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Kitchner posted:
Haha. I like stories where the villain gets what he deserves.
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Mar 13, 2015 03:35
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I worked at an Italian restaurant for a short stint. I mean, I'm pretty much Italian through my extended family (via divorce and marriage), so why not work at a red sauce joint? gently caress it. I'll see what these guys do with their tomatoes, or their spice blend for their salsiccia. Plus, it's a family run joint. "Francesco" is a p cool old guy who can wield a wooden spoon like he wields bribe money. The first day I got there, an old Italian lady had some sort of allergic reaction to her shrimp and proceeded to throw up tomato paste all over the floor. The mess was so messy, they closed the banquet room off to de-mess the mess. I mean, we're talking shovels, carpet shampooing machine, cutting up the carpet and throwing it in some low-income neighborhood. In any case, we now have a cleaning machine tank full of barely digested sauce. It's a shame to get rid of it, it still looks appetizing. Besides, the dumpster is full. gently caress it. We filter out the chunks of shrimp, pick out the bits of the old lady's esophagus, put in some Alka-Seltzer to get rid of the stomach acid. (Not too much, or we risk destroying the flavor of the tomato. Duh.) We cut it 50-50, fresh sauce and vomit sauce. Simmer it down, nice-nice. Well, it certainly tasted... interesting. It wasn't the best. The head chef and head of the Family taste it and decides as much as he's unhappy with it, it's all we've got for the day. Bing, doors open at 10 AM in the morning for service. First customer gets a plate of BUCATINI PUTTANESCA and so avoids the disaster. In fact, so does the second customer. Everyone gets the loving PUTTANESCA. The day ends with us completely out of anchovies - in fact, we had to start running next door to the Chinese market to get cans of mackerel(?) to make the last few dishes. The hell sauce sits in the fridge overnight while we smoke and watch it congeal again. gently caress it, keep it. Bing, doors open at 10 AM in the morning for service again. This day, everyone gets the FETTUCCINE ALFREDO. I mean, holy gently caress, we're getting even further away from the sauce. Alfredo doesn't even loving have tomatoes in it. On my fourth day at this restaurant, it was Sunday. We weren't open. Ma, what the gently caress. We're still hung over from Mass. We come in on the fifth day, only to find that the vomit sauce is now turning sour. Well, more sour. It still tasted like puke to a degree three days ago, and now it's getting worse. Francesco had a diabetic stroke and his idiot son, "Nicky," doesn't know how to run a restaurant. He serves this up, he serves this half puke dish up to the ZAGAT critic. I mean, this guy's a loving moron, we all lose our jobs, the boss gets over his stroke and puts hits out on all of us because. Or we thought that would happen. No, ZAGAT guy loves it. Says it's the best red sauce ever. The review goes out the next day, we get approached by a businessman. He wants to buy the recipe for the sauce. Boom, done. Our lovely ragu becomes Ragu(tm). I quit on the seventh day. Francesco puts too many onions in his sauce to begin with. gently caress him. And his wife, now I'm on the run. I sleep with a Beretta under my pillow.
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Mar 13, 2015 04:38
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Kikka posted:- Gamestop  that poo poo, god drat 
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Mar 13, 2015 04:58
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Mar 13, 2015 07:52
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Little known fact: if you want a job at the liquor store you have to beat one of the current employees at a drinking contest. I challenged the manager after the interview and we went shot for shot on Knob Creek until we blacked out and both woke up in the drunk tank in Kokomo. Apparently we totalled his corolla somewhere on Dixon Rd and broke into the K-Mart. Police caught us trying to tag-team a display mannequin and took us in. We didn't know who had won until the next day when we bailed out Wayne the weekend guy who was our ref. We left him passed out in the car so when the cops rolled around he got busted for drunk driving and he lost his licence. Wayne and I carpooled until he got his licence back and he turned out to be a pretty chill guy.
