I am currently working in MVWJ as a transportation dispatcher, which is basically getting our cabs to pick up train crews to go from point A to point B. The job itself wouldn’t be that bad if it weren’t for the company and the people who run it. It’s owned by a local guy who owns a good portion of business here in town. None of us ever know what we’re going to walk into on a daily basis. Our head supervisor is a former Marine, who if you dare get sick, you’re scheduled on your next day off, usually without warning. We are required to do what they call “highlight” early or late, which means we either have to come in four hours early or stay four hours late. I am on first shift, which means if I highlight early, it means getting up at 2am to see if I am needed at 3am (I live across the street so I don’t need to call any earlier) and there’s no guarantee that you have to go in early.

You rarely know if you will have to stay late until you’re already making other plans, after they’ve told you all day you weren’t needed. Nothing’s worse than when they decide to tell you as your putting your headset up and walking out the door. They’ve been known to chase people down in the parking lot to get them back in to stay! If you have a day that you can’t stay or come in, you’re written up, and they don’t care why. Most of us are parents and some of us have had massive health problems, but even when you’re contagious, you’re expected to be there. The supervisors are also some of the most ridiculous people that I have ever met in my life! One supervisor in particular will virtually scream at you from across the room for something you supposedly did wrong. He has been sent home for his behavior, but won’t ever get fired. I’ve been sexually harassed, insulted, screamed at, threatened, you name it.

One of the worst things is the intimidation tactics they use. They will scream at people on the floor, threatening to suspend them for insubordination for things that are just crazy. We work with the big train companies — CSX, Norfolk Southern, Sooline, Amtrak and Union Pacific. UP has their own system that we have to close out and sometimes, if we are unusually busy, we get behind doing this. That’s when the supervisors come out to yell at us for not getting them out fast enough and threatening suspension. I’ve never worked in a place where people are so afraid to come into work. The only reason why we stay is that the money is halfway decent but that’s about it. I guess it’s a bad sign when there are only three or four people out of about 200 to 300 who have been there longer than three or four years. One has been there about 10, but she’s the exception. All I can do is keep looking for something better.

I got a babysitter job via Craigslist. I was to take care of a stay-at-home mom’s kids. She never asked for references or a background check, but I was immediately given full access to everything she possessed – home, car, purse – and she left bills lying all over the place, which I found odd. Day One – I trained with their last babysitter who’d recently resigned for “health reasons.” It was nap time and the kids were asked to visit the potty before going to bed. The five-year-old refused. The nanny suddenly hugged him tightly and BEGGED him not to pee on the floor again.

Day Two – Mom drove us to a medical appointment for the five-year-old. While in the waiting room, the mom handed me some confidential paperwork and told me to give it to the staff. She then left me to watch the three-year-old, claiming she had to go outside to the car to have a “business meeting” phone call. She said she’d try to make sure it ended when the appointment did. The appointment ended and the kids and I went out to the parking lot but the mom wouldn’t let us in the car because she was still on the phone. So I waited outside in the parking
lot with two small children who didn’t really know me…for ONE HOUR. The five-year-old kept asking when he could see his mom and punched the hood of a car. When Mom finally got off the phone and summoned us, she didn’t even apologize.

Whenever I told the five-year-old no he would shout at top volume or threaten me. He had a problem with impulse control and had been recently evaluated for ADHD. Even so, the mom would let him have whatever he wanted anytime, often contradicting everything I’d told him. Once she gave him a real hammer to play with in the house. All the kids were far and away the biggest brats I’ve ever seen in over 20 years of child care. They were constantly whining and treating me like a servant. They had clearly been raised with no rules or consequences for their behavior, and it made them into little monsters, especially the five-year-old.

After two weeks I was suddenly fired because the kids weren’t “happy.” I still have no idea what that means since they were like NEVER happy. I think Mom just decided I wasn’t peppy and lax enough for her perfect little crotch nuggets.

