Work Horror Stories

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I'll call this one the Pay/Raise Saga at Laughing Joe's Kunthole Katering:

The first thing that irked me about this was how I was told about it. I had a three day "audition". I thought at the end of those three days I would sit down with my boss and discuss things like salary and paperwork. It did not happen like that. At the end of day three my supervisor assumed I would come in for day four. I had to explain to her what me and my boss talked about and she had to call him about it. It turns out that I came back for day four and then some. When I saw my boss again I wanted to talk salary (because I wanted to make sure I was not about to be scammed). He did not want to talk about it and told me I would be getting a paycheck on the next payday. A few days later I filled out the usual papers and I did get a paycheck where I first found out that I work for $9.50 and hour. It was different then what I am used to where salary and paperwork are discussed before employment starts.

That was in January. Fast forward a few months: There is talk and rumors of a raise, my supervisor Ryeanne has to compile information on what we have learned. She talks to me and the others about this and compiles the lists. We hear nothing for a few weeks and I'm wondering if this raise is real or LJ is just being his usual cunt self and just fucking with us. One day Hessie and Ree are called into the office. A few minutes later they emerge and Dagay shows me the paper they were given. The paper they were supposed to sign basically said "We have learned nothing over the past year and do not deserve a raise. We ruin everything we do.". All I'm going to say is if LJ called me into the office and gave me this paper personally, I would have just walked out then and there (and probably punched his lights out for good measure).

After that I was not expecting a raise and began to look for other employment. Eventually there was a raise given. However I have a feeling that the raise was given as some sort of poor apology for LJ bombing us (last minute) with a shit ton of work the week before and of Christmas. About two weeks after that I quit. LJ could take that extra .50 an hour and shove it.
 
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I'm going to call this story "The one about the crazy hotel lady" and refer to her as CHL for short. Her nickname comes from the fact my boss and I eventually learned she was a resident at the long-term stay hotel across the street during our encounters with her.

For background, I work in a building that's split into two separate offices with a doorway between the two. One side is where I work and the other side is used by the boss's brother-in-law, an attorney, and another attorney. Both of them are semi-retired and come in on a rather part time basis.

A few years back, I was busy with a number of items that had to be completed by a specific date when CHL came to our door. She wanted one of the attorneys, but my boss and I didn't know if or when either of them would be in. CHL asked if she could wait in our office to see if either arrived and gave a weird story (involving the bizarre idea somebody somehow managed to hacked her phone and could redirect her calls) about why she couldn't call their office to make an appointment. Despite the :autism: in her story, my boss - who was about to leave for an offsite meeting - agreed.

CHL literally stared at me as I typed away. Now and then, she asked a couple of questions I tried to answer as best I could. I'm not sure how much time elapsed, but her demeanor suddenly changed and she accused me of being paid to purposely lie to her about when the attorneys might arrive. I still remember her asking, "Who do I have to sleep with around here? I'll do it!" At this point, I was legitimately concerned she might attack me, so I told her she needed to leave. She started to cuss me out, but she finally left. However, she remained outside the building. When the boss came back from her meeting, CHL confronted her and started cussing her out from outside. After the boss came inside, CHL tried to do so, but our inner door was locked so she was confined to our alcove. From there, she cussed us out some more through the door before going back to stand outside the building.

At this point, I called the police. Before they could arrive, however, CHL decided to hop on the next bus that arrived at the bus stop at the end of our block. I gave a statement to the responding officer; he then advised me to call the police again should she ever come back and cause trouble.

CHL did come back one more time about a month or so later. I firmly told her she wasn't welcome and the police would be called if she persisted. As my boss and I watched out one of our windows to see whether she'd leave, we saw her cross the street and enter a room in the aforementioned hotel that has had a reputation in the past for attracting transients and other lowlifes. Fortunately, we haven't had any further contact with CHL.
 
I had the real life equivalent of the African warlord character that plays pubg one time come into a hardware store I was working at years ago along with either his wife or girlfriend not too sure but they came in asking about something temporary to hold a panel on a car in place like fiberglass bondo or what have you and he's explaining to me the situation and the woman says something while hes talking to re-emphasize and he stops and does a hard angle turn to her and goes into warlord mode "excuse me but dey men are talking, wen we are finished den you may ask heem a question undahstand yeh?" And for a minute I was thinking maybe someone was fucking with me like it was a movie or just a prank bro but nope straight up this guy was the real deal.
 
Part One: Summer at Laughing Joe's Kunthole Katering:

"There's not much work during the summer. You really have to fight for those hours" Ree, 2017.

Since I have not really discussed what types of business LJ’s does I’m going to give some context on why Ree would think the way she did in the quote. LJ’s business could be split into three categories (that had elements on and off premise production): education, corporate and social. With establishments like schools you expect a lot of them to close down during the summer. Offices would make you would think a lot of employees would take vacation and lower their demand. Social caterings would be used to fill in the gaps but the work schedule would be lighter overall. Personally I was fine with less hours, it’s one of the reasons I was looking at catering establishments that deal with schools.

So did this happen the year I was working there? Hell no. There were still plenty of year round daycare programs to be serviced. It felt like the office workers never got the memo that summer is for relaxing and never went on vacation. There were plenty of social orders that got piled on. The whole season was busy and business as usual (mon-fri) from (at least for me) 6am until anywhere between 1 and 3 o'clock-beyond. The only break I got was when I took two weeks (unpaid) off. Apparently even before I worked there this was not the type of small business where it closed for two weeks and everybody fucked off. God forbid the business close and break Ryanne’s record of never taking a day off in 9+ years (another story for another post).

So with some background established and all this time at work for everybody, let’s get to some shenanigans.
It’s around May. Afternoon is beginning. Me and coworker Eli are given a task. There is a property in the next town that belongs to the LJ’s empire. There is a massive weed problem (not the 420 kind) and people are complaining. Using some lawn supplies at the property we are supposed to clean up the wild growth.


I’ve been at this property briefly before this but I’m going to set the scene for everybody like this: We pulled up to the front door and went inside. When you enter this building it looks like something out of an Urbex video on Youtube. There are the remains of the business (before it was moved into the current location) consisting of a kitchen, deli counters, dining room and LJ’s old office. There is still power in the building, potential pest invasion and hoarding. Most of the horading consists of boxes of old records, equipment that gets used once or twice a year. LJ’s old office is intact, forgotten by him and time. That’s all the hoarding I could see that was not locked away in the basement.

Anyway, me and Eli grab the tools and head to the rear of the property (a giant parking lot used to store company and personal vehicles). We meet up with another coworker Carlos and begin to work at fixing this shit. It was mostly clearing away brush. There was some sort of bamboo next to an old air conditioner unit that took me about 20 min to snip down to size. There was some more stuff that needed to be snipped by the rear (unlocked homeless bait) freezer. The dumpster area also needed to be cleared of plants. About an hour in the three of us realize the scope of this work and are now wondering why we were doing this shit instead of LJ hiring professionals to take care of this. After Ryanne and Hessie show up to do some (light) things, check up on us and leave, the three of us decided to just tear down the last large growth on the fence and call it quits. A neighbor stepped out and thanked us for doing this (yay I guess).

