(I’m taking a break in the staff room with some coworkers. Note: I’m a lesbian.)

Coworker #1: “Oh, man, you know who’d I go gay for? Anderson Cooper.”

Coworker #2: “Yeeees. He is a silver fox.”

Coworker #3: “I’d go gay for Neil Patrick Harris in a heartbeat.”

Coworker #1: “Hey, [my name], who would you go gay for?”

Me: *laughs* “Well, if I had to go straight, I think I’d go for Anderson Cooper, too.”

Coworker #2: “Um, he asked who you’d go gay for.”

Me: “Oh, I don’t have to go gay for anyone. I’m already there.”

(Coworker #2 stares blankly at me for a bit until Coworker #1 speaks up.)

Coworker #1: “Dude, she’s a lesbian! Let her go straight for someone! Jesus!”

(I am in an interview at a second-hand clothing store, and I have just moved home from college.)

Interviewer: “So your job at [business]… why did you leave that position?”

Me: “Well, I went to college.”

Interviewer: “That’s no reason to quit a job. Why couldn’t you work and attend school?”

Me: “As you can see on my resume, my college was in Sudbury.”

Interviewer: “So? ”

Me: “…It’s a five hour drive north of here.”

Manager: “Stop helping!”

Me: “What?”

Manager: “You need to stop helping!”

Me: “With what?”

Manager: “Everything!”

Me: “Um… why?”

Manager: “[Employee] has only worked here three weeks and he talks nonstop about how you’re such a good worker. So, you need to stop helping!”

Me: “Why not just tell him to stop?”

Manager: “I tried that. All he does is talk about how good of a worker you are… and a little bit about the Avengers, which he hasn’t even seen.”

Me: “Okay…”

Manager: “Stop helping!”

(This takes place after Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 has just come out.)

Associate #1: “Hello, thank you for calling [department store]. This is [name] from electronics. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, I was wondering if you had any copies of the new Modern Warfare 2 game in stock for Xbox 360? If so, would you be able to hold it for three hours, so I can pop over after my shift? ”

Associate #1: “We sure do! We just got a shipment today, and we hold for 24 hours! I’ll just need some info from you and it’ll be waiting underneath the till!”

(I give my info and she repeats everything back to me exactly. After my shift, I go over to pick it up.)

Me: “My name is [name] and I called earlier and spoke to [associate]. She said she put a copy of Modern Warfare 2 for Xbox on hold for me.”

Associate #2: “Uh are you sure? We don’t have any in stock.”

Me: “Yes. She said you had plenty, and it was waiting for me.”

Associate #2: “I’m going to grab my manager for this.”

(He leaves and comes back with another, much older male.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Me: “I called earlier and spoke to [associate] about putting this game on hold. She took my info, repeated everything back to me exactly, and said you had some in stock and it would be here to pick up.”

Manager: “That’s impossible! There’s no notes left indicating anyone was coming in for anything. This is the busiest time of the year and we’re currently not doing holds, and to top that off, we sold out a week ago and won’t have any in for another few days.”

Me: “We’ll, this was a waste of time.”

Manager: “It’s not our fault you believed her!”

(Fuming and upset, I go to another store. Fortunately they have a copy. However, as I’m paying, lo and behold the cashier is the SAME associate I spoke to on the phone at the first store I visited. Apparently, this is her second job.)

Associate #1: *sheepishly* “That was me. I’m sorry. I confused the stock from both stores and thought we had some there, when it’s this store that has it.”

Me: “But you took my info and said you put it under the till?”

Associate #1: “I was so sure I had it, and was going to grab it after. When I found out we didn’t have it, I was too embarrassed to call back!”

(I later found out the associate was fired from one of the stores for continuously messing up orders, and confusing each stores stocks, policies and computer systems.)

(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.)