CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Assault

I work for a government call centre that deals with Criminal Records Checks. Normally, this is fairly easy, but occasionally, we get some… unpleasant people on the phones. On this occasion, it is someone’s mother who calls.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Call Centre]; how can I help today?”

Customer: “I want to speak to a manager.”

This is never a good start, but we have to find out details before we can get a manager on the line.

Me: “Okay, we can look into that for you. Do you have a customer reference number?”

Caller: “No, this is about my son!”

Me: “Right, is your son there at the moment?”

Caller: “Of course not. What does that have to do with anything?”

Because of the details we deal with, this means that we literally can’t tell her anything. Without the applicant there to pass security questions, we literally can’t enter a file.

Me: “Okay, I’m afraid that does mean I won’t be able to look up any files for you, as we won’t be able to pass security.”

Caller: “All I want to know is why my son’s conviction for sexual assault keeps coming up on his check.”

There is a moment of silence as I try to process what I’ve just heard.

Me: “Erm… well, that is the kind of information that comes up on a check. What kind of job is he apply—”

Caller: “He’s trying to become a teacher, and this is ruining his chance at a career! I want this taken off his record right now!”

The department I work for doesn’t even control the content of records; we literally just run checks and this is the sort of information that would never be removed in the first place.

Me: “Okay, that wouldn’t really be possible due to the nature of the conviction. How old was your son when he received the conviction?”

Caller: “Twenty-five. It was nearly two years ago now.”

Me: “Right, well, all conviction information is actually held by the police, not ourselves.”

Caller: “It’s just ridiculous. All he did was touch up some stupid girl in a nightclub, and she went to the police! He didn’t mean anything by it!”

My face is in my hands at this point as I listen to these stunning leaps of logic.

Caller: “Now, every time he applies for a teaching job, it comes up on there! It’s completely ruining his life.”

One of the advantages of this job is that I am not necessarily obliged to tolerate this level of nonsense, provided I stayed polite. As my patience has worn pretty thin, I figure it is time to advise this lady of the situation.

Me: “Okay, ma’am, well, whilst I can’t go into specifics, one thing I can tell you is that sexual assault offences will never be deleted from someone’s record, and whilst they do not ban your son from jobs, his employers — especially schools — are entitled to see that information.”

Caller: “Well, I think it’s absolutely ridiculous, and I’ll be putting in a complaint. It’s not like it was a real sexual assault; he didn’t penetrate her!”

She hung up at this point, and I began to consider alcoholism as a course of action. Fortunately, calls like this were few and far between!

I have plenty of stories about job interviewers not reading the “handbook” about job interviews, but this one still annoys me even years later. It’s all well and good for experts to throw advice at job candidates regarding how to prepare, act, and even dress for interviews, but if the other side of the equation doesn’t follow the same standards or procedures, then they are wasting your time — and potentially missing out on good staff, too.

The company I worked for at the time was going to be shut down. This left me looking for a new job, and my particular engineering specialty rather limited the range of companies that might employ me. I was invited for an interview with [Company]. It was about 200 miles from where I was living at the time, but it was also a major player in my industry. The interview was scheduled for first thing in the morning, so I drove there the day before, spent the night in a B&B, and then attended the interview the next day.

The interview itself was pretty straightforward. I’d had plenty of interviews before then (even more since), and this one was plain vanilla. They explained how the job was a field support engineering role that included a rolling call-out system where one week in four I would be on-call twenty-four-seven. This was not quite what I was looking for and made me a little uncertain, but I needed a job and couldn’t be too fussy. Then, something happened to push me right over to “You can stick your job where the sun don’t shine” territory.

Most of the interview panel was smartly dressed in shirts and ties, and I personally was wearing a business suit, but there was this one guy in a T-shirt and jeans with a mop of unkempt hair. He didn’t say much for most of the interview; he just slouched there in his chair looking bored. I don’t quite remember what his role was — senior engineer, I think — but he looked and sounded like a stereotypical nerd, and I say that as a professional nerd myself. Unfortunately, he also had a certain attitude, like having to be involved with something as pedestrian as a job interview was somehow beneath him and a waste of his intellect.

In my CV (aka resume), I naturally include the various training courses I had attended and certificates I had achieved, and a couple of those dealt with mobile phone technologies. I hadn’t worked in that area for some years, and this company didn’t use mobile phone technology at all anyway, so I had not revised that particular topic, focusing instead on the technologies that they did use and manufacture. My belief is that including all the things I had done over the years demonstrated a well-rounded experience and how I had been able to adapt and learn new subjects beyond my original degree as required.

We were nearing the end of the interview when this scruffy-looking guy asked a really obscure question about mobile phone tech. I couldn’t remember what the answer was and honestly said so, pointing out that I hadn’t revised that particular subject as it wasn’t relevant to the job spec they had supplied. He responded that I shouldn’t have even put it in my CV if I didn’t expect to be quizzed on the topic, leaning back in his chair with a smug look on his face. Any doubt that I might have had suddenly evaporated, and I knew that I really didn’t want to work in this place.

Now, this guy has no idea how much time and effort I spent working in that area of engineering or how I attained that qualification. As far as I am concerned, I fully earned the right to put that entry onto my CV, and if he wanted to be a complete smart-a**e coming up with a question just to trip me up, then that said far more about him than me.