Afterwards we parked the van back at the Current Location and left outright. Unfortunately we left all the brush in a van that was going to be used for deliveries Monday so I had to come in around 5:30 (unpaid) just to get that brush out before I was flipped out on when food was going out to the schools. Thank God the van was unlocked so I could do this.

Epilogue: Eli managed to suggest a landscaping crew to Ryanne and LJ. We never were sent back there to landscape ever again.
TL;DR: Me and coworkers were doing tasks that should have just been done by professionals instead of trying to save a few bucks.

The way cooling worked in Current Location (main office and kitchen) was stupid. It depended on heat energy being transferred to colder air outside. This means that the building was only effectively cooled for about four months out of the year. If there was to be a chance of coolness during the other 8 months, overnight temperatures had to dip below 60 degrees. Best case is it would be comfortable all day, worser case would be only comfortable for the first two hours, worst case would be no relief from opening to closing (most of the summer). I never got exact temperatures but I’m sure it was bare min 100+.


So where was all this heat coming from? The usual suspects like the stoves and the warming cabinets to store the trayed food ready to be delivered. I tried to keep things cooler by turning off the ones we did not need during the summer but got indirectly bitched out for it (apparently we were supposed to keep ALL of them on), excuse me for trying to keep the place cool. There was also the walk in refrigerator and freezer. I swear that these two were configured to discharge their hot air RIGHT INTO THE KITCHEN and not vented to the outside. I remember something that looked like a compressor being on the roof of the walk in fridge. When I was working near those two and the system was cooling, I always felt a mass of hot air coming from their direction.


There was a vent system for the stoves but it was garbage without the external cold air of the winter months. Open doors, windows and garage door let some breeze in but could not help most of the time (and let bugs in).


The only working AC system was wall units inside LJ’s office. Apparently there was an AC system for the rest of the building but it was never functional (there was so much wiring around the building you could never tell was was active or what was old and disused). LJ had somebody come in and look at the system but we never saw him again. The thing with LJ is that he would have techs come in for various stuff I guess hear their estimates and send them away because it was “too expensive”. Employee comfort? TOO EXPENSIVE!

So with the kitchen being this hot 24/7 in the summer what where the side effects?

Let’s start with the fridges and freezers. When I checked temp at 6am sometimes they were in acceptable ranges (<32 for the freezers and 40 for the refrigerators). Not even 30 minutes into the day most of them were 10 to 20 degrees warmer than they should be and could remain there for days. For some of the older equipment they could not handle operating in the elevated heat.


This happened to one of the fridges one weekend. On Friday everything was fine. Come Monday morning I opened up said fridge to check the temp and the entire thing was dead, smelled bad and was 80+. I let Ryanne know and we had to pull the contents. Everything in there (milks and cupped fruit) had to be disposed of and those orders redone (I forget how in terms of the milk). The only funny thing I could get from this was that we had the foundations of some sort of fermented pineapple liquor.


During this time a lot of food went bad earlier then it should have. It was due to the faulty equipment and also to the fact it spent way too much time outside (I was usually the only one that took care of putting away deliveries and I was working as fast as I could with some of this stuff).


In terms of personnel the heat made us way more bitchy than usual. Ree and Dagay went at it more then usual, I became extremely fed up/rage prone and Eli and Carlos were the smart ones and GTFO’d before it got too deep into the summer.
Tl;DR Improper cooling, ventilation/circulation caused some bad side effects.
 
Signed in to my old, sparcely used account here just to share my tale of woe and suffering as a "day care educator", otherwise known as a glorified babysitter.

In short, you're fucked over the minute you sign on for this job. I went through training to be a tard wrangler. Thus, I was supposed to wrangle tards. In order to become a bona fide tard wrangler, I had to learn all the shit to deal with dumbass regular kids.

They didn't give me the tards. Being a wrangler is, no joke, something I wanted to do. I have a downs niece and wanted to make a difference. You also get paid more and have less kids/more hours, meaning you're not stuck trying to remember which of the four Susans in your class is which. They also dumped the tards on me anyways, without telling me I had them in my class. A lot of them seemed normal, until the inevitable screeching started up.

Instead, they put me on sub duty. Sub duty sucks ass. They routinely called me half an hour before a shift started at places over an hour away. A lot of the time, my shifts where barely an hour long, meaning I was losing money on bus transportation and spending two hours on a bus to work an hour at best.

You could only refuse 3 times before getting blacklisted until next September. They counted not being able to reach you as a refusal, which meant getting up at 5 am and sitting on my ass in case they called. Each time you refused/could not be reached, you were less likely to be called for more work. You could go weeks without being called.

The only way to get tenure was to work at the same school full-time for a year, but you were ass bottom and could be cut at any time, including the hour before you get tenure.

So, at one school I worked at, I supposedly had a class of 22,which was my legal maximum. I was allegedly supposed to be working with two ladies, who we'll call Porker and Ghost.

Porker was the head of the school daycare, and she was an absolute cuntwaffle. I asked her if I had any tards. She said no. In reality, I had three. She put me in charge of 30 fucking kids, so I somehow had to watch 27 kids and 3 tards, all at the same time, as well as handing out after school meals, letting parents in, correctly signing kids out, homework checking, reading, activities and injuries.

To make matters worse, Ghost would drop her class on me to pick up a tard from another school. On any given night, I'd have 30-60 kids, including the tards, two of whom needed their own wrangler. Porker would plop herself down in her office. She also expected me to work a pedological day for free because I often finished cleaning early and couldn't find anything else to do. You weren't allowed to sit around and do nothing, but I had nothing to do. Lazy twat wouldn't do the math to just adjust my pay, nor would she count all the times I arrived early to help out against my early quitting time. Ghost always left 20 minutes before me.

One of my tards was Screamer. Screamer was really autistic. He was a good kid half the time, but the other half of the time... Ooff. He was obsessed with Legos and seemingly random toys in the classroom.

Screamer never had homework, due in full to his special needs. He had a wrangler who would always leave as soon as she could, leaving us to deal with his tantrums. We couldn't let him play while the other kids were doing homework, as he was loud and destructive and would throw things around, which would set off Runner tard.

One day, someone dared to touch one of Screamer's creations and disassemble it for parts. Now, one thing to note about Screamer is that he was never very good at building things, and Porker would not give the kid his own box of Legos. His creations literally looked like... Shit. But he was proud of his shit, damnit!

So, on that blessed day, I was busy trying to get Runner Tard to quit running around in the hallway when I hear the scream to end all screams. I spun around so fucking fast to see Screamer up and flinging Legos every fucking where.

Screamer's creations, which he had hidden in a desperate attempt to keep them from ending up back in the bin were in the bin. Destroyed.

Cue 30 minutes of wailing and screaming like you've never heard. It was like a banshee being run over by a steamroller while everything it loves is destroyed right in front of its eyes.

Porker eventually wanders over and pushes me aside and grabs him hard by both arms. He's screaming, she's screaming, Runner is presumably running, Ghost is gone.

She's in his face, telling the little guy that she can't let him have a dozen fucking bricks of Legos to himself. We all have to share, kid. Poor Screamer is just trying to get away and bawl his eyes out over his 'masterpieces'.

Eventually, he calms down in spite of her. He's still upset, sobbing quietly to himself. At this point, Ghost is back with Violent Sociopath from Juvie, so I go sit with him after telling Ghost. He's drawing bees. Learn bees calm Screamer down. I offer to draw him a bee. He loves the bee I draw him.

