Please fire me. My boss is a homophobic sexist and racist overweight white man. Since Trump has came out with his ideas he keep trying to talk me into voting for him. I’m a Mexican with a immigrant dad and my mom’s parents were immigrants. Also one time he talked to me about his sex life and how every 20 year old wants him. GAG!
Please fire me. I work at an coffee shop near an Ivy League campus and these spoiled, rich students are generally terrible customers. And one time, a parent of one of these kids came in, and was digging around for the change for her coffee. When she realized she didn’t have it, she reached her slimy old hand into my tip jar and pulled out the change she needed!
Please fire me. I’m a paediatric surgical assistant who had to repeatedly explain to a famous footballer that his child is going to have to wait for me to stitch up her finger. It is the middle of the night, there is nobody else available and I need to oversee a critically ill child going into surgery in order to stop them dying. The footballer in question then demanded to see my superior and my superior’s superior, all the while demanding “Do you know who I am?!” Yes sir, you’re a nasty man with an inflated ego whose kid has a boo-boo.
Please fire me. I work at a small bookstore in an airport. Because of our limited space, we’re very strict about what titles we carry: we only keep books that sell. Sales are carefully monitored and if something isn’t selling at a sustainable rate, it’s pulled from the shelves.
One book we don’t sell is the Bible. We periodically have customers asking for a Bible, but aside from mild annoyance, they rarely make an issue when we inform them we don’t have any. However, I had a customer come in a few weeks ago and ask where we kept our Bibles.
“I’m sorry, we don’t carry any Bibles,” I told her.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Our store is small and we don’t have the room for them,” I said.
“No room, huh?” she said. She pointed to a book on display called Ghost Bride. “But you have room for books on ghosts?”
“It’s one of our staff picks for the month.” It was my staff pick, actually. “If you’re interested, we do have a small religion section.”
She grumbled a bit, but let me take her to the shelf of religion books to browse. She returned to the register a few moments later with a used copy of A Purpose-Driven Life. I rang up her book and handed it to her, thanking her for her purchase. She lingered by the register, packing her book into her luggage, gathering up her bags, checking to make sure she had her boarding pass and ID.
Once she was all situated, she straightened, looked me in the eyes and announced, “I will PRAY for this store,” and swept out.
The next day I told this story to a coworker who’s been at our location for 7 years. After I’d finished the story (and he’d finished rolling his eyes), I said, “Why don’t we have any Bibles? Enough people ask for one, I’d think we’d be able to sell a copy or two.”
“We used to have Bibles,” he said, “but they barely sold. People would come in and ask for one, but not buy it. They were just checking to make sure we had them. I think we were being tested.”
Please fire me. I am a paralegal, and one of the basic pieces of information we need from new clients for legal purposes is their date of birth. Usually, we simply allow them to write down said information on an intake form.
Today, I discovered that one of my clients listed their DOB as “12/31/15.”
I guess the unborn ARE entitled to legal representation, after all.
Please fire me. A customer asked for hot chocolate that isn’t hot. We explained that it would pretty much be chocolate milk, but he persistently disagreed. “I don’t want chocolate milk, I just want hot chocolate without it being hot!”
Please fire me. This note was left for me by my supervisor. (For the record, “asiago” only has one s and really doesn’t need to be abbreviated.)
Please fire me. I worked as a lifeguard at a water park and a mom came up to me and asked me to tell her weeping, hysterical child that there are no jellyfish in the wave pool.
And a man had his infant child 4 feet deep in the wave pool, I whistled at him and told him all guests under 48 inches must have a life jacket on. He yells back, “I’m in the Coast Guard, I am her life jacket!”
Please fire me. I work at a store that sells books, and a woman came to the cash register asking for a bandage because there “must have been a knife on one of your book shelves because I got stabbed in my finger.” It was a paper cut.
Please fire me. I work at a greeting card store and found myself in the receiving end of lots of yelling and an official complaint from a customer that could not deal with the fact that we didn’t have any “Happy Birthday Nana” cards.
We only had “Happy Birthday Grandma/Gran/Nan/Grandmother/Granny” and that was unacceptable.
Please fire me. I work at a museum and an elderly lady asked me if mummies were older than dinosaurs.
Please fire me. My coworkers spend at least the first 45 minutes of every work day spoiling every single show on tv they can think of. I haven’t been surprised by anything on any show for the past 2 years. I literally canceled my cable subscription.
Please fire me. The other day while I was on the cash register I was ringing through this woman’s purchase (which was just a cat toy). She was going on and on about how crazy her ‘kitten’ was and sometimes unmanageable, to which I just laughed along… you know the old small talk. Anyways, as she was leaving and I handed her her change she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “No one ever told me that kittens become cats.”
Please fire me. I work at Starbucks and people keep asking “you don’t have iced coffee, do you?”
Please fire me. I work as a sales associate and fitting room attendant at a very large location of a chain retail store, and the number of unsupervised children that are running around the store every day is enormous. Recently, I was fixing clothes on a rack, and something collided very hard with my legs – and that something turned out to be a child running under the clothes racks with no parent in sight. Also, there have been incidents of children actually knocking down the racks of clothes in a domino effect.
No kids have gotten hurt yet, but my guess is that myself and my coworkers will get blamed by the parents in question when a kid does get hurt. Because of course, I get paid minimum wage to watch your kids for you.
Please fire me. I work at McDonald’s and last week I spent 15 minutes trying to explain to an old man they we do not sell hot dogs (McDogs as he claimed it) then he threatened to report me for “withholding products from him”!
Please fire me. On Friday, a lady placed a catering order for well over $1000. Today, she brought all the food back and demanded a refund. We asked, “Was there something wrong with the food? Is anyone sick?” We’re very concerned with food quality here. “No,” she said, “No one came to my party.”
