After losing more and more hours at my retail job, I finally bit the bullet and signed on to receive “Universal Credit”, a type of social security benefit in the UK that helps “top up” your income if it’s too low.

The snag is that you’ve got to provide evidence that you’re trying to find better work. Fair enough; I wanted a better job anyway.

After several months of searching with no luck, my job coach asked me to submit my CV and some example cover letters so they could provide hints and tips to help increase my chances of finding work.

I uploaded the requested documents to the online portal, and less than an hour later, I got a notification that my job coach had set up an appointment for me the very next day alongside a stern warning that if I did not attend, my benefits would be withdrawn.

The next day, when I arrived at the job centre and stepped inside, I was gestured toward a meeting room where my job coach was already sitting.

Job Coach: “So, we’ve asked you in today to ask you about this CV you sent in for review.”

Me: “I assumed I’d just get feedback on [Website] about that. This meeting surprised me.”

Job Coach: “You are aware that defrauding the Department for Work and Pensions is a serious offence, right?”

I was stunned for a moment and tried to find my words.

Job Coach: “You’re meant to inform us when you find work, even if it’s a self-employed opportunity.”

Me: “I only have the job at [Supermarket], though.”

[Job Coach] pulled out a printed copy of the CV I’d sent in and slid it across the table between us.

Job Coach: “The CV you sent in indicates that you’re the director of a mining firm. Care to explain yourself?”

Me: “Director… what?”

It then dawned on me as I turned to the last page of the CV where it did, indeed, list me as the director of a mining firm.

Me: “You mean this page?”

Job Coach: “Yes. This should have been declared to us right away. You are aware that you’ll have to pay back all the money you have been given because of this, right?”

I started laughing as [Job Coach] furrowed her brow.

Me: “Those jobs aren’t real.”

I turned the paper to face her and started pointing at the page.

Me: “You’ll also find that it lists me as a Diplomat, a Mining Foreman, and a Combat Pilot, and it makes frequent references to flying spaceships.”

An awkward silence followed before I continued.

Me: “This CV was the most recent one I sent, when I applied for a job with [Game Developer] as a GM for their game, [Massively Multiplayer Online Game]. They like people talking about their experiences in-game as part of their application, and I thought it would help my CV stand out if I included a mini-CV for my character in the game.”

A moment more of silence passed before [Job Coach] stood and gestured out the door.

Job Coach: “This meeting is concluded. We’ll arrange another meeting in a couple of weeks to check on your job application progress.”

By the time I got home, I had a notice on my [Website] page telling me that I had been assigned a new job coach.

Fortunately, this time, I got one with a sense of humour.

A middle-aged woman enters the store, looking at our movie selection. She comes over to me.

Customer: “My husband likes the one with the spaceships.”

Me: “Okay? Can you tell me a little more?”

Customer: “It’s like Star… something. It has spaceships.”

Me: “Star Trek? Star Wars?”

Customer: “Yes, that’s it!”

Me: “No, those are two different things. Do you know any more about which one he likes? Is it older or newer? A movie or a TV show? Does it have guns or glowing swords?”

Customer: “I told you, it has spaceships!”

Me: “They both do, ma’am. Perhaps if you asked him—”

Customer: “No! It’s a Christmas gift! I can’t ask him!”

Me: “Well then, I would recommend picking one and hoping for the best.”

Customer: “Which one is better? Star Trek or Star Wars?”

Me: “Ma’am, they’ve been arguing over that for decades.”

Customer: “Well, can’t you ask them?” 

I showed her copies of both the “Star Wars” movie box set (six of them at the time) and the “Star Trek” TV series on DVD. She said neither was right and went on her way. Maybe it was “Stargate”?

I run an anime/geek store, and we are really lenient with pre-orders. We used to not require a deposit to make an order, and in case you needed more time to pick up an item, all you had to do was ask. We could also hold the items for as long as needed in our storage if you wanted to gather a lot of items so you could save on trips or shipping.

Back in February, Funko released a special edition figure of Naruto Hokage. This one in particular had a one-in-six Chase variant (a rare variant of a common figure, with a slightly different design) that reached a resale value of up to $130. But the way I do pre-orders is that if you order six of the same piece, you are guaranteed a Chase. But if you only order one, you still get a one-in-six chance of getting the Chase. I just mix them up in random boxes and do a public stream raffle on social media, so everyone knows who won the Chase, and I get good publicity.

A client ordered just one and left $5 as a deposit; the piece was $15. This particular client won the raffle (along with several other clients), but he wasn’t that interested in picking it up or paying for the rest of it. I sent him a message letting him know that he had won the special variant and had a week to pay for it or he would lose his pre-order. At first, he was angry.

