Infinitely Loopy, Part 4

| Working | November 21, 2012

Employee #1: “Hi, my name’s Chris. How can I help you today?”

Me: “Hi, I was wondering how to get on to my online banking account. It’s acting weird.”

Employee #1: “Okay, can I get your information?”

Me: *gives her my information*

Employee #1: “Okay, [my name]. I’ll get you started. Unfortunately, this isn’t my area of expertise, so I’m going to transfer you to [different branch]. Please hold…”

(20 minutes pass.)

Employee #2: “Hi, [my name]. My name’s Thomas. How can I help you?”

Me: “Yes, I was directed to you for help with my online banking account, because it’s—”

Employee #2: “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that. Let me transfer you to someone that can help you.”

Me: “Wait, but—” *elevator music begins playing*

(30 minutes pass.)

Employee #3: “Hi! What can I help you with, [my name]?”

Me: “I’m just trying to find someone to help me with my online bank—”

Employee #3: “Yeah, I’m going to have to transfer you. No one in this department knows how to handle that.”

Me: “No, wait, I just—” *elevator music plays again*

(10 minutes pass. This time, a familiar voice picks up.)

Employee #1: “Hi, my name’s Chris. How can I help you?”


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Receipting You Loud And Clear

| Working | November 21, 2012

(Note: the owners of the bakery where I work tend to drop-in unannounced to nitpick the employees.)

Owner: “You always give them a receipt.”

My Boss: “They don’t want their receipts. They’ve told us that. When we do hand them a receipt, they just drop it on the floor on their way out, and we have to take the time to go clean them up.”

Owner: “I don’t care. They must always be given a receipt. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

(When the next customer comes through the line, the owner rings him up. She tries to give it back to the owner.)

Customer: “I don’t need my receipt. Thanks.”

Owner: “No, you have to take it!”

Customer: *crumples receipt into a ball, throws it on the floor, and walks out of store*

Owner: *turns red*

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Got A Sinking Feeling About This

| Working | November 21, 2012

Me: “Hi [coworker], I lost my keys. Could you take this mop bucket and dump it in the sink in the cleaning cupboard for me, please? I want to go see if [other coworker] picked mine up by mistake.”

Coworker: “What do you want me to do with it?”

Me: “Dump it in the sink in the cleaning cupboard.”

Coworker: “Where do you want me to pour it?”

Me: “In the sink in the cleaning cupboard in the toilets.”

Coworker: “You want me to pour it down the toilet?”

Me: “No, the sink in the cleaning cupboard BEHIND the toilets.”

Coworker: “Oh, okay! I’ll pour it down the toilet sinks.”

Me: “…No, the sink in the cleaning cupboard.”

Coworker: “Which cupboard?”

Me: “The one in the back of the toilets!”

Coworker: “Oh, okay! The sink in the cleaning cupboard at the back of the toilets!”

Me: “YES!”

(Five seconds later…)

Coworker: “What did you want me to do again?”

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No Pay Is Worth This Kind Of Pain

| Working | November 21, 2012

(Note: at the coffee shop where I work, the manager is the father of the assistant manager, who is his daughter. I’m calling in sick as I’ve been in injured in a car accident and am hospitalized.)

Me: “Hi, [assistant manager], it’s [my name]. I’m so sorry, but I’m in the hospital.”

Assistant Manager: “What? You don’t work today.”

Me: “I know, but I was hit by a car and have a concussion. I can’t make it in tomorrow, but I should be okay on Sunday if I just work in the back.”

Assistant Manager: “What? Are you kidding?” *talks in the background* “Nah, don’t worry about it. Don’t come in.”

Me: “Are you sure? Okay, thank you! I’ll be in Monday, the usual time, okay?”

Assistant Manager: “No.”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Assistant Manager: “No. If you come in on Monday, turn in your uniform and don’t come back.”

Me: *speechless*

Assistant Manager: “You’re so full of bulls***.” *hangs up*

(I still come by that Monday, not sure what to expect. I’m in a neck brace and limping slightly.)