It also occurred to me that if it had gotten the job, then this clown would probably have been my immediate supervisor. Oh, joy.

With hindsight, I should have given them feedback there and then that if this was the best example of their management and how they treated staff, then they were not really selling the job. But when you’re young and frankly desperate for work, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of anyone.

I work as a teacher in a small college. I am talking to a new student, explaining the front sheets that they need to place at the start of every piece of work they hand in.

Me: “You just need to create a front sheet for the homework.”

The student seems puzzled for a second.

Student: “Sorry, what was that?”

Me: “You need to type up a front sheet for every piece of homework that you hand in.”

Student: *Incredulously* “A front sheet? What’s a front sheet?”

Me: “It’s the procedure. But you can’t hand in your work unless you write one.”

Student: “This is stupid. I refuse to do something so ridiculous!”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, but your work won’t be marked unless you write one. You can ask [Student’s Special Needs Helper] if you need a template.”

Student: “But why do you need one? It seems arbitrary.”

Me: *Shaking my head* “It’s not arbitrary.”

Student: “It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. We’re not associated with them in any way. We’re in Somerset.”

I am confused by that last comment, but I need to walk away.

As I walk off, I hear the student muttering:

Student: “Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”

Later that day, I tried to find [Student]’s helper when I heard that [Student] was spending a lot of time at the computer. From what the helper told me, [Student] had already completed her homework but said that she needed time with her template. I found this silly as there were only a few alterations they needed to make to the front sheets; there were boxes already created for them to write in. But this girl had taken several extra minutes typing up her front sheet.

When I came to look, I saw that she had written an extra copy of the homework… in FRENCH. She came from a Thames Valley area and hadn’t understood my thick Somerset accent, so she thought that I was asking for every piece of work that we did to be translated into French.

At one point, I was appointed as a trainer for a nationwide banking company call center. It was my job to train new starters on the phones and ensure they were ready and capable of doing the job. I had known one of the other new trainers previously when I worked on the phones. We had always gotten along okay and never had an issue.

Upon starting the new role, however, her demeanor and attitude toward me completely changed! She seemed more hostile toward me than before. Frequently, she would criticize or contradict the advice or feedback I gave the new starters, even when it was 100% correct. She was frequently commenting that my approach to training was wrong and always appeared annoyed and frustrated with me. I tried speaking to her about it, but she just brushed me off or told me she was too busy to speak!

The lead trainer even noticed her attitude, and from what I can gather, he told her to dial back the attitude several times, but she wouldn’t advise him what the problem was. She left for another role within the company six months later, leaving me slightly relieved that she was gone and that there was far less hostility in the workplace.

It was only after she left that I found out the actual reason she was so negative toward me.

One day, I was chatting with some colleagues and we discussed [Trainer] leaving.

Me: “It was really strange working with her. When we both started as trainers, she suddenly hated me for no reason! I have no idea what the h*** happened; we always got along before.”

Colleague: *Sighs* “Yeah… That wasn’t your fault, though!”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Colleague: “Apparently, she was really pissed off at you because you started a week before she did!”

Me: “What? That’s it?!”

Colleague: “Yup. She felt she deserved to start first for some reason, and it pissed her off, and she took it really personally!”

Me: “You’ve got to be kidding me. All that attitude over that!”

Colleague: *Laughs* “Don’t worry. We told her it was a really stupid reason to be angry, but she held onto that grudge like the plague! Sorry, mate. She was petty as f*** at times!”

It baffled me how a person could be so rude and unprofessional over such a dumb thing. My training sessions went a lot smoother after she left.

I just read this story and was inspired to share my own.

I’m homeless. I’m also a nonpractising alcoholic. I’d been on the streets for about five months and had saved up quite a bit of cash at this point. I bought myself a portable speaker and decided, since I’d been good, to get a bottle of red wine.

People give me money on the street. I never ask for it or beg; people just hand you money and insist you take it. I felt a little bad that these people were trying to help me and I was now buying wine, so I decided to find somewhere waaay out of the public eye. 

That was a little hidden area at the end of a giant car park on the back of an industrial estate. This happened on two separate occasions. 

A man approached me.

Man: “All right, mate? You sleeping rough?”

Me: “Yeah, man, for quite a while now.”

He pulled out a £10 note and tried to hand it to me.

Me: “Erhhh, I’m drinking alcohol. I don’t want to take your money if you think I’ll spend it on more booze.”

Man: “It’s okay. I was homeless for two years; I know how it is. Take the ten and enjoy your wine. Really. Take it.”

On another occasion, in the same spot, an old lady approached me.

Old Lady: “Hi! I saw you when I was driving past. What are you doing out here in the cold?!”

Me: “Oh, I’m drinking alcohol. I don’t usually drink but didn’t want to be seen by people that give me cash and look out for me.”

Old Lady: “Oh… well, erhh, I saw you when I was going past, and I drove to [Bakery] and got you some food and this coffee, and here’s a fiver.”

I’ll throw in a bonus one for fun, too.

I don’t drink or do drugs so, naturally, I end up saving quite a bit of cash. I’ll never get used to hearing, “You’re not homeless! You own a phone/shoes/clothes/a Gameboy/a speaker/etc.” 

Yes, I don’t do drugs or drink, sir. 

“WHY?! You’re homeless! You’re supposed to drink and do drugs!”

God, the NERVE of SOME people.