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So Much For That Bone-us

| Working | March 21, 2013

(Our warehouse is full of customers’ furniture. The warehouse guy is usually be the one showing the customers’ their furniture, but the boss has him working on something else. She makes me do it, even though I’ve never been trained to and usually just answer phones and greet the customers.)

Boss: “You! Go show this customer her furniture. She wants to look at it.”

Me: “But, I don’t know how—”

Boss: “What do I pay you for?! GO!”

(I take the customer to the warehouse and find her furniture, which is a sofa. I undo the tape and peel back the cardboard. The sofa is covered with a thick plastic wrap.)

Customer: “Can you take the plastic wrap off? I can’t see it.”

(I find a sharp pair of scissors and begin cutting away, trying hard not to cut into the fabric. It is dim in the warehouse, even though all the lights are on. I’m having a lot of difficulty cutting.)

Me: “Hm, that’s weird, why won’t these blades close? What’s blocking it?”

(To my horror, I realize what was blocking the blades was my finger! I’m bleeding and trying not to let it land on the new sofa.)

Customer: “Hm, that’s not the color I wanted…hmm..”

(The customer continues looking at sofa, not noticing me and my injury.)

Me: “E-E-Excuse me!”

(I leave, clutching my bleeding hand. Strangely, I feel no pain, but I do get faint at the sight of blood. I look for a first aid kit when my boss stops me with her hands on her hips.)

Boss: “What’re you doing here?! Did you show that sofa?”

Me: *shows injured hand* “Yes, and I cut myself with scissors!”

Boss: *rolls eyes* “Oh my God. Are you stupid?! I bet now you’re trying to find work injury compensation!”

Me: “No, I’m trying to find a first aid kit!”

Boss: “GET BACK TO THE WAREHOUSE! WHAT DO I PAY YOU FOR?! YOU’RE USELESS!”

Me: “No!”

(I find a sink and carefully clean my injury. Luckily, I haven’t injured myself too badly and the blood is starting to clot. Hooray for strong bones! When the boss fired me soon after that, I ran—not walked—out of there and have been happier at another job ever since.)

This Coworker Is A Real Headache

| Working | December 6, 2012

(Despite having a migraine, one of my coworkers has decided to stay and continue working on our night shift because she doesn’t want to get an infraction. A snotty coworker, however, seems to have a problem with this.)

Snotty Coworker: *scoffs* “Oh, please! She’s faking. I have REAL migraines. I know what they’re like.”

Coworker with migraine: “Oh, do you now?”

Snotty Coworker: “DUH! I mean, come on… it just hurts really bad. It’s not like people can’t deal with them.”

Coworker with migraine: “Actually, it hurts so badly that you want to cry, but crying makes it worse. Crying makes it worse… light makes it worse… sound makes it worse. Then, it starts throbbing and it makes you want to puke. But that makes it worse, too. It makes you want to curl up in a ball and make the world stop because existing hurts.”

Snotty Coworker: “God, just take a Tylenol.”

Me: “Um, most doctors actually say that once you already HAVE a migraine, not much can actually make it stop. There are drugs you can take during the onset, but after it’s already there, there’s very few things that’ll actually have an effect.”

Snotty Coworker: “That’s not true. I would know!”

Me: “Oh yeah? How?”

Snotty Coworker: “Because I’m better than you.”

Me: “I’m in nursing school, and we’ve been learning about people with conditions like hers lately.”

Snotty Coworker: “No! You’re wrong because I’m better than you!”

(My coworker with the migraine ended up having to call someone to come pick her up because she couldn’t drive home in her condition. The snotty coworker ended up getting fired for having a similar argument with the boss, about how she couldn’t be wrong because ‘she’s better than everyone. She will NOT be missed.)

A Shortage Of Men-tal Ability

| Working | December 2, 2012

(At the warehouse where I work, we’re taking some new hires inside the huge walk-in freezer. Everyone has to put on freezer suits, but I notice one of the new hires is too small to wear our freezer suits.)

Me: “So, one of the new people can’t wear the freezer suit. We’ve gotta put her in a different section.”

Manager #1: “Just zip her into it she’ll be fine.”

Me: “No, the freezer suit is three times too big for her. She wouldn’t be able to safely move and carry things around.”

Manager #1: “Well, maybe she shouldn’t be so small, then!”

Me: “Um… I don’t really think that’s in her control. She’s kinda short.”

Manager #2: “What the h*** is going on?”

Me: “One of the new people is too physically small to safely move around in the freezer suits, so I want to have somebody take her over to another section of the warehouse.”

Manager #2: “Is that [new hire’s name]?”

Me: “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Manager #2: “[Coworker] is a friend of hers. He was joking yesterday that he knew she’d be too small to fit in the suits.” *to the Manager #1* “I left you a note to have her on the other side of the warehouse!”

Manager #1: “I thought that was just ’cause she was a girl!”

Zombies Need Contractors Too

| Right | June 20, 2011

(A customer calls and asks about a company that is subcontracted to manage some machinery in the warehouse. I explain it to him.)

Caller: “Oh, so you’re an umbrella corporation, then?”

Me: “Yes, sir, that’s correct. Except we don’t have zombies.”

Caller: “I’m sorry, what?”

Me: “Never mind, sir. Did you have any other questions today?”


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