Day 166: Think before you pull out your wallet parents

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 166: Think before you pull out your wallet parents

My friends and I got together the other day. Alice was not in a good mood, in fact, she was fuming mad.

“Get this,” she came straight to the point, “Margaret’s maternity leave is almost finished, and she doesn’t want to go back to work. She wants to be a stay at home mom. She’s a qualified chartered accountant and now she wants to quit her job!”

“Do what I did,” Victoria said, placing a calming hand on Alice’s arm. “The very same thing happened with my eldest daughter Cindy. She studied law, passed the bar exam and got hired by one of the big law firms of Toronto. A month later she and Eric got married and three months after that she got pregnant. When it was almost time to go back to work, she announced that she wasn’t going to, that she was going to be a stay at home mom.”

I said “That’s fine honey, but I invested in your future by paying your tuition, amounting to close to $200,000. Now you have a choice, you either go back to work or you are going to pay me back. I won’t charge you interest, but if you’re gonna throw your future away, I want that $200,000 to be paid back to me. And not with $20 a month, we’ll set up a payment plan. We make the amount payable over 10 years, which will amount to $1,666 per month.”

She started laughing and wondered where in the world she was going to get $1,666 a month. I said, “Well honey, that’s your problem. But that’s how it is.”

When she saw I wasn’t joking, that I was in fact deadly serious she wasn’t laughing anymore. When her maternity leave finished, she returned to work. Problem solved.”

I don’t have that problem with my daughter, Angela,” Maggie piped up. “I wouldn’t mind a grandchild, but when I talked to Ruby about it she was having none of it. “Do you think I put myself through university, studied my ass off and worked two jobs just to chuck it all away in a kid?” she said. “Forget it, mom.”

It seems to me that the problem lies with the parents. If mommy and daddy pay for tuition the son or daughter is more likely to chuck their career at the first opportunity than if the student pays out of his or her own pocket. They know what it took to get where they are and are more likely to appreciate it. 

Think before you pull out your wallet parents!

Day 54: Discrimination – Old vs. Young

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 54: Discrimination – Old vs. Young

An HR manager recently posted a message that he had hired a woman over 50 and had taken quite a bit of heat for it from the younger generation. There were a number of comments, I put in my two cents and commended him for his decision. I added that giving the choice between a 25-year-old and a 50-year-old, I would pick the 50-year-old every time.

Most young girls marry, start a family and go on maternity leave several times. Next, the kids get sick and mom has to take time off to look after them. With a 50-year-old, you avoid all that. Women that age are not only experienced, they have grown up children.

Well, when I said as much, I was severely criticized and insulted. It was even said that I discriminated against my own kind. Maybe that’s true, but I’m no stranger to discrimination myself. Over the years I’ve been discriminated against for being too tall, too thin, too young, too old, being from a foreign country, speaking with an accent … you name it, it’s been done.

If I’m partial to older women vs. the younger generation it has a reason, several reasons actually.

Take Tina for instance. Tina’s parents spent close to $250,000 on their daughter’s law school education. She had a brilliant mind, did her articling in one of the top law firms in the city, with a firm job offer after graduation. Six months before she graduated she met a man and married him. A month before graduation she announced she was pregnant and moving to Chicago. Her parents begged her to finish her education. She could practice law in Chicago after the baby was born. But no, Tina didn’t want to listen, she wanted to be a full-time mom. Today she has two children, is divorced and her parents are still paying off her student loans.

Then there’s Betty. Betty is an administrative assistant in a bank. Shortly after she started her job she got pregnant and went on a year’s maternity leave. When she came back she back she announced she was pregnant again and took off for another year of maternity leave. When she came back to work she was already pregnant for the third time and off she went again.

