Why I’m A Bad Person

October 9, 2007, 2:00 pm; posted by
Filed under Articles, Job  | 1 Comment

Best of Job, July 2006.

When I worked at CSJ, the bulk of my compensation was free education in the form of the school’s MBA program. While taking those classes, I also signed up for a web design course, because it was on a morning, between meetings, when I wouldn’t be doing anything else.

When I was tying up loose ends and preparing to leave for good, I got a bill in my campus mailbox for $7.97 in lab fees for that Web course. I know that’s just the price of dinner at Subway, but I was sure it was a mistake, and dropped it off with the accounting office on the way back.

The next day, it was back in my box, the $7.97 circled in red ink, with a note beside it — “Job, please pay this before you leave. Thanks.”

So I went back to my room, scared up my job description and found — in black and white — that my compensation included all tuition, lab and activity fees for any courses I took, up to 16 credits a semester.

With that in my back pocket, I went back down to Accounting and explained I was the men’s RD, and that I shouldn’t be charged. I was referred to the head registrar (the president’s wife). She told me the job description was mistaken, that RDs had paid lab fees for years.

I stared blankly.

“It’s not my mistake on the job description.” I signed a contract based on this — the typo was their problem, not mine.

It was an incredible standoff, one of the more surreal of my life.

She was “sorry,” but “she couldn’t see any way around the billing process,” without me having to pay it.

My boss had already quit and left, and my new boss was my brother — I couldn’t very well have him fight this for me. I felt so dumb that it was over $7.97, but the principle of the matter, and her inability to understand the simple reality of a contract dumbfounded me.

I was very angry. So I asked what would happen if I just didn’t pay it.

They would never release my transcripts.

So I left, not wanting to make the scene any sillier than it already was. At the time I figured I’d never care about the transcripts. But 2 semesters of a master’s degree being what they are, I knew I might eventually want them.

She kept sending me the bill. Once a week. Every week. With a real, live 37-cent stamp placed carefully in the corner. And I remained filled with unholy rage.

So I waited — and I counted the stamps. After week 22, they had spent more money on the stamps to collect the bill than what the actual bill was worth.

22 theses nailed to their door…

 

And I finally found my peace to pay the $7.97.


Comments

1 Comment to “Why I’m A Bad Person”

  1. Jesse on October 9th, 2007 3:56 pm

    I loved this one. Although I’m not sure I ever would have paid it.

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