For my bachelors degree I had to get a short time of work experience. I chose to work at a small, local company. The company founder invented and patented a technique which is perfect for low numbers of production, thus working in a niche. The company was bought by the current owner, a person whose business experience was kinda non-existing. Instead of keeping the company on the healthy course, he cut corners so hard he even destroyed equipment by pulling the plug every evening to save energy. He was also an abusive racist who wanted to control everything in the company himself, eventhough he had a manager. He created some major problems but the worst is actually replacing an old inventory program with Excel sheets. The new system was cluttered and the workers who created this didnt work there when I arrived. When the sales girl that did inventory left, it was given me, a student worker of production planning, telling me what to do:

Print the independent inventory list everyday and check the shelves of production and shipping department if everything is there.

Everything that is new or misses needs to be found in the delivery or production lists and then added or removed from the current inventory location.

Don’t check the warehouse, it is too much and everything in there are products which get shipped out to contractors for painting or metal coating. The delivery lists allow for this accounting, just add them.

Sounds easy, was easy, had a major problem. The company regularly rescheduled shipping for products cause of bad time managment. This lead to me seeing a delivery pop up, then disappear instead of being marked as shipped out, so I wait if it will appear on the shipped out list a day later (as sometimes happened), but instead it appeared for scheduled to ship out in three days. So in the reasoning I was given, the company rescheduled shipping but I checked the warehouse and was 99% sure the sales department made an error with the deliveries list, as I didnt find the box anymore. As the head of sales department (the manager of the company) and the owners talked down to me because I did some things more thoroughly/accurate/formal but different than they are used to I let them run right into it. The day of the shipping I get called into the meeting room, the manager and the owner sitting there, waiting to chew me out because inventory was badly wrong (it was a big box of 100 parts for a big customer), the owner getting ready to shout at me when I cut him short and say “It’s not my fault”, so I get sent to check my lists, so I get to my computer, read some news, go back up and tell them “My reports are correct but the delivery list is incorrect”. This is the moment when the manager starts to chew me out for critizing her department, smugly starting to check the list, then falling silent. The owner started to chew her out. I got sent away when he made the manager starting to cry and he realized he just shouted at a pregnant woman.

Could I have prevented this error, definetly yes, was it right what I did, no, but in the end, if I would have pointed the error out, nobody would have learned anything as no critizism was allowed.

Hello, Hello Kitty!!
Due to various events in my life, all sorts of holidays are difficult for me. One way I have found to cope, is to embrace Hello Kitty with gusto! Halloween? Yep there’s a Hello Kitty t-shirt for that! Thanksgiving? Christmas? Your Birthday. Yes, yes, yes!
Today is the day before Halloween. I wore my Hello Kitty Halloween shirt (she’s riding a broomstick lol lol lol). I walked into a clothing store and an employee *immediately* said “Oh my God, I love your Hello Kitty shirt!” So I explained where I got it (online retailer sounds like Snazazon). Then he noticed my Hello Kitty bag! Yes also from “Snazazon”! Then I showed him my Hello Kitty necklace!! And told him about the Hello Kitty stickers! And the iron-on patches!! He was genuinely enthralled. It made my day.
Thank you “Snazazon” and Hello Kitty for spreading joy. Oh gosh I forgot to tell the guy about the Hello Kitty Magic 8 Ball!! Next time :)

Back in middle school (so, about 11-14 years old), I had spent the night at friend’s house, and her dad gave me a ride home. My friend was in the car, too. I gave her dad directions as we neared my house–this was before smart phones and other easy access to GPS.

Me: Turn left here…and the next right…my house is up the road by the mailboxes and the street light.

Friend’s dad: This one?

Me: The blue one, ye–

Friend (cutting me off): No, the grey one, Dad.

Me: No, the blue house.

Friend (pointing to my neighbors’ house): It’s that grey one.

Me: No, it’s not. My house is blue, next to the grey one.

Friend: But it’s that one!

Me: [Friend]! I know where I live!

Her dad ended up believing me, and dropped me off in front the right house. My parents met me at the door and I gestured to my friend to indicate, “See? I know which house is mine!”

This happened before lockdown. My sister and I have gone out for brunch and are paying afterward, when I catch sight of my sister’s new bank card with a photo of her cat on it.

Me: Is that Bepis on your card?!?

Cashier: *chokes*

Sister: Why yes, it is Bepis!

Cashier: *busts out laughing*

One of our area libraries puts on a free comic convention every summer, complete with guest authors and artists, activities, LEGO displays, a dealer room, a sci-fi/fantasy used book sale, and an Artist’s Alley where authors and comic artists can promote and sell their books and art. It’s a fun event, and despite it being free I can generally be counted on to spend a bundle at one of these things.

I wander into the Artist’s Alley to visit with some of the authors and artists, and figure I’ll buy a couple of indie comics and/or books to support these creators. I spot one table covered in awesome-looking comics and art prints, and I go to ask the artist how much a particular print will cost.

The artist in question is, however, deep in conversation with another attendee. I decide to browse the rest of the table and wait while he finishes up the conversation, sure that it will be over in a minute so he can continue selling his stuff.

No such luck — the two of them continue what sounds like an in-depth conversation about their favorite obscure comic series while attendees (and potential customers) look the table over and just walk on by. Either the artist is oblivious to the fact that his conversation is costing him customers, or he doesn’t care.

I probably should have said something, but I felt awkward about interrupting and so, ten minutes later, opted to move on. I never made it back to that table, as I found another artist and another author to support instead. I get that dealers at conventions are often fans too and want to socialize when they’re not busy, but they should also understand that TOO much socializing could very well cost them sales.