I’m writing this submission while still employed at MVWJ. I began this entry-level position at my company a year and half ago. At the beginning, I had a great relationship with my boss, J. When I had been employed for about eight months, J pulled me into his office and told me I had been doing a great job and asked if I was interested in more responsibilities, a title change and increased salary. The department was making some big changes and he had been approached by his boss and HR about this. I said of course! I was so thrilled that my hard work had paid off and I was moving up the company ladder. The next week K, the head of HR, came to my desk and told me I would be reporting to V from now on. My desk would be moved within a couple of days. I was in shock and asked her if she was sure and what my position would be. She replied yes, and that it was still administrative assistant, then smiled a fake smile and walked off.

The reason for my shock and dismay was that V was the executive assistant for J’s boss. I went from being an “assistant” to an “assistant to an executive assistant.” No title change, no salary increase, nothing. I was crushed. J came by and apologized profusely. He said he had no idea that HR was moving in that direction and his hands were tied. I was upset but knew it wasn’t his fault and resolved to suck it up and try to be optimistic.

 As soon as I was moved closer to V, she began her tirade. It takes about two hours for me to commute on the train to my job and J had always been very understanding about this since he commuted from far away as well. He would let me make my own schedule because he knew I always completed my work on time and was very reliable. J would even let me work from home some days as he did as well.

V did not care. She wanted me at my desk and checking in with her at precisely 8:30 every morning and not a minute later. This meant leaving my apartment at 6:15am and not returning home until 6:30pm and I was NEVER allowed to work from home. Some days I couldn’t help being late because the train would break down or be delayed. I would tell V and notify her from my phone when it happened. She wrote me up with HR and I was given a final warning. I had been on a train that struck and killed a man! I tried to explain to them that it wasn’t my fault but K (who had stuck me with V in the first place) told me to suck it up and figure it out myself. This would have been bearable had that been the only issue. V and her other friend B (who was also an executive assistant) would give me all the work they didn’t feel like doing. She sent me to pick up lunches for their bosses (which were paid with the company credit card). V would also make me file her expense reports for her boss, which she would then check and submit under her name to receive credit. She sent me passive aggressive emails marked high priority with read receipts attached.

One of my favorites went like this: 

V: “I need you to research the best and safest way to purchase American Express gift cards online for the upcoming baby shower. This is high priority.”

Me: “http://amex.com/americanexpress.com.” 

She would shuffle past my desk to check to make sure I was working. It was obvious she was checking up on me because my desk was not on a convenient route to anywhere i.e. the kitchen, elevator, bathroom, etc. I stopped taking lunches because she treated me as if I was doing something wrong whenever I said I was going to take a break. She demanded I inform her the second I returned and would make sure I wasn’t a minute off on my time card or she’d send it back to me to fix it. I began to hate work so much that every morning I’d wake up with a stomachache at the thought of dealing with V, always worried she would throw me under the bus. I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. She had several nicknamed around the office, such as “Cruella” and “Lady of the Dark.”

After months of job searching, I finally found a new position where I will get to use my brain, not my ability to fetch lunches and make folders! Even better, it’s 10 minutes from my apartment. I almost cried from relief when they hired me. I’m going to miss J (he actually helped me get my new job by giving me a great reference) and a few other people, but I’m so happy to get out of this dead-end position. 

I told V last Friday that I would be leaving and she’s still trying to make my life hell. It’s ok, though because I’M OUTTA HERE!

The landlords were a couple, she managed the kitchen and he managed the bar. They were both hideous alcoholics and it became clear pretty quickly he was violent towards her as well. One night, he threw her down the stairs. Another night he made a mistake in an order that went to kitchen and a huge fight broke out between them in the middle of the restaurant. Eventually she went back into the kitchen and he to the bar. A moment later he stormed back through the restaurant, into the kitchen and hurled two pint glasses at her showering everyone in the kitchen with shards of broken glass, including me. I should have quit that night, I still don’t know why I didn’t.

They hired another couple to work there who eventually ended up moving into the top floor of the building (the landlords lived on the second floor). One night about three months later the couple who moved in packed their bags and left in the middle of the night without a word. It turns out that this had happened twice before to the same landlords when they were at a different place. They couldn’t understand why it kept happening to them.

