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That feeling when your boss invites you to their office. |
I found out recently that my boss probably wouldn’t rehire me
next year. “Probably wouldn’t” was her nice way of saying “definitely not”. I
hid under the cover of her cushion words. She explained to me that there were
certain things I’ve done this year that have been “concerning”.
“To me,
it’s a given that you don’t eat at the desk.”
Oh. That. Maybe I’ve snuck a
biscuit or two. Okay, there was one time that I snuck a sandwich. One customer
did say to me once that she was sorry to interrupt my lunch, which is not the
first thing you want a client to be thinking of, I’ll admit.
As my
boss continued, I was torn between cringing, laughing at my own idiocy, and sobbing.
“Apparently
customers have been told misleading information, or something that is
completely wrong. I had a report last week that a customer was told that they
needed a licence for their account. I don’t know if it was you, but you were
the only one on the desk.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but also as if
she had no doubt that it was me.
I didn’t even know we had
licences here, but I nodded like a good little worker.
“No one
else has breaks,” she continued more bluntly. “I heard you have fifteen minute
breaks.”
Okay, now I had to speak. “I
think I might have had a fifteen minute break once, but then someone told me
that it was five to ten minutes.”
She nodded half-committedly.
“Five minutes. Just to go to the toilet and get away from the desk. Not more
than that.”
I sighed silently through my
nose. I wish they’d be consistent. Maybe the supervisor who I’d talked to had
been cushioning me, and that was working against me now. I thought it was
normal to have a five/ten minute break.
My boss also mentioned that I’d
asked the supervisors questions that had been covered in training. “First
semester I thought, ‘She’s new, she’ll learn.’ But second semester, you still
asked some things we felt you should have known.” I know what process she’s
referring to. I thought the supervisor had been happy that I was asking
questions to help me improve. I guess that improvement came a little late.
“The others just seemed to pick
it up a bit quicker,” she said, referring to my peers at the desk. “Given
another semester, maybe you’d be fine,” she added for my benefit, offering a
hypothetical possibility that will never happen. “Yeah, there were just a few
things that were a bit... concerning.”
I guess I’d passed the point of no return. I
nodded my way through the silence. The muscles around my eyes and forehead felt
oddly strained.
“But you’ll have a great time in
Bath,” my boss said with a smile, obviously more than happy to change the
subject. “It’s a beautiful city. One of my favourites.”
I could tell she felt so much
better knowing that I had other plans anyway. I’d told her when we first sat
down. I wasn’t sure if she knew already. She seemed to expect to talk about my
plans next year when I’d emailed her to arrange this meeting. It turned out she
had other reasons for wanting to discuss that topic.
“Well, I’m sorry for doing
so...badly,” I said lamely.
She dismissed my words with a sound
in her throat. “It’s not that you were bad. It’s just... a few things.”
A few things that made all the
difference.
I think I did take this job for
granted, a little bit. We got paid heaps. I should have at least revised the
training. And I think a part of me knew that reading on the desk and eating
snacks would not reflect well on this organisation.
I’d been so used to my waitressing
job, where I could get away with whatever—turning up late (even if I make up
for it later), doing homework behind the counter (even if I only ever do that
when there’s absolutely nothing else to do and I’m going mad with boredom). But
I can’t expect for one organisation’s expectations to be the same as
another’s—especially when one pays double the other’s wage.
As the meeting rounded up, my boss talked a little about the
climate in Bath, and then I shook her hand and thanked her for the opportunity
to have this job for a year. I meant it with full sincerity. Even though it
might not have been up to standard, I felt like I learnt a lot at the job, and
I’d discovered a sense of accomplishment and pride when I could help a student
through their difficulties. I found that sometimes people don’t necessarily
need lots of help; sometimes they only want reassurance that there’s someone
else who has been through the same troubles. They seemed to appreciate my empathy
and compassion just as much as my technical assistance.
I walked out of the office with
the feeling of disappointment already ebbing into calm; I felt sure that
something else would come along.
The other day at the Chinese restaurant
where I work, a lady who was waiting for her take away told me about how she
was been treated poorly at her work, and that she would probably be laid off
soon.
“That’s awful,” I said.
She shrugged. “I believe
something else will come along. There’s a reason for everything.” Although she
was holding a fortune cookie in her hand, I felt like these were words that
came from deep inside her.
I think my sister is running on a
similar mentality. She flat out refused to get a waitressing job when she
returned from her extended holiday a few months ago. It took a few months, but
she has now has a contract with an old work contact. They are even willing to
work around her uni schedule.
I know I stuffed up at my new
job, but if I learn from it then I’ll be even better at my next job. Bath will
give me a whole range of new skills and allow me to expand my writing folio. I
can keep submitting work to competitions and build a name for myself. It’ll
take a while, but every little thing counts.
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