Work place nightmares?

We've all had that one job. Let me tell you about the few months I spent in call center hell.
There's this place in South Charlotte called iQor.

What is iQor, you ask? The ghetto of call centers. And I don't use the term ghetto often, but this is one time where it FITS.

Located in the headquarters of a national department store, people who work for the "blue" company shiver when they see the iQor employees come their way. As a matter of fact, day one of training, my class was told the story of a chick who was fired for stealing bacon from the cafeteria. Bacon. Hidden. In. Grits. Job gone.

One day, we went out on the floor — as a part of training to see what the job would be. Two employees tweaked down the middle of the aisle. Why was I here? Oh, yeah, my unemployment ran out.

OK. It's just a job. I have a career. And I had an interview in my field. So, we got into the actual job after training was over. 

All of that stuff you learned in training was a waste of time because it was all wrong. 

I'm not going to say everyone who worked there was crazy, but 95 percent of them, including the Supervisors were. 

Case in point, a supervisor and an employee had a conversation on the floor, while people were on the phone trying to get folks to pay their light bills, about the employee's plans to get her girlfriend pregnant with her baby daddy's sperm and a turkey baster. 

Yeah. 

But the coupe de merde came when a white woman —who thought by the insertion of her baby daddy's black penis gave her some special entrée in to the black race asked one day, why couldn't she say the N-word. 

I told myself to keep quiet. 

Myself didn't listen. 

"Brittney, why don't you go home and say the N-word."

"I can say what I want."

"You say it in here, you won't say it again."

Here comes the Supervisor telling everyone to be quiet as if this was Mrs. Carmen's Day Care center. I looked at this black woman and said, "You need to tell her to shut up."

Her reply, "Cheris, I'm talking to you too."

"You need to tell that girl she needs to watch her mouth because she has one time to drop the N-word."

Then some other folks got up and loud. And what does Brittney do? She starts crying. But still popping that yang about she can say what she wants. 

I quit a week later. Then I started at Wonderland. . .From Shit to shitter. 

Tell me about your work place nightmares in the comments below.