When a friend posted on Facebook that his restaurant desperately needed a server and he had been given permission to hire a friend, I jumped on the opportunity. Now, I should clarify that I am using the word “restaurant” very loosely. The best description I can give for the place I worked is that we served Indian fast food. A chef in another city would make giant batches of basic Indian dishes, freeze them into small and large portion containers and we would store them in a big freezer in the basement. We would bring up a few of each at a time, allow them to defrost in the fridge and then microwave them as they were ordered, adding the appropriate vegetables and spice powder as requested by our customers. Our “kitchen” consisted of six microwaves, a grill for the “naan” (another loose term; think flat, wide hot dog buns), a rice cooker and a deep fryer for samosas and onion bhaji (the only thing we made ourselves). As you can imagine, we had very few repeat customers, except for the potheads who lived behind the restaurant and would wander in at closing and order “whatever that smell is, and five of them!”

Meanwhile, our dining room was decorated nicely, but lit like a McDonald’s, and the manager would often quietly play rap over the sound system. On top of all this, the owner, “D”, set prices that were nearly as high as the authentic, delicious, properly decorated and sufficiently staffed Indian restaurants in the area, and all of these things put together made for a restaurant that was almost always empty. Because of the low customer numbers, a number of things happened at the restaurant that made working there very difficult. For one thing, I worked almost every single shift alone. I would serve tables, “cook” the food, clean the kitchen and dining room and prepare delivery and takeout orders. Every so often, this would mean absolute, hair-tearing chaos for me, when all of a sudden there would be three tables seated, another customer wanting takeout and a delivery man coming in 10 minutes.

However, there were also many times when I would have nothing to do. As I was in university, I was okay with this – I would sit behind the till and do course readings. I always made sure that the book was hidden from sight, so that passersby wouldn’t know that’s what I was doing, but after a few shifts of doing this, I discovered that D would have his friends walk by the restaurant at random and report back to him what we were doing. He made a new rule that we were not allowed to read during our shifts and should be constantly finding work to do. When I showed him that there was actually nothing to do, that every aspect of the restaurant was spotless, he told me to clean things over and over so that I was always working, because he was not paying me to read.

All of this, so far, I could live with. He’s the owner and he was worried about money and the job was usually not that hard, so I was okay. Then, within the space of a few weeks, it became unbearable. First, a new manager was hired. He called a staff meeting and told us that since we worked by ourselves and couldn’t take breaks, we should be allowed to make food for ourselves for free. Within a week, D had threatened to put in security cameras and accused us all of stealing and when we confronted the manager, he said that he didn’t say we should tell the owner about our “free” (stolen) food! Next, I got a call from a girl who had ordered delivery and had found a cooked bee in her curry. I got in trouble for telling her to come in to the store and get a refund. Third (remember how the food was kept in a freezer in the basement?), I forgot to mention that to get to the basement, you had to exit the back of the restaurant, go down a flight of unlit, broken concrete stairs and go into a back room of someone’s apartment to get to that freezer. As the weather turned, the stairs became treacherous, and despite numerous requests for the stairs to be repaired or at least salted, nothing was ever done. Finally, and this was absolutely the last straw, two of my co-workers’ paycheques bounced.

I still remember the letter I wrote to D when I quit. “Due to a combination of incompetent management, safety concerns, unfair employee treatment and pay discrepancies, I will no longer be able to continue working in this establishment. Thank you for the opportunity.” The restaurant went out of business two months later.

MVWJ was at a YMCA working at the pool. I got this job right out of college thinking it would be a great in-between gig. I had been working at pools off and on throughout high school and college, teaching and lifeguarding. The boss hired me and the summer went by with relative ease until my boss decided to give me five days of 5am opening shifts and then quit. Since the pool was way understaffed and the head of the place didn’t have time to find anyone eles this meant I was the sole guard for seven hours. I had to keep a constant eye on the pool to make sure that no one drowned. This meant no eating, drinking, bathroom breaks or being able to have any sort of downtime. I started letting an unqualified co-worker watch the pool for less than 20 minuets so that I could eat and go to the bathroom. Then my boss told me she didn’t think I was working as much as I said I was. I told her I quit because I was so insulted and run down. She quickly backed off and begged me to stay telling me when they found a new manger things would get better.

