I'm Done! People Share What Made Them Quit Their Job On The Very First Day
Money makes the world go round. You need it to survive and sometimes what you have to do to get it isn't pretty. Sometimes though, we are find ourselves in situations that are so bad that even the money isn't even worth it.
Below are stories of people who have found themselves in just that situation.
I've worked for quite a few temp agencies. I was really good at it and liked it. One wanted to send me to a funeral home. They said, "It's just the front desk, you are answering phones and things. You just have to be like a Receptionist. But we're having a hard time filling this one because, of it's location so it's $2 dollars over the regular pay."
I was in like Flynn. I could deal with funeral things going on near me and just answering some phones.
I get there, and yup, there's phone answering. Oh, and body moving to bring them "from the back" where they're "stored" to the room where the reception is going to be. Also, I'd have to "touch up" the makeup one last time before the family arrives and make sure the arms were crossed as they should be and all of that.
Now, I may have actually been able to do some deep introspection and decide that I could handle the slight handling of dead bodies and said "Okay, give me the job." But to tell me I'm going to be answering some phones and then all of a sudden I'm pushing around dead bodies?
That ain't cool, man.
I got a job working on the bins; going around in the truck and picking up trash around town. On my first day I was assigned to my crew, who turned out to all be marathon runners who used the job to train. The driver would drive around town, never stopping. The crew would run alongside non stop for 8 hours, throwing the trash in as we went.
I am a big guy. I am not designed to run for 8 hours. I almost died about 10 times.
Fantastic guys, top blokes, but no thanks. I made my excuses at the end of the shift and never went back. I got some contract work at a factory instead the next day.
I was hired to work the grill at a fast food restaurant.
I had to wake up at 3AM to report for my shift on time. The Manager said my face was not clean shaven enough. They sent me to the bathroom to shave with disposable razors - where I cut my face several times. Finally, I made it to the grill where it was crazy all morning. I was there until 1PM, so it was a 10-hour shift on my feet with no break. I was absolutely unable to keep up and my co-workers were aloof and unhelpful. I also burned my hand on the grill badly trying to pull two frozen patties apart.
I punched out at the end of my shift and realized I would have to repeat the nightmare again tomorrow. I went right to the manager and said I would not be coming back.
I worked at a big box electronics store with the signature colors of blue and yellow for one day. It was made clear to me during that shift that they didn't care about the employees.
I was told during the interview that we would be there until midnight or 1AM at the latest. While unloading the truck, it got to be about 12:30AM and we were only 60-70% done. I asked the other employees and the manager what time we'd be finished and they said probably closer to 2:30 or 3AM. I had class the next morning and for the rest of the semester at 8AM.
I just said,"I need to leave the store, can you unlock it and let me out?"
The Manager said,"Why?"
I responded,"Because I'm quitting and want to go home, I have class in a few hours."
"Oh, Okay I guess." The Manager answered.
I now work for a different privately owned electronics and appliances store for more money and with much cooler people.
I went to an agency that said they were sending me to a "Packaging Plant" - It wasn't. It was a place where turkeys arrived in trucks and left in boxes.
I knew I was in trouble when I could smell the place at least a mile away. The agency was kind enough to give me a ride in... and now I know why. If I was driving my own vehicle I would have "noped" in record time.
As soon as I assembled with the rest of the temps, I was offered a singular but very puzzling honor. I was given a rain suit. You've seen them: the cheap canary yellow slicker, pants, and yes, even the hat. My curiosity was soon to be satisfied.
I was tasked with removing the turkeys from the truck.
Now there's two things you need to understand about turkeys. First, they are the most incredibly stupid creatures imaginable, and second, they are poop factories. They've been fattened up for market, have been stuffing themselves with whatever vile sustenance turkeys eat, and what goes in, comes out.
When I reached into the cage and picked one up by the feet, they would struggle and flap their wings, and would become a Turk-O Turkey Poop Aerial Distribution System.
NOW you know why they gave me a rain suit.
After 10 minutes of this I wanted to say, "Screw you, I am out of here!" Unfortunately, I couldn't because, it was 40 miles out of town. If I quit, there goes my ride. I could have called for a rescue, but I already smelled so awful I couldn't subject the vehicle of anyone I know with that aroma.
