About a year before the global health crisis hit, I lost my previous long-time job. The drama surrounding that could be several individual stories — maybe someday.
This story is about the first interview for a new job I got afterward. Having been working in a warehouse for years and repeatedly passed over for promotion or transfer, I was excited to answer an ad for a Warehouse Supervisor position. The pay wasn’t superb, but it was better than what I’d been making. It was explicitly listed as an “introductory” salary, and there were various decent benefits listed.
I’d already spoken to the operations manager on the phone, and he liked what he heard and saw on the resume, so a lot of the interview was getting-to-know-you-type stuff about me and about the company, general warehouse-related questions, etc. The manager was very gregarious and very personable but also very, very much a salesman. It put me a little on edge how much he was trying to sell “opportunity” and “futures” and sounding more like a multi-level marketing scheme than a restaurant-supply warehouse.
After the less-than-impressive tour and meeting the warehouse manager — red flag #2 was that this group of less than ten people was to have both a manager and a supervisor — we finally sat down to discuss specifics on the job. Considering how happily he had responded to some extremely basic and common-sense questions, he was really overplaying a position of superiority when I could tell he was desperate. Then, this occurred.
Manager: “So, the pay rate is going to be $13 an hour, and—”
Me: “Whoa, hold on! The ad stated that the starting salary was going to be $16 an hour, and that was an introductory rate!”
Manager: “Well, let me finish. We run a minimum of fifty-hour work weeks, so that’s the equivalent of $16 for a forty-hour week, plus extras.”
Me: “Hm, that’s the first time I’ve heard about that because, again, in the advertisement for this position, it stated forty-hour weeks. So, you’re saying I would be getting a minimum of ten hours of overtime a week?”
Manager: “Actually, we don’t pay overtime; part of the contract is that you waive the right to it.”
Me: “I see, I see… Should I also assume that the benefits listed don’t match what you actually offer?”
Manager: “Oh, no, no! Our insurance is actually very high-tier for the amount it costs, and you qualify after twelve months.”
Me: “So, you want a warehouse supervisor who waives their legally obligated rights in exchange for below-standard pay rates and no benefits for a year?”
Manager: “Well, technically, you wouldn’t be a supervisor. We’d have you as a standard warehouse employee for a four-to-six-month evaluation before we decide where you’re going.”
Me: “Mhm. I’ll definitely have to think about that, but thank you for your time.”
I spent most of the hour-long drive home ranting and raving with my husband over the phone. The astonishing part was that the manager actually called me back twice, trying to offer me the “great opportunity” to work there and saying that I was passing up a “sure thing.”
Oh, yeah. So sure.
For the record, the job I DID get was a desk job with better pay and benefits, and I’ve already gotten a promotion and a raise despite the tumult the world’s gone through.
It seems like that company eternally has a “warehouse supervisor” hiring ad open. It’s a real mystery how it never gets filled!