Porker brings in snacks for the kids. Ghost is gone, Violent Sociopath is trying to stab a dinosaur's eyes out, Runner is behind her.

Ghost's class is still here. I get chewed out, she takes away Screamer's bees. I am never allowed to draw for him again. She suddenly decides to tell me that Screamer knows he's not allowed to use the crayons after homework time.

Screamer spends the rest of the night screaming in her office while she scolds him.

After a while, she leaves Screamer alone, sobbing, and comes to get his bees. Now, you'd think she'd give the kid his damn bees.

Nope.

All I hear is that fat fuck criticizing the little autistic kid for coloring his bees the wrong color.

I later see them in the recycling. Don't have a chance to snag them, she's guarding a tardlet's drawing of bees like it's radioactive waste.

Now, Runner was, as his name suggests, prone to running. This kid was small, skinny, and Sonic levels of fast. The second you weren't blocking his escape, he was out the fucking door. Runner was happiest bolting up and down the hall until he was out of breath.

He was NEVER out of breath.

If he couldn't run, Runner would smash every single fucking thing he could get his mitts on. Now, I'm not allowed to shut the door because IDEFK, so there was no stopping Runner. Sometimes, Porker would corner him in the boy's bathroom and grab him by his upper arm. He'd go limp and start screeching in pain as she dragged him back to me.

I still have no idea how I was expected to keep him wrangled.

One night, Principal Asshole comes to the classroom and sits at a desk. I'm not told why, he's doing fuck all while I work. Porker makes an attempt at staying on her trotters long enough to look like she's doing something, but can't stand for more than 20 minutes.

Ghost doesn't give a single fuck, she drops off her kids and fucks right off.

On this night, Porker had forced me to set the kids up with silent activities. I spent my spare time drawing stencils for the kids and photocopying them. They're silly things, like hocky playing chickens, Mickey and Minnie having tea, dinosaurs hanging 10, dragons napping, cute animals, and lots and lots of bees. Fuck you, Porker, Screamer is getting his bees.

Now, she set up the groups. This fat fuck put Runner closest to the fucking door, and put Screamer in a group with our third tard; Angel. Angel is an absolute angel. She likes puppies and nothing else. She's a quiet kid and is in her own world.

I think nothing of it and focus on getting Runner to stop snapping pencils and color. I can see he hates it with all his being. Runner hates me, I hate me, and then, it happens.

Screamer starts to scream. Angel took a blue crayon from the box. There are at least three other blue crayons in the box that are the same color, but he wants that one.

Angel has shut down at this point. She's crying, holding onto the pencil and staring at him. I tell Runner to stay there while I deal with this.

Screamer starts to flail and rock back on his chair. I just about reach him when he pushes the chair too far. He goes toppling over backwards and smacks his little child skull on the tile.

The screaming stops. Angel is sobbing and rocking back and forth and all I can think is 'fuck this nigga dead!'. Then, he sits up and starts to cry. I breathe a sigh of relief and hug the shit out of him while checking him over. No bump, no bruise, but it's a head injury. So, I help him up and walk him to Porker's office for some ice after asking Asshole to watch the kids. It's what I'm told to do if a kid hits his head. I was told not to write up an incident report, just tell Porker what happened so she could write it up.

I come back and look and behold, Runner has split. I asked the oldest kid to watch the class and let Porker know.

She knew he was gone. She just didn't tell me.

What.jpeg

I go running up and down the hall looking for this kid, but he's nowhere in sight. There is only one hallway. The secretary eventually pipes up and she's had him this entire time. He'd gotten thirsty and she'd given him a juice box and a cookie.

After that whole fucking shitshow, I'm called into Asshole's office. It is now 6:30, my bus comes in 10. If I miss it, it's a 45 minute wait in the dark in -30*c weather. In the snow. I'm starving and dead on my feet, but can't say no.

Shit.

I sat down and he gave me some whole fucking trashcan speech about how I was 'dangerous' because Screamer hit his head and I did nothing to prevent it.

What. How am I supposed to stop him from doing that????

Asshole doesn't know either, I was just supposed to stop him. Somehow. I'm also supposed to have written a report despite being told by Porker that it was her job.

Then this bitch goes on to tell me about pedophiles in the area. I have no fucking clue why. He then tells me that Runner bolted while I was tending to Screamer. Asshole sat there and said nothing. He watched Runner run, and said cock all.

Then he had the fucking balls to lecture me about how he could have gotten out of a locked door and molested.

I'm livid. He hands me a paper to sign that I've been fired with space to fill out my own comments. And he hands me a pen.

I look him dead in the eye and get to writing. I only technically have one page to fill.

Fuck you and your fucking shitty page rules. And fuck writing fast. He's kept talking until I missed my next bus anyways. Next one is at 8:30. And it's warm in here.

I fill both sides of the page with my comments, then the back of his stupid report pages. I number them so the stupid School board knows how many pages I wrote. I made sure the shit about the tard abuse was on the back of the important report sheets. It was 8:20 when I left. I got home at 10, but I stayed warm.

Needless to say, I don't work for the school system anymore.

I got more stories if anyone wants to hear them.
 
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Part 2: Summer at Laughing Joe's Kunthole Katering Kontinued:
As I alluded to in the last part, LJ is a bit of a hoarder and aficionado of 2nd hand equipment (I swear, none of the larger equipment/appliances in the place were purchased first hand). The Main Building (office and kitchen) had some non working equipment lying around. In the garage area was a burger machine from Mcdonalds (LJ’s father in law owns two McD’s and he got a lot of equipment when he married his daughter) referred to by Ryanne as the “Krabby Patty Machine”. It’s only real use was as a table for items going out for delivery or other junk. Outside the the building in the rear stood an old oven, other junk I don’t remember and the dead fridges from the previous post.

One day Ryanne manages to sell these items for scrap. The scrapper comes to the Main Building ready to take his loot. Due to the size of everything he makes two trips. The trip I was around for was loading the Krabby Patty Machine. The challenge was that the scrapper’s truck (looked like scrap itself) was loaded with other loot and you could see that in the rear tires. His truck was parked on the flat street about a hundred feet from the garage. Using our ghetto pallet jack, me, the scrapper and Ryanne get the hunk of metal through the uneven area in front of the garage and onto the street. I believe the scrapper and Ryanne guided the load down the hill while I watched out for any oncoming cars (it was a side street so death potential was kept down). Once we get back to the truck there is a great difficulty in getting the item up into the scrapper’s pickup bed. After what seems like defeat, he convinces one of the neighboring business to lend us their forklift with driver. With a quick lift and a mighty thud, the item was in his truck. I don’t know how but he managed to drive away.

After the junk was gone the back did not look as trashy and the garage had more room to move around in during the loading of morning deliveries. But since this is an LJ’s story, how did he fuck up a positive outcome? A few days later he takes a refrigeration unit like this:

stainless-steel-freezer-six-door-250x250.jpg

from one of the satellite kitchens at a nearby public school and puts it right in the spot where the Krabby Patty Machine used to be. According to Dagay, LJ was going to have some work done on it to convert into a freezer (?) as apart of this satellite kitchen’s yearly bonus (I’m guessing this was some sort of joke that the only bonuses anybody in the company received was new equipment in the workplace). From the time it was put there until the day I quit, I saw no work being done with it and it just stood there. The annoying part of it was that it way larger than what was there before it. It blocked part of the bathroom door. I always moved the damn thing out of the way and Dagay, the class A maricón he is, would always put the thing flush against the wall and block the door.

