(My manager and I are interviewing a young lady with a very impressive resume. Since the job she is applying for is a cashier/floor merchandiser position in a bilingual town, we ask a few mandatory questions.)

Manager: “So, this job requires climbing a lot of ladders. How do you feel about climbing ladders?”

New Hire: “Oh! That’s not a problem for me. I climb ladders at home all the time!”

Manager: “Really? Some of them are really high.”

(My manager motions to a very tall ladder just outside the office in the stock room.)

New Hire: “No, really it’s not a problem. I LOVE heights!”

Me: “Well, how good are your math skills? Our cashiers here count their own tills and occasionally have to calculate the customer’s change mentally. We also do our own inventory counts daily and it requires a lot of adding and multiplication.”

New Hire: “I am excellent in math! My teachers always said I was the BEST in the class! I’m always doing math at home!”

Manager: “Right… well, how are your French skills? Half of our clientele is French-speaking and it’s important we are able to serve them to the best of our abilities.”

New Hire: “Oh my God, yes! I love French! I speak it all the time. My family is French, actually. Sometimes I even think in French.”

(We feel that she is a bit overly enthusiastic about her answers, but we attribute that to nervousness and get her paperwork filed. A week later, it’s her first day of work.)

Me: “Okay, [New Hire], I need you to grab those two cases from the riser. We’re going to work in—”

New Hire: “Woah! Wait! I don’t do ladders. You never said anything about ladders!”

Me: “Umm, I’m pretty sure we went over this in your interview. Remember, you told us you climb ladders at home all the time?”

New Hire: “What?! I said that?! I don’t even own a ladder. Anyway, I’m deathly afraid of heights. I’m not touching that ladder.”

(Note: it’s only a three foot step ladder.)

Me: “Okay, I’ll just get the boxes then. We’ll figure something out for dealing with the ladders.”

(Later that same day, another employee who is training the new hire on the cashes approaches my manager and me.)

Coworker: “Hey guys, I know you wanted me training [new hire] on the cash, but she just refused to work the cash based on the fact that she has a learning disability. She says she has dyslexia for numbers and count count or use numbers.”

Me: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Manager: “You know, right before she went on her dinner, a French-speaking lady asked her, ‘Do you speak French?’ and she had no clue what the lady was saying. Apparently, she grew up in Toronto and never spoke a word of French before.”

Me: “This girl is killing me.”

Coworker: “I give her a week.”

(After a week has passed, the new hire has grown close to me and will only listen to me, but it is clear that she just wasn’t working out. We finally let her go eight days after starting. The next day, she calls our work.)

Fired New Hire: “Hey, where is the welfare office?”

Me: “Just up the street from us, I believe. Just look them up on the internet and—”

Fired New Hire: “Because I’m going to apply for disability. I’m retarded.”

Me: “…Uh, you are what?”


Fired New Hire: “I’m retarded. My doctor said so. I’m going to go get disability.”

Me: “Well, good luck to you then. But you do know that you need documentation, right? From a specialist?”

Fired New Hire: “Well, he did SAY I was retarded.”

(At this point, I hear a man, who turns out to be her boyfriend, in the back ground.)

Her Boyfriend: “You’re NOT retarded!”

Fired New Hire: *ignores her boyfriend* “Well anyway, I’m going to get my disability now. But, if that doesn’t work, I have a job interview tomorrow morning.”

Me: “Okay. Well as I said, the best of luck to you.”

(I hear a scuffle and her boyfriend comes on the phone.)

Her Boyfriend: “My girlfriend is not retarded. She’s just stupid and wouldn’t know the truth if it bit her in the butt. Please don’t let her quit. I know she’s one of your best, and—”

Me: “Look, sir, she doesn’t work here anymore. We let her go yesterday. I’m not even sure why she called me today.”

Her Boyfriend: “D*** it all to h***! I’m so sorry.” *hangs up*

(The next day, she calls back again and gets my manager. She asks to speak to me again.)

Fired New Hire: “So, I didn’t get disability. They said I wasn’t retarded enough and laughed at me. I think I’ll sue them for slander. My boyfriend is a lawyer, you know.”

Her Boyfriend: “I’m not a f***ing lawyer! I work at a gas station! Get your head out of you a**!”

Fired New Hire: *ignores her boyfriend* “But it’s okay. I got the job I interviewed for today. When I told them I’d been the assistant manager at your store they hired me on the spot! I start Monday!”

Me: “Um, honey I’m the assistant manager here. I have been for three years. You just lied to get that job and openly told me. Why are you even still calling me?”

Fired New Hire: “Oh, that is your job, isn’t it? Um… they don’t actually check references, do they? Because I put you and [manager] as my references.”

