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Ah fuck, I got fired

EE

19:34 / 23.09.03

Apparently, when you're a waiter and you give a tip back it's a "negative guest confrontation". I guess I should've known that before, but fuck it. Two dollars on a forty-five dollar meal? Screw you, jack. Keep your fucking two dollars.

But I can't deny that I had it coming. That was probably the fifth or sixth time I've given a tip back. Then there was the time I set the back of the restaraunt on fire with a ciggarette, and my continual cursing while on the dining floor. And to tell the truth, I've never made a secret of my intense hatred for the customers, who ruin all my fun. And my drug use was pretty well known throughout the restaruant. And I'm a pretty shitty server to boot. In fact, I've recieved three or four notes from some of my tables telling me as much. Hell, one of them wasn't even a note. The customer had just written "bad waiter!" on the credit card slip (it was even underlined).

So yeah, I guess I deserved it. Besides, there are worse things to be fired for. A fella I worked with got fired when it was discovered that he would occasionally dip his testicles in unruly customer's drinks. Imagine explaining that to your next employer.

So what's the dumbest shit you've ever been fired for?

Scrambled Password Bogus Email

09:18 / 24.09.03

Being 'a right midfielder, when you're supposed to be playing left back'.

No, I don't play football. This was from a recording studio owned by none other than Mike Stock, of Stock, Aitken and Waterman. I still. don't know what the fuck he meant, or what I was booted for.

Perhaps because I told all his other engineers and assistants that he was an old-school dinosaur cunt who wasn't paying them nearly enough. And it was only my third week.

Scrambled Password Bogus Email

09:22 / 24.09.03

Also from a waiting job! For turning up to work on Saturday morning, having spent Friday night at the Zap in Brighton imbibing copious quantities of pharmaceuticals. Made apparent by the fact my eyes were bulging out of my head on stalks and the whites were completely consumed by the pupils.

And then serving a table of 4 Boys in Blue with coffee and pastries.

The chef suggested I go home and have a lifetime off.

EE

17:03 / 24.09.03

This was the only time I've been fired. The job itself wasn't hard to replace, but now I've got to go through the trouble of meeting everybody at the restaraunt I work at presently.

Maybe I ought to just leave the food service industry. I was lulled in by promises of attractive women and no drug testing, but I quickly came to realize that it was not all getting high and hanging out with beautiful people. Almost everybody who works in restaraunts these days is a complete loon.

Ah, who am I kidding. I'll never leave. It's too much fun.

21:07 / 24.09.03

Never been fired but the nearest I came was when I was a barman and somebody asked for tequila (this was the seventies in Edinburgh and nobody asked for tequila). I poured a measure from the bottle marked Tequila. "Where's my salt," he asked. I picked up the salt cellar and poured some in. "That enough?" says I.

I was such a shit barman. I deserved to be fired. Or trained properly.

Whisky Priestess

22:56 / 24.09.03

EE

Sorry mate, but coming from the stingy old UK where you still have to earn your tips, I can't weep salt tears for you. Sure, get fucked off about a lousy tip if you've been a stand-up waiter throughout the meal, not screwed up their orders, been polite and generally provided decent service, but as by your own admission you're a bit shit, why do you expect to be rewarded for doing your job badly?

Customers are generally a bunch of bastards, though; there you have my sympathy. Threadrot and I'm sorry. My best quitting was simply walking out of a kitchen job in the most expensive restaurant in Oxford after an hour, because it was so shit and I didn't need the money *that* much.

And then there was the time I was fired for what was basically admitted to be not getting on with the boss. And the time the mad PR woman (average: 1 temp fired every 2 weeks) made up a three page fax of things I hadn't done and sent it to my agency, where it was quietly filed in the bin. This was the woman who had fawned over me and offered me the job permanently two weeks previously. And the time I simply left town, taking my staff T-shirt with me ... the time I started turning up later and later, and once a bit drunk, until they got the hint.

Live fast, consider yourself dispensable, it's fun to be a temp.

01:14 / 25.09.03

I used to work for this furniture company where I was sort of an all-around trainee: this day on the showroom, that day at the factory, another day on the truck, etc. One fine summer evening the boss offered to take me and two other guys who were working in the showroom that day to dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby, which I thought was just lovely. One of the other guys backed out, which should've been a signal, as the third guy went way back with this particular employer. I had the veal and a couple of glasses of a very fine red, and had the best conversation with the boss's wife about, I think, legalizing prostitution. Something to do with prostitution. I walked home feeling rather chipper in that mildly drunk on a summer night way. You know what I'm saying.

Three days later, I was in the stockroom, which had a section where we would keep slightly worn floor models to sell on the cheap, repairing the bottom of a bed whose footboard had come loose. It was just a little wobbly, but I had to crawl under it and lay on my back to tighten it. And, you know, to be perfectly honest, I was a bit tired and I might've taken the opportunity to have a little unscheduled snooze. Just a really light, resting-my-eyes kind of a snooze, you know, not a nap or anything. I mean, I'd been up all night playing Tekken with my roommate the night before, so I was a little pooped. Perfectly understandable, I think.

Anyway, suddenly the boss is standing over me. He tells me he's not going to support my bad habits (he's a recovering alcoholic) but he's going to give me a chance to explain to him why he should pay me to sleep on the job. He's going to give me a few minutes to think about it and I should come up to the showroom when I've come up with a good excuse. Then he sort of wobbled off--he is not in the fittest of trim, if you catch my drift.