The refrigerator was not the only new piece of junk to take the place of what was removed by the scrapper. This continues in the next story.
TL;DR: Scrap appliances get removed only to get other appliances put in the spots they once stood.

I know I said that LJ does not buy equipment new? Well this was the exception. In the previous post I talked about how the heat and poor circulation caused the old three compartment refrigerator to die. A short time after that LJ purchased two of something similar to these: https://www.equippers.com/argus-49-cu-ft-2-door-bottom-mount-reach-in-refrigerator-54w/edrr-49-a.asp

They were delivered on pallets. The next part of the process involved getting the units off the pallets and installing their swivel wheels. Guess who had to do it? LJ’s bitches that’s who. The bitches for the job were mostly me and Eli. The way we got this task completed involved a lot of pallet jacking, and breaking the pallet around the wheel screws so the wheels had room to be installed. We got it done eventually. The next step was to do some serious rearrangement in the areas where the fridges were going to be placed. The old fridge was taken out back and the shelves where cardboard boxes and other equipment was stored was moved to accommodate the other new fridge.

With that out of the way it was time to install some shelves and power the things on. The first one was a simple plug in and it worked. The second one had issues, it would not start. At this point of the afternoon me and Eli asked if we could leave and left. Now apparently LJ comes into the picture and gets the other unit started. Ryanne smells something strange and LJ is like “Nah, that’s just the new oil burning off”.

The next day the unit in question was really not working. LJ called in a tech and the tech deduced that the fridge was fried. I don’t know if this was because of a voltage issue or the brand was just cheap Mexican made shit. LJ had arranged to have both units sent back (even though one of them was fine, unless he fucked that one too) and new ones sent as replacements.

The new ones were sent a little while later. The problem is that in order to have the old units taken back the shipping company (lazy bastards) wanted us disassemble the wheels on the old units and put them on pallets for them. Because Eli (side note he quit by the time this next part happens) had destroyed the palette the first two came on, we had to somehow get the new fridges off their pallets, assemble the wheels, disassemble the wheels on the old units and get them on those pallets. Once again LJ’s bitches were cleaning up after bossman being a dumbass. With Ryanne leading, me and Hessie were the bitches. Don’t ask us how but with the pallet jacks, working on our squats in order to expose the wheel wells, sweating out asses off and me putting my hand into some tight and dangerous maneuvers to get at the some of these wheel wells, the old fridges were secure on the palettes. All this happened while Dagay and Doogeee (a driver who mostly delivers caterings and business lunches) watched and did not offer any help (thanks guys appreciate it).
Side Note: REE was freaking out the entire time outside because her shitbox car had issues and she was going away for a week. I was out loud: "trash the fucking thing".

Now here comes the kicker. The fridiges were bound for some industrial park in Laredo, Texas (I guess this is where they were going to be held before being brought back to the main factory in Mexico?). Hurricane Harvey recently happened. I’m assuming that traffic on the roads in south Texas was heavily restricted and the last thing allowed on them was to be some shitty fridges. Those old fridges must of sat in the garage taking up space (leaving a few foot gap between the front and back area of the garage) for at least two weeks. In that time Ryanne had to but heads multiple times with the delivery company responsible for taking the old fridges. They eventually showed up but because they were effin useless we had to help load the fridges on to their truck.

TL;DR: Got some new fridges that stopped working. Me and other employees had to waste out time cleaning up after this mess.
 
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Part 3: The Wrap Up
Unless I remember anything else these are the last big stories from LJ’s I have.

Out of all the things in the building that could use maintenance, like one of our ovens, the air conditioning system, the washing machines, or sanitizer sink that required you to shove a wad of plastic wrap because the drain was busted (once again LJ had a technician and never followed up); guess what LJ made a priority? Resealing/painting the fucking floor.


Before I go on the floor was concrete with paint sealing it. Due to wear and tear the paint layer was coming off in spots and the concrete underneath was chipping away. LJ hires some guy and he comes in to survey the situation.


We all think he is a strange fellow. He asks me how large the kitchen/driveway is. Looking back I should have been like: “ask the guy who is paying you” (He probably was not around though). Instead I give him an estimate of about 50X40. He then talks to Ryanne about when he is allowed to do this job. Because LJ wants us on full cylinders Mon-Fri, the earliest in the week he can do it is Fri a 4PM and it has to be done by Sunday night. The guy agrees but then gives his own times he is able to come and do stuff. Friday comes and we have to take out all the appliances in the driveway (I forget if the fridges on pallets from the last story were still here at the time but let’s just assume they were) and push them into the kitchen area. That was going to be the first phase.


I leave for the weekend and come back at the asscrack of dawn on Monday. I talk to Ryanne and she tells me the guy was real fun to work with. He was giving times he could work then kept changing them. At one point Ryanne, waiting around the office on a weekend thought he quit for a few moments before he showed up. I remember one of his work sessions was going on at around 11pm on a Sat night. I remember this because one of my friends was driving me back to my house and while we passed the place I noticed that all the lights were on.



Anyway by Sunday night he somehow got everything done. Back to Monday morning I walked into the kitchen and there were still appliances that were not put back. Guess who had to waste time to put them back, me. Thanks a lot asshole. The floors did look nice and Dagay is like: “OOOHHHHHHHHH, the floors are so new and cleeen, OOOOOOOOHHHHHH”. Meanwhile I respond: “Give it until the end of the day and they will look like shit again.” I was right and the floors looked like nothing was done to them in the first place. What a waste Joe, what a waste.
TL;DR Floor Repair project wasted everyone’s time. Floors quickly looked like nothing had been done to them in first place.


One afternoon I’m in the kitchen and LJ comes barging in. He charges toward REE and the back and starts shouting: “GIVE ME MUH FUCKING RESPECK! GIVE ME MUH FUCKING RESPECK! GIVE ME MUH FUCKING RESPECK! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. So what was he flipping out on? From what I found out REE ran into some trouble. I don’t know what but it could have interrupted her employment here. LJ gave her a small loan (I said small not Trump sized) that she had to pay back to him through enveloped cash left on his desk every month. This time she just left the cash on his desk and that pissed him off.


With a knife in had that got me thinking. You want respect, LJ? How about you give us respect first? Give us the modern equipment we need. Stop hiring drivers upon drivers and hire more dedicated kitchen staff besides me and Dagay. Fix the damn AC. Don’t say you are going to give us a raise and then stick your thumb up your ass for weeks at a time. Also don’t insult us and say that we learn/do nothing and everytime we do it fails and make us sign papers stating that. Get off your laughing ass and sell the original location you use for hoarding and get about 200k+ to put towards this stuff.

No I did not knife him (I wish) but LJ is one of the main reasons I quit this job.

TL;DR Owner freaks out at employee. I have some deep thoughts and get mad on the internet.