Like a fool I stayed and soon after I got extremely sick. Since I was the only guard the pool would be closed until the high schoolers got off classes. The members were pissed and I would get constant calls asking if I could come in. Since I was bedridden and the Board of Health wouldn’t let me the answer was no, but they called everyday for two weeks. When I finally got back they had hired a new boss, who had no sympathy for how I had been over worked for months. So he had me work pretty much the exact same way except I got a 15 minute break after four hours of constantly supervising a pool where the deck temperature was 88 degrees. Whenever they could find someone to work with me they were either crazy or never showed up on time. One 40 year-old guy who worked there wouldn’t stop talking about my body. My boss finally talked to him and then he started acting aggressively angry towards me. A few days later he chased a supervisor of mine around threatening to hit him.

Another co-worker of mine who was a 45 year-old mom (I was 22) gave me the biggest overshare of my life. She out of the blue told me she went to an amusement park with two tampons in. Then she told me they got dislodged on the roller coaster and the she had to stand pantsless in a public bathroom while washing her shorts. I dont think my horrified expression went unnoticed, but it didn’t phase her at all. Finally, I decided to go get a lower paying job and regain my sanity and it worked. To this day I can’t believe how they treated me or why I worked there for so long.

After being unemployed for eight or so months, I got fed up of looking for jobs for what I really wanted to do and decided to simply get back into the working world one way or another. The unemployment check wasn’t cutting it and the indent I was getting on the couch certainly wasn’t helping my life at all. I began applying for any job I felt I could do well in order to get my resume beefed up a little more. I eventually landed a job as an Administrative Assistant that paid next to nothing, but offered more than unemployment and seemed like it would be a good step. On my first week working there, the individual who I was supposed to be directly working under was off because of his vacation. I was fitting right in and picking things up easily. At the end of that week, one of my coworkers gave me a warning regarding the person I was supposed to really be supporting and how this week as ‘easy’ and everything will go downhill from here. She then proceeded to tell me that I was the fourth person to be in my chair in 10 months and that they simply couldn’t get the right person for the job. I should have paid more attention to that warning but blew it off and figured nothing could be worse then a long stretch of unemployment and being completely broke.

The first day of D’s return from vacation, all hell broke loose. He would constantly be hovering over my desk watching me work which I said made me feel uncomfortable and slowed me down. He ignored that and would do it more. He would physically write full page emails he wanted me to send to people and ask me to type exactly as how he had written it. I was then to print out a copy, return it to him and wait for him to bring it back. He would bring these copies back full of red ink marks and exclamation points outlining mundane changes, like using a semicolon here instead of a period or introductory words like “hi there” needed to be “hey.” I made all changes and would return them to him and then he’d fine more problems with that and return it to be, full of red ink and corrections. These papers would go back and forth at least four times before he would finally be satisfied with whatever he had me change. I would waste hours upon hours doing this. A simple paragraph email would take nearly two hours to get to his satisfaction. I finally explained to him that I would be happy to type whatever he needed but it would be far more efficient if he would simply spend time on what he really wanted to say and keep it to a maximum of two revisions so I could focus on my work.

He got really heated and explained to me that he didn’t always know what he wanted to say and part of my job was to make sure he was getting out all the needed to be there. I took this issue to the boss and was ‘sat down’ and told that my problem was I expected perfection out of him and that I’m not perfect and I shouldn’t expect other people to do so. I looked at my boss completely in awe as to how he came to this conclusion and said I never said that nor do I believe that, but I think it is necessary to see where we can be more productive and efficient and this was a problem I recognized. I was yelled at for an hour and told my job was to be concerned with my work and typing emails and memos and I was too sensitive to do my job. One of my coworkers also asked me once to type something for him exactly as written. I did so and when I printed it out and returned it, he said it was garbage and incorrect. I asked what exactly did he see wrong and offered to correct it. He told me that he didn’t have time to babysit and train me (as he was playing on Mafia Wars) and balled the memo up and threw it at me. He said for me to go down to the local Barnes and Noble, purchase a book on how to do the job of an Administrative Assistant and figure it out.