So, I sat on the wobbly bed for a minute and thought about it. To help me think, I lit a joint. And of course, the perfect answer came to me in a flash! I marched right upstairs, knocked a bunch of orders onto the floor, and tell Todd he can go fuck himself.

And then I got on welfare, which is totally a sweet deal. Everyone should do it.

08:36 / 25.09.03

That'e really funny Qalyn. I just pissed myself laughing at work and everyone looked at me funny.

After that, my fired story isn't too bad. I used to get stoned alot before working in a particular bar in Canterbury. The management didn't like that, but thought that's just the way I was, as I was always like it. Anyway, one day someone grassed me up and told them I was a stoner, and I knew they were onto me and they needed proof.

Soon after, they had a competition to see who could take the most in one night. This was clearly to be used as ammunition against me when they cam to sack me, so I decided to take the most. As lazy as I admittedly am, I can work if I want to and will if it's busy. So anyway, I won this competition and saw the boasses giving ewach other "oh shit, nevermind" looks.

The next week when I went in, I'm chatting toi this bloke about PWEI and one of them comes over and asks if she can have a word outside and says they're terminating my employment because I'm stoned. However, that day I decided not to smoke before going in... and so was feeling a little chippier anyway, and a bit pissed off that they'd just said that. Knowing I wasn't going to successfully argue my job back, I asked her if I could at least finish my shift with my friends and tried to look sad and she said that was fine.

I wasn't that bothered: I had my bag, and the keys to the spirit cupboard.

10:12 / 25.09.03

One summer I got a week's casual work through a friend of a friend delivering bacon for a meat packing firm. I got extremely drunk the night before I was due to start and turned up for work reeking of massive hangover. In fact one of the first things I did when I arrived for work was to use the toilets to throw up in. My first job was to drive a 7.5 tonne refrigerated lorry of bacon to a depot in Norfolk, about 4 hours drive, which was fine, though I wasn't all that used to driving a vehicle with sensitive air brakes. I got there in the end, though not without a few jolts along the way.

When I got to the depot I had an embarrassingly long few minutes trying to back the lorry into a loading bay, but managed it in the end. They opened up the back of the lorry and saw that not only had I forgotten to turn on the refrigerator, but that my poor driving had meant that the bacon, which was sliced but not packed in plastic, had been flung off its pallets and out of its boxes and was mostly sloshing around on the warm filthy floor of the lorry.

I can only guess what angry exchanges took place on the phone between these packers and the people I was working for, but eventually the people accepted the warm dirty meat (no doubt at a substantial discount) and I drove back. When I got back I walked into the boss' office to hand the keys in. Thankfully I think he just couldn't be bothered to hand me my arse, and I just sort of said goodbye, no question of asking for any wages or asking what time I should turn up the following day, and I just walked out. I didn't know whether to put this in this thread or Jock Denfeld's funniest job-quitting thread because I really don't know whether I resigned or was sacked.

Less searchable M0rd4nt

12:36 / 25.09.03

Whiskey: Well, yeah, but at least you can just about live on the UK's minimum wage sans tips, which you really can't do in the States.

Neer been fired myself, but this supposedly happened to a guy I used to know.

He worked at a supermarket where for some reason he had access to the database-- you know, the information regarding which product goes with which bar code. Turning up for work one day magnificently stoned, he decided to have a little fun.

He was booted from work when every single item in the store started coming up on the register as "Elephant, 999.99".

15:03 / 25.09.03

I've been fired for all manner of reasons, and also I've quit a number of places, but that was before I found "The Right Field" (touch wood!).

The best reason I ever got fired for was wearing my hair in bunches to work. At a factory. In the middle of nowhere.

Also there was the time I spent an evening assembling some sort of circuitry in the wrong order in which they were supposed to be assembled. Ooops! Just not too spacial visually inclined!

Ah, don't worry too much. At least you weren't fired for not wearing enough "flair."

EE

16:05 / 25.09.03

Maybe not, but I was disciplined several times for my tie not being "zany" enough. At the Macaroni Grill, "zany" means at least three colors, don't you know.

Fuckers. Maybe things will be different at this upscale chinese restaraunt I'm at now.

16:46 / 25.09.03

i got canned on tuesday, but it wasn't for an exciting reason.

the company i worked for is my friends, and he just hasn't got any money to buy my time anymore.
i feel a bit like i was dumped, but in that melancholy way, not the angry way.

less huggles, more offers of work, though.
if you can.

oh, where i used to work?

KLICK

yawn knows.

he was there.

um.
i was trying to think of a way to make it funny, but i can't.

Goodness Gracious Meme

18:29 / 25.09.03

Like Whiskey I was fired as a temp more times than i can remember...was great fun...

A film company waited until i'd spent three weeks completely overhauling their databases so they actually worked before firing me as i 'didn't have the right look'.

I was sacked from one PA job for, I suspect, being the first woman ever to talk back to my twat of a boss. I informed him that it was my job to managed his office/diary.

And that it wasn't my job to lie to his wife about his wherabouts, send chocolates to his mistress and book dinner dates for him and his boyfriend.

He told me that my job was anything he deemed it to be, and that his usual PA didn't mind. I told him that she was a doormat and to fuck off.

Much fun. My agency were similarly unconvinced by his letter to them saying that i had 'a bad attitude'.