To finish the summer stories out, I’m going to tell these smaller stories:
What happened while I was on my (unpaid) vacation: Ryanne not remembering the days I wanted off. REE and Dagay argue with each other. One argument was so bad REE stormed out. Dagay constantly complaining that REE and Hessie did not do anything to contribute to the morning deli order. REE and Hessie in shock that I came back from my vacation and did not quit instead.

Remember the quote I started these stories out with? “"There's not much work during the summer. You really have to fight for those hours" Ree, 2017.” Here’s the punchline. It was payday and me and REE were waving our envelopes in the air to symbolize out shit pay. REE looks at her stuff and then goes and complains to Ryanne. She’s complaining about the lack of hours. Bitch please, LJ was working us. If you did not keep coming in 30min+ late and leave around 12-1 and instead stuck around to help clean (instead of leaving me to play fucking janitor) perhaps you would get more money to blow at your favorite bar and date more men.
 
Felt like writing down more Lj’s experiences before they fade my memory.
In the kitchen there was a stereo system on a shelf over looking the room. This one box brought so much grief and discord to the kitchen. For starters, when the radio got turned on in the morning, around 6:30am (never by me usually by Dagay, Ree or Ryanne) most of the time it would be the loud blow your eardrums start. The content being played on the radio was repetitive (and not in a good way).

From 6:30am to about 9:30 am it was news and traffic. Normally the way the program is written you get all the material out of it within 15-20 min. Apparently the reason we had to listen to this crap over and over was so the drivers could get weather and traffic. Really? There is other ways of getting that type of info. The only funny thing I remember coming from the morning news was the one day that Trump dropped some Bomb on Syria, Ree was freaking out that Trump was “going to kill us all”.

After 9:30, the radio would be switched to music. Most of the time it was playing whatever was Top 40 in 2017. Repetitive garbage. Dagay would try to get his ipod loaded with hip-hop and gangsta on, Ryanne would try to get pop country, Ree went with some oldies, I always turned it off (or subtlety lowered the volume since the sink where I did dishes was next to the radio). Usually within a few minutes one of us began to counter the other and Ree and Dagay would start in with their married couple bullshit. Sometimes I wish I went through with unplugged or destroyed the damn thing.

To end on an ironic note, there were numerous mornings where Dagay would want me to turn on the radio. He was like: “OOOOHHHHHHH, It’s too quiet in here, OHHHHHHH. I can hear myself think, OOHHHHHHH”. Not even two hours later he comes over to the radio to turn it off: “shut the fuck up”. I’m thinking in my head: “Maricón you are the one who wanted the damn thing on in the first place”. Also when the radio was on he just loved showing off his cringey dance moves to me, especially when I was walking near him and trying to do my job, he would get in front of me and bust a move. I don’t know if he was trying to be funny or just piss me off.

Tl;DR Radio drives kitchen insane.

On of my major jobs involved doing dishes and cleaning up at the end of the day. Normally I do not mind doing this work but the Wonderful World of Lj’s threw that out of the window.

I would begin dishes after completing the morning deli order and catering prep. The difficulties began with the sink itself. It was a standard three compartment sink. The first thing wrong with it was that the valve in the sanaziter sink could did not have a good seal. In order to get around this I would have to stuff the valve with plastic. As the usual M.O with LJ goes: he called in a plumber to look at the problem and nothing came from it.

Issue 2 involved the plumbing underneath the sink. The grease trap was on the left side. Extending from there was an horizontal angled pipe that serviced the three compartment sink and a two compartment sink. Because of this it did not take much to inundate the system. Debris and draining more than one sink at a time would cause water to breach the air gap and get all over the floor. The solution for this was to put aluminum pans under each sink to contain the leaking (wow). This was only for the normal leaking from the pipe itself, not for an air gap breach.

Issue 3 was a lack of area dedicated to the storage of dirty dishes. There is some space next to the wash sink that fills quickly. From there the dishes would end up on the floor next to the sink, in the handwashing sink and on top of the linen washer and dryer. I tried my darndest to get this under control but there were numerous times where Ryanne would come in and yell to all of us “ DISHES CAN NOT BE PUT ON THE WASHER AND DRYERS. IT IS A HEALTH HAZARD AND VIOLATION”. I’m thinking to myself: “Why are you in here yelling at us, you should be chewing the moron out who designed that part of the kitchen. Hmm, I think his name is Cunt, I mean Joe”.

Those were the physical limitations of the sink. Here are some other things that impeded me getting the dishes done in a timely fashion: Hot water heater issues where the pilot would die. Oversized items that could not fit into the sinks easily. Baked on crap. GREASE, I swear the minute I put an LJ’s dish into the water it would render it a greasy useless mess that had to be changed. Those were minor issues compared the the fact I would get constantly pulled off dishes to do other stuff like call in lunch orders and whatever crap Dagay would need me for. To be fair Ryanne would sometimes step in during these times, it’s just that if the kitchen was not so understaffed during the day I could be kept on dishes for most of the day and knock them out as they came to me instead of being almost done with dishes, getting pulled off and have another pile to deal with.

Afternoon Cleaning was a bitch. The way it was supposed to be divided was Dagay cleaned out the stoves, fryer and his counter. Hessie and Ree cleaned off the counters used for the school lunches. I was supposed to clean the catering/deli counters, sweep the entire kitchen, take out garbage and mop. Ignoring how unfair this division of labor was, here are some of the ways the coworkers created more work for me. The sink in the previous story would leave dirty water all over the floor near the sink. There was also a piece of wet cardboard (to keep the rubber mat in place) that had to be changed every day.

Dagay was the worst offender in impeding my cleaning work. He was a fucking pig who left all sorts of litter on the floor. Everytime I would clean under the mat next to his work area, I would usually find the most that needed to be swept. When he was working in my area (usually for sandwich platters) he would constantly be throwing debris off the counter and on to the floor. So much for keeping the mess on the counter. The other issue was timing. Even though I did not have a set exit time I usually left between 2-3. Ree usually left around 1:30 after getting done with her area (and never offering to help with other things). Hessie was usually on the road coming back from a school site and would not come back until after I left. Dagay on the other hand always had something to do until 4pm onwards. Because of this it was difficult to clean his areas because he was still using them, creating messes and ruining my mop job (more than I already did) with his dirty feet. If Dagay was using an area, I would completely ignore it for that day. Everybody in that kitchen had dirty shoes. Trying to mop that floor was a bitch. No matter how much hot water, dish soap and jugs of bleach I put in the water floor never looked good. Dagay complained about my mopping skills and showed me the way he does it. Spoilers I am not spending two hours a day cleaning the damn floors, especially when everybody else fucked off for the day.

Anyway, garbage was usually more straightforward. Just take a bunch of commercial trash cans that never get emptied during the day outside to the back dumpster (heavy AF). Cardboard was another giant waste product. Usually I would dispose of it when I could into the cardboard dumpster. There were times that Dagay would stop me from throwing away the pile of cardboard on our kitchen floor because in his eyes: “OOOHHHHHHHH, Doogeee has to do it. He’s so lazy he never does anything. OOHHHHHHHHHHHH”. Spoilers Doogeee never did shit and guess who had to waste time to do it. Me. To think the the cardboard would have been dealt with earlier if you were not such a maricón and just let me do it when things were quieter.

