When I am looking for a job, I find a listing that sounds right up my alley. I apply and get an interview.

I normally have fair-to-middling success at interviews; some are good, some not so good. This is one of the good ones; in fact, it is INCREDIBLE. I have answers for every question. I make my interviewer laugh a few times. We know some of the same people.

It goes so well, and it is such a good fit for me, I almost expect to be offered the job on the spot. Instead:

Interviewer: “Well, this has been a real pleasure.”

Me: “Thank you! I feel the same way.”

Interviewer: “We have one other candidate that we’re considering, but I should have an answer for you by the end of the week.”

Fair enough. I am a bit disappointed, but I am still optimistic. A couple of days later, I get this email from the interviewer:

Interviewer: “Thank you for your interest in [Company]. You were one of our top candidates, and it was very difficult to choose between you and the other person. In the end, that other person was slightly more qualified. But don’t give up! We’re hiring all the time, and another position will probably open up shortly. Please apply again, and mention my name in your application so that I see it right away.”

Well, that is very encouraging. Sure enough, only a couple of weeks later, I see another identical job posting from that company. I apply immediately, mentioning my interviewer’s name as she recommended.

A week goes by, then two, and then three. I think maybe my application has somehow slipped through the cracks, so I email the interviewer. I let her know that I’ve taken her advice and reapplied for [Position], and I am very much looking forward to hearing from her. I get back this response:

Interviewer: “Yes, we received your application. Thank you.”

That was it. I practically got frostbite reading it. I never got another interview with that company, and to this day, I have no idea what happened.

My mum visits her bank to exchange some English currency for Canadian. This is during a time when any Tom, Dick, or Harry can do transactions of this nature without having to sign in first. Unbeknownst to her, there is a $5 fee associated with currency exchange; however, the bank teller forgets to charge her. So, Mum gets her money exchanged, doesn’t get charged a fee, and goes on her merry way.

A couple of weeks later, Mum gets her bank statement in the mail and it plainly says that a “$5 Currency Exchange Fee” has been withdrawn from her account. She is very cross and calls the bank.

Bank: “Yes, that’s because our teller forgot to charge you. She remembered after you left, recognized you, and took the money out of your account.”

Mum: “Let me get this straight: if I’d been just somebody off the street, and you’d forgotten to charge me, you would have waived the $5 fee?”

Bank: “That’s correct.”

Mum: “So, because I’m a loyal customer, you thought it was okay to help yourself to my money without notifying me first?”

Bank: “Um… Well, when you put it that way…”

Mum got her $5 back.

This story has been included in our June 2020 roundup as one of that month’s most memorable stories!

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A customer enters her local grocery store, notes all of the changes that have been made recently to keep customers and staff safe due to the health crisis, and follows all of the guidelines. After paying for her purchases, she tells the cashier:

Customer #1: “I just want to say that you guys are doing a wonderful job. I know this can’t be easy.”

The cashier beams and thanks her.

[Customer #2] enters the same grocery store to look for yeast. She is unable to find any, since it has become a hot commodity, so she wants to leave the store. She discovers that doing so without actually going through the checkout is extremely difficult, due to many of the usual egresses being blocked.

In her confusion, she goes the wrong way down an aisle. In other words, the aisle has clear “WALK IN THIS DIRECTION” arrows on the floor, and she forgets to check them. Another customer barks at her.

Other Customer: “You’re going the wrong way!”

[Customer #2] yelps in distress, almost in tears:

Customer #2: “I’m just trying to GET OUT OF HERE!”

An employee comes along and helps her out of the store. She practically runs out the door, face burning.

Reader, both of those customers were me. I wish I could say that I’m sorry to the people who witnessed the second situation!

I am a member of my company’s social committee. The head of the social committee decides to have a company-wide Pizza Day, and I agree to organize it. I am told what to order and what my budget will be.

I decide to order from a local chain that is pretty decent. Unbeknownst to me, this particular chain has a deal on its extra-large pizzas – if you order over a certain number, you get a discount, and the more you order, the bigger the discount. I am ordering a LOT, and the discount is substantial.  

When Pizza Day arrives, one poor restaurant employee delivers every single box by himself, which means multiple trips out to his car and up the elevator. He looks tired and stressed at the end, and on impulse, I add an extra $20 to his tip. Even with that in mind, we’ve still saved a lot of money, and I have come in well under budget. The look of joy on the guy’s face is well worth it.

A week later, I speak with the head of the social committee.

Head: “Why did you tip the pizza guy so much?”

I explain.

Head: “That doesn’t matter! You cost the company money!”

Me: “How do you figure? I spent less than our original budget.”

Head: “It’s not like delivering pizza is difficult! He didn’t deserve an extra $20!”

I feel sorry for anyone who delivers food to this guy.

I got married to my first husband very young, and after only a few months, we discovered that getting married was a huge mistake. We had a very amicable divorce and parted friends. We didn’t stay in touch, but our parents did, so we often heard about what was going on in each other’s lives.

Time passed, and I married again. My second husband and I had a little girl, and we gave her a sister two years later.

I get the following phone call about a month after giving birth the second time. It has probably been six years or more since my ex and I last spoke.

Ex: “Hi, [My Name]! How are you?”

Me: “[Ex]! It’s been so long! I’m fine; thanks for asking. How are you?”

I honestly think he called to catch up and perhaps congratulate me on the new baby.

Ex: “Things couldn’t be better for me. Your parents probably heard from mine that I’m now involved in [Pyramid Scheme]?”

He doesn’t call it a pyramid scheme, of course. It is a vitamin company which is — if you believe the hype — going to be responsible for the human race staying in the peak of health for decades and living to be 120.

Me: “Yes, I heard that.”

Ex: “Let me tell you all about it. These vitamins are the best thing ever, and—”

Me: “Uh, let me stop you right there. I’m not interested in buying any vitamins.”

Ex: “Oh, that’s not why I’m calling. I have a business proposition for you and [Second Husband] which you’d be crazy to turn down.”

Me: “No, thanks.”

Ex: “Don’t say no right away. You haven’t heard about it—”

Me: “Look, [Ex], I’m not interested in anything to do with that company, so please don’t waste your time.”

Ex: “…”

Me: “But anyway, enough about that. What’s new? How’s the family?”

How pathetic is that? I still think that he called for a friendly chat, not a sales pitch.

Ex: *Hurriedly* “Oh, they’re fine, but I really have to go. Nice talking to you, [My Name].” *Click*

And that was that. I couldn’t help but be saddened that the sweet young man who’d once promised to love me for all time had turned into a sleazy salesman, but that’s life, I guess. I never heard from him again.