My boss also decided one day, without telling me, that I was no longer hourly and I was instead a salaried worker. He said any overtime I did would not be paid any further (I had been putting in three or four hours a week of overtime) and I needed to be prepared to simply ‘work for free’ since they were doing me a favor by providing me a job. When it came time to discuss a raise, they refused to give me a dollar amount and instead offered to give me a ‘reduced tax payment’ which they simply moved my withholding status from a ‘0’ to a ‘2’ so I’d see more money per check. I eventually gained employment elsewhere doing what I love. When I gave my two weeks, my boss kept asking what my new role would be and was very pushy regarding my reasons for leaving. I explained I didn’t feel the need to tell him where I was going, that was between me and my new employers, but I was unhappy here.

On my last day of work, I deleted all of my emails and tried my best to wrap everything up. When it was time to receive my final paycheck, the money never arrived. When I called to inquire about it, they said by deleting emails I had destroyed company property and therefore vandalized their system and they were holding my last check as compensation of that. I explained that I never saw nor signed a computer policy while working there and that I had access to very sensitive information (credit card numbers, personal accounts, etc.) and that I felt by deleting those things I was removing liability from myself and the company. They insisted I was out to get them and so I had to have the state sue them for my check. Since then, they haven’t bothered me aside from tracking down where I work now and have called me once at my new job, but hung up as soon as I answered.

I grew up in very rural Northwest Missouri. The town population was about 600. So everyone knows everyone and when I was 14, I was a very popular babysitter. I became something of the “town babysitter” and parents used to fight to get me to watch their kids. One night, this one mom needed me to watch her daughter, so she and her mom could go to a wedding. I had watched the little girl once before, so it wasn’t a big deal. It was a quiet night and the little girl and I were playing and enjoying ourselves. A few hours go by and soon there is a knock at the door. I answer it and it’s another parent saying, “Hi, I heard there was child care? Here.. (hands me the kid) have fun honey” and walks off. Soon more and more parents start dropping their kids off. Keep in mind I’m only 14, so I was too scared and inexperienced to say anything to these “adults.” I eventually end up with 15 kids and the oldest was seven.

I was running around like crazy trying to keep each kid from crying, changing diapers, giving bottles, begging the seven year-old to help me with his little sister — it was pure pandamonium. The seven year-old was of course one of those kids who didn’t listen and was running around jumping off of things, knocking things over and kicking other random things. Finally after a few hours the parents return and most of them had too much to drink. None of them offer or bother to pay me for watching their kids. Finally, the original Mom gets back, hands me $10 and tells me to have a good night. I was so dumbfounded. How could they think it was okay to only pay me $10 for watching 15 kids? I went home and told my mom who was beyond mad. Luckily they never asked me to babysit for them again.

MVWJ was also my first job. No one wanted to hire someone with no experience. NO ONE. So what did I go through college for four years for? Well, I needed to earn money to pay off my student loan. So when I got instantly hired at a park, I was thrilled. The job was 70 miles away, but no one closer want to hire me.

I’m not bitter or anything.

Anyway, I applied in the food and beverage department. I was nervous, waiting in the waiting room with the snooty receptionist. Soon a balding guy in his mid-thirties came out. He grabbed my application, read it, and gave me the once-over. “Come in the back,” he said to me and nodded.

I went. He said, “So you just graduated, eh?” I said yes. “So you have no experience anywhere, right?” I said yes. He nodded thoughtfully, produced a piece of paper and gave it to me. “Read this,” he said.

As I did, he explained that they had an interviewer position available for college grads like me and he thought I was perfect for it. I was a little unsure, and I told him repeatedly that I would need training and had no experience whatsoever. He said that was fine and that I would be trained. I told him I had applied so many times and no one would hire me. He was sympathetic and friendly and I thought Sweet! My first job! Human Resources! Anyway, I preferred an office job to an outdoor one. I jumped on it.

(Heh.)