There were the more weekly and monthly cleaning projects. The one that sucked the most was cleaning out the grease trap. Excrating grease filled water using a wet vac, putting it into pots and lugging pots out back to the grease box. I usually considered it a job done when the water level was low and the debris piles were non existent. While I was doing this Dagay lowed using the sink and giving me more work…..what else was new.


TL;DR Design and coworker actions made cleaning more annoying than it should have been.
 
The gym where I used to work (same one where the Asian guy drank the pool water and the exceptional guy called everyday and pretended to be kidnapped to get people to call the cops) was (surprise!) at the back of a crappy, cheap apartment complex. There were a few Mexican families in the apartment complex (they never caused any issues and always paid but I suspect they lied about all living in the same apartment to get cheaper gym membership rates, but no real harm done) but mostly it was lower class white families. I had to be careful what I said though because one of my managers lived in the complex.

Most of the neighborhood kids were signed up through some charity membership-thing and came in all the time completely unsupervised, and did whatever they wanted. This mostly just meant the were loud and bothered people and didn't actually work out. One day a man came up to me and said his phone had been stolen. The kids were still in the building. It was reported quickly enough to where we stopped the kids from leaving and found the phone stashed in a locker in one of the changing rooms. We got to call their parents and get their memberships suspended. The guy was happy to get his phone back and gave me a commendation. A glorious day.
 
Rolo_Tomassi said:
I worked at a movie rental store for under the shade of a decade. One time this smelly, dirt covered, oaf of a customer came in with a huge scabbed gash on his face. He didn't understand the terms of our rental program, and proceeded to yell, breaking the scab, causing blood to erupt from his face. He took his hand, bloodied it up, and smeared it all over our counter, and started smacking his bloody hand prints all over our glass doors on his way out. I called our store manager, and in hindsight maybe I overreacted when I just yelled "THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE! IT'S LIKE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE IN HERE!" We go to close the store for the rest of the night, waiting for a hazmat team to come clean up the blood. It ended up being a great night; me and my co-workers got to hang out, watch movies, and just goof off and get paid for it. The cops eventually came and we all gave statements. The security tape was pulled of the incident because the cops said they were eventually going to come back for it - they never did - and that tape stayed in the safe up front until the store closed eight/nine years later - in hindsight, I wish I would have taken the thing. But that's one of many horror stories I have working in at a movie rental store for 9ish years, but now that almost all of them are gone, I remember those years fondly.
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Teresa fidalgo is a woman who died and then people said her ghost wandering around. Later on, different stories of Teresa fidalgo can be seen. If you search it on internet different kind of stories, events and blooded pictures will show up. A woman came up in the search with white clothes and scary eyes. She is like a mystery box.
 
Worked at a gas station for a year and I already put in my 2-week notice when a regular comes in and asks for a cigar, so I gave him one. He pays for it, leaves, and returns saying it’s not the right kind and asks for a refund, and I refuse, bc it’s store policy and I wasn’t going to refund a stupid 99 cent cigar. He curses me out and leaves.

He returns a day or so later and curses me out again bc I told my mom about him. The employee leaving told him to leave bc he was harassing her and he was banned from the store until the manager returned from vacation. I was told that the next time he came to the store was to call the police. So the next time I saw him at the store, I locked the doors and called the police, while another employee didn’t know what was going on so I had to explain what happened to her. I filed a police report that night.

I thought the police were keeping an eye on him bc he didn’t have a license plate but another employee told me they were looking for him bc that same weekend he raped a 10-11 year old girl. Her mom was drunk and asleep and that’s when he messed with her. The worst part was that he did something similar to someone else’s daughter in the 90s.

He won’t be messing with anyone else anymore, and hopefully I won’t be working at another gas station.
 
Potatopatato said:
Signed in to my old, sparcely used account here just to share my tale of woe and suffering as a "day care educator", otherwise known as a glorified babysitter.

In short, you're fucked over the minute you sign on for this job. I went through training to be a tard wrangler. Thus, I was supposed to wrangle tards. In order to become a bona fide tard wrangler, I had to learn all the shit to deal with dumbass regular kids.

They didn't give me the tards. Being a wrangler is, no joke, something I wanted to do. I have a downs niece and wanted to make a difference. You also get paid more and have less kids/more hours, meaning you're not stuck trying to remember which of the four Susans in your class is which. They also dumped the tards on me anyways, without telling me I had them in my class. A lot of them seemed normal, until the inevitable screeching started up.

Instead, they put me on sub duty. Sub duty sucks ass. They routinely called me half an hour before a shift started at places over an hour away. A lot of the time, my shifts where barely an hour long, meaning I was losing money on bus transportation and spending two hours on a bus to work an hour at best.

You could only refuse 3 times before getting blacklisted until next September. They counted not being able to reach you as a refusal, which meant getting up at 5 am and sitting on my ass in case they called. Each time you refused/could not be reached, you were less likely to be called for more work. You could go weeks without being called.

The only way to get tenure was to work at the same school full-time for a year, but you were ass bottom and could be cut at any time, including the hour before you get tenure.

So, at one school I worked at, I supposedly had a class of 22,which was my legal maximum. I was allegedly supposed to be working with two ladies, who we'll call Porker and Ghost.

Porker was the head of the school daycare, and she was an absolute cuntwaffle. I asked her if I had any tards. She said no. In reality, I had three. She put me in charge of 30 fucking kids, so I somehow had to watch 27 kids and 3 tards, all at the same time, as well as handing out after school meals, letting parents in, correctly signing kids out, homework checking, reading, activities and injuries.

To make matters worse, Ghost would drop her class on me to pick up a tard from another school. On any given night, I'd have 30-60 kids, including the tards, two of whom needed their own wrangler. Porker would plop herself down in her office. She also expected me to work a pedological day for free because I often finished cleaning early and couldn't find anything else to do. You weren't allowed to sit around and do nothing, but I had nothing to do. Lazy twat wouldn't do the math to just adjust my pay, nor would she count all the times I arrived early to help out against my early quitting time. Ghost always left 20 minutes before me.

One of my tards was Screamer. Screamer was really autistic. He was a good kid half the time, but the other half of the time... Ooff. He was obsessed with Legos and seemingly random toys in the classroom.

Screamer never had homework, due in full to his special needs. He had a wrangler who would always leave as soon as she could, leaving us to deal with his tantrums. We couldn't let him play while the other kids were doing homework, as he was loud and destructive and would throw things around, which would set off Runner tard.

One day, someone dared to touch one of Screamer's creations and disassemble it for parts. Now, one thing to note about Screamer is that he was never very good at building things, and Porker would not give the kid his own box of Legos. His creations literally looked like... Shit. But he was proud of his shit, damnit!

So, on that blessed day, I was busy trying to get Runner Tard to quit running around in the hallway when I hear the scream to end all screams. I spun around so fucking fast to see Screamer up and flinging Legos every fucking where.

Screamer's creations, which he had hidden in a desperate attempt to keep them from ending up back in the bin were in the bin. Destroyed.

Cue 30 minutes of wailing and screaming like you've never heard. It was like a banshee being run over by a steamroller while everything it loves is destroyed right in front of its eyes.

Porker eventually wanders over and pushes me aside and grabs him hard by both arms. He's screaming, she's screaming, Runner is presumably running, Ghost is gone.

She's in his face, telling the little guy that she can't let him have a dozen fucking bricks of Legos to himself. We all have to share, kid. Poor Screamer is just trying to get away and bawl his eyes out over his 'masterpieces'.

