The Data Is Unable To Enter Their Brain

, , , , | Working | September 21, 2017

(I’m between jobs, so I’ve applied to a temping agency that supplies data-entry personnel to offices. They go through my CV with me and tell me they’ll get back to me within a week to see what’s available. After not hearing from them for a fortnight, I go back to find out what’s going on.)

Recruiter: “Yes, we still have your details. It’s just hard to find you anything since you don’t have any office experience.”

Me: “Yes, I do.”

Recruiter: “No, you don’t.”

Me: “Didn’t we go through this? I’ve been working in offices for over two years now. The bulk of the work I was doing was in compiling and checking spreadsheets. Not to mention, I got plenty of experience with all the relevant systems at university, and even in school.”

Recruiter: “But ‘data entry’ was never your job description, was it?”

Me: “Well… no.”

Recruiter: “Then none of it counts. You have no experience.”

Me: *as I leave* “It’s data entry. Everyone has experience.”

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In Grave Danger

, , , , | Working | September 20, 2017

(I am passing another department’s office at lunchtime when I notice my coworker working at her desk, as she has been for the last six hours. She is boss of a department of two, meaning that she and her assistant have to go on alternate lunches so one of them is always present.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], have you had lunch yet?”

Coworker: “…Nope.”

Me: “Where’s [Assistant]?”

Coworker: *checks the clock* “Thirty minutes late. She went out with [other department].”

Me: “You’ve been here since 7:30, right? It’s now 13:30. Shouldn’t you text her to get her to find out where she is?”

Coworker: *serene smile* “Nope, I think I’ll let her take her time.”

Me: “…Why?”

Coworker: “Because after lunch I’m giving her a performance review, which she’s known about all week. I love it when they dig their own graves.”

(I never found out what happened in the review, but that afternoon, [Assistant]’s eyes were red.)

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When The Training Is Waning

, , , , , , | Working | September 19, 2017

(I’m a university student looking for a part time job to help with my tuition fees. This year I’m rooming with someone who works at one of the delis around the city, and they tell me their place of work is in need of additional staff. I call them up, do a short phone interview, and initially the job sounds ideal. I will be able to work hours when I don’t have class, the pay is decent, and the commute is manageable. I ask about training, having never done food service before, and they assure me it’ll be provided. Fast-forward to my first day. I turn up, greet the manager on duty, get handed my hat, apron, and name-tag, and am asked to put on gloves. Upon doing so, my manager gives me a nod.)

Manager: “All right, you look good. Now start serving; the lunch rush is about to begin.”

(He walks into the back, leaving me alone at the front store with no idea of what to do. After a moment’s hesitation, I head into the back.)

Me: “Um, sir?”

Manager: “Yes? What are you doing back here? You can’t leave the food counter unattended!”

Me: “Well… it’s just… I was told I’d get training. This is my first day after all.”

(The manager just shrugs.)

Manager: “You cut meat and put ingredients between slices of bread. It’s not that hard. Now get back out there. I’ll be out shortly to man the register.”

(He shoos me out of the back. I am thus left by myself to try and figure out how to make the menu items. There are dozens of ingredients to deal with, and as the customers start pouring in for lunch, I start panicking, as each time someone orders something, I have to repeatedly check the menu behind me for what is used to make what. Of course, it doesn’t list the amounts I’m supposed to use, so that’s a different problem. When the manager does come out to ring up folks’ food, he ignores any questions I try to ask, and just shoots the breeze with the customers. The only saving grace is that most of the lunch rush people are regulars, who are kind enough to help me along with how to make their sandwiches, which bread to use, which spreads, and so on. Even so, the line keeps growing and growing as I keep making mistakes and having to redo orders, until finally the manager notices the hold up and sends me to sit in the back while he finishes the lunch rush. After the store quiets down, he walks back, sifting through a small wad of bills.)

Manager: “Here, that’s for the hours you worked today. This clearly isn’t a good fit for you, so you can go now.”

Me: “What? It didn’t work because I had no idea what to do! As I said on the phone, I’ve never worked in a deli before! I was told you’d provide training!”

(The manager shrugs again.)

Manager: “The training was to see if you can sink or swim. You sank, and made the lunch rush a total mess. I need someone who can come in and get straight to helping out. Leave your apron and hat on the desk please. I need to start cleaning up now.”