So I stuck with it until, by some absolute miracle, someone came out and said, "We need somebody to work inside." Did I mention that this was on an outdoor dock, in December, in Canada?
"Oooh, ooh, pick me, pick me!!" and they did. I was finally off the dock and no longer had to deal with poop-spraying turkeys. Nothing could be worse than that.
I should have known I was in trouble when they didn't ask for the rain suit back.
Now, Imagine all these discs in this machine, spinning rapidly, and knocking the feathers off the birds. Now imagine each of the turkeys as still half-full and being furiously beaten in a tunnel. Imagine the cloud emanating from that tunnel, an aeration of water, damp feathers, blood, and turkey poop.
You might, at a long stretch, be able to imagine it, but I assure you, you cannot imagine the stench. You may have driven past a slaughterhouse and caught a whiff. That's the difference between catching a hint of cheap cologne, and having a 5-gallon bucket of it poured over your head. This was the source. the fount of the hideous miasma that blanketed the countryside and I was the lucky chap that was right where the birds exited the tunnel. I was bathed in a continuous mist of this most disgusting of substances. In my eyes, my hair, my mouth. It was inescapable.
My important and crucial task was using a pair of needle-nosed pliers, to remove the stumps of feathers that had broken, rather than ripped, out of the carcass. I remained there for another 5 hours, in a place where minutes felt like centuries.
When I returned home, I was grateful to be living in a high-rise apartment. The stench had permeated every fiber of my clothing, my body, and my soul. I removed the clothes, bagged them for disposal, and placed a plastic lawn chair in the shower, where I remained for the next 90 minutes, frantically scrubbing myself raw. Thank God for apartment buildings and their endless hot water.
I had made it home about 6PM, and at 8PM, the phone rang. It was the agency, calling to let me know that tomorrow we were going to be starting 2 hours early and I needed to be at the office for 5:30AM, not 7:30AM. I don't recall exactly how I responded, but I do recall impressing myself with my masterful command of profanity.
Yes, dear reader, I most certainly did decline their kind offer of continued employment, and you may be startled to discover that I have never regretted the decision.
I had to do door-to-door sales when I was 19. The company said we'd have a training day in the local town which I was fine with, but they loaded us into a minivan, took us out of town, and told us to shadow a more experienced employee. We were told we would do it for three hours, but we ended up going for 6. It got further and further away from my home town. So in the late afternoon I audibly said, "Screw this." Just as yet another person shut their door in our faces, and I walked off. I ignored the guy I was shadowing who kept calling after me. Instead, I went to sit in a local pub and called my father to come and get me.
It was humiliating. it's not nice having dozens of people repeatedly slam their door in your face. it was commission work only and the company lied to us about our training day. When they called the next day I told them to go stuff themselves.
I went to work for a cake company as a decorator. It was an okay job but a step down for me. I had been a Sous Chef at a very nice cafe and cakes had been my specialty. We ran a tight ship. Everything was spotless and sanitized at the end of each shift and there was an immense amount of care taken with each and every item we produced. My husband and I decided to leave New York to be closer to my family and we were both feeling so burned out that we needed a change.
So I took this job as a decorator and was looking forward to letting someone else run the show. My first and only day started with a big stack of holiday orders which were easy, but I kept finding old bags of buttercream lying around. They were crusty and had a distinct blue cheese smell so they were VERY old. Not just a day or two. Probably weeks. That really skeeved me out because the other decorator was using them. I stopped her and took them away and told her to make new buttercream.
Then I noticed no one was washing dishes. Oh. The dish water is cold, gray, and covered in a nasty film. Gross. The whole sink area is disgusting and smells like death. So, I clean everything up and change out the old water for new hot soapy water and start doing my dishes. An older lady comes by and throws her dirty bowl and a big ass knife into the sink. She didn't drop them in, she THREW them. And she managed to cut my hand in the process. This chick doesn't even apologize. I'm trying to be polite because it's my first day, but I'm pretty grossed out and pissed off by this point.
So I go to the first aid kit and I'm shooting her dirty looks for cutting me when I open the kit and there's nothing inside! I had to go to my car and use my personal kit to bandage my hand.
