No Pay Is Worth This Kind Of Pain

(Note: at the coffee shop where I work, the manager is the father of the assistant manager, who is his daughter. I’m calling in sick as I’ve been in injured in a car accident and am hospitalized.)

Me: “Hi, [assistant manager], it’s [my name]. I’m so sorry, but I’m in the hospital.”

Assistant Manager: “What? You don’t work today.”

Me: “I know, but I was hit by a car and have a concussion. I can’t make it in tomorrow, but I should be okay on Sunday if I just work in the back.”

Assistant Manager: “What? Are you kidding?” *talks in the background* “Nah, don’t worry about it. Don’t come in.”

Me: “Are you sure? Okay, thank you! I’ll be in Monday, the usual time, okay?”

Assistant Manager: “No.”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Assistant Manager: “No. If you come in on Monday, turn in your uniform and don’t come back.”

Me: *speechless*

Assistant Manager: “You’re so full of bulls***.” *hangs up*

(I still come by that Monday, not sure what to expect. I’m in a neck brace and limping slightly.)

Manager: *sees me and gasps*

Assistant Manager: *rolls her eyes* “Whatever…”

(I didn’t care to deal with these jerks anymore, so I tossed my uniform on the counter, flipped the assistant manager the bird, and limped out.)