Customer: “But you can’t work here. You need to work at Wendy’s!”

Me: “Well, maybe one day. But right now, I work here. I’m sorry, sir, but I need to know if your sandwich is toasted or not.”

Customer: “But your hair is so red!”

(At this point I give up and assume he doesn’t want it toasted.)

Me: “What kind of veggies would you like?”

Customer: “Oh.” *gives list of veggies he wants* “You just look like Wendy. Oh, I wanted that toasted, though.”

(I had, by this point, put on all the vegetables. The worst part was that he came in and did more or less the same thing two more times! The fourth time he came in, I hid in the back and made my coworker deal with him. He still asked where the “Wendy’s girl” was.)

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This Newest Instruction Is Getting Old

, , , , | Working | February 5, 2018

(We take pictures of the labels of some of our inventory for product tracking reasons. This happens when I am first learning how to track inventory.)

Manager: *lists some of our products*

Me: “And it’s just for those products?”

Manager: “No, do all of them.”

Me: “All of them? I thought it was only for some of them.”

Manager: “Do all of them.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know how I’m going to get to all the boxes without pulling a bunch of stuff out of the freezer.”

Manager: “Why would you need to pull anything out?”

Me: “Because there are plenty of boxes buried under boxes and I can’t see the labels.”

Manager: “Like what?!”

Me: “Most of the beef, the fries—”

Manager: “Why would you need the beef? You don’t do the beef.”

Me: “Oooookay. And the fries?”

Manager: “…or the fries. Just the ones I told you.”

Me: “So, not all of them.”

Manager: “No. Just the ones I told you about.”

(She lists them. It’s nowhere near all our inventory.)

Me: “All right. Got it. That’s what I thought. So, when you say all of them, do you mean all the boxes for those products?”

Manager: “No. Just the newest one.”

Me: “The newest one? I thought it was supposed to be the oldest one.”

Manager: “The newest one.”

Me: “Okay. So, just to clarify–“

Manager: “The newest one.”

Me: “Okay. So–“

Manager: “The newest one! The newest one!”

(I am still extremely skeptical at this point, as everything I’ve been told in the past indicates otherwise, and my manager has a habit of telling me the wrong information.)

Me: “Yes. So, if I look at the expiration date, it should be the one that expires last.”

Manager: “…”

Me: “And not the one that expires first?”

Manager: “The newest one.”

Me: “Oooookay.”

(I collect what I will need and am just about to head out the door when…)

Manager: “So, remember: it’s the next one we’re going to use.”

Me: “So, the oldest one. Got it.”

(Yes, it was the oldest one.)

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In For A Penny…

, , , , , | Right | February 5, 2018

(Working at a meat counter, I have long since come to terms with the fact that many apparently functional adults have no idea what a pound is, or a kilogram, either, for that matter, but this episode stands out in my memory. The customer looks to be about 25 or so.)

Customer: “What does 200 grams of ground chicken look like?”

Me: *puts some ground chicken in a bag and weighs it* “This is 220 grams.”

Customer: “Oh, no. I wanted pounds.”

Me: “Okay, sure. How many pounds? Two?”

Customer: “No, two hundred.”

Me: “You want 200 pounds of ground chicken.”

Customer: *with absolute conviction* “Yes.”

Me: *long pause* “Okay. Well, we don’t have that much in the store. We can probably order it in for you, but it’ll be a few days.”

Customer: *gets confused look* “What? Wait. How much is a pound?”

Me: *holds up same bag of chicken* “This is half a pound.”

Customer: “Oh! No, I’ll have two pounds, then.”

Me: “Two pounds, I can do.”

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