Next up there’s Yasmine. Yasmine also works for a bank, has four children and shows no signs of stopping. Her children range from age 6 to 11. All four go to school and after school they are looked after by their elderly and disabled grandparents. One is blind the other in a wheelchair. When Yasmine comes home from work, she picks up her kids and promptly kicks them out. In spring and summer, they play (unsupervised) in the condo building’s garden, in fall and winter they are banished to the corridor. When it’s time to eat she calls them in and after supper sends them to bed. When asked why the kids have to go to bed so early she openly states that she can’t stand having them around. Well, if that’s the case, why then have four children?

Are there other examples of young people acting irresponsibly? Yes, tons of them, but I think you get the idea. No need to go on and on.

Now women over the age of 50, on the other hand, are a whole different kettle of fish. When they get hired, an organization knows it’s getting value for money. Women who re-enter the job market at that age are either widowed or divorced and need the job for the money. The chances of an older woman quitting because she’s getting married are slim to none, and the chances of her getting pregnant and going on maternity leave are zero.

Other benefits of hiring older women are that they will show up on time, every time. They are experienced, they know what they’re doing, and take pride in their performance.

So, if you want to say that I discriminate against young people, go ahead. My conscience is clear. 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Day 35: Work experiences

My Writing Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 35: Work experiences 

Where it comes to working experiences, I can entertain you with a string of anecdotes. In the early years as an immigrant in South Africa, it was nearly impossible to get a full-time job, but there was plenty of temporary work.

My very first temp assignment was for an industrial bakery. The bookkeeper wanted some time off and I was sent by a temp agency to stand in for her. One of my responsibilities was to calculate the worker’s wages with the Kalamazoo system.

The office, my co-workers and the work itself were all nice enough, but what really stood out were the perks of this job. 

Every morning at 9:00 the office was served freshly brewed coffee, along with a tray of thickly sliced, warm bread. The tray also held a bowl of real butter, as well as peach, apricot and strawberry jam.

At 11:00 more coffee, this time accompanied by a variety of scones, muffins, and cinnamon rolls.

Between 12:00 and 1:00 employees were served sandwiches with a choice of ham, salami, pate, cheese, or one of five salads.

At 3:00 coffee again, this time with a selection of pastries.

At 4:30, the official end of the day, every employee got a free bread.

I was more than a little sorry when after three weeks the bookkeeper returned to the office and my assignment was over.

A few month later, I was sent to a company where – before I was even allowed to enter the premises – I was called into the security office and was asked to take the oath of secrecy. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I was soon to find out. 

This particular company built military equipment and my job was to type instruction manuals for the soldiers on how to make minor repairs. 

According to the oath, I was not allowed to discuss my work with anyone outside my department and certainly with nobody outside the company. I was to keep this oath for the duration of my stay and 7 years after I left the company. 

The biggest shock was when I came face to face with a tank. I had seen tanks in the movies and on TV of course, but that didn’t prepare me for seeing one in real life. Not only did I feel dwarfed by this enormous machine but I just about peed my pants when I saw its 9-meter (32 feet) gun pointed straight at me. I was teased mercilessly when I returned to the office as white as a sheet.

Life as a temp isn’t all fun and games though. Here in Toronto, I was sent to one of the big law firms for a three- week assignment. Very uncharacteristic of me, I left after just one hour. 

I knew the assignment wasn’t going to work when I arrived at the office and was shown to the desk of the girl I would be standing in for. 

Clearly, she loved spiders as there were spiders everywhere. She had several 8,5 x 11 colorful pictures of spiders pinned to the walls of her cubicle, two black and orange tarantulas were dangling from the ceiling, where a huge plastic (but very lifelike) black tarantula sat next to her computer.

Looking at the setup, I could feel a chill creeping up my spine, while the hairs on my neck and arms were standing up. 

I was supposed to work here! Me, whose terrified of spiders was supposed to work on a keyboard not 3 inches away from long black spider legs!

I tried to be brave and cautiously, from afar, placed a couple of Kleenex tissues over the black monster next to the keyboard, but it was no use, I knew what was under those tissues and even though I knew the spider wasn’t real, it still gave me the creeps. 

