(I’m the manager of a coffee shop. I’ve gone home for the day, leaving a student employee minding the shop.  A few hours later, I get a call.)

Employee: “[Student Employee] hasn’t showed up.  He’s an hour late, and he isn’t answering his phone.  I have to leave in a few minutes for my evening class.”

(The student employee is notoriously lazy. However, he had just put in his two week’s notice the day before, and had assured me he would cover the rest of his shifts.  I come in to cover and try to contact the prodigal barista.  After leaving a voice mail on his cell, I call the number for his apartment, and reach his roommate.)

Student Employee’s Roommate: “Oh, yeah, he’s out. Here’s a number for someone he’s with.”

(I call the student employee’s friend’s number, and get the phone handed to him.)

Me: “[Student Employee], where are you? You were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Student Employee: “Oh, yeah…”

Me: “How soon can you be here?”

Student Employee: “Umm… I’m in [town about a 45-minute drive away].”

Me: “So you’ll be here in the next hour? I opened today, and I’m opening tomorrow; I’m not closing for you.”

Student Employee: “Ooh! I can’t come in. I’m too drunk to drive!”

Me: “Come see me before I open tomorrow.  We need to talk.”

(I end up closing the shop. While mopping, I psych myself up for my first ever experience with firing an employee. The student employee comes in about a half-hour after I open the shop the next morning.)

Me: “Are you sober?”

Student Employee: “Oh, I wasn’t really drinking; I just needed an excuse to get out of that shift. Thanks for covering me. What did you need to talk to me about?”

Me: “Thank you for making this process even easier…”

(Even after a 20 minute conversation, I don’t think he ever understood why he was being let go!)

Telemarketer: “Hello, I’m calling in regards to your [satellite TV company].”

Me: “Okay.”

Telemarketer: “Yes, [satellite TV company] will be moving some satellites and you will need additional equipment to continue your service.”

Me: “Uh, moving satellites?”

Telemarketer: “Yes, and we’re calling to—”

Me: “HOW exactly are you planning on doing this? There isn’t any reaction mass to shift geosync orbits of the satellites that much, and if there were, I’d just have to repoint.”

Telemarketer: “We’re doing this because we need additional—”

Me: “No, that is WHY. I asked specifically HOW.”

Telemarketer: “Uh.”

Me: “You say you’re with [satellite TV company]. If this is the case, what is my account number?

Telemarketer: “[My phone number], under the name [my wife's name].”

Me: “No, that’s the phone number you called. If you’re really with [satellite TV company], you’ll have access to my account number. What is it?”

Telemarketer: *click*

(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.)

(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?”

(My parents are on a long trip and have been away for four weeks. I am in their home to water the plants and take care of their mail.)

Me: “Hello (my name). You have come to [my parents' name].”

Telemarketer: “Is this [my mother's name]?”

Me: “No, it’s her daughter.”

Telemarketer: “This is a phone offer, so I would like to talk to [my mother's name].”

Me: “My mother is not home, and I’m pretty sure she is not interested in your offer.”

Telemarketer: “Well, I talked to her a while ago.”

(I know my mother, and she usually scolds phone salesmen when they call.)

Me: “When did you talk to her?”

Telemarketer: “…At the beginning of last week.”

Me: “Strange…”

Telemarketer: “She seemed interested.”

Me: “My parents have been away for four weeks. So it seems unlikely that you spoke to my mother last week.”

Telemarketer: *hangs up*

(He called back a week later when my parents were home again. My mother scolded him!)