When I came back, the manager had me go get some stuff from the fridge for him. In the process of looking for his stuff I realize there is food all over the floor that has started to mold, there are unlabeled containers of food, and several have become science experiments. At this point I've had enough. I load up a cart with all the rotten, moldy and dried up stuff and take it out to get rid of it. The manager starts giving me trouble for "wasting time." He tells me to leave it and says he will take care of it. Fine.
I'm told to start baking cakes. I was hired with the explicit understanding that I was a decorator and there were 5 other employees there to bake. I don't love the baking side and still had decorating to do but I made the stupid batch of cake (which they used pillsbury for by the way) and let them cool so I could go back to decorating. The manager gets angry and tells me to wrap them and put them in the fridge. I explained that they need to cool or they get sticky from the condensation. He doesn't care and makes another girl do it. This explains why all the cakes I'd been decorating that day had been wet and crumbly.
I'm so angry at this point that I just want to go home. I finish my decorating and clean my area. I go to the cooler to check on the labels for my cakes for the next day when I find all the disgusting food had been put back in the fridge. Then I walk out to find the manager and I'm looking around and all I can see is filth. Everything is dirty. The cords on mixers are crusty and sticky, there's dried up stuff under all the door and cabinet handles. The floors are foul.
And everyone. Went. Home. I hadn't heard them leave but they all booked out of there leaving dirty dishes lying around and piled in the sink. They left it filthy like that day in and day out. The manager didn't care. The owners didn't care. The employees didn't care.
So I remember standing there in the middle of this bakery apocalypse scene and thinking, "No. I don't want to work like this. No freaking way. They could kill someone with their food." So I called the owner and explained. She kept defending her employees and manager which made it abundantly clear she was in denial. I quit over the phone and said I wasn't coming back for day 2. She got really mad and told me I was unprofessional and a liar. It was ugly.
Now I run a small cake company of my own and I am so happy I never went back to that hole. I'm doing pretty well with my cakes and start a Brownie of the Month service next month!
I was hired on at a daycare as an infant teacher and it was agreed that I was going to be able to bring my 6-week-old son with me with no charge. I bought all of his daycare supplies, submitted his shot records and did my background screen. A week before I start, the director tells me she's gonna charge me $25 dollars a week until I get Arbor Care (state funding). So I will be paying to watch my own child but I thought it wasn't a big deal since he would be filling a space. My first day I walk into a room that is falling apart with holes in the walls, two nasty playpens and very very old toys but NOTHING FOR A BABY. No swing or bouncy. I was supposed to be an infant teacher but my baby was the only baby there. So, I had my 6 week old plus 3 toddlers in a small filthy room. The director then tells me that I have to pay $75 dollars a week and work 9-6 Monday to Friday every week. At this point I am 15 minutes into my shift and I just try to make it work. I put my baby in a sling so I can work and care for him, however, I was not allowed to do that. She made me put him in a playpen and then when he started crying called him spoiled. She told me to stop breastfeeding him because she wasn't having any of that "nonsense" at her school and gave me a half can of Enfamil. I didn't really respond to her. I just brushed her off (I was just blown away). Then she tried to prop my six week old baby on a giant teddy bear because there was no baby furniture and he only had the playpen (Biggest SIDS risk ever). I walked out with my baby after that and turned off my phone. The funny thing is I never made it to my lunch break. I did call Child Protective Services and reported what went down. About a week or so later I get a bill for 200 dollars for 1 week of child care. They will never see a penny.
At 18 I worked as a "handicapped" light bulb telemarketer. Two shady guys asked me during my interview if I had ever been hurt. They wanted me to say yes, so I did. Then they asked if it still hurts, again I said yes. They hired me on the spot. The next morning I was in a dimly lit room with ten other people. They tore apart a phone book and had me calling customers reading a script. The script went something like this, "I am handicapped and I am selling light bulbs for a living, they last a long time, would you like to buy some?" I left after the first break.
I had just turned 16 and got my first job at the only place in my small farming town - fast food.
