I had been working full-time as a receptionist for a year when I decided to take up part-time study. So I didn’t have to leave a job I loved, I suggested that we hire another receptionist to fill in for me on the days I’d be at uni. This seemed like the perfect solution to accommodate my new schedule. Jane was soon hired and she seemed nice and pretty eager to learn how the office worked.
A month later, the office began to fall apart. When coming in for my shift after Jane’s, I was greeted by a multitude of files strewn across the desk, an overflowing garbage bin and an answering machine filled with messages about unreturned calls. It was apparent that Jane was so lazy that most days it was like she didn’t come in to the office at all. I confronted her about the state of chaos she left the office in. She laughed off my concerns and told me to “calm down”. I was furious!
One day, I came in to the office and my boss pulled me aside. Before I could open my mouth he erupted with angry accusations: “You keep forgetting to water the foyer plants!” and “Were you rude to one of my clients last week?!” I wasn’t responsible for anything he was saying and I began to correct him when he cut me off: “I don’t care! Sort it out between yourselves — just get this place back in order!”
It just wasn’t fair. Not only was I constantly cleaning up after Jane and doing her part of the job. I was now getting in trouble for her!
No matter how many reminders I left for Jane or how many times I told her the rules, she ignored me. Now my boss wasn’t listening to me. I realised Jane was never going to pull her weight, but she was going to keep her job regardless. Something had to change. Brimming with frustration, I scowled at our desk covered in paper and mess. Suddenly, I had a stroke of genius.
My office had been supporting a local charity by selling chocolates on their behalf from our front desk. At the end of the day I phoned the charity’s local rep Tom, who happened to be a mate of mine, to let him know that we were out of stock and the money was ready for collection. “Yep, all the money is here — I counted it myself,” I confirmed.
I then delved into the box and pocketed half of the proceeds, knowing that Jane was working the next day and would be the one to hand over the box to Tom. A few days later Tom, who could hardly contain his disgust, told me what happened. Jane handed Tom the cash envelope and he counted it in front of her. Obviously, it was short.
“It’s all there — well, it should be” Jane nervously insisted.
Tom turned a bright shade of crimson. After realising that only half the cash was there he yelled: “How dare you steal from charity! You are the lowest form of human being!” Tom then demanded to see our boss while Jane was left at reception, tears steaming down her face.
My boss was horrified and fired Jane on the spot. The fact that she requested a pay rise she earlier in the week and had been turned down made her look guilty — even though she protested that she hadn’t stolen it.
I’ve since left the job, incensed by the way my boss refused to listen to me. I never told Tom the truth. But every time I see a charity chocolate stand, I make sure I buy a few to return the money that I actually stole!
All names have been changed. Picture posed by models.
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