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Mar 13, 2015 09:03
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Man guys, thanks for the feedback! Anyway, due to popular request... Little and Big Doody Strike Again This stint was at the Plastic Surgery Clinic of Toronto, where I worked as an assistant surgeon after I had left FamilyMart. Anyway, as you probably remember, I had worked together with two bipedal fecal golem brothers; let's call them Little and Big Doody (fake names to protect identity). As luck would have it, Little and Big Doody were fellow surgeons at the exact same clinic. I suppose they had connections. They never did anything, just lounged about in their chairs and got paid to do nothing. I suppose I should be thankful of that, as I heard my coworker back from FamilyMart say they have no qualifications or education for plastic surgery. My job at the clinic was actually really nice besides those two. Mostly I just handed tools to the actual surgeon doing the work, and the work environment was good in general; my manager was probably the funniest trans woman I've ever met. Anyway, this thread is about bad work experiences, so here's the story. One Friday (our busiest day of the week) all 20 surgeons at the clinic had contracted Giardiasis pretty much at the same time, and I still suspect it's because a part-timer accidentally let Lil' and Big D in the break room on Monday (the break room was only cleaned during the weekends, so we just had to eat around the residue of poo poo on everything  ). The only ones left in the clinic were me, my manager and the Blumpkin Brothers. As luck would have it, Friday is when my favorite customer, a sweet old lady called Doris always came in. This lady was loving bitchin' as a Dungeon Master, but I suppose that's for another time. If I had to find any flaw in Doris it would be that she was terribly addicted to plastic surgery and looked like old lady Benedict Cumberbatch.I was on desk duty that day because of the missing staff, and also handled Doris's request for a cheekbone adjustment. I couldn't help but be worried, as she was the first person in a line stretching all the way to the door, and we were woefully understaffed. My manager was sweating bullets already, having to do two surgeries at a time, so I was left alone on the desk with the Dookie Duo. I had never done actual surgery before, but Doris was so dear to me I couldn't deny her, and was about to lead her to the prep room. Before I could say anything, Big Doody's arm slapped down on the counter with terrible force, trapping Doris's hand under. It then pressed around it as he started dragging her towards the surgery hall. My jaw hung wide open. There's no way this was happening. Little Doody went around the counter and pushed Doris along with his stump. We were understaffed, but surely there was another way. I didn't interrupt them, as I am a man of peace; the memories of Juarez's absorption and subsequent mitosis also swam before my eyes. I couldn't leave the desk as I had to handle the requests of the other customers. Two hours later, the doors of the surgery room swung open and Doris emerged on a gurney, pushed along by Little Doody. I was furious, and angry-walked towards them to make sure Doris was allright. What I saw was most likely the worst attempt at a face lift I've ever seen. Every single incision was surrounded by almost orange, soft and foam-like poo poo along with red and sensitive burn marks; at first I thought it was Iodine solution applied on irritated areas, but I realized it was stool as she was operated on by fecal golems. This color and consistency, a type 6 on the Bristol chart, was only seen at the scalding heart of a poo poo golem, as the outer layer becomes more dry and solid with the combination of heat from within and exposure to air. As a poo poo golem has difficulty forming precise appendages, I can only hope her greatly stretchable skin was lifted by an instrument stuck rigid on an arm stump, and not a soft and yielding finger. To my horror, I realized the incisions were not sown shut, but left open to the air and covered in similar fecal matter (the kind which comes out with great speed and burning like an impossible dead-alive and water bloated snake biting it's way out). Of course, a precision to sow with needle and thread is outside the capacity of a great and soft stool-thing; the wounds had been pinched shut with material, and even her old skin had enough resistance to open the wound again and spread the filthy glue on the exposed dermis. A similar operation had been performed vertically along the back of her head, thin and long hair growing out of a filthy field. Her head was oddly bloated and lumpy, and she had an obvious case of pink eye. She was as a leper, and the infection in her corroded holes made poop as pus. I didn't wait for her to come to. I was too angry, I'd get her tomorrow. I left the clinic, the scorning gaze of my fellow men on my neck. Big Doody stood dumbly. Little Doody opened the door for me. Kikka fucked around with this message at 13:59 on Mar 13, 2015 |
