A Rather Queer Interview Technique

, , , , , , , | Working | December 4, 2019

(I’ve just started a new job for a company that represents various progressive non-profit groups. The two clients our office oversees are an environmental organization and an LGBT organization. Although I’ve had other positions where I’ve overseen staff before, I need to be trained on how the company conducts interviews by a coworker who has been there for a while. The coworker training me during this interview happens to be a lesbian. We have just finished basic work history questions with this applicant.)

Coworker: “We are currently working on behalf of [Environmental Organization] and [LGBT Organization]. We have enough openings right now to assign you to your preferred group but may need you to work with the other if the need arises.”

Applicant: “Well, I’d love to work on [Environmental Organization]. I’m not all that cool with that queer stuff.”

Coworker: “Well…”

Applicant: “It’s like, no one made them be gay; that was their decision, which is fine and all, but that doesn’t mean you get special rights, you know?”

Coworker: “Um…”

Applicant: “They think they deserve to marry each other and all, but like, if I get married that makes my marriage mean less, you know? Plus, if they really want benefits so bad or whatever, then a queer guy should just marry, like, a queer chick or something, right?”

(I notice my coworker is biting her lip, ready to go off on the guy, so I step in.)

Me: “Well, that’s all the questions I think we have. We will be in touch if we decide to bring you on.”

Applicant: “Great! I really look forward to working here. This place seems great!”

(My coworker thanked me afterward for stepping in at that point as she likely couldn’t have handled it professionally. How that guy still seemed to think he was going to get hired was beyond either of us.)

1 Thumbs

They Ended Up Spending Quality Time Together After All

, , , , , , | Legal | December 4, 2019

(I am picking up some stuff for Christmas dinner with my family, looking like a cross between a college student and hipster, when a rather rude man approaches me.)

Rude Man: “Hey, hot momma, where you been hiding?”

Me: *instantly on guard* “Nowhere that concerns you. Excuse me, please.”

Rude Man: *doing his best to block my exit* “Where you think you’re going? Here I am being a nice guy, and you just blow me off!”

Me: “I apologize; I am in a bit of a hurry and not feeling up to chatting with a strange man at the store. I need to get past you so I can check out and get home to my family. Please step aside, now.”

(I admit, the word “now” came out with more force than I intended. The man is over a foot taller than me, blocking me into a very small space, and causing me to feel very crowded. I have PTSD from some pretty nasty events I have experienced at work, and I dislike being blocked off, so my “work” personality is creeping out. As a brief backstory, I work in a maximum-security prison, but I do not look like it in any way when I am not at work. I purposely make sure I look feminine and am friendly when off-the-clock as it takes a toll to always be the tough guy. Unfortunately, that, coupled with the fact I look barely 18, makes me be underestimated by basically everyone. At this point, the man starts to puff up; he shifts his stance to be more aggressive and “intimidating.”)

Rude Man: *while leaning towards me* “You need to change your tone, little lady, or a man might have to step up and change it for you.”

Me: *internally sighing from frustration* “Bigger and scarier men than you have tried; you are not even phasing me at this point. Step aside, and let me get home to my family. I am not about to deal with this nonsense when I am off the clock.”

Rude Man: *clenching his fists and acting like he is about to either grab at me or swing* “I am not done talking to you yet!”

(He started to raise his voice and started swearing at me and threatening me. This allowed the clerk at the register nearby to realize that there was a person being blocked by this troll, and he and another male employee came over and helped to defuse the situation, allowing me to get to the register and out of the store. I promptly forgot about this man shortly after regaling my family with the story while popping some popcorn for our movie bash that night. What brings me to write this story now is that a few hours ago, I was processing some new intakes from our diagnostic facility and came across one with a 15- to 50-year sentence, recently convicted, and already with a staff-assault under his belt and pending in the court system, that looked oddly familiar. When I collected him from intake to restrain and escort him to our segregation unit, he got a deer-in-headlights look before saying, “S***, I f***** up now.” It was the guy from the store, and turns out he has a few assault charges now.)

1 Thumbs

Cycling The Recycling Signs

, , , , , , | Right | December 2, 2019

I was at a food court in a mall, sitting fairly close to the trash cans. Next to the trash cans, there were a couple of recycling bins, one for bottles and one for cans. As I was watching, a woman walked up and dropped her bottle into the bin marked for cans. There was a clinking as the bottle hit metal, and I could see her realize that she’d just dropped the bottle into the wrong bin.

After pausing for a moment, she then reached down and pulled the lids off both bins. I thought maybe she was planning to pull out her bottle and put it in the right container, but instead, she swapped the two lids, placing the lid marked for bottles on the container for cans, and vice versa. She then turned around and spotted me watching. She quickly looked away and hurried off.

I ended up walking over and switching the lids back, but I really have to wonder how you can get so stubborn that you feel the need to swap the lids on recycling bins to pretend that you are “retroactively right” in which bin you dropped your trash into.

1 Thumbs

This Evening Turned Out To Be A Waist

, , , , , , , | Working | December 2, 2019

(My husband and I are out for the evening having a drink and a bite. As we order our drinks and pizza, we give the server our card to keep the tab open, and she sticks it in her pants — not her pocket, but inside her pants — as she walks away.)

Me: “Excuse me, but did you stick my card into your pants?”

Server: *looks at me oddly* “Yeah… it’s just the waistband.”

Me: “That’s incredibly unhygienic. Please, can you close our tab? We do not want to stay.”

(The server walks away and starts talking to another server, pointing at us. She comes back and throws down the bill.)

Server: “I sanitized it for you.” *walks away*

(After a fifteen-minute wait, I ask when the pizza is ready to go.)

Server: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Can you check if it’s twenty minutes, an hour…”

Server: “No. I will not serve a b**** like you.”

Me: “Ma’am, I was not rude; I just don’t like that you keep putting your hand into your pants and serving people.”

Server: “I’m refunding the pizza; you can leave.”

Me: “I would like to speak to your manager.”

(The manager came over with a refund for the pizza. I explained to him that the only reason I asked for him was because the server had sworn at me because I did not want to be served by someone sticking their hand and other items in their pants during work. The manager refused to give me a receipt of the refund and told me to leave. This is why locals stick to dive bars!)

1 Thumbs

Two Jobs, Zero Money, One Act Of Kindness  

, , , , , , | Working | December 2, 2019

(I often go to a surplus store. Every time I’m there, I see a woman who always looks sad as she’s giving away her samples. We talk and she tells me about the problems she has and I listen because I know what it’s like to have troubles at home and just need to vent. This particular day she is talking about her financial problems.)

Me: “I know how hard it is to be working two jobs and still be broke. Here, take this.”

(I hand her five dollars, since I don’t have very much, either.)

Worker: “Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

Me: “Please? Please take it.”

Worker: “No, no.”

(I keep pleading until she takes it.)

Worker: “You know you don’t have to do this.”

Me: “You’re right, I don’t. But we all can use a little something.”

(The woman actually cried and I had to hold back tears as I hugged her and told her to stay strong. I felt really good afterward.)

1 Thumbs