We hired a new administrative assistant to help keep track of things. She was fresh to the job market, but her credentials were reasonable. She was able to type an impressive ninety-two words per minute during our proctored typing test, about half again as fast as the runner-up.

Unfortunately, she was a bit useless. She spent most of her time browsing webcomics and reading raunchy fanfiction on the Internet — when she wasn’t using the work computer to write it. Whenever someone asked her to do something, she’d say, “Yeah, that’s not my job,” and not do it. 

Frustrated, I confronted her.

Me: “You say this isn’t your job, and that isn’t your job. What exactly do you think your job is?”

Admin Assistant: *Flustered* “Uh… um…”

Me: “Yeah. That’s what I thought. This is your official verbal notice. Start making yourself useful, or we will be removing you from the team.”

She actually did shape up after that! I think that it was just her first job and she needed a little kick in the pants to remind her that jobs are supposed to be work. She stayed with us for five years until she got her degree from college and left.

I was interviewing with a company to do graphics design and marketing work, or so I thought. They said I seemed to be a good fit and told me to come by the next day for a job shadow.

I showed up in my best business suit and a pair of nice confident heels. They told me I’d be “riding along” with another girl.

To my surprise, we got into a car and drove a long way — about an hour and a half to a small residential neighborhood. I was starting to suspect ax murderers until they gave me the pamphlets; the position was actually door-to-door sales.

The humidity was nasty, and my suit was not the right clothing for this. A few hours in, one of my heels got caught in a grate, and I lost my balance, went down, and heard a snap. My foot started swelling up.

I wanted to go home, but my ride-along was scared that she wouldn’t make her quota and that she’d be fired if she didn’t.

I called my dad. He drove out to pick me up from his home, which is in a different town from where this happened… which was also a different town from my home. This was about a three-hour drive. Dad drove me back to my car, and I drove my car home — which did not help the pain in my foot. I took a bunch of pills and went to bed.

The next day, my foot was even worse, swollen, and purple. I went to urgent care and found that I had an articular fracture.

At first, the people I had been interviewing with tried to weasel out of paying my medical bill, so I had to contact an Employment Attorney. That fixed it; I got my medical bills covered, the lawyer’s fees covered, and some shut-up money to cover rent and necessities while I recovered.

Eventually, I did find a job doing actual graphics design work for advertising, but the break never did heal correctly. I can’t wear anything but orthopedic flats anymore, no more heels (I used to love heels), and I bring a cane or a walker with me wherever I go in case the pain flares up.

Fun fact: the girl I was riding along with did not make her quota, got fired for it, blamed me for it, and sent me a nasty message about it. The attorney and I used that as proof that I was in fact riding along with her when the company attempted to deny it.

I remember when a new intern started at our office in the 1990s. I was relatively new myself. I saw the intern being shown around, and then they disappeared into the office for a few hours. I next saw them rushing towards the exit, almost crying. The person assigned to train them stepped out, almost laughing.

Me: *Fearing the worst* “What happened?”

Trainer: “Hey, new idea. Let’s make sure that new interns know the difference between a fax machine and a shredder.”

When the intern found out that they had, in fact, not been loading a fifty-page report into the “paper sending machine”, they were mortified with embarrassment and fled the scene. They never came back.

Related:
‘Cause You’re An Intern, WA DA DA WAP WA DAAAAAA! Part 2
‘Cause You’re An Intern, WA DA DA WAP WA DAAAAAA!

I am a manager at a paper recycling plant. One of our positions is described as “paper shredder”. We receive boxes of papers that need to be fed through a shredder due to containing information that must be destroyed before the papers can be recycled. The shredder’s job starts at 9:00 am and ends at 5:00 pm, or when their load is done. Which days they work are not fixed; they only schedule their day off.

We hire a guy on a “supported employment” system; they help people with physical disabilities or mental deviations get hired by paying their wages for a “trial period” of so many hours and then meeting with the superiors to decide whether a hire is accepted properly.

[New Hire] is a friendly worker who happens to be on the autism spectrum, and he quickly proves himself a swift worker.

One day, we get the biggest load since [New Hire] joined, and I let him know as such. 

Me: “This one’s probably gonna take you the whole day and some of tomorrow.”

New Hire: “Bet you I can get through the whole thing before lunch.”

Me: *Laughs* “[New Hire], if you get through the whole thing before lunch, I will let you go home and mark you down for the whole day.”

Our workplace does not have a computerized clock-in at the time of this story.

New Hire: “You’re on. And if I can’t, then I’ll get everyone donuts while I grab lunch.”

Me: “Deal.”

We shake on it, and [New Hire] gets to work.

Two and a half hours later, [New Hire] asks if we have bandages; he’s done the workload, at the expense of several paper cuts. After directing him to the first aid kit, I check his work station. The bins are empty, the shredder is not damaged, the pile behind the shredder has been raked aside to avoid being caught back in the gears, and there’s a small pile of paper clips in the trash bin. Not only did he get it done, but he got it done without cutting corners.

I own up to my side of the deal, sending him off with the name of a store that sells gloves ideal for handling paper in (to avoid further paper-cut-riddled clockouts) and marking down on his time sheet for the max shift length.

Fast forward to the end of [New Hire]’s trial period. A representative from the supported employment company comes in with [New Hire]. She gives me a questionnaire to assess [New Hire]’s performance, mostly statements with agree/disagree ratings. [Representative] has me read them aloud to make sure I’m not misinterpreting anything, and we reach this item.

Questionnaire: “Worker completes their assigned tasks within the alotted time.”

[New Hire] and I traded looks and both started laughing while I marked the statement as “Strongly Agree”.

Unfortunately, while my company and I were eager to take on [New Hire] full-time, a certain health crisis reached Canada shortly thereafter, and [New Hire] was let go for safety reasons. Contacting him after things recovered to offer him his position back was, sadly, not an option. Wherever he is now, I hope he’s working just as swiftly as he did then, for an employer who’ll reward him for his effort and efficiency.

Neither of these stories happened to me; they happened to two friends, who told me about them afterward. They involve a large company that conducted itself as if it were the CIA. Its founder also acted this way. Why, nobody knows. After many years, it was bought by a megacompany and no longer exists.

Incident #1:

[Friend #1] applied for a job with [Company] and was offered a position, so he called the recruiter.

Friend #1: “Thank you for the offer. Which office has hired me?”

Recruiter: “We will tell you that after you accept the position.”

Friend #1: “No, I need to know which city the job is in before I decide to accept.”

Recruiter: “No, we will assign you the city after you accept the job.”

Friend #1: “Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. Thanks, anyway.”

Incident #2:

[Friend #2] was offered a job as a technical writer with [Company] and she accepted. She flew to the location that was performing training for new hires, and she showed up for her first day.

Company Employee: “Okay, go to room five for new computer programmers.”

Friend #2: “No, I’m a technical writer.”

Company Employee: “No, you will be a computer programmer.”

Friend #2: “I have no background as a programmer. I’m a writer.”

Company Employee: “You are now a programmer. Room five.”

Friend #2: “Then I quit.”

Company Employee: “Okay. But you will reimburse us for the plane fare and the hotel.”

[Friend #2] grudgingly did so.