I went back to school after a few years away and I'm looking for a job near campus that can pay my rent. I decided to apply to be a clerk at a bookstore down the street as it's well established and eccentric enough that it makes a news story every few years. I love books and spent years working in special collections for a different college library not to mention my retail experience, so I expected to at least be able to showcase why I'd be a good fit.
The clerk who gave me the application warned me it had a test attached and I'd need to make extra time. I didn't have anywhere to be so I stuck around. The packet in total took me close to an hour. After the general application questions were literature questions that honestly made me feel unenlightened. They asked about the regions Eudora Welty wrote about, Button Gwinnett's occupation, Bible verses. What Alfred Stieglitz did, even though his name was misspelled on the test. I don't like the Stones so I didn't recognize one of their lyrics, but I'm expecting less sympathy for that lol. Surely they were all famous names, but the majority were titles and authors I just hadn't encountered yet. I like Audré Lorde over Sir Walter Scott, what can I say?
The clerk got the manager after I was finished, but I didn't realize she was the manager at first because she came out without greeting me or looking me in the eye. The first thing she did was to glance at my application and say, “Oh, you're at X school? We don't usually hire students because we have day shifts. What days are you available?”
At this point I was pretty irritated. Why wouldn't a bookstore hire students from next door? And she was clearly more interested in my application than talking to me, so I was smart and said I'm available for most of them, and that my availability was listed in my application.
The manager looked me in the eye for the first time and said, “Well, I'm asking you.” At this point I politely asked for my bag from behind the counter and said I was leaving. The manager apologized for being tired (at 3pm). I said it's not her fault and she said, “I know!”
I was thrilled to walk out of that place.
Surely people have worse stories than mine, but the moral here is to please know your worth and not to swallow garbage for minimum wage retail.