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They Didn’t Hire Him For His Friendly Attitude

, , , , , | Working | September 28, 2021

It’s rather difficult to get hired for this particular job. I personally was interviewed twice and had to do some detailed IT-based tests to gauge my actual knowledge and skills. I then had to spend a month in rigorous training before being allowed to officially join the team.

Our team recently hired a new agent to help assist with customers experiencing technical difficulties with their service. Within the FIRST WEEK of joining us, my coworker with whom I was very good friends showed me an email this guy sent to her.

New Agent: “Dude, they sent me one of your tickets to work on, and I don’t know what the h*** they were thinking when they hired you.”

He proceeded to point out something he thought said coworker did incorrectly but was actually correct.

New Agent: “I then did a query for tickets you did… Dude, on ticket #123 you put down that the guy lives in Kansas City, Missouri. WAKE UP! Kansas City, Missouri?! How about Kansas City, Kansas? Are you walking around in a dream world? Then, on ticket #321…”

He pointed out another “mistake” that was actually correct.

New Agent: “Your tickets are a joke and I have no idea how you even have a job here. Maybe if you would focus more on WORK than your hair and makeup and boyfriend at home, you would understand how the system works. Do not EVER touch any of my tickets — EVER!”

Apparently, this guy didn’t query enough about this particular coworker, or he would have discovered that she also just so happened to be one of the floor managers who had been promoted to the position two weeks earlier. Not that it would have mattered, anyway, if she wasn’t.

Unsurprisingly, the next day, his locker was cleaned out and his name was whited out from the employee roster.

Not Fitting The Rules To A T (Shirt)

, , , , , , | Related | September 27, 2021

I grew up in a conservative Baptist family and dealt with the usual clothing rules: only one-piece bathing suits, no skirts above the knee, and all my shirts were just slightly too large. My mom referred to shirts that fit me properly as “skintight”. Once I left home, I loosened up a lot on what I wore. Nothing was particularly revealing, but it was all much more flattering on me. My mom occasionally felt the need to comment on my clothing choices, but the last time she did it was possibly the silliest criticism I had heard from her.

I was wearing a V-neck T-shirt and had to bend over to pick something up from the floor. Mom instantly had something to say.

Mom: “You know, I can almost see cleavage when you do that.”

Me: “But you can’t actually see cleavage.”

Mom: “I can see enough. V-neck T-shirts are too low-cut. That’s why I never let you wear them.”

Before I can answer, my dad pipes up in a frustrated voice.

Dad: “[Mom], you wore hot pants and halter tops when we were dating.”

My mom sputtered something about, “Well, that’s different,” but she couldn’t think of a comeback. She has never commented on my clothes since.

That’s One Way To Throw The Book At Him

, , , , , , | Working | September 25, 2021

I worked at this bookstore for over ten years. I loved it, honestly, but when I got an offer for a better job, I took it without any questions. My bosses and fellow coworkers were really happy for me, and since I still shop there weekly, they still see me.

I bought several books a few weeks ago, and when I went to read one of them, it was completely blank. The first few pages were printed but the rest looked like the printer ran out of ink.

I took it back to the store to just exchange it. The store has a policy that if it’s something like that, they can exchange it for free as long as it’s within a month of the receipt. I stood in line and let the cashier know what I needed to do. He was new, and instead of radioing to a manager to let them know what was going on, he told me that he couldn’t return a book in that condition.

I told him, politely, that he could and that it was part of the publishing return clause.

Employee: “This is in an unsellable condition.”

Me: “Right, it’s a publisher’s mistake, so you can exchange it for one that has all the printing and you guys will just return this book to the publisher and they will get you a replacement.”

Employee: “We can’t do that.”

Me: “Yeah, you can, and you will.”

Employee: “I am refusing you service! You need to get out of here now.”

Me: “Dude, you need to do two things: first, chill, and second, get a manager.”

Employee: “I’m not getting a manager. You are banned from the store.”

