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Actions Have Consequences?! WHAT?!

, , , , , , | Working | December 3, 2021

I was due to emigrate, but unfortunately, things were delayed. After a while, with money tight, I took a temporary job, any job I could find. It was particularly hard to find part-time work as no one wanted to hire an engineering manager to stack shelves or flip burgers.

But I found a supermarket nearby and got the job.

I’m pretty used to working hard in every job I do, so I did the same in this role. I was the first one there and the last one out. I took any job and task just to keep busy. I wasn’t trying to impress; it’s just the person I am.

I got a lot of hate from my coworkers; they saw me as a suck-up and a try-hard, no matter how much I tried to explain. But truly, I didn’t care what they said. In a month or two, I would be gone; they could hate me if they wanted for a while.

On the other hand, the management loved me; I didn’t call in sick, I worked without complaint, and I did as many hours as I could. In turn, I got the first pick on hours which, again, didn’t make me popular. 

Coworker: “Oh, I see someone got the weekend shift again.”

I ignore him.

Coworker: “Why is that, huh? Huh, bootlicker?”

Me: “Oh, talking to me? Well, if I had to guess, don’t be a massive screw-up who makes the same mistakes day in, day out.”

Coworker: “Mr. Perfect doesn’t make mistakes? Oh, why can’t we all be like Mr. Perfect?”

Me: “You put the stock in the right aisle; it’s not rocket science. How you manage to screw it up so often is beyond me.”

One of the managers walks in behind [Coworker]. I shut up. [Coworker] doesn’t.

Coworker: “Oh, so easy, that’s why you couldn’t do your own job? Why is it they fired you from your fancy engineering job?”

Manager: “[Coworker]!”

Coworker: “Some dumba** comes down here and sucks the d**k of these f***y, stupid, idiot managers.”

Manager: “[Coworker]!”

Coworker: *Finally turning around* “What? Oh, look who’s getting in trouble again!”

[Coworker] was led away; he didn’t return. With [Coworker] gone, the atmosphere changed, and suddenly, everyone was a lot friendlier. I made a few friends before I left. It’s amazing what one person can do to make life so difficult.

How To Floor A Racist

, , , | Right | December 2, 2021

I am organizing the installation of flooring for an older customer.

Customer: “I don’t want any black men to install my flooring.”

Me: *After a pause* “We don’t select which individuals exactly will install the floor; you’ll get who you get.”

She had a fit about it, demanded white installers, and asked to speak to my manager.

I’m so glad she did because my manager is a real big black dude with a black-sounding name.

Turns out she didn’t want to speak to the manager after all.

She Will Need To Choose Her Next Phone Call Very Carefully

, , , , , | Right | December 2, 2021

I work for a phone company in a call center. We are in training for a new scope of service, and part of that training involves listening to some of those calls that “may be recorded for training purposes.”

In this recording, a woman calls us in a fury. She has discovered that her son has replaced her number on his “five favorite numbers” list with the contact information of an unknown female.

Caller: “You need to change it back!”

Agent: “I am sorry, ma’am, but we legally cannot do that. It’s not your phone and he made the change intentionally.”

The woman flips out, screaming and shouting.

Caller: “You are crooked! This is so unfair!”

We then realise that the caller is calling from the store in her local mall. After about five minutes of rage, we hear the following exchange.

Serious Authority Voice: “Ma’am, if you can’t calm down, you’re going to have to leave the store.”

Caller: *Mostly incoherent raging* “I will not calm down! They’re cheating me!”

Serious Authority Voice: “Okay, ma’am, you’re under arrest.”

Caller: “I’m what?”

Serious Authority Voice: “You’re under arrest, ma’am, for [something muffled and unintelligible].”

This final declaration is followed by the sound of a mobile phone clattering to the floor/countertop, from where the salesperson retrieves it:

Salesperson: “Uh… yeah, sorry about that. I don’t think you have to worry about this anymore. She just got arrested.”

Nothing Subtle About This One

, , , , | Working | December 2, 2021

This story takes place during the end of my tenure with a game store chain, after I’ve settled into a familiar groove of thirteen- to fifteen-hour shifts, six days a week — also known as “absentee coworker syndrome”. I’ve also gotten a chance to get to know all the regular customers.

One of my regulars is in the store checking on the stock of our Nintendo Wii units, wanting to know when we’ll get more, etc. The guy easily drops $300 a week in my store and has two adorable, well-behaved kids, so we’re on fantastic terms.

Unfortunately, our district manager is visiting our store and brought her friend [District Manager #2] with her for advice on how to run our store.

It’s worth noting one more fact. I am the sole white employee at this store. The neighborhood in question is predominantly filled with those of darker complexion than myself (African, Latino, etc). Both of the district managers in my store are, you guessed it, whiter than new-fallen snow.

I’m chatting up my regular when I get pulled over by the district managers to a corner out of earshot, where the following exchange takes place.

District Manager #1: “What the h*** do you think you’re doing?!”

Me: “Um, my job? What do you mean? Did I do something wrong? He already has the Premium Membership card…”

District Manager #2: “Not that. Why’d you tell him when you’re getting more Wii consoles?”

Me: “Because he asked? I don’t get it.”

District Manager #1: “We don’t give that information out to people like that!”

District Manager #2: “Exactly. When you give them that kind of information, you either get robbed or you get more of them. That’s not the image we’re trying to cultivate here.”

District Manager #1: “Yeah, we’re trying to bring in more… profitable clientele.”

Me: “I don’t… I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘them’?”

District Manager #1 & #2: *In unison* “Blacks.”

District Manager #2: “We want bleach-white soccer moms, not a bunch of sooty street rats.”

My eyes must’ve popped out of their sockets in horror at what they just said, because my district manager immediately begins trying to backpedal.

District Manager #1: “What he means is that middle-class people tend to spend more money.”

The incredibly racist conversation continued for a few minutes before I promptly excused myself back to my store and helped my customers. Still, that little bit pretty much eroded any respect I had for Senior Management. 

Luckily, the parent company — which controlled two video chains and my game chain — went belly-up a month later, and both district managers lost their jobs overnight.

Me? I went on to a data center internship that paid more and was a ton of fun.

Something, Something, Beggars, Choosers…

, , , , , , , | Working | December 1, 2021

[Coworker] has been complaining about selling his house for months. It’s a little rundown two-bed in the middle of nowhere. From what I saw in the photos, it looks way overpriced. He has mentioned that all the offers have been less than what he wants, and he isn’t going to take less than the maximum the estate agent said it could (possibly) get.

Me: “Morning, [Coworker], you all right?”

Coworker: “Yeah, although I’m sick of these buyers wasting my time.”

Me: “Oh, yeah, I forgot you left early the other day. Did it not go well?”

Coworker: “Another offer below the asking. I don’t know why they waste my time.”

Me: “Do you think that the price might be a little high if everyone is offering less? I mean, due to the market at the moment.”

Coworker: “I was told that the house was worth up to [high price] and that’s what I want!”

Me: “Fair enough.”

I think, “Don’t moan all the time, then.”

Coworker: “I’m going to put in a cheap kitchen this weekend. Do you have any tools?”

Me: “Not for kitchens, sorry. I didn’t realise it needed a new kitchen. Are you doing it yourself?”

Coworker: “Well, [TV Show] said it could increase the value of the house. And they fitted a kitchen in an afternoon.”

Me: “Okay, wow. Well, good luck.”

I eventually found out that he fitted the cheapest kitchen he could find, and he didn’t do a good job of it, either. Another six months and he finally sold for even less than the offers he’d received before. Of course, this was all the buyer’s fault somehow.