Of course, teenagers always get the worst shifts. They only had me working from 4AM-7AM, Saturday and Sunday - that's it. 6 hours a week, with occasional shifts possible in the evenings throughout the week (if someone called off). But hey, money is money and to a teenager, a few dollars is a lot. So I said sure!
My first day I get in there at 4AM to help open the place. The night shift that closed the night before, had taken the grease traps - on the side of the giant grill and dumped them into this giant 55 gallon trash bag, on top of all the spoiled/dropped/bad food. My first task? To empty that trashcan.
I thought sure, no problem - how hard could it be to empty the trash?
As soon as I laid hands on the rims of the trashcan, which was on wheels, I knew I was screwed. It was just covered in nasty grease; that yucky, what did I just touch, stuff. Whatever I thought, I'll just wash my hands after.
So I start trying to lift this thing and it is so heavy! Immediately the bag starts tearing and you can hear the grease sloshing around in there underneath all the garbage. Which by the way, it was foul, it smelled like human excrement mixed in more, older human excrement.
I stopped and told the manager, like hey... this is going to make a heck of a mess and it's so heavy... I don't think I can lift it. Keep in mind, I was offensive line in football all through high school, where weight lifting was a regular thing for me.
The manager - this little stick figure of a douche named "Joey" - said, "You can't empty a garbage can? How Worthless are you?"
I stammered for a second... what did you just say to me? Before I had time to open my mouth and get myself fired for telling him to go off and die, he says, "Fine, I'll help you with it since you're so worthless." Then he started trying to lift it himself. Of course he had no luck and ripped the bag even more. By now, grease is starting to splash out here and there. He didn't think it was that heavy. He thought the bag was just stuck to the sides. Because the thing was on wheels, he said, "Well don't just stand there, come over here and help, stupid!"
Trying to be helpful, I walk over and help start trying to lift this bag. Of course, the small douche tried to push the thing back and forth (thinking it was stuck) as we got it about halfway out - which made the worst happen.
Immediately the bag ripped open, spewing forth day old hamburger grease everywhere. Of course the manager shoved the whole thing (that's on wheels) forward, which because the bag was halfway out and I was lifting the bulk of the weight, tipped it over and exploded it all over me. Not just exploded either. It flooded - FLOODED - the entire cooking area. Grease poured down my chest/pants/shoes; all over the floor. It was so thick since it was grease, it immediately clogged all the floor drains and just kept on going. It spilled all the way from the back in the dish washing area up, past the cash registers, into the customer dining room.
I thought it smelled bad in the bag, but no, it was positively foul in the worse way once it hit the air. Being covered/soaked in it immediately made me throw up. But to no avail because, there was no escaping the stench that now completely covered me.
I puked and gagged for over 5 minutes, where I started to walk out front and to stand outside - where the Manager told me I wasn't allowed to go. Store policy; They don't unlock the doors until they open to prevents robberies. I said (grease squishing in my shoes), "I quit! Let me out of here!"
He said, "If you leave, you can't ever come back."
I told him, half gagging, "Like I ever would." Then I left.
And that was first and LAST day I ever worked at that place.
It took years for me to even be able to eat from that particular fast food chain. Even now it still makes me a little squeamish. When I do eat there, I don't eat any of their beef. You couldn't pay me to eat that.
So a much younger me applied for a "Marketing" company that advertised itself online with lines like, "A fun work environment with drinks and BBQs on Fridays." With no real description about what the role was, I thought this sounded awesome. So I contacted them and instantly was called in for an interview - the same day. I arrived and there was a few other people applying. We all go in for a group interview and the guy starts talking about how much money you can make still without any mention of what the role was. He finally gets to the end of his overly dramatic presentation and I asked him what we would actually be doing. He paused for a moment and said it was a, "business to business safety product promotion." What he really meant was, we go around door to door selling fire extinguishers to businesses. We weren't even selling to the business itself. We had to sell to the employees for their own personal use at home as it's law that all businesses have these on the work site. I was verbally abused so much that at the end of the day, I returned back to head quarters, left all the gear at reception, and just walked out.
I was 18 and looking for a serving job. My friend told me this big fast food chain was looking for people to hire. I, having never been to this place before, think why not? Burgers and sodas; I'll be fine.
