Day 15: Most embarrassing moment at work

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 15: Most embarrassing moment at work

It could happen to anyone. If you had been there, you might have made the same mistake. I was working for the Toronto office of Warner Brothers. It was my first day on the job and I had a lot to learn.

Overwhelmed with all the new information, I decided to go out during my lunch break to get some fresh air. Even though it was the middle of winter and bitterly cold, I thought a walk would do me good. The building had a beautiful garden and although the grass was covered thick with snow and the trees and bushes encrusted with ice, it appeared to be the perfect place to find peace and quiet.

However, there wasn’t much peace and quiet that day. No sooner had I reached the patio or I heard a bone chilling scream. I look around me.  Had someone fallen and broken an arm or a leg? I couldn’t see another living soul. I hurried into the garden, looking for a human or animal form, but the whole garden seemed undisturbed. Yet I definitely had heard a scream.

Still puzzled by it all I heard another scream, a man’s scream, and it was, even more, bone chilling than the first. I noticed that it came from behind me, from the lower level of the building. Ignoring the snow and the ice on the garden patch, I hurried over and heard him scream again and again.

Just as I reached the building a giant of a man walked out the door.  Dressed in pants held up by suspenders, he puffed out his considerable chest, lit a cigarette and with great satisfaction blew the smoke into the air. I skidded to a halt. This was definitely not the man who I heard screaming. 

This man, I wondered, what had he been doing? Who else was inside that building? How could he leave a man, who obviously had been in considerable pain a few moments ago, alone while he stood there enjoying a cigarette? 

My imagination took a flying leap.  Was he perhaps the man who had inflicted pain on this poor soul?  Being a few feet away from him I searched his clothing for traces of violence or worse ... blood. Had he been torturing someone? Surely not, this was 1999, not the middle ages.  Then again, these days, one never knew what went on right under our modern noses.

I tried not to be too obvious as I looked at the man, but at one point our eyes met. He grinned at me. He grunted something, but too occupied with my own thoughts I didn’t pay attention to what he was saying.

“Well,” he said, louder this time, “what’s it gonna be?”

“Huh? I’m sorry, what?” I stammered.

“Do you wanna look,” he said, throwing a nod towards the door behind him.  “You’re new here, aren’t you?  They’ll show you this place sooner or later, but I can give you a private tour.”

Stepping back, I shook my head. “No thank you.  I must go now.” 

When the man moved towards me I flew into the building, up the stairs, and into the office. As they told me later, when I entered my office I was in quite a state, pale as a ghost, shaking and obviously very upset.

“Something’s happened,” I told my boss.  “I was downstairs and I heard a man screaming. He was in pain.  We have to do something!”

He tried to calm me down but I wouldn’t be calmed. With the screams still ringing in my ears, I figured someone needed help, now!

“Exactly where were you and what did you hear?” my boss asked.

“I was out in the garden and the screams came from inside this building,” I explained.

“Did you see anyone?” he asked.

“I saw a big man come out and have a smoke,” I said.

“A big man with suspenders and a French barrette?”

“He wasn’t wearing a barrette,” I said, “but yeah he was wearing suspenders.”

A broad smile spread over my boss’ face.

“Nothing is going on and nobody needs help,” he explained.  “The big guy you met, the guy with the suspenders, he’s our sound technician and he synchronizes the images of the film with the soundtrack.”

I must have given my boss a blank look because he went on. “We have our private cinema where we show new movies before they're released on the circuit.”

“But the screams,” I said.

“Were the screams of a man being executed in the electric chair,” my boss explained.  “It’s the new movie with Tom Hanks called, ‘The Green Mile. I saw the movie earlier and they are indeed bone chilling screams.  It’s not a movie for sensitive viewers.”

As if that embarrassment wasn’t enough, more was to come.

A few days later I got an invitation to see the movie, with my choice of a guest in the private cinema.  When the scene of the execution came, several heads turned in my direction and there was a whole lot a giggling and sniggering.

