They Give Zero Hours, You Give Zero F***s

, , , | Working | March 21, 2018

(I work at a company that sells medical equipment. The moment my boss goes on maternity leave, the department is restructured and her job eliminated — a common work-around employers use in the UK to circumvent maternity rights. That restructuring has been catastrophic for the office, and people are leaving left, right, and centre, not that management have noticed any change but the savings. Many suspect they’re just trying to constructively dismiss the old guard on full-time contracts and replace us with zero-hours workers, a process which has already begun. I’m at the reception desk one day; this is not my job, but my team has gone from five to two people in a few weeks, and someone has to do it. A few colleagues come through.)

HR Worker: “Hi, [My Name].”

Me: “Hey, you all right?”

HR Worker: “Yeah. Still here. Are you?”

Me: “Yes?”

HR Worker: “Well, look at that. I honestly didn’t know you were still here.”

Me: *speechless*

HR Worker: “Ah, well. Determined to be the last man standing, are you?”

Me: *resolving to use company time to review my job applications the moment his back is turned* “Not exactly, no.”

This Cookie Has Cashed Out

, , , , , | Working | March 21, 2018

(I am picking up some subs from my local sub shop. The lady helping me seems a bit gruff, but I just shrug it off. Once she rings me up and hands me my bag, I notice a basket of cookies. On the cookies is a sign that reads, “If we don’t offer you a cookie, you get one for free!”)

Me: “Oh! I don’t think you offered me a cookie. Do I actually get one for free?”

Cashier: “I did offer you a cookie.”

Me: “You asked for my name and told me my total. You never offered me a cookie.”

Cashier: “What is with you people and always trying to scam me out of the d*** cookies?! They’re five-dollar cookies. Why can’t you just buy it yourself instead of trying to make me look bad?”

Me: “Wow. Well, the cookie wasn’t that important to me, but I would like to see the owner, please.”

Cashier: “Oh, really? Now you’re going to try and complain over a cookie? You people are the worst.”

Me: “Please get the owner.”

(The cashier grumbles and walks into a back room. She comes back about five minutes later with a young man.)

Young Man: “Hi, I’m the owner. My colleague here was telling me that you’re trying to get a free cookie and getting very agitated with her due to a misunderstanding. If you have your subs, I am going to ask that you leave and not come back.”

Me: “Congratulations, that sounded very professional. If I were someone else, I may have believed you. Now, please go get the owner.”

Cashier: “He just told you he is the owner! Just accept that you were wrong and get out of this store!”

(At this point I’m fed up, so I pull out my phone and call the owner, personally.)

Me: “Hi, sorry to call you while you’re working. Would you mind coming up front for a moment? I’m having a bit of an issue.”

(The cashier looks skeptical about my call, but the owner comes out in less than a minute. The cashier looks horrified as I explain what happened. She tries to cut in a few times, but the owner shushes her.)

Owner: “[Young Man], is this all true?”

Young Man: “I’m so sorry, sir. I just went along with it because she said she felt like she was in danger, and we didn’t want to bother you while you were in the office.”

Owner: “[Cashier]! How could you do something like this?”

Cashier: “I don’t understand why you believe her! She’s just some b**** off the street, and I’m a loyal employee. You should believe me!”

Owner: “You have been here for a week, and this girl is my daughter!”

(The cashier pales and starts to try and sputter out a response as the owner takes her into the back. She comes out crying and shoves past me on the way out, glaring daggers at me. The owner comes back out to apologize and say she has been fired.)

Me: “Well, Dad, do I get my free cookie now?”

Owner: “Don’t call me ‘Dad.’ It’s weird! Here. Take a few cookies for your family, as well. Tell them I said, ‘Hi!’”

(The owner was a well-known volunteer in our community, and often worked with my family on different projects. Of course, I didn’t mind being his daughter for a few minutes to get those cookies! They were delicious.)

A Cents-less Amount Of Confusion

, , , , , , , | Working | March 20, 2018

(I supervise the registers at a popular home goods store. One day, two employees are running the customer service registers, where people can also check out, and I’m directing traffic and basically cleaning up the messes that are everywhere. My two coworkers are [Cashier #1], a 19-year-old who has run a register for six months or so, and [Cashier #2], a 30-something who has worked for the company longer than I have and is technically my peer, though I’m always teaching her things. I’m finishing up with one customer when I realize that both my coworkers are standing by the same register.)

Me: “What’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

Cashier #2: “I can’t figure out the change to give her. I put it in wrong.”

(I look at the receipt that’s sitting on the counter. It says that the customer bought one item, the total was $6.28, and the customer paid $6.30.)

Me: “How much money did she actually give you?”

Cashier #2: “$6.35.”

Me: *not sure I heard that right* “So, she gave you five cents more than you put in the cash register?”

Cashier #2: “Yes.”

Me: “Then you give her five cents more than the cash register tells you to give.”

Cashier #2: *blank look*

Me: “Did you give her the two cents from the receipt?”

Cashier #2: “No, because I knew it wasn’t right!”

Me: “Okay, well, she gave you five cents more than the receipt says she gave you, so you give her five cents more than the register says to give her.”

Cashier #2: *same blank look*

Me: “Seven cents.”

(In the end, I have to reach into her register to pull the change out for the poor customer. After she leaves, the other cashier drops this line.)

Cashier #1: “I couldn’t figure it out, either, so I told her just to void the transaction.”

Me: “Wait, what? Did we re-ring it?”

Cashier #1: “I don’t know.”

(We counted the cashier’s drawer and, sure enough, it was over by $6.28. We still had the receipt from the return, so we were able to re-ring the purchase to even out her drawer and our inventory. The worst part is that not only did two grown women not know how to “fix” a five-cent mistake, but the older one is actually a teacher by day!)

Not So Five-Alive

, , , , | Working | March 20, 2018

(My work is hiring for both grocery and cashier positions. It is eight pm, and I’m working on the floor in grocery. A man in his twenties approaches me, carrying a resume. I’m a woman, also in my twenties.)

Job Seeker: “I need to see your manager.”

Me: “We have a manager-on-duty at the moment.”

Job Seeker: *gets a little snippy* “Are you saying he can’t see me?! Why isn’t he here?”

Me: “He was here before five am. He is probably sleeping right now, because he’ll be back here tomorrow at five am, again!”

Job Seeker: *looking a little ashamed* “Oh, I have a resume to hand in.”

Me: “If you go up to customer service, they will give you an application to fill out and attach to it. You can leave both with them.”

(He ran off without another word.)

Someone Brought Home The Bacon

, , , , | Working | March 20, 2018

(My friend and I go to a popular fast food chain known for its breakfast sandwiches. My friend orders a sausage and egg breakfast sandwich. The clerk goes to work making his sandwich, and then this happens.)

Clerk: “I’m sorry, sir; it appears we’re out of sausage. Is it okay if we use bacon, instead?”

Friend: “Sure.”

Clerk: “I’m sorry, sir; it appears we’re out of eggs. Is it okay if we use bacon, instead?”

Friend: “Um… Okay.”

(As expected, his sausage and egg breakfast sandwich became just a mass of bacon on an English muffin. We just sat there bewildered at how a restaurant that specializes in breakfast can run out of sausage and eggs!)

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