Before I train, I was required to buy a $50 dollar uniform with hat and buttons. As well, my $55 dollar serving shoes had to be ordered from their catalogue. I thought this was normal since I had never served before. So I had already invested $110 into this job.
My first day of training they had my follow an extremely nice, but, really "into his job" type guy.
Then whatever 50s song came on and everyone stopped everything and danced for a minute. After, he came back and said, Oh yeah, the dancings great! Youll learn about 30 dances.
I left while studying the menu for my first quiz and donated the uniform.
I started working at a pizzeria. I couldn't stand the manager.
I had to learn two different Point Of Sale systems because, although the newer system could handle cash and card, the manager didn't want to do away with the old system. I got yelled at for not pretending to lock/unlock a display case enough. The cooks and pizza guys gave me trouble for not knowing their protocols on my first day in food service.
The worst part was the manager's attitude. Around lunchtime, some guy came in. He took a chair, plopped it down by the register, and said he wasn't moving until the chick came out and paid him. I called my manager out and she immediately started making a scene. I have never seen such behavior before; she was picking a fight (physically and verbally), and throwing receipts to the ground. The other cashier, who had been there for two weeks, just shrugs. Once the manager pushed this guy out to the street (and paid him), she turned to me and said, "He's crazy, always interrupting business."
I called her the next day, said I'm not coming back.
16 year old me had a summer job at a golf course in the Golf Department Outside Services. I was happy to have one so I could start paying my grandparents back for helping buy my truck. Everything was going great, until it came time to lock up the course at the end of the night. The "Supervisor" was taking me around to show what final tasks had to be done. Well, we get to hole 13 which had a water cooler on the tee box that needed to be picked up. I went out of the cart to get it and bam! He drove off. Like, literally floored it and left me.
Well this was in 1996 so no cell phone, nearly dark, and at the furthest point from the clubhouse. I had to walk all the way back. By the time I got up there, everything was locked up and everyone was gone. Eventually, I got home and knew I wasn't going back. When I called the head pro the next day, he told me he was writing me up for failure to clock out, and failure to do my job as my supervisor didn't add gas to the carts for the morning.
It was then I told him what happened. He didn't even apologize and called it "being a rookie." So I told him screw that, I quit.
I had recently gotten fired (from a job as a radio DJ, my all-consuming lifelong passion).
At the time I happened to live in Las Vegas, a town where few high school graduates bother going to college because, they can easily make $50,000 a year fresh out of school either parking cars, serving drinks, or counting to 21 all day long.
So, despite having no connection TO nor fondness FOR the ubiquitous gambling industry, I sucked it up and went to dealer school, knowing itd make me more employable than my own college degree ever did. Dealer school involved 6 weeks of learning the finer points of Craps, after which they guaranteed you a job. What I didnt know at the time was that the school, which had a very generic name, was in fact owned and operated by a local casino mogul. Once you graduated theyd start you out at one of his so-called break-in houses". Two decrepit casinos in the heart of Vegas rotting downtown core. If you were still on the job a few weeks later, youd advance to one of the middle properties. Then after a year or so you could work at one of his relatively nice, but still less-than-opulent signature casinos.
I certainly had no plans on remaining a dealer for a year, nor on staying at the school for 6 weeks. Fortunately I was a fast learner (and/or my classmates were dumb, whichever) and managed to complete the course in 3 weeks. I got my assignment at the filthier of the two break-in houses.
They put me at a 25 cent (minimum bet) table. Four hours into my first shift, there are maybe 20 players at the table, every last one of whom smoked. Including the lady with the tracheotomy hole and another dude carrying his own oxygen. Theres a particular bet in craps I forget what it is, seeing as I havent been at a craps table since and cant be bothered to look it up now that pays 7 to 6. I brain cramped and mistakenly thought it paid 7 to 5. The one whale at the table, the guy playing entire dollars instead of just quarters, wins his $6.25 bet. I take $7 dollars worth of chips and push them towards him.
The pit boss sitting across from me takes his croupier stick and whacks me on the fingers, hard. He looks at me and screams in his Alabamian patois, and I remember this verbatim, You dont pay the man $9, you stupid son of a bitch! You pay him $7.50! What is wrong with you?