Later still I got to meet the sound technician, officially this time, and when he got to hear the story of my suspicion he laughed so hard I swear the walls of the tiny cinema vibrated.

Feel free to comment. I'd love to hear from you.

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Day 12. Hello

Day 12: Hello – Write a story or a poem that starts with the word ‘hello’

“Hello, is this Conny?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“It’s Robert Chatham and I would like to welcome you to my firm.”

“I got the job?” I asked.

“You got the job” Robert Chatham confirmed. “See you on Monday. You start at nine o’clock.”

When the call was disconnected, I wondered why I didn’t feel happier. I had been looking for a job for a long time. I had seen Chatham for an interview the week before. I finally got a job, in a great location for a generous salary. So why did I feel like a dark cloud had just moved over my head?

When I arrived at the firm the following Monday, I was shown not to a cubicle but to an office, a private office with a view over the building’s private courtyard. Sunlight streamed through a floor to ceiling window, bouncing off a blond oak L-shaped desk and credenza. This was just getting better and better.

When Robert Chatham walked in at 9:15, the six men and women who had been chatting in the kitchen scattered to their desks like mice who’d smelled a cat.

Minutes later Chatham walked into my office. “Let me give you the tour,” he said.

Behind glass fronted windows, the other employees seemed hard at work, not looking up when Chatham and I walked past. “I’m not going to introduce you to anyone,” he said, “as you won’t have contact with these people and I don’t encourage socializing. You are all here to work, not to chat.” I thought this a little harsh, but okay.

When we arrived at the copy room Chatham instructed that I was to pick up his printing and bring it to his office every 20 minutes. “Not every 19 minutes, not every 21 minutes,” he emphasized, “every 20 minutes.”

In the kitchen, he pointed out the dishwasher and percolator. “This will be your job too,” Chatham said. “When you come in in the morning, you make coffee. When you see me come in you make me a cup of tea. You let the tea bag in the cup exactly 35 seconds. Not 34 seconds, not 36 seconds, but 35 seconds and add three-quarters of a packet of sugar.”

Was this guy for real? I couldn’t believe this was the same men I met during my interview. 

Over the next two weeks what I heard and witnessed bordered on the unbelievable. Grown men and women were reduced to tears after being yelled at, screamed at, and called every derogatory name under the sun. Now I also understood why everyone had a private office ... the employees were not allowed to talk to each other, not even in the kitchen or mailroom and no paired visits to the bathroom were allowed. This man ruled his staff like a dictator.

To cut a long story short … I quit after the second week. I put up with difficult managers and directors in the past, but this one took the cake. I put up with his yelling and screaming and calling me names, but when it looked like he was about to strike me, I had enough. 

The reason ... he screamed that there were no water bottles in the meeting room. I pointed out that water bottles are better kept in the fridge, so when someone wants something to drink the bottle is cold. It was the middle of summer, who wants lukewarm water on a hot day? The result ... Chatham's face lost all color, he started shaking and the next moment he screamed and screamed how I dared to talk to him that way. 

The following Monday I contacted a lawyer and related my experiences. “Do you have proof of this abuse?” the lawyer asked. I said that I didn’t. “Then you have a problem,” he said. “If you can’t prove that the lawyer screamed and used abusive language, you don’t have a leg to stand on. I will contact him if you like, but my guess is he will deny everything.”

“The others can't lie when under oath,” I pointed out. “They will have to tell the truth.”

“You want to take this to court?” the lawyer asked. “Before you say yes or no, let me point something out to you. I will need a $1,500 retainer, I charge $300 an hour and a case like this could take two years before it goes to court. Do you have the financial means to see this through?”

I didn’t. I didn’t have proof and I didn’t have money for a court case. So Robert Chatham got away with it. 

This experience started with 'hello' and ended with 'goodbye' and everything in-between was another lesson learned. 

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Toronto's Chinatown

People with full-time jobs often envy temporary employees. For temps, the work never gets boring, they work for different companies, do different types of jobs and in the process meet a variety of people. If they like the job, great, if they don’t they can take comfort in the knowledge that it’s only for a limited time.