Me: “I’m hanging up now.”

(Thankfully they did call to check her references, something we should have done to begin with. Turns out she was a pathological liar who’d done the same thing to multiple companies in the area. Last I heard, she is receiving social assistance and working 10 hours a week at her boyfriend’s cash station. She still calls periodically to “chat” with me.)

Coworker: “I hate working on Tuesday… that’s sign change night.”

Me: *joking* “Maybe I should tell [manager] that you’re bad at sign changes, so you’ll never be scheduled to work those nights!”

Coworker: “…but If I had every Tuesday off, I’d never get another day off.”

Me: “Sure you would. You always get two days off.”

Coworker: “Nuh-uh. I’ve been working five days every week.”

Me: “How many days do you think there are in a week?”

Coworker: “I know there’s seven days in a regular week, but not in our work week.”

Me: “…How?”

Coworker: “It’s from Sunday to Saturday.”

Me: “Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday… that’s seven days.”

Coworker: “Oh. I guess I get two days off, then…”

Customer: “Excuse me, but the back corner of the store is dark, and the lights are off.”

Me: “Oh! Give me a bit and I’ll go see what the issue is.”

(I go to the back room to see what’s up. As I get closer, I hear laughing, I open the door and see Coworker #1 and Coworker #2 laughing and holding an inflatable ball.)

Coworker #2: “Hi [me], we’re playing back room volleyball!”

(I don’t say anything and lean over and flip the light switch back on.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, s***! How long has that been off?!”

(My dad is an IT guy for a large office. One evening, my mother comes in to pick him up.)

Dad: “Sorry, I can’t leave right now.”

Mom: “Oh?”

Dad: “The entire network in the building is down. There is a server in the basement which requires a keyboard, and it has mysteriously vanished.”

Mom: “Alright, I’ll find somewhere to sit down.”

(My mother finds one of my father’s coworkers. He says that since the network is down, he can’t get much work done, so she might as well sit down and have a chat. So she does. Then she notices a keyboard hanging in the open window.)

Mom: “Why do you have a keyboard there?”

Dad’s Coworker: “Oh, I spilled coffee on it. I just put it there to dry.”

Mom: “Then, where did that keyboard come from?”

(My mom points to the keyboard dad’s coworker is currently using.)

Dad’s Coworker: “Oh, I found it in the basement, by the server. Nobody was using it, so I figured I might as well grab it.”

Mom: “…”

(I work with a pair of identical twins for the overstock night shift. They know I’m atheist, so they’ve made it their business to preach their religion at me non-stop.)

Twin #1: “So, [my name], you think about what we said on Tuesday?”

Me: “Not really.”

Twin #1: “Come on, man. This is important stuff.”

Twin #2: “Yeah. You wanna go to h***?”

Me: “Nope.”

Twin #1: “I mean, I just don’t get you.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Twin #1: “If you don’t believe in God, where do you get your morals from?”

Me: “Uh…”

Twin #2: “Yeah. The only way to know right from wrong is with God.”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

Twin #1: “Well, it’s still true, dude. It doesn’t matter what you think.”

Twin #2: “Right. You should… hang on.”

(Twin #2 gets a call on his cell phone and answers it. He turns away from his brother and me but keeps standing there.)

Twin #1: “[My name], dude, do you think murder and rape are okay?”

Me: “No.”

Twin #1: “Well, that’s God, man. The only way you know that stuff is not okay is God.”

Twin #2: *on the phone* “…You picked up my bike okay? No problems getting it? Cool…”

Twin #1: “How about lying? Or stealing? You think it’s okay to do that?”

Me: “No.”

Twin #2: *on the phone* “..You think you could roll back the odometer about 5,000 miles…”

Twin #1: “Well, it was God who said lying and stealing are wrong, man. It’s right there in the Bible.”

Twin #2: *on the phone* “…Yeah, I know. But I’ve got somebody coming out to look at it and he said he didn’t want it if it was too used…”

Twin #1: “So you KNOW that stuff like killing and raping and lying and stealing and being a racist and all that stuff is wrong. How do you explain how that’s wrong without God?”

Twin #2: *on the phone* “…Oh yeah, you think you could paint over the rust on the brakes and the engine block, too? I’m pretty sure I could get at least two grand more out of this guy…”

Twin #1: “God is righteous, [my name]. He’s going to punish people for doing all that stuff. You don’t want to go to Hell, do you?”

Twin #2: *on the phone* “…Also, I think the front tire has a hole in it. No, no, don’t patch it. Just put more air in it. It only has to look full until the guy buys it…”

Me: “Wait, wait, wait. Are you guys listening to each other here?”

Both Twins: “What do you mean?”