So I took stock of the situation: the pit boss who just administered corporal punishment to me, the player who thinks I just tried to screw him out of $1.50, the old lady whos now next in line to roll and whos screaming at me to give her the dice. I thought, You know what? BEST case scenario, if everything works out perfectly, I still have to come back to this minimum-wage job tomorrow. So I removed my bow tie, my little apron, and my name tag. I turned to the pit boss and quietly said, Screw you, you fat little redneck. Then walked toward the parking lot. They did not send security after me, which leads me to believe that I wasnt the first rookie dealer to quit in the middle of a shift.
I ended up getting another job, and didnt think twice about my brief foray into the exciting and glamorous world of craps dealing. Until I got a letter a few weeks later, informing me that my $32.25 pay check was waiting for me. And no, they wouldnt mail it to me, I had to pick it up.
So I park outside the casino and run upstairs to human resources. Where I have to receive my check from, and do an exit interview with, none other than the octogenarian mogul who owns the casino. He couldnt have been nicer to me. I was feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed as he kept talking to me, asking me why I didnt stick it out after showing such promise and breezing through dealer school. Whatever. Finally he says, Well son, Im sorry it didnt work out.
Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Mogul. I said, grabbed my check, and raced downstairs, only to see a $20 parking ticket on my windshield. Net profit to me, $12.25.
I witnessed two different people walk out on their first days.
The one kid (the company I worked for was super cheap and would usually only hire people straight out of college, as they had no idea what they should be making) came in and started training under his manager. The manager knew this kids parents and basically got him the job. He asked if he could take his lunch break at like 10AM, when she said no, he said, "Well that's bull. I'm hungry and I want to eat now." Then got up and walked out. His parents called 2 hours later trying to explain that he had a bad week and was just super emotional because of it. He was not accepted back.
The second one was a temp that I was training as my replacement. Things were going fine, I thought, until he said he was going to the restroom, grabbed his coat, and slid his key under the door. I watched him walk out the door then slip his key under the door. I didn't know how to react. I went and grabbed the key and gave it to my boss and told her she may need to look for another temp.
I got a job at a construction job run by a student, who was flipping houses. He hired a bunch of students randomly.
His crew consisted of 4 people that showed up together and were hired previous to me. My first day in, Mr. Flipper said I was to break the floor up a certain distance from the foundation wall with the others in the crew and handed me a sledge hammer.
I thought this was the best summer job. Paid in cash and I got to get really strong at the same time! Sign me up! Until I realized their wasn't any safety equipment. So to protect my eyes, I would close them on each swing I would do.
The crew were basically pretty slow. Two of them would take breaks for 15 minutes at a time every half hour. Still, it was my first day, and I wanted to show good spirit. So I worked hard.
I got half the floor done by myself. Mr. Flipper came downstairs, saw his crew, and really complimented the work, and said I was doing great work. He went back up.
One of the crew came over after that, and said I better slow down, pace myself. Or there would be problems.
At the end of the day, I went and told Mr. Flipper that the guys on the crew told me to slow down, and mentioned I would have problems. Mr. Flipper said there wasn't much he could do as one of the guys was a cousin of his, and he can't fire his cousin and friends. And on that note, I said I wouldn't be showing up the next day.
Life's short. I mean I could have just dogged the job a bit. But morally, I had a problem with that. And being ostracized by everyone I'm working with is just not safe. If word gets back, which it would, I would be labelled a snitch. It's a no-win situation.
I got a job as a waitress at a restaurant near me. I was 16 and thought I was going in for an interview. They pretty much asked me to start right then. So I called my mum and told her I would be late and gave it a go. It was a Saturday night so obviously busy and I soon realized that besides the woman who hired me, only 2 other people there (the cook and some other girl, still not sure what she did) had been working there for longer than a day.
The other waitress, receptionist/hostess and delivery person? All first days along with me. We were all extremely fed up by the end of the night and quit. We had no one helping us, explaining anything to us, we were dealing with a lot of angry customers, the owners were getting increasingly frustrated and rude because we weren't doing everything exactly right after our five minute orientation.
I went on to my next job in retail and I worked for those people for over 5 years. I still wonder if they ever learned not to do that again!