During my time as a temp I’ve worked all over Toronto and as such know the city like the back of my hand. Or so I thought. I’m currently based on Spadina Avenue and it feels like I’m no longer in Toronto. This part of the city is Chinatown and completely different from everything I'm used to.

The bad news is … Gone are the beautiful tall buildings. Gone are the smart shops and chain stores. Gone are the food courts. Gone are the numerous little green parks with benches. This is an old part of town where mom and pop stores rule.

The good news is … I was finally able to buy a Bonsai tree. For some time now Dieter wanted a Bonsai tree, so last year I wanted to give him one for Christmas. I contacted a few stores around town, but nobody had such trees. Next, I looked online and found a Bonsai tree seller in California. Unfortunately, having the tree shipped to me was going to cost triple the price of the tree itself. So that was a no go.

But here in Chinatown it’s Bonsai tree galore, one shop next to another. So Dieter is finally getting his tree. Let’s hope the little thing stays alive because Dieter doesn’t exactly have green fingers.

A while ago I gave him two plants, a French Lily and something else. When I visited his office a few months later, I didn’t see either one of the plants. When I asked about them, Dieter had to admit that they were both dead.

So next I gave him a cactus, because I feel that he needs something green in his office and you know what … he managed to kill that one too. I mean really, it’s a cactus … how did he manage to kill a cactus?

The change in scenery in Toronto isn’t the only thing that surprised me. Apparently, the distance between point A and point B, was also new to me.

You might remember that last week I lost my glasses on the subway. I contacted the ‘Lost and Found’ department of the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission), but no glasses were brought in. I made an appointment with an optometrist, ordered new glasses and last week I could pick them up. So excited was I that I would be able to see properly again that I decided to walk to the optician. BIG MISTAKE!

I walked from Toronto’s Spadina and Queen intersection to Bay and Dundas intersection and as you can see, it is quite a walk. 

I walked and I walked and I walked and when I thought I was nearly there, I had to walk some more. In heels mind you! Not only that, it was a hot humid day. By the time I got to Bay and Dundas, my throat felt like I had crossed the desert, my legs felt like lead and I had blisters on my toes the size of Texas.

Never EVER am I doing that again. Well today my temp job in Chinatown is over anyway. On to better and more familiar terrain.

Man vs. Machine

Recently I overheard a conversation between two men involving aliens. At the end of the conversation one man asked the other “Do you believe there is intelligent life out there?” to which the other replied “Right now, I don’t believe there’s intelligent life in this room.”

Where it comes to intelligence, or lack thereof, one has to have a sense of humor. Blonds especially, as they are often the target of jokes, portraying them as dumb.

While I admit that some women’s elevator doesn’t quite go to the top, there are dumb men too. I should know, I met one the other day.

I went to the mailroom, to pick up some documents from one of four multi-purpose copiers and found a man staring at one of the machines. It was quite obvious that he had a problem.

While waiting for my documents to finish printing, I kept an eye on him.

He placed some papers in the top tray, tapped them lightly so they were nicely lined up, pushed one button and then another button and then waited. When nothing happened, he let out a long sigh and removed the papers.

He went through the process again, placing the paper in the top tray, making sure they were lined up properly, followed by a push of two buttons. When the machine remained dead still, the man’s frayed nerves got the better of him. He did what so many people do in a stressful situation … he started talking to the machine.

“What’s the matter with you, you stupid thing,” he mumbled. “The papers are there, I pushed the buttons, now start faxing!”

“Problem?” I enquired politely.

“I don’t know what this stupid thing wants,” he turned to me, while helplessly raising his arms the way a bird would flap his wings. “I’ve tried three times now and this machine just doesn’t want to fax.”

“Can you show me?” I asked. “Maybe you’re forgetting a step.”

“I feed the papers in the tray like so,” he demonstrated, placing the documents for the fourth time in the top tray, “I make sure they’re all lined up, then I hit the Fax button and then the Start button.

