(I am a cashier in a locally-owned, market-style grocery store. Typically, when people come in and are looking for someone, they come ask a cashier since we are easy to find. During April and May, we do a small round of hiring for summer staff. A guy comes in and tells one of the coworkers he’s here for an interview.)

Coworker: “Okay, do you know with who?”

Guy: “I don’t remember his name.”

Coworker: “Do you know what department?”

Guy: “Uh… I think food.”

Coworker: “Well, this is a grocery store.”

(My coworker took him to meet the manager that was hiring when someone told her he was the only one with interviews scheduled.)

(We have a staff vacancy advertised in the window. Two people in their early 20s come in: a guy in a torn T-shirt with the word “BROKE” in huge lettering, and a girl. The girl comes up to the counter.)

Girl: “Hi, can you tell me what the hours are like for the job vacancy, please?”

Me: “Sure. It’s a 30-hour contract, but there’s usually extra overtime available. Shifts vary from week to week, but we do need you to be available to work weekends. Do you want to leave a CV?”

Girl: “Oh, it’s actually not for me; it’s him that’s looking.” *to guy* “Babe, did you bring any CVs?”

(The guy has been on his mobile the entire time, walking around the shop, prodding things on the shelves. He doesn’t even acknowledge us.)

Guy: *on phone* “I properly f***ed up on that one, mate… Nah, he didn’t find it yet.”

Me: “Umm, okay, no problem. You can apply online if you go to our website.”

Girl: “That’s great. Is it just [Shop].com?”

Me: “That’s right; there’s a tab at the bottom that says, ‘careers.’”

(The guy is still on phone, even louder now. Other customers are staring at him.)

Guy: “You know what, bruv? You go ahead and smoke it. Might as well get it smoked, innit?”

(He holds the phone to his shoulder to mute it, turns to the girl for the first time since they came in.)

Guy: “We done, girls?”

(The girl gave me a look that says she knew how awful he was, and they left. But not before he clicked his tongue and winked at me. I rather wish he HAD left a CV, so I could have given head office a name to avoid!)

(There is a notice up in the back room for people to apply to a manager position. I am currently an associate, but I have been working at the company for a year while most other employees are brand new. I don’t want to become a manager, though, and the deadline passes with only new people applying. Two days past the deadline, the current manager pulls me aside.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], why didn’t you apply?”

Me: “Oh, I’m taking summer school and I’m worried about not being able to balance the two well.”

(She pulls me out for these talks for the next two days until she eventually convinces me I can do it. I submit my application, and two weeks later I get a phone call.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], we didn’t go with you for the manager position, but you can reapply in July.”

Me: “Oh, okay… Can I ask why? I mean, you asked me personally for two days to apply, so…”

Manager: “Well, we were worried you’d be so focused on school that you wouldn’t be able to give it your all at the store.”

Me: “Sure, that makes sense, but… I mean… when you asked me to apply, I told you I had summer school, yet you still asked me to apply.”

Manager: “Yeah, I guess I did… Oh, well, sorry about that.”

(I quit two months later because the new manager they hired who “had more time to focus on the store” ended up being a huge screw-up.)

(I work in a large complex. Two buildings are the hotel, where we sell rooms per night, but three buildings are for monthly rental, like apartments. In both cases, people check in at the hotel’s front desk. One day, an older man comes in wanting to visit a room to rent for the month. I make him a magnetic swipe key for one of the rooms so that he may go visit it. A good ten minutes later, he comes back, looking rather flustered.)

Guest: “There is no lock to put the key in!”

Me:  “What do you mean, there is no lock?”

Guest: “Just that: there is no lock in the door! There is one on the building door, which I swiped, and it worked, but on the room door there is nothing in the door to swipe the key.”

(I recall that our maintenance staff have been having issues with the locks lately, are waiting for new ones to be delivered, and have been taking locks from currently unavailable rooms and putting them on available ones so that those rooms may still be sold. I think perhaps they have taken the lock from this particular room and forgotten to alert the front desk. I apologize to the man and offer to let him visit another room, in the same building.)

Guest: “Well, is it going to work this time, or am I only going there for nothing again?”

Me: *thinking there is no way maintenance could have forgotten twice to block a room* “There should be no problem.”

(I make him a key and let him go, but he returns in less than two minutes and starts yelling at me.)

Guest: “What the f*** are you doing to me? Are you having fun with me?”

Me: “No, sir. What—”

Guest: “There is nowhere to put the key in that one, either! You take those two rooms off your list, now! Who’s your manager? I want to see him, now!”

(I explain that my manager is going to be here later tonight, and the man storms off, promising to come back. Puzzled by what the man seemed so adamant about, I call my houseman to check the two rooms to see what is going on. He comes back to me and says he got in, no problem, and that there is nothing wrong with the locks to the room. He doesn’t understand why the man said there wasn’t a lock. He stops to think one second and says:)

Houseman: “Well… it’s a different model of lock than the one on the building’s door.”

Me: “How so?”

Houseman: “Well, most of our locks are like the one on the building’s door, which requires the key card to be held at a perpendicular angle from the door, with only the magnetic stripe sliding through. The model on those rooms, though, is the one for which you have to hold the key flat against the door lock and slide the whole card down into the slit.”

(I instantly recalled what he was talking about, as I have naturally seen them myself, but I couldn’t believe anyone couldn’t figure out how to put the key in them. When I retold the story to my manager, when he came in, he laughed so hard he said it would be a pleasure to point the man’s lack of intelligence to him should he come back to see him. He never did, unfortunately.)

(I have a psychologist assigned to me at my hospital, where I am a frequent visitor and inpatient due to a chronic illness. She’s not very good at her job, at least when it comes to me; every conversation I have with her ends in frustration for me, and a completely warped assessment of my emotional and mental state for my doctor. Eventually, I get tired of it, and ask not to see her anymore, since I think she misunderstands and/or misrepresents my mental health. This is the last conversation I have with her, during a week-long hospitalisation.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but considering that I asked you not to come today, and you came anyway, and once again you haven’t really understood what I’m saying, I’m going to ask the doctors not to send you to me anymore.

Psychologist: “Oh… Well, I still have one more visit planned for the day before you leave.”

Me: “Please cancel it. I appreciate your help, but I just become too frustrated.”

Psychologist: “Well… if you change your mind, please let–

Me: “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you do, just tell one of the day nurses and—”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to.”

Psychologist: “Well, just in case you do—”

Me: “I’m not.”

Psychologist: “I know you think that now, but I’ll be here if you want to chat.”

Me: “I promise you, I won’t.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you change your mind…”

(Then, she just stood there smiling. I stared at her in disbelief until she left.)