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Mar 13, 2015 12:14
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that story was kinda poo poo
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Mar 13, 2015 15:58
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Mar 13, 2015 17:08
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I think he was making a joke about how there was so much poo poo in the story. It was a good story. Tell us "My Manager is Cool"
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Mar 13, 2015 17:21
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I was working at a supermarket here in the UK and I worked behind the meat counter. Most of the time customers were pretty cool but occasionally you'd get ones that were dumb and rude as gently caress. Like we would cut the meat and sell it to the customers by the pound, so say two pounds of chicken was £3 for example. However no real unprocessed meat is ever even in shape and size so you could never be that precise. Sometimes if the customer asked for say £5 of ham, you'd need to cut it to about what you think is the right weight and you may be like 5p over. If it isn't the exact price you need to ask the customer if they are being slightly under or over. This one customer (I'll call her Bitchface Ballstomper) asked for £6 of ham. I was there cutting away and I said "Thus is £5.93 of ham, is that OK?". Of course Bitchface flew off the handle accusing me of trying to rob her of 7 pence. I tried to explain that she wasn't going to be charged for it but she demanded to speak to my manager (let's just call him Balltickle Cocksucker). He came out and made me slice really thin slices of ham off the joint until it literally came to £6 exactly and apologised to the customer. He told me the customer was always right no matter what! So me and my friend (let's call him Fred) decided to get our own back on the manager. Balltickle didn't know Fred so Fred came in pretending to be a customer. I told Balltickle that I needed a toilet break so he covered the meat stall for me while Fred (our "customer"!) approached. I came out of the back to see Balltickle serving Fred who asked for some chicken and some ham. When Balltickle asked him" Was there anything else?" Fred just said "Yeah, I want you to out your dick in the bacon slicer, and I'll buy your sliced dick". The look on Balltickle's face was priceless! He refused to do it and I reminded him the customer was always right. He looked like he was going to refuse until I said I could always ask corporate, and at that he knew I had him! Me and Fred were laughing our asses off as Balltickle inserted his penis into the bacon slicer, screaming in agony as he sliced his penis into bite sized pieces. The best part? After he had wrapped it all up Fred just said "Actually I've changed my mind, I don't want to buy your sliced penis after all" meaning it had all been for nothing! That was the last time he tried to make me provide good service to a customer let me tell you!
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Mar 13, 2015 18:43
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One time I was working at a fast food place they have here in the UK called "KFC" (you might not have heard of it) and I stitched my bitch of a manager up good and proper. In the hot weather my friend came up with the idea of taking KFC chicken fillets an placing them between our arse cheeks in the hot weather. We would also get some tape and tape the bottom of our boxers to our legs (so there was no gap) and filled our boxers with popcorn chicken. Not only did this cool us down but it was way more efficient too as we always had spare pieces of chicken on us if we needed to cook more at short notice and as the chicken had defrosted it was faster to cook! But my manager was having none of it, to protect her identity I will call her "Cunty Nipslip". Cunty found out about our efficient chicken storage and put a stop to it because, and I quote, "it's against company policy to store chicken in your underwear" and she said "you're lucky you're not fired"! Can you believe it? We got our own back on her though. Me and Medium Dave broke into her office one night and planted some drugs and a dead hooker that we had spitroasted before strangling her with an ethernet cable (my net connection didn't run properly after so I ended up replacing the cable and I was £10 out of pocket!). The look on her face the next morning, and during the subsequent trial and life imprisonment sentence was priceless Kitchner fucked around with this message at 19:16 on Mar 13, 2015 |
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Mar 13, 2015 18:51
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Kitchner posted:One time I was working at a fast food place they have here in the UK called "KFC" (you might not have heard of it) and I stitched my bitch of a manager up good and proper. Haha! Taught her a lesson!