“Are you sure you have the right fax number?” I wondered.

“Fax number?” he said with a frown.

“The number of the recipient,” I said. “The person you’re sending the fax to.”

We both looked at the printer/scanner/fax’s computerized screen and we both knew right away what the problem was … no number had been keyed in.

If this had been a blond woman, and a man had witnessed such a mistake, she’d never hear the end of it. Fortunately for the man, I have a more discreet nature, although I must say, feeling a giggle tugging on my jaw muscles, I’ve never left the mailroom in quite such a hurry.

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Office Team - Totally Unprofessional

If ever there was an unprofessional agency, it’s Office Team. Every so often one of their consultants calls me to come to their offices to update my resume.

I have done this no less than five times. Every time the consultant who looks after my file leaves the agency, and I’m handed over to another consultant, I have to go to their offices to be considered for employment.

The consultants don’t listen very well though. Even though I clearly stated in my application that I can only work downtown and uptown Toronto, North York and Scarborough, they called me twice now for a temp assignment in Brampton and Markham.

When I told the consultant that I don’t have a car and the commute as such would take too long, she got rather snooty with me.

Today one of them called me to come and update my file for the sixth time. When I explained that I had been to their office several times, she responded with “You dare to raise you voice to me.” I didn’t raise my voice, I was trying to be heard over a rather bad phone connection.

When I mentioned this conversation to a friend, he nodded in understanding. He is an ex-Office Team consultant, and stated that every consultant has to have a certain number of job seekers on their books, or their own job is in jeopardy.

He stated not to bother with Office Team, as they have the worst reputation, both with clients and with job seekers. The agency has their favorites, who get called again and again for temp assignments and the rest ... they’re just “book fillers”.

Would you pity her?

Soon my blog will celebrate its sixth anniversary and over the years many readers have asked me where I find inspiration for my posts. One word … Facebook. Whenever I’m short on inspiration, all have to do is scroll through the Facebook posts and something is sure to jump out at me.

Take today for instance. Someone posted a video of a 22-year old African American woman that was aimed to gear up sympathy for the woman’s "dire" situation.

She works at McDonalds at minimum wage, she had a young kid, and has to make do with what she earns, plus what she gets from child support, plus government assistance.

After seeing the video, I got to thinking and watched it again and again and I found quite a few interesting details.

She complained that she only earns minimum wage at McDonalds. Well, at least she has a job. Millions of people don’t and for one reason or another are refused unemployment benefits.

My neighbor also used to work for McDonalds, but he didn’t stay there. He went to night school, put himself through college and obtained a government job.

The woman lives in a two story house with a beautiful big kitchen. Now it so happens that I have friends and acquaintances who are not exactly well off and I can tell you, none of them live in a two story house. One lives in a cheap apartment, the second shares an apartment with a roommate, the third lives in a trailer and the forth rents one room in a house.

None of these people have children (they can't afford them) so they don’t have the benefit of child support and when they applied for government assistance, they were turned down. Subsequently they turned to The Salvation Army, United Way, and other charities and were sent packing.

The woman in the video states that she only buys frozen foods (as fresh food might spoil and be wasted). Not very smart in my opinion. Frozen food is the most expensive. Take carrots for instance. A tin of carrots costs 65 cents, a bushel of fresh carrots costs 99 cents, while a packet of frozen carrots costs $2.45. If she’s worried about wasting food, she can go to the market on a daily basis for what she needs.

She complains that she had to have a tooth pulled because she couldn’t afford root canal. 

I have news for her, I know quite a few people, working people with medical insurance, who can’t afford root canal either. As for me … I wouldn’t want root canal if you offered it to me for free. 

As for the woman herself … she is African American, yet she has long glossy hair. This indicates a) her hair is straightened, b) has extensions, or c) is a wig. Either way, an expensive look.

As for her clothing … she is seen wearing a GAP T-shirt. Anyone who has ever shopped for clothing knows that GAP is an expensive store. Her jacket I recognized as Tommy Hilfiger (designer gear). Some might say that her T-shirt and jacket are knock-offs, but knock off items are still more expensive than no-name clothing.

