After several years at my first professional job after college, I’m promoted to supervisor of a small group of engineers doing design and analysis of power plant equipment. I supervise the group’s daily activities but have almost no say in who is hired for or assigned to the group.

One Monday morning, I’m called into my manager’s office to be introduced to a new hire engineer assigned to my group. He’s right out of college but seems well qualified.

After about six months, he starts finding excuses for not getting his work done. He’s married with a child on the way, and it seems he needs the job. We discuss his productivity, but things just keep getting worse.

After nine months, he comes in, tells me he’s quitting, and starts gathering up his personal belongings into a briefcase that I have not seen before. The briefcase has a name tag with his name and the title “Vice President of Research” for a company with “[Family Name] Engineering” in a city about a hundred miles away. Turns out his father was the company founder and gave him the vice president job upon graduation, pending working a year in the industry.

Apparently, nine months was good enough for the father. His salary was going to be about double what I was making at that time. The idea was for him to eventually take over the company. We never heard from him again. I hope he worked for his father’s company better than he did for us.

This story is part of our Best Of November 2020 roundup!

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I have several bicycles that I maintain myself. Sometimes, I will visit my local bike store and ask the mechanics for advice on a problem or which tool to buy. The mechanics are well qualified and very helpful. It is a huge international store which also employs sales staff.

Unfortunately, a pattern develops. I ask to speak to a mechanic, and some of the sales staff tell me they are mechanics. However, they are unable to answer simple questions. It has happened several times, and I am tiring of it.

This time, I walk in carrying a bicycle wheel.

Me: “Hi. If you don’t mind me asking, are you a mechanic?”

Employee #1: “Yes.”

Me: “Great! Can you tell me which tool I need to remove the cassette from this wheel? I don’t think it’s a standard Shimano spline.”

Employee #1: “I’m not sure. Let me check the workshop.”

I follow him to the workshop.

Employee #2: “Let me try this tool… I’m sorry I’m not sure.”

Employee #1: “Do you want to leave it with us and I’ll ask [Head Mechanic] tomorrow?”

Me: “No, thank you. Wait… I asked if you were a mechanic. Which Cytech level do you have?”

Employee #1: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “Then why did you tell me you were a mechanic?”

Employee #1: “Well, basic stuff.”

I leave and return the next day. [Head Mechanic] is working. He is amazing. He can do everything a bike mechanic would ever need to do, including building wheels.

Head Mechanic: “Hey, [My Name]! How’s that bike build coming?”

Me: “Getting there! I need this cassette off, but the cassette remover doesn’t fit.”

Head Mechanic: *Lifting something off a shelf* “That’s a freehub system, but you’re holding a Shimano spline tool. You need one of these. Slide it in and turn anti-clockwise, like this. It’s £12.”

Me: “Thanks. By the way… are the sales staff entitled to call themselves mechanics?”

Head Mechanic: “No. Why?”

Me: “It’s happened a few times. I ask to speak to a mechanic because I have a complicated question. They then tell me they are a mechanic and they get confused by whatever I’m asking.”

Head Mechanic: “Really? We haven’t hired any new mechanics.”

Me: “A few sales assistants seem to think that because they can fix a puncture, they are professional mechanics. It’s also really disrespectful, because you have paid thousands for formal training. Would you tell the manager you have had a complaint?”

Head Mechanic: “Yes, sure. When did it happen?”

Me: “Yesterday. I don’t mind speaking to sales assistants if they stay within their limits. If someone who doesn’t know what they are doing works on a bike, someone could get hurt. All this because people don’t have the guts to say, ‘No, I’m not a mechanic but why don’t you try me and I’ll do my best?’”

I also complained by Facebook private message. [Head Mechanic] still knows the answer to anything I ask. I now ask for a mechanic by name, or I ask if they have completed a course in bike mechanics.

This takes place during certain health crisis restrictions. Everyone has to wear a mask, there are designated lines and distancing rules, etc.

My husband and I stop at a fresh product market to buy some strawberries. There is a sign that says, “No picking through strawberries,” which I assume means that you can’t pick through the baskets.

My husband picks a basket, careful not to touch any others, and while I collect a few other things, he looks more closely at his selection.

Several of them are moldy.

Husband: *To an employee* “I’m sorry to do this, but is it possible to give you this one back and pick a different basket? A bunch of these are moldy and you can’t tell from the top.”

Employee: “No, we have a sort of ‘you touch it you buy it’ policy.”

Husband: “But these are rotten and there’s no way to tell without picking it up.”

The employee just shrugged while putting out new baskets of berries. 

I get trying to reduce cross-contamination, but it’s not an excuse to bury old produce and trick people into buying it.

This happens to my housemate who is fairly busty. She goes to pick up a cake that she ordered. She walks into the bakery and the male worker visibly just stares at her chest.

Housemate: “I’m here to pick up a cake I ordered?”

The worker continues staring.

Housemate: “Uh… it was Black Forest. I was in here on Friday?”

Worker: “Do you have a job?”

Housemate: “Yes, I’m a [work position].”

Worker: “I’d like you to work here! You can work the front counter and do… other things…”

My housemate quickly asked for her cake again and left very quickly! We won’t be going back there for a while!

I stop in at a well-known fast food restaurant in order to get some food and coffee as I’m gearing up for an overnight shift on a Sunday. After ordering, twice, and pulling up to the window, I realize she didn’t hand me my coffee.

Me: “Oh, um, my coffee?”

Cashier: “What coffee?”

Me: “I ordered a large black coffee.”

Cashier: “Yeah, but I didn’t ring you up for it so it’s okay.”

Me: *Beat* “Oh. Okay, never mind, then.”

I didn’t have time to press the issue, so I ended up getting coffee from a gas station on a break, but how is your reaction to someone ordering something just a blithe, “Oh, I didn’t bother with that.”?

At least my food was fresh, so there was a silver lining.