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Mar 13, 2015 19:01
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Applewhite posted:I think he was making a joke about how there was so much poo poo in the story. It was a good story. Thanks! It might seem unbelievable but these stories are all true. I think I've got a cursed/blessed life. Anyway, my manager. She was really cool. This manager (let's call her Monica) was the funniest, sexiest and smartest manager I've ever known out of all my manager friends and she was transsexual to boot! She's got so many stories she should start a thread of her own, but here's one of the coolest and funniest things I've ever experienced with Monica. My Manager is Cool This was back when I was working at a Lolo's Chicken and Waffles as a server, with Monica as my manager. We don't usually have trouble with customers, and I feel Monica could have beaten up any troublemakers due to her hormonal treatment going really wrong. This didn't deter one particular set of customers. A coworker of mine, a sweet little chinese thing, was serving a table for a seemingly upper-class family; slightly overweight dad in a suit, really thin wife with long blonde hair and jocky teenage son. The minute they walked in the restaurant I could tell these people were nothing but trouble. They were extremely rude to my coworker, snickering in loud English about his garlic breath, yellow skin and buck teeth (in reality, he was battling a bout of malaria at the moment, was too poor to afford a teeth correction and ate garlic to enhance his sexual drive). I could see he was troubled, but kept polite and took their order. A couple of minutes later, the family came to pay for the meal. Seeing that my coworker was in hearing range, the father of the family snarkily regarded how libertarians would allow any nongmin to work in a proud American establishment as his family sniggered. This was too much for my Chinese coworker and he burst out in an animal-like wail. I will never forget the heartbreaking sight of his fang-like canines extending far beyond his chin in a teary grimace, his little pig-like snout crinkled and even his floor-dragging ponytail becoming unfurled as he swapped to his conical hat and ran to the backroom to pray to his ancestors and eat ginger. My manager, Monica, had heard the commotion and came to calm the situation down. The family was all talking back to her, yet she kept her cool like a professional, although I could see she was slightly flustered by the color of her deep battle scars becoming more reddish. This wasn't enough for the snooty family, as I could feel cold and hot winds fluttering past me as strange meteorological phenomena appeared in the restaurant. I had a suspicion as to who these people actually were, but I was sure my manager knew as well, and I was waiting for her to strike. Finally when Monica had had enough of the long-winded argument, she calmly and coolly retorted to the now screeching matriarch: "Well, madam, anybody who wants to work in my Lolo's Chicken and Waffles can do so, and frankly, you are full of hot air." She had done it! My suspicions were correct, as right when the mother of the family could process what she had just said, all of them gave out a terrible scream and at once turned to stormclouds and swelled in size, covering the entire ceiling in a dark and flashing billow. They were thunder gods! And so did my manager and the thunder gods do great battle; they smote the restaurant about them, but at last Monica cast them down, the police were called and they were escorted out of the restaurant. Me and her have never laughed as hard as when we listened to the rumble of thunder moving farther and farther away from the charred ruins of Lolo's Chicken and Waffles. The ones who had not been struck by thunder or swept away by great winds rose to an applause. Kikka fucked around with this message at 20:02 on Mar 13, 2015 |
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Mar 13, 2015 19:51
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i know that retail is a hard and lovely job, but some of the things you all did aren't funny any more. You should be glad you didn't get arrested for some of the stuff in this thread. Geez, goons.
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Mar 13, 2015 20:56
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTQbiNvZqaY
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Mar 13, 2015 20:57
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This one time I worked at kmart (I still do 8 years later) this really pissy woman was screeching at me about how I wouldnt let her look at a shotgun AND ammo at the same time without a lock on the shotgun. She threatened to get my manager and I told to go ahead. She walked away and I called my manager to let him know she might try and get him and the situation. He laughed. So she comes back without my manager but she's got something in her hand and there's a few of my female associates following her. At the time I didn't know those associates and thought they were pissy mcbitches backup. Turns out she was on her period and had gone to the fitting rooms and ripped her nasty tampon out and came back to my counter and started making tampon splat prints all over my department. Bitch kept swing it and making rank smelling splat prints on my glass counters. Sad part... This is an unironic serious post.
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Mar 13, 2015 23:21
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Man, I've had some pretty bullshit jobs. I once worked in the canteen of one of those secret Google research facilities buried deep within the earth's crust, and it was loving weird. First of all, everyone would keep asking for these ridiculously complicated coffee orders, and I kept trying to explain that all the canteen had was lovely instant coffee, but they'd have none of it. Like, gently caress, guys, maybe once you finish development on the replicator I can get your frappu-mocha-latte-presso-ccino, but until you do, get off my back. Then one day, this guy Brett comes storming up to the counter in a blood-soaked lab coat and is all like, "WE NEED THE BLOOD AND BONES OF A HUNDRED SAINTS FOR THE ONE WHO LIVES BEYOND RIGHT loving NOW". It was really annoying, because I was actually supposed to be going on my lunch break, but he had a sort of frenzied, murderous stare in his eyes and his plasma rifle was shaking in his hands, so I decided that arguing would be more trouble than it was worth. Anyway, all we had was ketchup, so I filled up a couple of bags with that and peed in them for good measure. He took them back to the dimension rift, and I don't really know what happened after that, but the base was evacuated and detonated soon after, so I guess it didn't really matter. I never even got that loving break. It was still better than Kmart.