Well, after that, he said that my job was easy. All I had to do was ask the interviewee prepared questions, stuff like “Why do you want to work here?” etc. I thought it’d be a cinch since, now that I thought about it, I had plenty of experience in interviews, though always as the interviewee. Now I would be on the other side.

Well, a lady came in to fill an application, and my new boss said I would interview her and he would sit aside and watch me do it. I was VERY nervous. It’s one thing to do something you have never done, plus have your boss watching your every move. I was sure I would mess up and I hoped that he wouldn’t fire me.

He didn’t, even though I did stutter and when I held out the paper for her to take, my hand was shaking so bad, it was a wonder that she could grab it. I didn’t know who was more nervous, her or I!

Subsequently, he sat with me through one more interview, then all the sudden took me aside and said he thought my voice was too low and I sounded like a man. I’m a woman, and I though I knew my normal voice wasn’t angels’ harps, was shocked and a little offended by this. He said that I should pitch my voice up higher and made me try. I did my best, feeling like a fool, I talked in a little high squeaky voice. He said it was perfect and ushered me to do another interview. I thought, this is crazy, but did it anyway. So there I was, speaking like Mickey Mouse on helium, to the interviewee–a tough looking muscular guy who looked back at me like I was crazy. I didn’t blame him one little bit. Now I look back and think what I fool I was; I should have got the hell out of there, but I didn’t. I was young and naive and doing what I was told to.

Well, my boss told me later that I did a terrible job. “I was just doing what you told me!” I said and he shook his head in obvious disappointment and just walked away.

It got worse. Obviously, my boss now thought I was a weirdo, because he would take others’ side immediately. Once I was interviewing three girls at once in a group interview, (I had quit the Mickey act by now) which we were allowed to do when they came together. I didn’t see the point of this, but did it anyway. The problem was, as I immediately figured out, one girl would answer and the other two would agree with her.

Of course it was true. I would ask, “So what would you do if someone asks you a question you don’t know the answer to?” Girl #1 would say, “I would SO ask my manager.” Girl #2 said, “Yeah! My manager would, like, so know the answer!” Girl #3 said, “Yeah. What they said.”

The rest of the questions went similarly. I hired the first two girls, but not the third. Big mistake. Her mom called later, demanding to know why her precious daughter had not been hired when her two friends had and accused us of traumatizing and embarassing her. I thought that was ridiculous. My boss asked me what happened, and I said that the third girl just said, “Yeah. Uh huh. Yup.” Enthusiasm was a big part of getting hired, and he knew that. He stared at me like he didn’t believe me and overrode my rule and hired the girl anyway. I thought, fine whatever. He’s the manager. He gets the last word.

The 9-5 days were tedious, I only had two or three interviews, and the nothing to do for six hours. My boss gave me some envelopes to stick labels on. Great. I tried to ask for advice on how to do my job, since I still had NO idea, but my boss never had time for me. His door was open alright, so you could see him in it with his feet up talking to his wife or his friends. A VERY annoying habit of his was to frequently grab a soccer ball off his shelf, played wih it and bounce it at us while grinning and saying sorry. Then running around and doing it again 15 minutes later. I thought this attitude was VERY unprofessional and immature but said nothing. He’s the boss. You couldn’t walk down the hall with being afraid of getting hit on the butt with a bouncing ball. I also noticed only girls got hit. It was something else to see a middle-aged man acting like a spoiled three-year-old.

I was very lenient when interviewing, having gone through what they were going through to get a job. But soon a girl wearing old sweats, baggy holey shirt, and BED SLIPPERS came in to apply for job. I assumed she didn’t know we did interviews on the spot and asked her if she wanted to go and change and come back to be interviewed. She thought for a while, shrugged then said, “No, it’s all right. I don’t care.”

Dress appearance is a big factor in our hiring decision, it counts as one strike. Two strikes and you’re out, according to my boss. I said, “Okay….” and she answered a question wrong. Since it was two strikes, I didn’t hire her.

Later my boss asked me if her slippers were “really” that bad, and did I make a mistake? I told him exactly what she was wearing, and he frowned. Then he said, “Well, she comes from a really good school,” and I reminded him that I lived 70 miles away, how was I supposed to know which schools are good? He shrugged and later hired her, though tried to keep it a secret from me, but I found out.

