Manager: “[Another manager] says you refused to help with the truck tonight.”

Me: “I didn’t refuse. I hurt my back while working in grocery.”

Manager: “How did you do that?”

Me: “I was lifting boxes of juice.”

Manager: “Well, maybe we should review your contract. You’re required to lift up to 25 pounds.”

Me: “But the boxes were more—”

Manager: “If you can’t lift that much, then you’ll have to be fired.”

(The manager continues for ten more minutes, reducing me to tears, before ordering me to help sort un-packed single items off the truck. He completely ignores that I am in immense pain. A week later, he comes up to me while I am speaking with my friends in electronics.)

Me: “By the way, I screwed up my back working in a department I wasn’t hired for and have to go to physical therapy twice a week for the next year.”

Manager: “Oh… um… sorry.” *leaves*

(After that, he was overbearingly nice to me. Apparently, he would get angry and yell at a lot of female employees, and then turn around and be overly nice to avoid being written up!)

(I arrive one day at work, and my boss, the owner of the bakery, sits down with me.)

Owner: “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

Me: “What? Why?”

Owner: “You’ve been late a few times.”

Me: “Once, and I called and told you it was because I had a flat tire on my bike.”

Owner: “Well, you also packed an order in a dirty box.”

Me: “What? When?”

Owner: “Last Tuesday. I have the complaint from the customer right here.”

Me: “I wasn’t here last Tuesday. And why are you only telling me this now?”

Owner: “Okay, but there’s also your hair, which you’ve been wearing unhygienically.”

Me: “When you told me I couldn’t have it just in a pony tail, I started putting it up in a bun like two months ago.”

Owner: “I’m sorry, but I have to look out for my business. It’s nothing personal.”

(I leave in tears. The next day, I come back in carrying a stack of papers.)

Owner: “What is that?”

Me: “This is all stuff from the Labour Relations Board. You owe me severance pay for terminating my employment without notice.”

Owner: “I don’t have to give you notice! You’re in a probationary period.”

Me: “I started exactly 95 days ago. Any way you slice it, that’s three months.”

Owner: “I had cause!”

Me: “Do you have a paper trail indicating that problems were occurring and I failed to rectify them in a reasonable period of time? Because I don’t remember seeing any write-ups.”

Owner: “I decide who works for me!”

Me: “Yes, and you owe either notice or severance when you decide to terminate without cause. Incidentally, you also owe me two hours’ pay for coming in yesterday.”

Owner: “This is ridiculous!”

Me: “If you’re not going to pay it, I’d be happy to let the LRB mediate the matter. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands.”

Owner: “Fine! I’ll mail you the cheque. Never come in here again!”

Me: “Sorry, but I have to look out for my job and my income. It’s nothing personal.”

(I’m trying to open a bank account for the first time. I have all the required items: two pieces of I.D., the money needed to open an account, and a letter from my employer as proof of address. At least, I thought I had everything.)

Teller: “Sorry, we cannot accept this as proof of address.”

Me: “Really? It’s a notarized letter from my employer on official stationary. What would be acceptable?”

Teller: “We need a bank statement as proof of address to open an account.”

Me: “A… bank statement?”

Teller: “Yes.”

Me: “How am I supposed to have a bank statement if I’ve never opened a bank account?”

Teller: “Sorry?”

Me: “I don’t have a bank statement because I can’t open an account. I can’t open an account because I don’t have a bank statement because I can’t open an account because I don’t have a bank statement… so on and so forth.”

Teller: *smiles and shrugs* “Okay?”

(I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to get her to understand the fallacy, but to no avail. The other teller was somewhat more helpful, but ultimately wasn’t able to do anything, either. I guess I’m never opening a bank account!)

(A coworker and I are at the customer service desk when a lady with a newborn baby comes in.)

Coworker and I: “Aww, what a cute baby!”

Lady: “Thanks!”

Me: “How old is he?”

Lady: “He is 13 days old.”

Coworker: “Has he opened his eyes yet?”

(The lady and I exchange glances and start laughing.)

Coworker: “What’s so funny?”

Me: “This is a baby, not a cat. They open their eyes at birth.”

Coworker: *dumbstruck* “Really?!”

(I am a Culinary student, currently working part time in a local restaurant whilst attending college. I have been head-hunted by another restaurant for a job I did not bother to apply for, but will pay more, and am attending the interview. Note: I have recently broken my leg and will be on crutches for the next three weeks.)

Interviewer: “Well, it’s really great to meet you. It’s clear you have a lot of potential, and we’d like to offer you a job.”

Me: “Oh, okay! Well, I’ll obviously not be able to work for another three weeks, like I said earlier. I’d be an insurance liability in a kitchen on crutches.”

Interviewer: “Well, we really need you to start on Friday.” (Note: This is Tuesday.)

Me: “This Friday? I can’t. As I’ve explained, I have a broken leg. I can’t really walk and I’ll be like this for the next few weeks.”

Interviewer: “Well, we are opening this Friday and we really need our staff to start then.”

Me: “Well, regardless of my leg, I couldn’t start on Friday anyway. As you know, I work in [other restaurant], and I would have to give notice before I left.”

Interviewer: “Couldn’t you just tell them you can’t work because of your leg, and come here on Friday instead?”

Me: “But I’m already on sick leave because I can’t work because I broke my leg.”

Interviewer: “Perfect! So you’ll start Friday?”

Me: “No. I can’t work ANYWHERE because I broke my leg.”

Interviewer: “So, let me get this straight: you’re refusing to be able to start on Friday?”

Me: “I don’t understand how you think I can make my leg be unbroken in three days.”

Interviewer: “Well, I can’t offer you the job unless you’re willing to come in on Friday. Can you start then?”

Me: *facepalm*

(Needless to say, I decided to stay in my old job!)