Is There a Book About all the Funny, Odd, and Peculiar Things that Happen on These Jobs?

 

October 1, 2025 workday

Is There a Book About All the Funny, Odd, and Peculiar Things That Happen on These Jobs?

It happened to me again—this time courtesy of a retail manager.

I was in the middle of filling out a required report, something that only takes a few minutes. Before I could finish, she clocked me out on the register I was using. Technically, it was done more politely than the last time, but it still lacked basic courtesy. There were three registers available, yet she had to use the one I was on to serve a guest. Why not just send me home nicely? She did ask, “Are you ready to leave early, Connie?” And yes—I was absolutely ready. Home is my castle.

But I still had to print out the report we’re required to complete before leaving. It’s the net retail sales report, which includes categories like conversion rates and total sales during the shift. We also get a large “bingo sheet” to track sales goals, and that’s not enough—we have to transfer numbers from the printed report onto a separate form. I’ve never understood why, since the information is already there, but I comply. The form asks how many promotions, totes, and rewards we sold, whether we were in uniform, and more. Since I started in February, the number of questions has grown.

So there I was, trying to finish this report, and the manager logs me off the register to serve a guest. She says, “I’ll just clock you out,” which, to me, is not polite—especially after I’ve just worked three solid hours. Her initial is L.

I shuffled down the line to finish the report off the clock. The courteous thing would’ve been for her to use one of the other registers and let me finish while still on the clock. Then, once she was free, she could do the required pocket check.

As I moved to another spot, I said, “Well, that’s fine—I’m almost done with the report anyway.” I finished it while she continued serving guests. Then came the awkward part: I stood there, taking off my apron like a stripper in front of two or three guests. Maybe I should’ve walked to a more private spot, but had she waited for me to clock out properly, that moment wouldn’t have happened.

I don’t know what it is about the register I use—it’s like a hot commodity. Managers seem to love pushing me aside to take over. It’s rude.

On a brighter note, I did get my two-star aprons today. I’d placed them under the counter, and L was kind enough to hand them to me before I left. I felt like a surgeon with an assistant handing me a scalpel at just the right moment. I don’t carry those things on me.

Still, I stand by this: she should’ve used another register and let me finish the report on the clock.

Not having a permanent place to store things at work is unsettling. I feel lost without my regular handbag. And while L was more polite than the last manager who clocked me out mid-task, it still wasn’t right to make me finish company work off the clock.

The first time this happened, the shift leader simply said, “I’m taking over.” That register I use must be magnetic—it draws them in. But pushing aside an employee who just gave you three hours of labor? That’s just plain rude.