On The Fence About Their Motives

, , , , | Right | July 5, 2018

(I get off of shift and am waiting for my ride by the general merchandise entrance when I see someone bolting out of the store with an employee and a security guard chasing him. Since this particular store opened, they have had a lot of trouble with theft; thus, the guard. A couple of minutes later, the employee returns to a gathering group of other workers drawn by the commotion.)

Employee #1: *after catching his breath* “You know that fence we have?”

(He’s referring to a seven- or eight-foot fence that separates the parking lot from semi-active train tracks.)

Employee #2: “S***! Did the guy jump the fence?”

Employee #1: “Nope! He suddenly doubled back and tried to climb the garden center fence! [Guard] got him on the ground. Anyone call the cops yet?”

Employee #3: “But we have a ceiling on the garden center; what did he hope to accomplish?”

Employee #1: “H*** if I know.”

(When my ride came, I saw the police car pull into the parking lot, and the guard still holding the would-be thief along with a case of broken beer bottles next to the twenty-foot-high garden center fence.)

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The Managers Are Independent Of The System

, , , , , , | Working | July 4, 2018

I work at a newspaper. Independence Day, July 4th, is on a Tuesday this year. Some people want to take Monday, July 3rd, off so they don’t have to work one day, be off one day, and come back the next day. Six weeks before the week of July 4th, all the employees in our region get an email from the region’s general manager, telling us that if we want to take July 3rd off, we need to ask our department head first thing. So, that day, I ask my boss for July 3rd off. I get a reply through our email chat function about two days later, saying he’ll look into it and get back to me ASAP.

Two-and-a-half weeks later, I get an email saying, “I think not,” for my July 3rd leave, because he doesn’t want our department to be understaffed on that day. (Note: We are literally always understaffed by at least two people, and even more so at the moment because there’s been an open position since May that has yet to be filled. However, on a holiday week when basically everything shuts down for July 3rd, anyway, the need for reporters is even less.)

Come July 3rd, in chatting with coworkers, I find out that of the five people in the editorial department, four people, including my boss, have asked for that day off. Maybe all five of us, but I didn’t talk to the fifth person. Only my boss, who approves the vacation time, gets the day off.

In the sales department, a friend tells me she also asked for the day off. Because of the week’s schedule, 99% of her clients and potential clients are not working, so there is very little work she can do that day. She, too, is told no, because her boss, the general manager who told us to request it off early, is also not working July 3rd, and thus, my friend needs to be there.

The only people whose vacations are approved in my region for Monday, July 3rd: The department heads who choose whose vacation is approved.

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Sick Of Your Schedule Changes

, , , , , | Working | July 3, 2018

(I am 19, and my first job starts me off in a call center that’s notorious for having a high turnover and very strict policies. After training, my trainer gives me my days off and hours.)

Trainer: “You have Tuesday and Wednesday off, and Sunday is a short day. You must call if you’re not going to make it.”

Me: “Tuesday and Wednesday, got it.”

(My supervisor nods in confirmation. I end up going off on that schedule. On Friday, I am pulled into the office.)

Supervisor: “Why did you miss a day?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Supervisor: “You didn’t come in Tuesday.”

Me: “But that’s my day off. That’s what my trainer said. Here’s the schedule.”

Supervisor: “It’s Wednesday and Thursday. Now, because you have an unexplained absence, we’ll dock your sick days for the rest of the probation period.”

(I had come in Thursday to work, so essentially I still worked the same hours. I tried to show them the schedule I was given, but they refused to look at it. Fast forward about a month: I ended up getting a horrific stomach bug that lasted an entire 48 hours, where I ended up vomiting every three hours or so and thus had no sleep, but since I had lost my sick days, I couldn’t call out. I ended up arriving at work, clearly sick as a dog, exhausted, and then my floor supervisor put me on a computer with a broken headset so I wouldn’t even able to do my job. Without anything to focus on, my exhaustion caught up to me, and I ended up nodding off. I was promptly taken to the office and fired. I ended up throwing up about as soon as I exited the building. Part of me wished I had taken my time so I could’ve vomited on my supervisors.)

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Something Fishy About These Hamsters

, , , , , | Right | June 27, 2018

(I’m talking to a customer about hamsters. We are standing in front of the hamster cages, going over basic care when a young girl — seven or eight at the oldest — comes up.)

Girl: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Girl: “Where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “Real hamsters?”

Girl: “Yeah, where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “They’re right here!” *smiles and gestures to cages in front of me with hamsters in them*

Girl:That’s going to be my class pet!? I knew we should’ve gotten a fish!” *looks horrified, then runs away*

(I couldn’t tell if the customers I’d been helping were laughing at the girl, or my facial expression.)

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A Premium Reason To Quit

, , , , , | Right | June 26, 2018

(There’s nothing I love more than getting yelled at by crazy old men for things that A) aren’t my fault, B) I can’t change, and C) have been this way since before I was born. Most gas stations, if you haven’t noticed, charge a bit of a premium for credit card use. This is because the banks themselves charge us for when people use credit cards; the premium helps to defray some of that cost. This premium has been in place for decades now, and 99% of gas stations have that premium. Those that don’t make up for it by just setting their prices higher. This somehow didn’t make it through to the geezer who runs up to my window, brandishing his receipt like it’s one of Wonka’s golden tickets.)

Customer: “YOU CHANGE PRICE! Say $2.31! Why change?! YOU CHANGE!”

Me: “Sir, $2.31 is the credit card price. $2.21 is the cash price listed on the sign.”

Customer: “WHERE SAY?”

Me: “On every pump, sir. The credit card price is listed there.”

Customer: “No, it wasn’t! Show me!”

(I lead him to a pump and point.)

Me: “Right there, sir. Every pump lists the credit price.”


(By this time, I’m a bit fed up.)

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can I help you with anything else?”

(Kill them with kindness, right? With a huff, he let out a final “F*** YOU,” jumped in his van, and peeled out of the parking lot at something like 40 miles an hour. I have to say, I wish him luck. We’re the cheapest gas station for three miles, and every other gas station in the county has the same premium.)

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