Eventually, he calms down in spite of her. He's still upset, sobbing quietly to himself. At this point, Ghost is back with Violent Sociopath from Juvie, so I go sit with him after telling Ghost. He's drawing bees. Learn bees calm Screamer down. I offer to draw him a bee. He loves the bee I draw him.

Porker brings in snacks for the kids. Ghost is gone, Violent Sociopath is trying to stab a dinosaur's eyes out, Runner is behind her.

Ghost's class is still here. I get chewed out, she takes away Screamer's bees. I am never allowed to draw for him again. She suddenly decides to tell me that Screamer knows he's not allowed to use the crayons after homework time.

Screamer spends the rest of the night screaming in her office while she scolds him.

After a while, she leaves Screamer alone, sobbing, and comes to get his bees. Now, you'd think she'd give the kid his damn bees.

Nope.

All I hear is that fat fuck criticizing the little autistic kid for coloring his bees the wrong color.

I later see them in the recycling. Don't have a chance to snag them, she's guarding a tardlet's drawing of bees like it's radioactive waste.

Now, Runner was, as his name suggests, prone to running. This kid was small, skinny, and Sonic levels of fast. The second you weren't blocking his escape, he was out the fucking door. Runner was happiest bolting up and down the hall until he was out of breath.

He was NEVER out of breath.

If he couldn't run, Runner would smash every single fucking thing he could get his mitts on. Now, I'm not allowed to shut the door because IDEFK, so there was no stopping Runner. Sometimes, Porker would corner him in the boy's bathroom and grab him by his upper arm. He'd go limp and start screeching in pain as she dragged him back to me.

I still have no idea how I was expected to keep him wrangled.

One night, Principal Asshole comes to the classroom and sits at a desk. I'm not told why, he's doing fuck all while I work. Porker makes an attempt at staying on her trotters long enough to look like she's doing something, but can't stand for more than 20 minutes.

Ghost doesn't give a single fuck, she drops off her kids and fucks right off.

On this night, Porker had forced me to set the kids up with silent activities. I spent my spare time drawing stencils for the kids and photocopying them. They're silly things, like hocky playing chickens, Mickey and Minnie having tea, dinosaurs hanging 10, dragons napping, cute animals, and lots and lots of bees. Fuck you, Porker, Screamer is getting his bees.

Now, she set up the groups. This fat fuck put Runner closest to the fucking door, and put Screamer in a group with our third tard; Angel. Angel is an absolute angel. She likes puppies and nothing else. She's a quiet kid and is in her own world.

I think nothing of it and focus on getting Runner to stop snapping pencils and color. I can see he hates it with all his being. Runner hates me, I hate me, and then, it happens.

Screamer starts to scream. Angel took a blue crayon from the box. There are at least three other blue crayons in the box that are the same color, but he wants that one.

Angel has shut down at this point. She's crying, holding onto the pencil and staring at him. I tell Runner to stay there while I deal with this.

Screamer starts to flail and rock back on his chair. I just about reach him when he pushes the chair too far. He goes toppling over backwards and smacks his little child skull on the tile.

The screaming stops. Angel is sobbing and rocking back and forth and all I can think is 'fuck this nigga dead!'. Then, he sits up and starts to cry. I breathe a sigh of relief and hug the shit out of him while checking him over. No bump, no bruise, but it's a head injury. So, I help him up and walk him to Porker's office for some ice after asking Asshole to watch the kids. It's what I'm told to do if a kid hits his head. I was told not to write up an incident report, just tell Porker what happened so she could write it up.

I come back and look and behold, Runner has split. I asked the oldest kid to watch the class and let Porker know.

She knew he was gone. She just didn't tell me.

What.jpeg

I go running up and down the hall looking for this kid, but he's nowhere in sight. There is only one hallway. The secretary eventually pipes up and she's had him this entire time. He'd gotten thirsty and she'd given him a juice box and a cookie.

After that whole fucking shitshow, I'm called into Asshole's office. It is now 6:30, my bus comes in 10. If I miss it, it's a 45 minute wait in the dark in -30*c weather. In the snow. I'm starving and dead on my feet, but can't say no.

Shit.

I sat down and he gave me some whole fucking trashcan speech about how I was 'dangerous' because Screamer hit his head and I did nothing to prevent it.

What. How am I supposed to stop him from doing that????

Asshole doesn't know either, I was just supposed to stop him. Somehow. I'm also supposed to have written a report despite being told by Porker that it was her job.

Then this bitch goes on to tell me about pedophiles in the area. I have no fucking clue why. He then tells me that Runner bolted while I was tending to Screamer. Asshole sat there and said nothing. He watched Runner run, and said cock all.

Then he had the fucking balls to lecture me about how he could have gotten out of a locked door and molested.

I'm livid. He hands me a paper to sign that I've been fired with space to fill out my own comments. And he hands me a pen.

I look him dead in the eye and get to writing. I only technically have one page to fill.

Fuck you and your fucking shitty page rules. And fuck writing fast. He's kept talking until I missed my next bus anyways. Next one is at 8:30. And it's warm in here.

I fill both sides of the page with my comments, then the back of his stupid report pages. I number them so the stupid School board knows how many pages I wrote. I made sure the shit about the tard abuse was on the back of the important report sheets. It was 8:20 when I left. I got home at 10, but I stayed warm.

Needless to say, I don't work for the school system anymore.

I got more stories if anyone wants to hear them.
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Dude I hope they got fired and Angel’s ok.
 
I won't go into much detail, but it involved an AIDS patient who'd pissed himself and was oxygen-dependent, a shitty old apartment building with no elevator, a stair chair, and took place on Christmas. Also disinfectant. Lots and lots of disinfectant. Needless to say, my partner during that particular bit of time I spent as a miserable ambulance jockey didn't stick around much longer after that day. I only outlasted him by a couple of months or so, which is when I put in my two weeks notice, from what I recall.
 
I once worked on a farm. I was sorting eggs until El Frijoles came in to take over for me so I could go on to my next duty which was checking the machines and tractors, as I approached I saw the owner bracing himself against the fender of one of the tractors, bend down and seeming very dazed. I asked what was the matter and he simply pointed behind him. It was at this moment the smell hit me. A cow had been struck by lightening, it was absolutely mortifying.
 
Martys_not_smarty said:
I had the real life equivalent of the African warlord character that plays pubg one time come into a hardware store I was working at years ago along with either his wife or girlfriend not too sure but they came in asking about something temporary to hold a panel on a car in place like fiberglass bondo or what have you and he's explaining to me the situation and the woman says something while hes talking to re-emphasize and he stops and does a hard angle turn to her and goes into warlord mode "excuse me but dey men are talking, wen we are finished den you may ask heem a question undahstand yeh?" And for a minute I was thinking maybe someone was fucking with me like it was a movie or just a prank bro but nope straight up this guy was the real deal.
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The way it should be.
 
When I was in my teens, I did some work experience for a guy who sheared sheep. I would often help gather the wool and bundle it into bags.

Amongst the warm softness of the wool I would often feel something cold and wet - bits of skin he'd taken off while he was sheering them. A lot of the sheep would have cuts on them afterwards.

But that's not even the worst part: According to my mum he's developed dementia since then and is still working.
 
