Please fire me. I work at a deli, and while I was serving a customer today, my manager walked by, stopped me, and gave me a five minute lecture—in front of the customer—about how I was putting too much meat on the customer’s sandwich and how wasteful I was. She then proceeded to show me the “correct” amount of meat to put on the sandwich, all while reprimanding me and apologizing to the customer for my incompetence.
The customer I’d been serving had specifically asked for as much meat as possible on his sandwich.
Please fire me. While cleaning out the wastebaskets in the office, I peaked at the open laptop on my boss’s desk. He had been looking at a dating site for people with herpes. Now that’s all I think about when he talks to me.
Please fire me. The boss has informed me that only when we hit goal will we get a “casual day.” Seems logical. Nothing will motivate me more to work towards HIS cash bonus than the lure of forgoing polyester blends once a month.
Please fire me. We had a safety meeting about never using power tools in the rain. The next day, as it rained, we were told to continue working using impact guns, power drills, and a couple of circular saws. When I complained about this, my boss told me that it wasn’t raining hard enough and when it starts pouring rain that they might reconsider.
Please fire me. I just overheard one of the male managers say the hardest working woman in our company brings sexual harassment on herself, because “She’s too ugly to treat good, but not too ugly for guys to try to f—- her.”
Please fire me. I have to wear a thick allergy mask at work because so many people wear fragrances I’m allergic to. Last month I got a promotion and a raise. Since then I’ve had to take my jacket, purse, coffee cup, work notes, everything with me wherever I go, or I’ll come back to find it soaked in cologne.
Please fire me. My boss spells and writes like a third grader and he is the CEO of the company. I have to edit most of his emails and documents before sending out to the rest of the company. I feel like I’m his English teacher and I’m the non-American.
Please fire me. I work in a restaurant where the waitstaff is all women and our uniform leaves little to the imagination. The other day a couple guys came in for the first time. When I asked what brought them to our restaurant, their response was simply “the tits.”
Please fire me. Today I received a series of bitchy email from someone demanding I explain why they hadn’t received a marketing email that had gone out that morning. When I looked them up in our email database, what do you know, it said they had unsubscribed a week ago. Can I unsubscribe from my job?
Please fire me. Tongs that are used to handle customers’ food are dropped on the floor every 5 seconds and when I go to wash them, my coworkers tell me, “Don’t worry man, it’s McDonald’s, not some five-star restaurant.”
Please fire me. I’ve avoided Facebook for years because I don’t trust my family not to embarrass me. My job just forced me to get a Facebook account under my own name as part of our social media push. Within three days, my cousin found me. Within a week, I was being tagged in drunken photos I wasn’t even involved in, and things were being posted on my wall that my gynecologist would be uncomfortable with. My manager just gave me a warning about representing the company and learning to use social media responsibly. I’ve just finished blocking all my family and Googling how to divorce blood relatives.
Please fire me. I work in a restaurant and the kitchen staff complained to the manager that it was 113 degrees in the kitchen and it was unbearable to work in. His response? “Some people pay good money to go somewhere for that hot.”
Please fire me. A professor just back from sabbatical emailed all the staff members and asked them to come into the main office at 10:00 a.m. He then doled out a souvenir for each person except me, even the receptionist who only started on Monday got a gift. I’ve worked in this department for 16 years. He even gave gifts to some of the grad students from the things he had leftover.
Please fire me. The second day on the job my manager called me and my colleague, who’s been assigned to train me, into his office to reprimand us because we were talking too much for the guy sitting in the cubicle behind me. My colleague is now training me with signs, notes and by pantomime.