All in all, my less than rich friends would trade places with this woman any day. She has a job, she lives in a furnished two story house, she receives child support and government assistance … what exactly is she complaining about?

Do job seekers have rights?

All over the world people have rights. Men have rights, women have rights and children certainly have rights. African Americans have rights, gays have rights, the disabled have rights and a whole lot of other people have rights too. The only people who do not seem to have rights are job seekers.

Potential employers can engage in false advertising, toy with their emotions, offer them less than minimum wage salaries, and when they complain they don’t have a leg to stand on.

Anna (not her real name) who complained about false advertising received the following message from the Ministry of Labour.

This issue is not covered under the Employment Standards Act. The Employment Standards Act, 2000 (ESA) sets out minimum rights for most employees in Ontario workplaces by setting standards for such things as payment of wages, public holidays, hours of work, overtime pay, vacation time and pay, pregnancy, parental and personal emergency leave, and entitlements to notice of termination (or pay instead of notice) and severance pay. Hiring is not covered under the ESA.

In another instance Anna applied for a job where the employers offered her less than minimum wage. Again she complained to the Ministry of Labour. To the best of her knowledge, paying less than minimum wage is against the law. 

Apparently it isn’t. The law on minimum wage might as well not have been written, because employers can pay whatever they want. It’s up to the employee to take it or leave it.

This time Anna got this message.

This issue is not covered under the Employment Standards Act.The Employment Standards Act, 2000 (ESA) sets out minimum rights for most employees in Ontario workplaces by setting standards for such things as payment of wages, public holidays, hours of work, overtime pay, vacation time and pay, pregnancy, parental and personal emergency leave, and entitlements to notice of termination (or pay instead of notice) and severance pay. Minimum wage is not covered under the ESA.

This is not very encouraging. Companies can advertise jobs that don’t exists, can pay whatever they want, and according to the Ministry of Labour it’s none of their concern. When will the law give job seekers some rights?

How to find a job

Good news for the unemployed or those looking to change jobs. “How to find a job” by Alex Watson explains step by step how to succeed.

There’s tips on how to write the perfect resume, how to compile an attention-grabbing cover letter, and how to prepare for an interview.

"How to find a job" is available on Amazon. Can you afford not to get it?

Some of the topics are:

How to write a cover letter that gets attention 

How to write a resume when you’ve been fired 

How to interview successfully 

Worst things to say or do at the interview  

How to spot a work at home scam  

The best jobs for teenagers

How students can make some extra money 

The elements of a successful blog 

Ways to make money in your spare time 

How to make a good impression during a job interview

Making a good first impression is all about good manners.  Good manners demand that you know how to dress for any occasion and how to behave.

It stands to reason that you would dress and behave differently for a job interview than you would for a cocktail party.  

Just as you would not show up for a job interview in a short little black dress and glittery sandals, neither would you show up at a cocktail party in jeans and boots.

How useful are interview tips

Some time ago I Google'd “How to handle a successful job interview” and received 537,000,000 results.  Next I Google'd “Tips for a successful job interview” and the system came up with 42,000,000 results.

They all said more or less the same thing: research the company, dress the part, arrive on time, not too much makeup, a minimum on jewelry, no perfume.

Armed with all this knowledge I made my way over to an insurance company where I had an interview at 3:00.

The journey downtown would take me approximately an hour, but to be on the safe side I decided to leave an hour and a half ahead of time.

I had researched the company back to front, I was wearing a white shirt, a black business suit and black shoes.  I wasn’t wearing too much makeup, other than a Tiffany bracelet I was wearing no jewelry and no scent.

The trouble started on the subway.  The train came to an unexpected stop and the driver announced that there was a passenger alarm on the train ahead of us.

Great, this had to happen today of all days.  How long would this take?  Five minutes, ten minutes, half an hour … you never know with these things.

