Fish And Shipped Out Unjustly

The very first real job I ever had (besides delivering papers) was at a fish-and-chips chain restaurant, and the franchise was owned by a husband and wife. I started out as a dishwasher and ended up working on the line as a cook within about five months due to the high turnover.

With my departure from the dish pit, we needed another set of hands. A friend of mine dropped off her resume and was hired on the spot — great! Due to further turnover, she too ended up in the kitchen, and an older man was hired for the dishes. For reference, I am also female.

To my friend and me, this was an amazing arrangement, and we felt really special. From the outside looking in, it was illegal in so many ways; we were fourteen years old and essentially ran the entire kitchen from 3:30 pm to 10:00 pm every night, including school nights. Our parents were both very old-fashioned and believed this hard work would be good for us, so they also were none the wiser about the legalities of it.

One day, we were scheduled for our regular shift, but midway through school, I was called to the office and dismissed early from school. My grandfather had fallen down some stairs, broken his hip and knee, and been rushed into surgery. He survived and was fine, though he now walks with a permanent limp, but in that moment, it was incredibly scary, and due to his medical state, the doctors were extremely concerned.

On the way to the hospital with my mom, I texted my friend that I’d be either late or absent, and I called the restaurant owner to advise the same. He said it was no problem, to take the night off, and he would cover for me. My friend said the same, and it ended up being a super slow evening anyway; Mondays always were.

The next day, I went to school and work as normal. It was Tuesday, which was All You Can Eat Fish & Chips Day — INSANITY every Tuesday. We would not get a break or any relief between the 4:00 pm early birds and the 7:30 pm late diners; it was constantly hectic between those hours. The only relaxation we had was when it slowed down around 8:00 pm. The dishwasher no-call-no-showed, so my friend and I were pulling double duty by keeping a constant flow of food and clean dishes.

At 8:30, the owner came up to me.

Owner: “[My Name], pop in the office, and let’s chat.”

Me: “Is everything okay?”

Owner: “You lied to me.”

Me: “Sorry? About what?”

Owner: “Your grandfather didn’t go to the hospital; that was a lie. You no-showed to work to go party.”

Me: “Um… what? No, that’s not true! You can even call my mom!”

Owner: “I looked at your [old, obsolete social media website that no longer exists], and you posted a photo of yourself with a bunch of teenagers last night.”

Me: “You mean my cousins? At the hospital?”

Owner: “It doesn’t look like a hospital.”

Me: “It literally is. Look!”

I showed him the photo on my phone and pointed out the hospital chairs and window behind us.

Owner: “No, you’re a liar, and I don’t employ liars who make up such vulgar fibs to get out of work.”

Me: “I have never missed a single day of work! Ever! I’m always here right after school and stay until after closing to finish my work! I’m sorry, but please call my parents and ask them!”

Owner: “I’m going to have to let you go.”

I started to cry softly and went back into the kitchen. In my inexperienced and childish mind, I had to finish my shift and duties… so I continued doing dishes!

After about twenty minutes, the owner walked over.

Owner: “I fired you! Get out!”

My parents took an hour to come to pick me up as they were busy when I called, so I sat behind the restaurant in an alley crying. My friend quit the next day after hearing what had happened; she thought I had gone home early to spend time with my grandfather.

The restaurant declined severely in quality and service, and it ended up being sold to a new owner a few years later after the previous one cited “staffing issues”. I wonder why!