Client: “I want the normal version, not this yellow thing!”

Me: “We can change it if you want, but this one is far more valuable.”

He stepped away from the phone for a moment and then came back.

Client: “I asked my son, and he wants it anyway. But I need more time to pay.”

We gave him one more week. Then he asked for another week. And another.

Then, we had to close the store for a time — you know, for 2020 reasons. We told the client that we had to close, but we could still schedule an appointment to give him his item or wait until the worst passed. He never answered.

Eventually, we were able to reopen the store with regulations in place. We sent him another message telling him we could save the figure for as long as needed in these strange times. He still didn’t answer the messages, but eventually, he arrived at the store and demanded his money back, citing how we were in the middle of what was going on (fair) and he couldn’t waste money on frivolous plastic (also fair).

Me: “Are you sure? This figure is selling for nearly $150, and you just have to pay the retail price: $10 more.” *Shows him the current selling price*

Client: “I’m sure you’ve just made up those numbers. I ordered the figure for my son, but he doesn’t deserve it. I just want — no, I demand my money back!”

Me: “Fine, I’ll give you your money back. Also, I’ll just put this figure out for sale.”

Client: “Whatever, just give me my money.”

I made a point to grab a sticky note (I use them to put prices on items to avoid damaging the box), write in big, black letters, “$90 bucks, last one”, and put it on the glass window that leads to the street. I could see the client watching while I did this.

While my employee was giving the client his five bucks back and giving him a receipt, a young man knocked on the door. Per [health crisis] practices, I gave him some cleaning goo, checked his temperature, and let him in. He immediately asked to buy the Naruto CHASE figure. The angry client’s eyes went wide open over his mask as I picked up the figure and guided the young man to the desk, where he handed me the bills one by one.

The angry man stood there shocked as the younger man gushed about how hard that figure was to get and how he was getting it for half the price other places were asking for — and in such perfect condition, too. I couldn’t have had a better reaction even if I’d paid him for it!

The young man completed his purchase and left as fast as he’d come in. The angry man looked at me, almost as if accusing me of taking advantage of him.

Me: “Well, you got your money back. I’m happy that you are happy. If you need anything else, please let me know, and stay safe out there.”

The man didn’t have much else to say and just left. It was kind of a small and silly thing for me to feel good about, but 2020 hit us so hard that any unexpected profit was cause for celebration, so we celebrated that good sale with some (instant) ramen, Naruto style.

“Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix” has just come out. It’s the largest of the books, running over 750 pages. A frazzled-looking woman approaches me.

Customer: “This is ridiculous! This book is supposed to be for children!”

Me: “It is, ma’am.”

Customer: “But look at it! It’s huge!“

Me: “It’s a long book, but it doesn’t contain anything unsuitable for children if they’ve already enjoyed the series so far.”

Customer: “But… my kids already read too much! They’re always stuck at home, reading, reading, reading! I told them they could only read one book this summer, and you’ve gone and f****** given me a book that will take them all f****** summer to read!”

Me: “Oh… Well, most parents would be happy to have kids so into reading.”

Customer: “But they’re boys! I didn’t raise them to be little nerdy wizards! This is all your fault!”

She still — begrudgingly — purchased two copies of the book, grumbling for the whole transaction about how kids should be out playing.

The British newspaper that my parents get has had many critics over the years. However, there are two instances that have made me dislike them, long before I learned of their more common criticisms. This story is about one of these occasions.

The year was 1994, I had graduated from University, and I was back living with my parents. I was also looking forward to the new “Star Trek” film, “Generations”. As the November release date approached, I did everything I possibly could to avoid spoilers. The Internet was around then, but as I was no longer at University, I had no access, so all those message boards were not a problem for me.

Trailers, TV, and radio promotions were a bit more tricky, so depending on the situation, I would change channels, plug my ears, or leave the room. With newspapers, if I caught a glimpse of anything at all Trekkie, I would close my eyes and turn the page. It helped that these would have big headlines, boldly showing what the article was about.

I was really pleased with myself that it was a week or so before the premiere and I knew nothing about the film other than it having cast from “The Original Series” and “Next Generation”. 

And so, that morning, I did my usual breakfast routine, munching my cereal and flicking through the paper to the puzzle section. As always, I start with their quick quiz.

Question #1: “What is the name of the actor from A Clockwork Orange who kills Captain Kirk in the new Star Trek film?”

Ghuy’cha’!