I informed the agency and left. As it turned out, three temps before me had done the very same thing.

In yet another law firm the environment was perfect, but the lawyer was a monster. He had a string of do’s and don’ts that included:

His printing had to be picked up every 20 minutes.

His teabag had to soak in hot water for precisely 45 seconds. Not 44 seconds, not 46 seconds, but 45 seconds.

His mail was to be presented to him in alphabetical order.

Cheques had to be stamped at an angle of exactly 45 degrees.

No work was ever to be visible on my desk.

This, of all things, presented the biggest problem. How does one do paperwork without any papers showing?

If these demands weren’t enough, the lawyer was terrible abusive in language. He screamed and shouted insults at the slightest provocation. If chairs weren’t replaced at exactly the right angle around the boardroom table, he would scream at his people for half an hour or more, getting angrier by the minute. If there were only 5 bottles of water instead of 6, this would set him off too.

When I suggested keeping bottled water in the fridge and only placing the bottles in the boardroom shortly before the meeting, I was on the receiving end of his wrath. To me, this made perfect sense as nobody wants to drink lukewarm water, but apparently, the lawyer didn’t tolerate suggestions.

When he came storming from behind his desk, ready to strike me, I got out a there. Verbal abuse was one thing, but I wasn’t risking physical abuse.

In hindsight, I should have let him. If he had struck me I would have had proof of the abuse. As it was, when I filed a complaint against the lawyer and the first thing the lawyer I contacted asked was “Do you have proof?” 

According to the lawyer, he’d seen this all before and a complaint without proof didn’t stand a chance in court.

Later I learned that he did contact the abusive lawyer who promptly denied everything.

I often played with the idea of putting together an anthology of work experience stories. Do you think this would be a good idea?

www.connymanero.weebly.com

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. 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

If it sounds like a lawyer and acts like a lawyer ...

Parents often complain that their children watch too much TV.  They think this is a waste of time.  I beg to differ.  After learning of my experience of last Wednesday, parents might urge their kids to watch more TV.

I recently walked past a store displaying their spring collection.  I saw turquoise and a salmon colored tops on the mannequin and it was love at first sight.  They looked so fresh and cheerful.

I went inside, found my size and paid. 

A smart person would have tried the tops on, but there was no time for that.  My bowling league started in less than ten minutes and I didn’t have a minute to lose.

Back home I noticed that I should have tried the tops on.  Even though they fitted perfectly, they were so see through I couldn’t possibly wear them in public.  I had no option but to take them back.

When I tried to return the tops, I was in for a surprise … the store didn’t believe in giving me my money back, I could only get store credit.

I didn’t believe in store credit, I wanted to money back and I was going to get it if I had to move heaven and earth.

I asked to speak to the manager, who was just as uncooperative as the sales girl.

“Ma’am, it says so right here on the receipt,” the manager said.  “We do not accept returns.”

Of course, I hadn’t seen that.  I need glasses to see anything that’s printed and I didn’t have my glasses with me at the time.

I was not going to be defeated though.  Time to pull out the big guns.  Years of watching legal shows on TV had thought me that if one speaks with conviction, one is taken seriously.  So I gave it my best shot.

I reminded the store manager that the sales clerk had failed to draw my attention to the fact that items were non-refundable, only exchangeable.

“But it’s printed on the receipt,” the sales manager reminded me.

“But I’m half blind,” I said.  “I can’t see without my glasses.  I can see far, but nothing up close.  As such, this specification should have been verbally communicated to me.”

I went on rattling off a few paragraphs and sections of the law book.  You know … paragraph 28 section 21 states that in the event …” etc etc. 

I sounded like a lawyer, I acted like a lawyer and I did so with aplomb.

Whether the store manager saw my point or he wanted me to shut up I’ll never know, but I walked out of that store with a full refund. 

Who said TV isn’t educational?