Me: “Okay.”

I stepped out of line with the book and texted one of the managers that I knew, asking if they were at the store. Turns out they were, and I asked if they could come up to the front to explain to the new cashier about the publishing return policy.

Not even three minutes later my old manager and the general manager came up. The cashier saw them and smirked at me.

Employee: “Now you’re going to get it.”

Both of them greeted me, asking about the new job and how I was doing, and then asked what was wrong. I showed them the book and let them know that the cashier told me that I couldn’t return it and that I was banned from the store. 

Needless to say, it was quite a lovely shade of whitish-green that he turned when both of them let him know that, yes, they could return it and that he had absolutely no power in banning people. 

I got my book exchanged, and when I went back there a few weeks later he was stocking and apparently not allowed to be on the cash register for a bit.

Too Little Too Late

, , , , , | Working | September 24, 2021

[Manager #1] was my manager only briefly, as my old boss left suddenly and a new one couldn’t be found for a few months. She didn’t want to manage me, she didn’t value my job or my input, and she made no attempt to hide it.

A new manager was eventually found, but I never forgot how she treated me. I made every attempt to avoid her, and if she wanted my help, she could ask my boss, and then it was low-priority.

Eventually, I found another job with better pay and fewer hours and handed in my resignation. [Manager #1] made several remarks about me not being a loss to the company. But it didn’t affect me; she didn’t matter and her opinion didn’t matter.

On my last day, she came to my desk.

Manager #1: “Here. Just a little something so as not to part on bad terms.”

Me: “Oh, a card… Thanks.”

Manager #1: “Just a little something, you know. Good luck.”

I already had the bin there for the rest of the stuff in my desk, so the card went there, too. A few weeks into my new job, my new manager pulled me aside.

Manager #2: “We had an applicant get through to the shortlist. I think you might know her… [Manager #1]?”

I was far more professional than [Manager #1] deserved, but I was honest and told him how she had behaved on several occasions. She did not get the job.

When Mom Projects Her Insecurities, You Project Them Right Back

, , , , , | Related | September 24, 2021

I sew as a hobby and have been occupying my free time by making clothes for my toddler. I’m showing my mother some patterns I got on sale and a bunch of fabric. The fabric has cute stories behind it: extras from prior projects, fabric and trim I found while helping clean out my late grandmother’s place, and fabric I bought at an estate sale for a nice old lady I traded tips with.

She is not impressed.

Mother: “Well, with all this talent you have, why not make some clothes for work? That’s far more practical than all…” *waves hand over my cutting table* “…this.”

Me: “Because most of what I have are scraps. A yard or two is plenty to make clothes for a kid, but not enough for a grown adult.”

Mother: “You could use those scraps to make me some pants instead of spending your time going to thrift stores and making all this frilly stuff. Is [Daughter] even going to wear this?”

This is not the first time she’s made snide comments about my hobby, but I’ve had it at this point. I put on my best customer service smile.

Me: “You know, I have six yards of black twill I need to use up. Why don’t you grab my tape measure and give me your measurements? Waist, hips, and inseam.”

She does this, feeling smug as heck. I compare them to my master sizing chart and go through my stock of patterns, pulling out every pants pattern in her size. There’s a variety of styles, but they are all “women’s” or “plus” patterns.

Me: “Okay, pick one.”

Mother: “Um… these are all… big women’s patterns.”

Me: “Yes, your measurements put you in women’s sizing and not misses’. Pick one, please.”

Now it’s my turn to be smug, as I watch the realization dawn on her that vanity sizing (a common retail practice of labeling a garment as smaller than it is) doesn’t extend to sewing patterns. She puts the patterns down and starts backing out of the room.

Mother: “I guess the pants I have are fine.”

Me: “I guess they are.”

She left it alone and I go back to designing for my daughter. She loves her new outfits! The ladies in my moms’ support group are starting to offer to pay me to make clothes for their kids!