Manager: *sees me and gasps*

Assistant Manager: *rolls her eyes* “Whatever…”

(I didn’t care to deal with these jerks anymore, so I tossed my uniform on the counter, flipped the assistant manager the bird, and limped out.)

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Keep Your Head High And Your Expectations Hire

| Working | November 20, 2012

(I am applying at a local nursing home for a job. While I am waiting in the lobby for my interview, I see an elderly woman fall to the ground. A nurse helps her up and sits her on a bench, but leaves the elderly woman unattended while she goes to get a wheelchair. The elderly woman, who is bleeding from the eye and clearly disoriented, gets up to walk again. Being the only other person other than the residents around, I try to coax her back to her seat to prevent her from falling again. At this moment, the manager comes out to get me for my interview.)

Manager: “Miss [my name]? Come with me, please.”

Me: “Um, the nurse has just gone to get this woman’s wheel chair. She just&mash;”

Manager: “Well, yes then. Come with me, please.”

Me: “Well, shouldn’t we—”

(The manager is walking away at this point and the other nurse has arrived with the wheelchair, so I reluctantly leave the woman and follow the manager. We get into the office and the manager closes the door and stares at me.)

Manager: “Well, first of all, I’m going to let it go that you were so rude to me just then.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Manager: “You’re here for a job, and you start barking orders at me to get the patient a wheelchair. I felt that this was very rude and unprofessional.”

Me: “I’m… I’m really so sorry. I had absolutely no intentions of being rude to you. That patient had just fallen on the floor and was bleeding. The nurse told her to stay seated until she came with her wheelchair. I was just trying to make you aware of it because I didn’t want to leaver the poor dear and risk her falling again. She was bleeding!”

Manager: “Yes, well, and that’s another thing! You keep calling her ‘poor thing’ and a ‘patient.’ Here, we call them ‘residents’ or ‘clients.’ And don’t ever call them ‘poor’-anything, because you’ll insult them.”

Me: “I’m so sorry.”

Manager: “Well, it’s fine. I know sometimes you teenagers don’t know how to conduct yourselves in a proper manner in the work place or with people in authority. It’s to be expected, but you’d better shape up fast.”

(Note: I am 23 years old, married, have 2 children, and have been working since I was 15 years old. However, I choose to let that remark go. After 10 minutes, I realize she is basically looking to hire me on for the summer to work the shifts that she and her coworkers want off. This leaves me as the sole person in the building on certain nights, such as Canada Day.)

Manager: “So, you would be working probably 6 pm to 2 am Canada Day night. You understand that, right?”

Me: “Yes. We were only planning to take the children out in the afternoon anyhow.”

Manager: “…Children? How old are you?”

Me: “I’m old enough to to married with a 5 and 7 year old, and old enough to have been in the work force full time for the past 8 years.”

Manager: “Well, anyway… um… do you feel comfortable handing out medications? Like, to the residents?”

Me: “Well, I’m not certified to, but if we’re talking aspirin and laxatives, I could probably handle that.”

Manager: “Alright, you can start tomorrow night. You’ll be distributing medication to all the residents by yourself on the first night…”

(Despite this offer, I decide after leaving the interview that I really want nothing to do with that establishment. Thankfully, I ace my second interview for another job, and call the first manager to let her know I didn’t want their job.)

Manager: “Why may I ask have you changed your mind?”

Me: “Well, first off, I felt that your lack of concern for your residents was appalling. Your resident was bleeding and clearly confused and you were willing to leave her unattended because you felt I had been rude to you by trying to inform you of the situation. Secondly, you reprimanded me and accused me of being a disrespectful teenager. If you had actually bothered to look at my resume, you would have seen that I have been in the workforce for several years and am out of high school, making your statement unfounded. Thirdly, I felt that you were a little too eager to hire a ‘disrespectful teenager’ with a poor work ethic and zero medical certifications to stay alone with and distribute medications to residents all so that you and your coworkers could enjoy your summer holidays. So, thank you for your time and consideration, but for those reasons I don’t want to be a member of your company or be affiliated with you in anyway.”

Manager: “Yeah, well… don’t even THINK about using us as a reference on your resume!”

Me: “I wouldn’t if I could. Have a nice night.”

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