(I am looking for a job around my town, armed with printouts of my CV doing an old school “door knock.” I’m not having much luck; however, most places have been nice and are kind enough to take my resumé in the hopes that “something may come up.” I’m down to my last resumé when I try the local newsagency. An older woman is behind the counter.)

Me: “Hi, I was wondering if—”

Worker: *rudely interrupting* “We’re not hiring and if you give us that resume I see in your hand it’s just going to go straight into the bin!”

Me: *a tad shocked, but hastily put on a smile* “Okay, thanks anyway!”

(I turn away to exit the shop thinking I probably dodged a bullet there anyway, when I hear her call me back.)

Worker: “Hang on! How old are you, by the way?”

(I smile, as I know exactly what she is doing. In my country, workers are paid a minimum wage not just by industry, but by age as well. A 15-year-old working in a newsagency, for example, would have to be paid at least $12-14 an hour under the retail award rate, but a 21-year-old would have to be paid at least $20-23 an hour. For this reason a lot of employers don’t like hiring older people, and often turn them away for their younger, much cheaper-to-hire counterparts. Despite this, it is still illegal to discriminate against age and it is illegal to ask any prospective employees their age or date of birth. I am in my early 20s, therefore “expensive” to hire, but I look much younger then my age, with people always thinking I’m in my mid teens. She probably thinks I’m only around 16-17 years old. It is perfectly acceptable to decline answering a question about age, as I do here.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable answering that.”

Worker: “Look, it’s ok to admit your age. I’m not going to judge. Just tell me, then I might be able to have a look at your resume and see if we have something.”

Me: “I’m not going to tell you my age. I don’t have to and I don’t want to. Thank you for maybe considering my resume if I’m a certain age, but I’m going to have to decline. Thanks again.”

(I go to leave, when I hear an angry outburst behind me.)

Worker: “FINE! I wouldn’t even want to accept some pathetic high school drop-out anyway! There’s too many of you in this god-**** town and the reason why is because all you teenagers are the same: f****** lazy little f***s!”

(Angry, I march up to the counter.)

Me: “First off, I’m in my early 20s. Secondly, I am no high school drop-out. I have been working since I was legally able to at 15 all while finishing school and probably far more capable then you are. For starters, I actually know how to treat people, including job-hunters that could also be customers in the store. I couldn’t care less if you offered me $100 dollars an hour for this job. I would hate to work alongside a vile co-worker such as yourself, and if you are the manager I have a lot more self-respect then to take orders from you. I think I’ve done the right thing to decline your offer. Now, thank you for time. You’ve shown me what kind of worker you are and should avoid. Have a nice day.”

(I work at a 24 hour pharmacy/convenience store. We use scanner guns, or ‘symbols,’ to locate items, determine inventory, etc. Our store has five symbols, and while I’m very careful not to leave mine unattended, as my manager has told me not to many times in the past, some of the other employees are a bit blasé about it. One day I’m taken off register to start hanging sale signs. I notice the girl who has replaced me on register left her symbol on a stock cart in an aisle, so I pick it up and put it on my sign cart, not wanting to leave it unattended. I see another abandoned cart with a symbol, this one belonging to my supervisor who had gone up ten or fifteen minutes earlier to help a customer. I do the same with this one, as I figured he would be a while and he could just grab it back from me later. I see yet ANOTHER symbol left in a crate of stock that a coworker had been working on before her shift ended. I grab that one, too, and finish up my signs. I head up front to throw away some trash, and bump into my supervisor. At this point I have four of the five symbols our store has on my cart.)

Supervisor: *looks at the symbols, then at me* “Wha…?”

Me: “I’ve been collecting.”

(I am the hiring manager for a fast food restaurant and we are seriously understaffed. Our application process is done online and I am calling applicants for an interview. An applicant answers one of my calls.)

Applicant: *rudely* “Yeah.”

Me: “I’m calling for [Applicant].”

Applicant: *back-pedaling* “Oh, yes, this is her.”

Me: “Thanks, but never mind.”

(Five minutes later, the store phone rings.)

Applicant: “Hi, you just called me and I just wanted to say how sorry I am for answering my phone that way. I just saw the prefix and thought it was my grandmother. I swear I’d never answer the phone that way again.”

Me: *thinking who would speak to their grandmother in such a way* “You should think about how you answer your phone if you’re looking for a job. I happen to be the hiring manager and the way you answered concerns me that you have attitude and no respect for others for the type of business that we are.”

Applicant: “I truly am sorry. I really am interested in a job.”

Me: “If you can be here at 4:00 pm this afternoon, I will speak with you and see if you would be a good fit.”

(Fast forward to 4:00 pm and the applicant doesn’t show up for her interview. At 4:45 the store phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. How can I help you?”

Applicant: “Hi, this is [Applicant] and I was supposed to be there at 4 o’clock but I’ve had a lot going on with family and I was really tired so I took a nap. I’m so sorry that I did not make it to my interview. Can I come in a different time? I really, really, really need a job.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I really needed you to be here at your scheduled appointment. I will not reschedule. Good luck in your job search.”

(Where do these people come from?)

(Our bakery offers heart-shaped cookies in celebration of the Valentine’s season. One morning, we arrive to set up everything for the public and discover our baker has festively iced all the valentines, except for a few that obviously fell apart during the bake. She’s left us a cheerful note indicating these pieces are “Snacks!”)

Manager: *bemused* “I… I don’t even know what to say about this.”

Baker: “I guess today we feast on broken hearts!”

This story is part of the Valentine’s Day 2024 roundup!

Read the next story!

Read the roundup!

(My coworker is listening to the Aladdin soundtrack while shelving shoes.)

Me: “Did you ever see the sequel?”

Coworker: “We don’t talk about the sequel.”

Me: “Aw, it wasn’t that bad. It just had a budget more like the TV series, so it was more like a TV episode than a movie.”

Coworker: “We also don’t talk about the TV series.”

Me: “Hey, at least it was better than the Little Mermaid TV series.”

Coworker: “We don’t talk about that either!”