To cut a long story short … I arrived on site at 3:15.  A car splashed water up my pants and while I tried to jump away I broke the heel off my shoe.  Can you picture it … I was 15 minutes late, in a disheveled state and limping.

The worst was yet to come though.  Ten minutes into the interview the woman (who needed an assistant) asked me if I smoked or had cats.  I confirmed both.  The woman excused herself with a severe allergy attack.

For a while I waited in the interview room.  After five minutes I stepped outside and paced the floor.  Should I leave?  After ten minutes had passed, I didn’t think the interviewer was coming back.

Outside I phoned my agency and told the consultant everything that had happened.  I concluded with “There’s no way I’m getting this job”.

“That’s funny,” the consultant said, “because I just got a call that you got the job and they’re expecting you on Monday.”

Conclusion … don’t pay too much attention to all those successful interview tips.  If the company wants you, they’ll take you just the way you are.  If they don’t … you can stand on your head and whistle the national anthem through your ears and they’ll still say no. 

Employment agencies - friend or foe

There’s no denying that the unemployed are having a hard time.  Let’s take Laura as an example.

She spent a considerable amount of time constructing the perfect resume and cover letter, surfed job sites for hours on end, and applied to positions of interest until she was blue in the face.

Some of those applications went out to organizations, some to employment agencies.  The result … a few times she was invited for an interview, but nothing came of it.  Agencies invited her to register with them if she wanted to be considered for upcoming opportunities.

When Laura visited the employment agencies, registration usually took about three hours.  First there was a profile to be created: name, address, contact information, etc.

Next there were a string of tests to do: MS-Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Access, Outlook, plus a typing test.

Finally there was the interview. 

Every time Laura left the agency sure in the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before she went back to work.  While some people indeed find work through an employment agency, Laura didn’t.

Options Personnel

The first agency she ever registered with was Options Personnel.  Shortly after registration she was contacted for a three day temporary assignment.  On her way to the company she got struck by a car, nothing major, but enough to keep her from working that day.  She never heard from Options Personnel again.

Adecco

Laura also registered with Adecco.  Three months after registration she responded to an ad online, but was told that her consultant had left the agency.  If she wanted to be considered for future assignments she had to re-register.  Laura did.  Two months later she hadn’t heard from Adecco and called for an update.  Again she was told that her consultant had left the agency, if she wanted to be considered for future assignments she had to re-register.  All in all, Laura registered four time with Adecco.  She was never contacted.

Altis

Laura’s experiences with Altis are much like with Adecco’s.  She registered with the agency, her consultant left and she had to re-register.  She did so three times.

Hays

She registered with Hays about five months ago and hasn’t heard from them since.  She’s emailed her consultant several times and left him voice mail messages, all of which were ignored.

Randstad

Through Randstad, Laura met Michelle.  They were both placed with a laundry detergent company and were actively encouraged by their consultant to cheat on their time sheet, booking more hours than what they actually worked.  If they worked 500 hours, the company had to hire them.  Having no scruples, Michelle did so.  When she worked 35 hours she charged the company 40 hours, every single week.  Laura didn't and booked her hours honestly.  Randstad terminated Laura's assignment and never called her again.

Still, every day Laura scans the job sites and is encouraged when she sees agencies such as ZSA, Cartel, and Bilingual Source posting as much as ten jobs. 

When she registered with them, she was told that they had nothing at the moment. 

“What about all the ads?” she questioned.

“We had one job and ten consultants advertised,” she was told.  “In the meantime that position has been filled.”

Since that time, Laura has never been contacted by either ZSA, Cartel or Bilingual Source.  Questioning an employment agency is career suicide.  If a candidate asks questions, she's seen as a trouble maker.

Part of the reason Laura remains unemployed is that she has to put up with discrimination.  They say that discrimination is against the law, but organizations and agencies have found loopholes.

For instance, organizations can’t say that they’re looking for a young person, so they word it as “Junior assistant required”.

Those who give preference to a Chinese assistant word it as “Must be able to speak Mandarin”.

Is it any wonder that Laura slowly but surely is giving up hope?