(Not wanting to argue further, I head back to my dorms, chalking this up as just a harsh learning experience. That is, until my roommate storms in later that evening looking utterly enraged.)

Me: “[Roommate], what are you doing back? I thought you had your shift at the deli right after your classes were over.”

Roommate: “So did I, until I showed up. [Manage] told me what happened during your first day, and said he didn’t feel comfortable having me work for him, since we’re rooming together. He claimed ‘conflict of interest’ or some crap like that and told me I was fired.”

Me: “Wait, what!?”

Roommate: “Yeah, seriously a**-hole move.”

Me: “I… I am so sorry!”

Roommate: “It’s not your fault. Honestly, I guess I should’ve paid more attention to how often he let me run the food counter solo, and only came out when his regular customers came in to chat. Kind of a red flag now that I think about it.”

Me: “So… what do we do now?”

Roommate: “Well, he said my apron was dirty and that I had to launder it before returning it.” *He pulls his work clothes from his bag.* “Want to vent some anger by running over this with my bike a few times?”

(Sadly, to this day, four years later, that deli remains in business, though it apparently has a ridiculous staff turnover rate, and every time I’ve passed it by, there’s an ad for new employees in the window.)

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Their Business Is Flat-Lining

, , , | Working | September 18, 2017

(I’m a newly graduated university student looking for my own place to live so I don’t have to move back to my hometown. I go to one of the local letting agencies, all of which are within a minute walk of each other. The first place has a young woman there to talk to; she already looks disinterested in me.)

Worker: “How can I help?”

Me: “I’m looking for a place to rent. My budget is allowing for between £250-350 a month for the rent alone. I don’t really mind about the place itself or how many rooms or anything, just so long as it can fit within that budget.”

Worker: *scoffs* “Okay, well I’ll look up those details for you now.”

(She looks up the information…)

Worker: “Right, so, I’ve found a flat that’s £500 a month. This looks pretty decent right?”

Me: “I guess it does, but like I said, my budget would only allow a maximum of £350. I couldn’t afford that right now.”

Worker: “Okay, well, here’s a place that is £350.” *gives info on it*

Me: “Yeah, that seems okay; when would I be able to view it?”

Worker: “We can book you in for a viewing next Monday at 11:30 am. Would that be okay?”

Me: “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

Worker: “You’ll need to phone us on that day, a half hour before, to confirm that you can make the appointment.”

Me: “Oh… Um, sorry, but that will be a little awkward for me. I’m on a PAYG phone and have no credit at the minute, and I’m not paid until the end of the month. Would no one here be able to phone me instead?”

Worker: *scoffs again* “Um, no, we don’t do that here. If you can’t phone us to confirm, then we can’t book a viewing for you.”

(I just left, choosing not to call her some choice words. I walked literally down the road to the next agency, and I was welcomed quite warmly by a nice elderly lady who actually listens to my price limit at the start. She made a point of only looking in the “nice area of town,” because I certainly look like a “nice lad.” I know it was kind of cheap flattery, but it wasn’t a swindle, it was honestly further into the less rough areas of town. She even made a point of calling the landlord right then and organising a viewing just two hours after my meeting with her. A week later, and I was all signed up at a studio flat at £285 a month, well within my budget. Honestly, it was no wonder that the first place I went to was empty, but the second place with the nice lady already had two couples talking to other advisers.)

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On This Bus You’re Living On A Prayer

, , , , | Working | September 16, 2017

I was waiting for my regular bus on a rainy day. On that day, the company sent out an extra bus in addition to the regular bus, and the extra arrived first. I was hesitant to get on it, because sometimes the extras don’t do the full route, and my stop was pretty far.

The driver really didn’t want to leave anyone standing there, though, and urged us all to get on. Every time we stopped, he did this spiel: “The regular bus is right behind me, but it might be full, so you should get on now, because I have plenty of room!”

Then, as he reached the halfway point of the route, at a stop filled with people, he refused to open the front door to let people in and suddenly announced, “Okay, I’m turning around! Everyone out!”

He never once indicated that he wasn’t doing the full route, he really pushed people to get on, even if they were reluctant, and then he just dumped us without any warning. The regular bus was not right behind him, and I had to walk another half mile in the rain and spend the rest of the day with jeans wet to the knee. I know I wasn’t the only one. Goodness knows why he harangued us all to board if he was just going to dump us halfway.

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