First Sex and the Second Cup

In a cold cold day of January in Toronto, I walked into one of those fancy looking branches of The Second Cup, the chain coffee shop. I was looking for a second shift job; thank Air Canada's Mr. Milton who ruined canadian airline industry and put thousands of skilled workers out of job. I asked for the manager immediately. She was so busy with running this money making machine and serving coffee. I asked if they have any opennings, she asked for a resume. "I don't have any coffee shop experience" I responded. "But I still need to see your resume." she said.
Next day I went there with a useless IT resume in hand, after almost half an hour the manager said I am busy, just leave the resume and we will contact you. I did that. Long story short, after two weeks going back and forth she called and said wants to see me. Then handed me a video and wanted me to watch it and come back next day for two hours work. I watched the video very carefully and took some notes, reviewed the notes several times and went there next day. By the way, I forgot to mention, all the other workers in that store were females except one guy who was from the same country as the manager was originally. Next day I went there and began the job. Then at the end of the shift she said that I have to work 20 hours voluntarily so that she could decide whether I am a "suitable person" for this job or not. Yes! You read it right: twenty freaking hours of free labor for a simple job of selling a crappy cup of coffee or wiping the tables. And you guessed it right, I needed the job so I agreed to commit to this shameful slavery. "You need to correct one thing." she added at the end. "Correct what?" I said. "You have to be louder when you are serving the customer". She said.
Next day, she wasn't there. I began my job with enthusiasm. My co-workers told me to relax, it's just a simple work and bluh bluh bluh. Then suddenly, the manager appeared as a customer and asked for a muffin and she grabbed her son and sat right in front of the counter to observe from a customer’s perspective I suppose. Next day I had to start at 12:00. I grabbed the key of the changing room to hang my jacket. The manager came close to me. "What time were you supposed to start your job?" She asked with a grumpy face. "12:00" I said and looked at the big Second Cup clock on the wall. It was 12:04. I didn't have my watch with me to compare my time and see if I was late or it was just a asynchronous time difference. "You are always late. I have to send you home." She said while she was wiping the counter. I was surprised. Because I never was late before, besides this was my third working day and she wasn't even there on the previous day. "But…" I couldn't finish my sentence. She said the same thing and left pretending busy.

On my way home I tried to flash back and see what I did was wrong. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Here is a thought. I am an ordinary boring looking guy and not attractive enough to attrack the shoppers in to the store as opposed to the other Second Sexers behind the counter who can attract the customers to stay for the second cup. It's the only explanation I could come up with. What do you think?