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Mar 14, 2015 00:13
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i tuched a girl once it wasnt direct but she said she wanted a comic for her kid and WOW it happened
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Mar 14, 2015 00:42
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One time when I worked at an action figure shop two giant gerbils came in and bought all my supply of Richard Gere and Josef Stalin figures.
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Mar 14, 2015 03:49
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Floor spice
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Mar 14, 2015 06:53
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When I worked at my grocery store, I had to explain that beef comes from cows. Also that freezers are not fridges. Then there was the time that we ran out of testicles; nearly had a riot until we ran to the orphanage.
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Mar 14, 2015 06:57
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I once worked somewhere and did stuff.
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Mar 14, 2015 07:04
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i had fake pee spill in my pocket a lil today
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Mar 14, 2015 10:34
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West SAAB Story posted:I once worked somewhere and did stuff. Please don't fill this thread with your made up poo poo.
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Mar 14, 2015 10:39
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Curses! Foiled, despite my brilliant plan!
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Mar 14, 2015 18:08
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why is this thread stickied I don't see any funny pictures or anything
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Mar 14, 2015 18:17
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Years ago some baby dropped a demon deuce that stunk up the entire grocery half of a nearby walmart. I've stopped going there because everytime I walk in there the smell returns, like some sort of olfactory phantom limb.
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Mar 14, 2015 18:55
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E Equals MC Hammer posted:why is this thread stickied I don't see any funny pictures or anything
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Mar 14, 2015 19:07
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CrashCat posted:My first day at my current job was September 11th. Yes, that September 11th. I don't think I could post any funny pictures of that which you haven't already seen. Decent name/post combo, 7/10
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Mar 14, 2015 20:59
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When I was in my first year of university I got a part-time job stacking shelves at my local supermarket. One time when I was wheeling a trolley stacked with milk cartons across the supermarket, I went a bit too fast and rammed it into the back of an old woman's leg. She gave a cry of pain, but she didn't even complain - she just hobbled out of the store. I had a good laugh about it afterwards.
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Mar 15, 2015 00:26
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Once when i worked at 5 guys some dude poo poo all over the bathroom. Like everywhere. It was someone who goes to 5 guys in Wisconsin so you can imagine the amount of poo poo everywhere. Tge manager tried to get one of the stoner guys who had worked there for a couple years to help him clean it up, but the guy just said "no, i quit if you try and make me". So the manager gor a try hard guy who actually cared about providing good service to help him. I couldn't believe someone who was a non manager would actually care enough to do that.
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Mar 15, 2015 02:05
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Old people who shop at my retail job always ducking fumble and hurt themselves on the last step of the escalator. If you stand still the escalator just deposits you softly on the tip step. Wtf old people.
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Mar 15, 2015 02:13
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Old people are a dying breed who should be exterminated.
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Mar 15, 2015 02:13
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Phrasing posted:Old people are a dying breed who should be exterminated. When I worked at an animal shelter some man came in with his grandad and wanted him euthanized.
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Mar 15, 2015 03:33
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i am legitimately impresse dby applewhite itt
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Mar 15, 2015 11:06
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i worked at a macy's for a while and this hobo dropped his drawers and took a poo poo in the lobby so i sucked and hosed him right there
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Mar 15, 2015 17:17
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... it's "out of spite", not "in spite". No wonder you work at MacDunkinFriedColonel Hut.
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Mar 15, 2015 19:15
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^^ mcdonalds wont hire you either if you cant spell it
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Mar 15, 2015 21:19
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permabanned posted:... it's "out of spite", not "in spite". Wtf is this gbs 1.0 bullshit
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Mar 15, 2015 21:57
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Mooktastical posted:Wtf is this gbs 1.0 bullshit The Huns are back, whether you like it or not, pleb.
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Mar 15, 2015 22:17
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