I was shocked at what people would wear to be interviewed. It seemed that we got all the weirdos. Holes in their shirt, baggy jeans (a big no no) baseball caps, unwashed etc. I felt pity but also a need to do my job right.

One guy actually flashed me. His jeans were so baggy and heavy with thick chains out the enormous pockets that when he got up from the chair, his pants fell down on the floor. He quickly hitched them up again, but not before I saw he had no underwear. Eek!

The final blow came when we had a job fair and over fifty applicants came to apply, and yes, be interviewed. My past experience with group interviews was horrible, so I tried to see them one at a time to get a better feel of their personality. The result was that I wasn’t going to get through all of them. I was afraid I would be blamed, for, I don’t know, being too slow.

So I thought up an idea. I would interview them and do their paperwork tomorrow. I had a pretty good feel of who was a weirdo and who wasn’t, so I would write at the end of they passed or failed. I did it and got through all the interviewees quickly.

Next morning, I was all set to do the paperwork when I noticed it missing from my desk. Then my boss called me to his office and shut the door when I entered. Uh Oh. He threw the paperwork at me and said, “Care to explain this?” in an angry, tight voice, teeth clenched.

I said that I was going to do it today since I had plenty of time, it was perfect, I pointed out, since I had nothing to do all day. His jaw tightened as I explained, and threw another paper at me. Before I could read it, he said that he didn’t think it was working out and could I please resign by signing this?

I remember his cold eyes bored into mine almost hypnotically, like he was trying to get me to sign. I was in shock as all the blood drained from my body. I told him that I didn’t understand why he was firing me and he said that I was fired due to “my error of judgement.”  He said that would put my file into the rejection pile and flag it as “rejected forever” meaning that I was never allowed to work there again and he would probably burn it.

At this I pulled myself together and pushed the pen that he was pressing on me, and said with dignity it was all right if he didn’t want me to work there, I wouldn’t, since I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted. But I wasn’t signing anything and I did’t deserve this. As he sat stunned by my refusal, I rushed out of the office, grabbed my purse, and hopped on the interstate highway for home, upset.

I didn’t come back, and reading these stories, I realized that he was trying to cover his ass if I decided to collect unemployment. I didn’t, I didn’t even know about unemployment back then.

This was in 2002, and I had recently completed a degree in Theatre and Performance (yes, a VERY useful qualification). I had no idea how unprepared this would make me for the working world. I was panicking a bit in the months after graduation, so I leapt at the chance to work for a theatre company that was run by a friend of mine’s dad. I had met this friend at Drama School, and his dad was very well known, so I knew it was a legitimate company, not just some fly by night enterprise.

I went for an interview with Mr E, who told me that this job would involve managing the theatre, doing publicity, stage managing the shows (and doing the lights and sound) as well as handling the theatre dinner bookings. And all he could pay me was R2,000 a month (To put this into perspective: R2,000 is just under $200) but I was promised the glory of commission if I filled the theatre every night. I was filled with compassion for his heart wrenching speech about the realities of being an artist, and seduced by his lies of it being physically possible to fill the theatre EVERY night of the week when it was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. His idea was I put on my own shows….with what budget? Anyway.

I would drive the 40 km to work, be there at 8 a.m. and do all the dogsbody work in the office (I had to sort out the recycling for them on one memorable occasion), leave for the theatre at about 5pm, put up the show, handle the front of house, sweep the stage and leave when everything was over at about 11pm. R2,000 a month for a 15 hour day?

Not only that, I was also asked if my cell phone could be used as the booking line for the theatre. Naively I said ‘sure’, not realizing that I had to be available at ALL times for the theatre, from being called at 6am on a Sunday morning, to having dinners, movies and all kinds of social engagements interrupted by theatre goers. And if I wasn’t available I would get called in with a kindly, “Darling, don’t you love the idea of theatre? Please always be there for us…” from Mr E, the emotional blackmailing bastard. I lasted for four months. And now I lecture in the Drama Department of my Alma Mater!