You’re all fired.
Please have your belongings out of the office by 3pm this afternoon.
Actually, you’re probably not. Maybe, but if so, I’m almost certain that I had nothing to do with that. Maybe I did. I could see that maybe if I complained about your service, maybe that got you fired. But, and I mean typically here, if you’re getting fired over a single complaint, you probably have a more than substantial record of poor customer reports and probably shouldn’t be that surprised by your sudden termination. Then again, perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you’re a stellar employee and your termination was due in fact ONLY to my complaint, in which case you really do work for a terrible company and should be glad to be rid of them, tiger.
All that to say this. I, while not fired, am very nearly once more unemployed. Tomorrow is day 9 of 9 of my McDonalds streak, and is also my last day at the restaurant. Or place. Thing. Hopefully, it also signifies the last time I’ll ever be the typical youth working in a terrible establishment for small wages at a job that doesn’t require any specialized skills. Or “skillz” for those of you who are “extreme”. If you are, stop it. In the next week, I’ll probably be writing my final assessment of this summer’s experiment and though I did meet a slew of people that are worth knowing, I don’t think I’ll be crushed if the thought “Holy Freaking Thing. It’s two in the morning and I still have sixty burritos to make.” never crosses my mind again.
Sell!
I’m going to post this before my computer can crash again.
1 comment:
I remember the last day I worked at Macdonalds I injected the pies with the rabies virus for a joke
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