Now Serving Vanilla, Strawberry, And Pig’s Blood

(I hit my head in the cooler on the big cooling unit while stocking the beverages. My head starts bleeding profusely. I run into the bathroom to try to stop it, but blood keeps pouring down my face like a scene out of Carrie.)

Coworker: “Are you okay?”

Me: “No. Dan you call my husband to come get me? And call [Boss] to have him come cover my shift.”

Coworker: “I’ll be right back.” *calls people* “[Boss] says he doesn’t want to come back in because he already worked today. Your husband is on his way.”

Me: *still bleeding* “What does he mean he doesn’t want to come in? It’s his job! I can’t keep working like this!” *points to head wound*

Coworker: “I have a line out front. Do you need anything?”

Me: “No, I’ll just wait in here until my husband comes.”

(My husband arrives with another family member to drive my car home. As I am exiting the building, the phone rings. Out of reflex I answer it; it’s the boss.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name], [Coworker] says you’re going home because you hurt yourself?”

Me: “Yes, I hit my head and I’m bleeding. My husband is here; I’m going home.”

Boss: “Well, we can’t leave just one person working…”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you, [Boss], but it’s up to you to figure out. I’m going home.”

Boss: “Well… can you stay? I already worked today. I don’t feel like coming back in.”

Me: “Can I STAY?! I’m bleeding profusely from a head wound and I look like Carrie at the prom. If you want me to make sandwiches and scoop ice cream and bleed all over the food, you can take that up with the health department yourself. But I’m going home.”

Boss: “Well… can you call [Different Coworker]? I really don’t feel like coming in.”

Me: “She already worked today, too. She’s not going to want to come in. It isn’t my job to find coverage for my shift when I get hurt at work. I’m going home. Goodbye.” *hangs up*