Sadly, this is a story about my son. A few years ago he broke into a home, and loaded items into his backpack and left. Sadly for him, luckily for the police, when putting items in the backpack, he removed some papers to make room.
The papers?
Copies of his resumé with full name and contact information.
(I do conventions, selling my arts and crafts. I am taking a girl’s credit card via my PayPal swiper on my phone.)
Customer: “Can I get cash back for this?”
Me: “Uh… Madam… It doesn’t work that way… I don’t have a register.”
Customer: “Oh, right, sorry.”
Related:
Cash Back Attack, Part 6
Cash Back Attack, Part 5
Cash Back Attack, Part 4
(I tend to go into work, or head to any appointment, around an hour early. This is for many reasons: to time how long it takes to walk there so, in the case of jobs, I’m never late, to cool down from the walk before needing to do anything, and sometimes just to buy stuff beforehand. I have applied at a local gas mart I have never walked to before, so I arrive for my interview an hour and a half early. Said mart also makes small batches of food, like hotdogs, subs, chicken fingers, etc., so it is pretty busy. I just take a seat near the back and start reading my book. Then, I decide I am thirsty, so I grab a drink and get in line to pay, and the manager sees me when I say hi to the cashier.)
Manager: *in a really snotty tone* “You’re early! It’s too busy to interview you!”
Me: *surprised, but trying to be as neutral-sounding as possible* “I understand I’m an hour early. I was walking and decided to stop in and grab a drink.” *holds up my book and the bottle of water I am buying* “I can read until you’re ready. If it stays busy, no rush. I have nowhere else to be today and can wait.”
Manager: *still giving me an attitude* “Well! Don’t expect your interview to be early! It’s slammed!”
(She stalks into the back room while I pay for my water and sit back down. I can hear the manager quite clearly, too, with her attitude still fully in her voice:)
Manager: “I can’t believe he’s here this early, expecting me to drop everything to interview him! He can wait until we’re less busy, and I’m good and ready!”
(I stand up and say to the cashier:)
Me: “You know what? I don’t think I really want this job after all. Let her know for me?”
(I hurried myself right out of there. I stopped in a few times a month over the next year, since a construction job I got not long after passed by there, and the same manager was always there… and they were always looking for new hires.)
(I have relatives over. They are not fond of my girlfriend because they consider her weird and childish. My dad and I are preparing dinner when I accidentally cut my finger.)
Me: “S***. Babe, can you bring me a band-aid?”
Girlfriend: *from upstairs* “Sure, hold on.”
(As soon as she leaves the room my dad pipes in.)
Dad: “How can you date someone who dresses like a twelve year old?”
Me: “She’s 23; she can dress however she wants.”
Dad: “And what grown woman collects stuffed animals?”
Me: “She likes cute things. Big deal. A lot of adults collect toys.”
(Before my dad can say another word, my girlfriend comes in with a band-aid, the cutesy kind.)
Girlfriend: “Here, sorry it took so long. I didn’t find any in your medicine cabinet so I got some from mine.”
Me: “It’s fine.”
Dad: “You’re a grown-a** man, you—”
Me: “Stop, just stop. I’ve had enough. It’s a band-aid; it’ll do its job regardless of how it looks. Another disrespectful comment, and you, as well as everyone who shares your attitude, can go check into a hotel.”
(The rest of the visit was thankfully without incident. We’re still not sure if we should tell my side of the family that we’re planning to get married.)
(I’m sitting on a bench. I rub my neck because it hurts. A stranger comes up behind me.)
Stranger: “Generation Look-Down. You know, you wouldn’t have so many problems if you stopped using those phones!”
(They start ranting about the evils of technology. I wordlessly hold up my crocheting.)
Stranger: *sputters* “I… I have an errand!” *runs off*