I really didn't want the job in the first place. My mom got me an interview so I went and was on time but I tried hinting during the interview that it wouldn't work. The guy interviewing me who would be my boss asked something like, "Would you be able to get here at 12PM every Friday?"
I responded with, "Eh, I don't think so. I get out of class at 10 and I have to take 4-5 buses to get here." Still hired me.
The next Friday I left class a few minutes early, took a bus from my college up to the store (the trip was like 10:46AM-3.30PM, I missed 1 bus so that added an extra 30 minutes but still). I trained from 4-9 and was angry, tired, defeated, and hungry (I woke up at 6AM and only had a Pop-Tart, I didn't have a chance to eat anything else until 10PM). I was thinking to myself, I can't do this every Friday, it isn't worth it. I told my mom on the way back that I couldn't do it and the place gave me a week to change my mind.
I was young and was looking for a job. When i applied, one of the staff interviewed me. The job description was very vague, so I asked what my job here exactly would be and he said, that I would call people who get calls from shady call centers which sell subscription and stuff. I would then offer to remove them from the calling lists nationwide, so they never again get those kind of calls. The staff member then continued to coached me on how to talk and how to calm people and give them confidence. After one hour I started my first calls in a room full of other call agents. Every time you convince someone and check their actual bank account data with the ones in your list for the processing fee + shipping, you would then forward them to another department who then closes the service.
I was very good at it. We mostly called old retired people, the main target of the other shady call centers. Every time you closed a deal you would then go to a whiteboard with all the names on it and add another point to your name. At the end of the day I surpassed everyone by far. The boss couldn't believe it, and congratulated me. The next day before work begins, I was talking with another co-worker who heard of my score last day and was impressed. I explained to him that I do it with a passion. Helping old people to save their money while getting paid is wonderful. He laughs at me and explains: every time I forward one of the calls the connection will be disconnected. Then another department calls them that sounds like us and subscribe them to pricey magazine for a couple of months. It was like I got hit by a truck. I ran to the other Department, took their script and it was all true. My first encounter with bait and switch. Then I ran to the boss and resigned. It's almost 10 years but I still feel sick on my stomach for all the person I deceived. I want to earn money but I want honest work.
Years ago I got a summer job as a server for a busy high-end restaurant. I Went for an 8 hour shift the first day. I Was basically thrown to the wolves and had no idea what I was doing. The boss was horrible. They also gave me the shortest break ever and I was starving my entire shift. I Finished my shift and on the way out, told the boss, "I quit."
I got hired by an electrical contractor on Thursday and sent to a job on Friday. I got to the job site, set my tools down, walked the job, picked up my tools and went home... 17 minutes.
Ladders were wooden, dried out, and splitting. Material was in a huge pile in a corner. What work had been done was crap. The Foreman was doing a line of meth or coke.
When I worked through a temp agency, I accepted an assignment for a client that needed a "telephone operator" to "take orders by phone". All I was told was it was for school supplies. Turned out to be a boiler room operation, making cold calls to schools, trying to sell class sets of dictionaries and thesauruses. Left after only about 30 minutes.
Last November I got a job working in a factory that specializes in making and packaging lamination. First day on the job I was thrown into the mix and had no clue what to do. At the end of the night I realized I didn't like the job and the people I worked with. Next day I was contemplating if I should go or not, so I head out to work and as soon as I turn onto the street where the building was I said screw it and got some Wendy's. Never looked back.
I was looking for a second job to fill in my free time, and thought bartending would be fun. Found a job posting and was invited for an interview at noon.
The bar was shaped like a boat and it's basically pitch black inside. I was immediately harassed by a drunk patron (remember, it's noon) who ordered me to undress as part of my interview. Then the owner came downstairs and I felt his eyes all over me - Not a good sign. He told me I'd be making $3.15 an hour. He then Informed me that the uniform is an oversized men's button-up, bikini bottoms, and flats. That's it. He gestured to my chest and said, "Oh and don't worry if you think you're too small! Sometimes small is better!"
I'm pretty sure I laughed for a full 15 minutes after fleeing that hole. The dude called me at least three times after that trying to get me to accept the job.
