Pizza Restaurant Hell: Fired For Being Sick

ThebritWell, I've been canned at Pizza Pit.  The story isn't very exciting, but I'm gonna tell it anyway simply because it bothers me still, after over a week.

Sunday before Christmas, I was feeling pretty crappy.  I woke up exhausted, which is unusual for me, and kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock.  I was feeling warm and woozy, and ended up calling my boss and telling him I didn't think I could make it in that day, as I had already missed the bus and I was SOL for a ride until way after we opened.  Right after I did that, my boyfriend woke up with an alarming temperature and immediately started vomiting, so I had to put my feelings of crappyness on the back burner whilst I took care of him.  My poor boy was really ill all day, and I was fetching him applesauce, blankets and drinks for most of the day.  The next day he was feeling much better, and I cleaned up the apartment a bit whilst he went to work.  Tuesday the woozy feeling was worse, but I managed to haul myself into work and ended up swaying through most of my shift.  

I figured that some good sleep on my day off, Wednesday, would help out, but turned out I was wrong.  Thursday came and I was far sicker than my boyfriend had been on Sunday.  I had to run to the bathroom to shout a rainbow about every ten minutes.  My father, bless him, drove me to work because I didn't think I could handle the bus, and I knew I couldn't call off again.  As soon as I got to work, I was on autopilot, turning things on and getting everything ready whilst fighting back the urge to lie down on the floor and die.  Bestie was driving, and as soon as she got there, she was alarmed. Apparently I was extremely pale and looked like I was about to become best mates with the Grim Reaper.

It was at that time that the toilet broke.  Well, the flusher broke anyway.  Nothing was going right at all that day.  I tried to soldier on, though, knowing that the next day I was going to New York for Christmas for a few glorious days, and I could rest and relax in the clean, fresh air of my hometown.  So I flushed the toilet with buckets of water. The lunch rush hit and Bestie and the kitchen staff jumped to my aid.  I tried not to breathe on anyone's food whilst ringing them up, and many customers looked concerned as I handed them their money.  

After the twelfth time in the bathroom that hour, I made the executive decision to call the boss and let him know that I couldn't continue.  He'd understand, I thought.  As it turned out, no, he would not.  

He got there, glared at me, then immediately went into his office.  My father had arrived by that time to take me home, so I made it out of the door and into the car. Halfway from downtown to my house, my cell phone rang.  Bestie informed me that Rude needed to see me RIGHT NOW.  I informed her that I was a good ten minutes away and on the verge of changing the colour of the interior of my dad's car, but she told me that I really needed to come back.  Rude was angry.  

So my father pulled over to the side of the road, I vomited, then we went back to Pit.  I walked into Rude's office, and he told me he was firing me, and he needed my key back immediately.  At this point, I was on the verge of passing out, so I gave him my keyring.  He then followed me out of the office, yelling that I obviously didn't care about him or his business, and that I deserved to be unemployed, blah blah blah.

It was very inconsiderate of me to be ill, Rude.  Next time I'll check your schedule and have a stomach flu at a time more convenient for you.  Also, thanks for firing me three days before Christmas.  Mighty jolly of you.

Anyway, I'm out of a job.  I'm considering going for unemployment; the job market here is miserable, and money is growing ever tighter, especially since I need to save up for my move in April downtown.  Do you guys have any advice?

Love, kisses, and what the fuck am I going to do now?

--TheBrit

 


Out of Context Theater For Retail Hell

RIFEROUSHello, and welcome to Out of Context Theater. 

Today we will perform for you the latest and greatest out of context phrases heard in the real halls of retail.  Sit back, and let us entertain you.

 

Wonder at the exclamation, "I've been trying to get him to use corn cobs!"

 

Share the joy of "I got rid of eight feet".

 

Sympathize with the lament of older customers, who just want "a good piece of meat one time a year".

