The PFM Book

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Please fire me. I swear to God I love my job but the office is right next to a company that fixes speakers. They test them twice a week.

Please fire me. The head of our newspaper’s composing department is retiring. Instead of promoting the female assistant who had covered his vacations and trained all the staff for 20 years, they hired a 25-year-old man with no newspaper experience. He was fired from his last job for throwing an office chair at a woman who wouldn’t go out with him.

Please fire me. After wrestling a 100+ lbs Great Dane into his pen I leaned against the wall to catch my breath and was promptly snapped at to “stop standing around doing nothing.” 

Please fire me. One of my coworkers tripped and landed face first on the cement floor. The nosebleed was pretty bad so they called an ambulance. Before the paramedics got there, the head of our safety department cleaned up all the blood, stopped the nosebleed, and tidied up the area. When they arrived, she told them that the coworker had landed on her arm instead.

To this day, we are not allowed to talk about what actually happened. We all have to work with the ‘official’ story or we risk getting in trouble with management. This is the third time something like this has happened in the year I have been there.

Please fire me. I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks and when I can feel a panic attack coming on, I am usually left on the shopfloor until it becomes fully blown before I am ushered out of the sight of customers. One time when I made it to a staff area, I was called into the manager’s office and told to never have an attack in front of members of staff again.

Please fire me. I work at a restaurant with a bunch of creepy cooks. Today my boss told me that he hid one of the cooks and covered for him when the cops came in looking for him. 

Please fire me. I work at a thrift store for $8.75/hour and a customer approached me yesterday to accuse me of “throwing the receipt at her” the past two times I rung her up. 

Please fire me. I suffered a miscarriage that took me out of work for a day and a half. On the following Monday in my weekly one on one, my boss said “Take care of yourself so you don’t have to slack on the job. Next time at least be married.”

Please fire me. I am a server and one of the women at a family-filled table handed me a business card when she paid. I looked at the card later to realize she was a consultant for sex toys.

Please fire me. A coworker asked me what my last name was, despite having walked by the name plate on my desk for the past two years.