I worked at a big name grocery store as a butcher and just went in there to do my job. At the time I was trying to balance it out with my other job and I guess I was doing great as a butcher because they said they wanted me to work full time but during that whole first shift the people I worked with were so creepy and hard to talk and relate to so i just minded myself. The manager called me to the back to get me on the schedule and work more and I was all, "Sure why not."
I got in my car and cracked up at how weird the whole day was and decided to never go back.
15 years ago, after I finished my compulsory civilian service in Germany working with intellectually disabled people, I decided I wanted to continue doing this. I had just completed 13 months in an external residential group of people and helped them take care of their everyday lives.
Sadly, the institution I had worked for wasn't hiring at that point but they offered me a 1-year internship with a very low pay ($351 dollars/month).
On my first day, I was assigned to a new unit that was nothing like what I experienced before. It looked and felt like a prison and the warning speech before my shift started was almost enough to make me go home again.
But I managed to complete 5 hours of my 8-hour work day when I finally gave up after being attacked by residents 3 times, of which 2 times the attackers somehow got hold of a knife. At that point, I realized that $351 dollars per month is not enough to warrant this.
I got a call from a company I do not remember applying to, so I said screw it and went to the "interview".
They said we would shadow somebody, so I was teamed up with this young 20-ish middle eastern kid. He was super amped and said he wanted to make money today. Nobody at any time said what the job was, and I was ready to bail. So we were sent into vehicles and driven to a shopping center. He parks the car and he starts talking. Were selling a catalog of random stuff. Absolutely random. Wrapping paper, children's coloring books, small water fountains, and pool/pond supplies or something like that. Random.
This amped up dude began running after people in the parking lot, going into businesses and trying to sell. He went into a Walgreens until we were kicked out. We wandered over to a bunch of doctors offices, I pointed out the no soliciting sign and he said, "But they don't know what we have!"
So we break for lunch. He tells me I make money if I bring in more people etc,. I dropped my politeness and asked him, "You ever heard of a Pyramid Scheme?" and explained it to him. I even used his own diagram which formed a pyramid. I explained it's a scam, I'm not doing it, and your being taken advantage of. He was in shock. I shook his hand and wished him better luck, then left. I called a friend to pick me up and to go get my car.
I remember keeping the catalog, because of how random the items were.
I got a job as a receptionist at a local car body shop. In the first day, I'd somehow earned the nickname "Lesbian". I'm not butch, and while I'm bisexual, they didn't know that. I was just the only woman working there and I guess that's how that goes? The owner/manager never gave me a straight answer to anything. Every question I asked was met with a sarcastic answer, or an answer that wasn't correct at all because he thought it was funny. I also witnessed a female customer bring her car in, and the manager handed her $20 dollars. He told her to go get him some beer. YEAH. The look on her face told me this wasn't acceptable, not something she normally does for him. She attempted to protest, saying she had stuff to do and he said something like, "What better things to have to do than serve a man?!"
yeah I didn't come back. He actually begged me, via text, to come back. I was like, yeah no.
When I was 17, I applied for a position that claimed to be for IT related things (Didn't specify but it was low level and I needed money). So I get on the train for an hour and a half for a group interview. We were sitting around and the interviewer asked us to introduce ourselves, whatever, normal... None of the people there seemed to be the IT type - lots of tanned girls in tight blouses with high pitched laughs kinda put me off a little.
The interviewer then asked, "Why do you think you would be good in sales?"
Everyone did their little song and dance and the question came around to me. I stood up and told the room I was told that the position was for IT, I had never done sales before and judging from that fact I probably dodged a bullet. I was on the way out and the interviewer stopped me trying to save the situation and said, "We might have some IT work down the line."
I laughed a bit and went and bought myself a well deserved donut because why not?
(Posts edited for clarity.)
You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, or so the saying goes.
The same can be said for your interactions with cops, most of whom are perfectly happy to let minor infractions slide––When was the last time you were actually ticketed for jaywalking?––provided you're not a total Karen should you interact them.
Your local police officer likely doesn't care about jaywalking or the fact that you went five miles over the speed limit unless you give him a reason to, as we learned when Redditor Takdel asked police officers: "What stupid law have you enforced just because someone was an a-hole?"