 

Ponder this modern world epiphany:  "If I was unpacking the butter, I'd just have to make some smartalec Facebook status about it." 

 

Be tittilated by "I don't care if you take my clothes and lock me in a dungeon with a guy for a year..."

 

Feel the pain and apprehension of "They just set your fucking uterus on fire."

 

And finally, examine the nature of your relationships with "Do you know any fucktards?"

 

Tune in next time, when we will regale you with such gems as "Just throw a towel down."

 

Stay classy RHU!

--Riferous


Entitled Pet Store Custy Wants To Buy Gerbils As Snake Food and Gets Told

CarolballsYumYum gets a Retail Balls Award for this tale of not giving into an entitled shopper and saving the lives of a few gerbils:

Hi all!  YumYum again...

I posted a long time ago and thought I'd share another retailicious story from my days as a pet shop girl.

One night, about an hour or so before we closed, a girl came in and started looking at our small animals.  I went back and asked if she needed help.  She started to tell me about her boyfriend's snake and said that she needed to buy feeder mice for it.  Well, we had mice in stock, but they weren't intended as food; they were being sold as pets.  I explained this to her and suggested she try one of the larger retailers in the area or a rodent specialty store.  She looked at me blankly for a moment and then said, "Yeah, I just want to buy some of these mice here."  The conversation just went downhill from there.

Me: I thought you were looking for feeder mice.

Her: I am.

Me: Well those aren't food.  They're pets.  You'll have to go to another store to get feeder mice.

Her: These are mice, aren't they?  Why can't I just feed these to my snake?

Me: Because we don't sell our small mammals for food.

Carolanne 009Her: Well, fine then.  I want to buy some of these mice as pets.

Me: Um, you already told me you're planning on feeding them to your snake.

Her: Yeah, but if I hadn't told you that you'd have just sold me the mice.  So just forget I said that.

Me: Sorry.  I'm not selling you any mice.

I walked back up to the front and hung out where I had a clear view of her while I waited for more customers to come in.  The assistant manager (Awesome Assistant) had heard part of the conversation and commended me for not selling her the mice. 

Now, don't get me wrong.  I realize snakes have to eat, too, and some snakes eat mice.  We just had a store policy that we didn't send any of our mammals home with a customer unless we felt like it was the right home for them.  A home where they were going to be fed to another animal wasn't exactly a safe environment.

So I keep watching this chick and she's still hanging around the mice, and watching my every move.  Any time I'd turn my head to greet a customer and look back, she had her hands on the mouse cage and would pull them away when she saw me watching her.  Great...another NAT-to-be.

My assistant manager had gone into the back to finish up the day's paperwork before we closed, so it was just me and one of the New Salesgirls.  I pulled her aside (where I could still see Snake Girl) and pointed her out, explaining the situation and my suspicions. 

Carolanne 033

After that, either one or both of us had our eyes locked on her wherever she went in the store.  Finally she ended up by the gerbils...which my Hosebeast Store Manager (not to be confused with Awesome Assistant) had decided to put in an open-top glass enclosure.  Sure enough, Snake Girl kept reaching into the enclosure and "playing" with the gerbils, watching us closely. 

After about 10 minutes she gave up and left...only to return with her boyfriend, who cornered me and started asking me if mice made good pets because he was thinking of getting a couple.

I motioned for New Salesgirl to keep an eye on Snake Girl while I explained to this man that his girlfriend already told us that they were planning to feed the mice to their snake and our mice were not food.  He started to deny that she was his girlfriend, when I heard a commotion by the gerbils. 

Apparently, Snake Girl had picked one up and was yelling at New Salesgirl for telling her to put it down.  I finally told her that she'd have to leave since we wouldn't be selling her anything that night.

And wouldn't you know, she and her boyfriend came back the next day and tried to buy the mice from a couple of my coworkers.  Fortunately, they'd already heard the story and a description of the couple so she didn't have any luck with them either.

Until next time, fellow slaves...

--YumYum