How You Found Out I Am Quitting Is One Of The Reasons Why I Am Quitting

, , , , | Working | October 1, 2019

(My workplace is incredibly dysfunctional and the managers tend to be either lazy or crazy; there’s no in-between. My shift manager is incredibly vulgar. She also hates me and is very vocal about it for some reason. I finally decide to turn in my two weeks notice, but the owner has been AWOL for almost a week. I leave it on his desk in his office, which is always open, with the big letters “FOR [BOSS]” on the envelope. Ten minutes later:)

Shift Manager: “[My Name], can I get a hand with something in the walk-in?”

(I go into the walk-in, accepting my fate.)

Shift Manager: “Do you have something you wanna tell me?”

Me: “Um… no?”

Shift Manager: “Why the f*** are you quitting?!”

Me: “Why did you open up an envelope marked, ‘FOR [BOSS]’?”

Shift Manager: “Because I’m a manager! I can do whatever I want!”

(We proceed to have an uncomfortably long conversation of her trying to convince me to stay, which I decline.)

Me: “I almost got fired a month ago, [Shift Manager]. I’m not getting a raise and you don’t have the authority to give me one! This place also doesn’t make schedules, and I tend to just get texts late at night that say if I work the next morning or not!”

(I haven’t heard anything in a week.)

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It’s A Dog’s Life, Indeed!

, , , , , , | Related | August 1, 2019

My aunt is one of those people who treats her dogs like her biological children, but she takes it to the next level. Here are a few of the things that she does for them:

She feeds them only eggs for every meal.

She has rugs laid out so they don’t have to walk on the hardwood floors.

Every holiday, she gives them each a full human meal.

She has them open their own presents every Christmas and still gives gifts in their names — we’re all above the age of 25, by the way!

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Have You Tried Just… Not Being Epileptic?

, , , , , | Healthy | June 23, 2019

(For my first job, I work at a tanning salon. I have had epilepsy my whole life. During the interview, I explain everything to the general manager and the procedures in case I have one at work. Well, the inevitable happens and I have a seizure when it is just me and one coworker, with a store full of customers. One of the customers calls 911 and I wake up surrounded by the fire department. Naturally, I have to take off for a few days to recover. This is the conversation between me and the general manager as soon as I return for my next shift.)

GM: “[My Name], I need to see you in my office.”

(We sit down and she hands me a piece of paper.)

GM: “You need to sign this incident report.”

(I look over it carefully and sign it at the bottom. She looks at me sort of sideways and then continues.)

GM: “Why didn’t you just not come into work that day?”

Me: “Well, it’s not like I woke up and knew it was going to happen. I only have about ten minutes to one hour of warning. And I did call you almost exactly an hour before and told you how I was feeling. You told me to stay.”

GM: “Yeah, I didn’t think it was actually going to happen.”

Me: “Um, okay? Then what do you want me to do about that?”

GM: “You need to get a hold of yourself. I can’t have you seizing out in front of everybody and scaring away my customers. Did you skip your medicine or something?”

(I start to choke up and begin to cry because I can’t believe she just said something so rude, as if I can just control my disability whenever I feel like it.)

Me: “No, I didn’t skip my medicine. These things happen like clockwork every single month regardless, and you were fully aware of that at my very first interview. If I could control it like you seem to think I can, I would never have another seizure again. I can’t believe you just said something like that to me.”

GM: “Oh, don’t be so sensitive. Dry your tears and go clock in.”

(I just looked at her before I walked out of her office. This created a permanent wedge between me and the general manager. Neither one of us ever spoke of it again, and I didn’t have another seizure at work for the rest of the time I worked there. I eventually quit on the spot one day because I couldn’t handle the way she talked down to me like I was some insubordinate. Who would really say something like that to someone?!)

This story is part of our Epilepsy roundup.

Read the next Epilepsy roundup story!

Read the Epilepsy roundup!

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When Life Gives You Gay Lemons…

, , , , , | Right | June 21, 2019

(I work in a lemonade stand inside of a college football stadium, so, therefore, most of our customers are drunk college boys. We have two flavors: regular and sugar-free pink lemonade.)

Customer: “What kind of lemonade do you have?”

Me: “Well, we have regular and pink, which is sug—“

Customer: *cuts me off mid-sentence* “That’s gay! I’m not drinking pink lemonade. That’s gay!

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The World’s Oldest Profession Doesn’t Change

, , , , , | Friendly | June 7, 2019

(My friend and I are in the midst of a road trip and have pulled into a gas station. While I refuel the car, my friend goes inside to get us some drinks. There’s a woman in an extremely low-cut top hanging around by the door, and I can hear enough of what she’s calling to the people going by that I have a pretty good idea of what she’s doing. As my friend goes inside, he pauses and says something to her. Eventually, we all get back in the car.)

Me: “What’d you say to that woman?”

Friend: “Who?”

Me: “Over there by the door. I saw you talking to her.”

Friend: “Oh, it’s nothing. I just told her I didn’t have any change.”

Me: “Dude, she’s not begging. She’s a prostitute. She was propositioning you.”

Friend: “Wait, what?! I wasn’t listening! I just assumed she was asking for money!”

Me: “Well, technically, she was! She doesn’t do it for free!”

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