I once saw a grown ass ex military guy cry like a baby when a pizza fresh out of a 700° oven slide off the paddle and draped over his arm cheese side down when he bumped into the guy taking it out who wasn't paying attention. Gruesome, he quit and I never saw him again. Hope he sued.

As for me personally, my shift from hell took place when I learned firsthand no good deed goes unpunished. I worked two jobs, at a small bar/pizza place full time and as a delivery driver at another place on Friday nights. The bar gig only had one cook scheduled per shift, it was a small kitchen with a limited menu. I usually worked Friday during lunch shift, which could be hit or miss business wise but I always made sure to leave the kitchen cleaned, prepped, and fully stocked for the night shift, which was usually pretty busy.

So one day the guy who worked that Friday night asked me a favor. His band booked a gig, and he wanted to switch shifts with me. So me being a nice guy agreed, but I told him I would miss out on a night of tips, so this was a one time deal. He seemed grateful, but when I showed up that night he couldn't have left the building any faster, muttering "it was busy..." on the way out. He left the kitchen and dish area a total disaster, nothing was stocked and messes all over. Worst of all, he didn't thaw out any dough. For some reason the owner insisted on using premade frozen pizza dough even though we had a mixer. Problem is it takes a certain amount of time to thaw properly, preferably overnight. On a Friday night this fucker left me with only five large doughballs and eight small ones, which we used for a few appetizers as well as pizzas.

I was so pissed, the first thing I'd do for my usual day shift would be to inventory how many doughballs were thawed, and pull to thaw that afternoon what I felt we'd sell that night. I only had so many heat sources to utilize to quick thaw what I knew we were going to need that night, so between that and all the other shit he failed to do I was fucking frantic. Then I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and snapped at a server who asked an innocent question. She got pissed and bitched about me to the manager, who decided to confront me. Thing is, neither of those chicks had any idea what kind of problems I walked into, and after I was a rude asshole for a moment didn't fucking care. Now I had two girls pissed at me, a kitchen in disarray, and still had to deal with the inevitable running out of dough.

Sure enough, 90 minutes into my shift I had to use the dough I was desperately trying to thaw as soon as possible. Thing is, even though it's technically thawed and pliable it hadn't proofed properly and absorbed enough air so it was a nightmare to work with, and constantly tore when stretched. This put me even further behind as I'm still having to prep and stock as I go, pissing off the server and manager even more as ticket times got longer. At one point the wait for food got as long as an hour, and some rando customer made his way to the back, demanding to know what's taking so long. Motherfucker turned around real quick when I picked up my pizza knife and told him to get the fuck out of my kitchen. The rest of the shift was a miserable blur, and I've never been happier to clock out and leave.

To this day I carefully evaluate the pros and cons of agreeing to switch shifts or positions with anyone before agreeing, I'm not getting screwed like that again. I hope in some parallel universe instead I smoked weed in my car all night and made $80 in tips delivering pizzas, then went home and chilled out with some Dreamcast games.
 
A decade or so ago I was hard up for a job and I landed this gig at a private after school program, whose only requirement was you have a degree. It was in the school cafeteria, and their selling point was they got people who have degrees to do your kids homework with them before you get off work so you don't have to deal with it when you get home. In practice it was basically a glorified daycare to keep 12-year-olds out of trouble after school. So I was working at this school assisting two women who had actual education degrees, and we were looking after maybe 20 kids between the ages of 11 and 14. They essentially told me I got the job because they generally only get women applying and they like to throw some men into the mix. So they were both lead teachers and I was their assistant. I got there early and set everything up for whatever was planned that day. Standard easy to do but annoying as shit bottom bitch stuff.

They both seemed nice enough at first. They were substitute teachers who were doing this to supplement their income. Meg was pretty young, only around 22 and quite friendly, I actually liked her a lot. The other, Kate, seemed a bit odd but OK. She was around my age, got a lot of substitute days from a local school through a family member who was a teacher there, and her fiance was an apparently failing used car salesman who she talked about a lot. "My fiancee thinks this..." "My fiancee does this..." etc.

So on Fridays we watched movies on a smart board in one of the classrooms. The kids used to pick a movie and I would practice my bit torrent witchcraft to download it onto a USB stick and then we'd make a few bags of popcorn and whatnot. Anyway, one week Kate says she's going to pick what movie we're going to watch and it's going to be a surprise. She brings in an Ella Enchanted DVD. The kids do not want to watch it. Too bad, Kate wants to watch it. So I end up tard wrangling a bunch of 11 to 14 year old boys who would rather blow their brains out than watch fucking Ella Enchanted for an hour and a half. It was kind of weird to pick a movie you wanted to watch instead of what the kids wanted, but whatever.

One day we were talking about favourite fruits. Some kid says he likes bananas, Kate says she does not eat bananas because eating more than eight a day would kill you. The kids were like, what the fuck? Again, a bit weird, but whatever.

A while later we had the kids outside on the school's playground because it was a nice day. Some kid was being a little retard, and would not come out from under the playground equipment when it was time to come in. Kate yells at her to come out over and over again and it escalates to where Kate is clearly having some kind of emotional breakdown, and started screaming that she was going to get me to pick the kid up and carry her in, I'm like, "Woah, I'm not picking up any kids" and Meg has to take Kate to the side to calm her down. Kid ended up staying there until her dad rolled in to pick her up. This was when I start thinking Kate might be nuts.

Meg has a birthday party. She invites me and Kate. We both go, everyone is drinking. It's a standard party for a 23-year-old woman where they're playing terrible music and dancing on the living room. So I'm in the living room having a beer, and Kate is just throwing herself at everything with a dick. She starts grinding on my dick and rubbing her tits on me. Now, Kate was a bit fat, but she had a nice face and big tits and a big ass, and I admittedly kind of wanted to hate fuck her at this point, so I probably would have said fuck it and took the easy lay, but I work with her, I had a girlfriend at the time, I know she's fucking crazy and she has a fiance who she talks about constantly, so I'm kind of like "Ma'am would you please fuck off?" These three or four hipsters dressed as greasers showed up at the party later apparently uninvited and no one knew them. I see them, and I'm pretty drunk and I did the little Fonze "ehhhhh" thing to one of them and he got really mad. Anyway, I go in the kitchen and Kate is sitting around the kitchen table flirting with the greaser guys, and one of them has his arm around her and she's giggling and then they all just disappear shortly after. I don't know if the hipster greasers gangbanged her or she fucked one of them or nothing happened or what, but it added to this bizarre mosaic of who Kate was.

I bought a beat-up Jeep TJ from a classifieds site. I roll into work in it one day and Kate confronts me about not buying a car from her fiance and tells me she can never get married because of people like me with so much venom in her voice that I thought she was going to have a meltdown, but it never got brought up again.

Meg takes me aside one day and tells me Kate called her on her personal phone last night. Kate is drunk and in the bath and she's crying and says she has no friends and she's going to kill herself. Meg thinks this is hilarious and it becomes and inside joke between us. I liked Meg. "How are you today Meg?" "I have no friends and I'm going to kill myself."

I finished up the school year, but I never went back in September despite the fact it paid like $400 a week for two-hours of work a day because it's honestly a little annoying to look after 20 pre-teens for two hours a day. As far as I know Kate is still subbing and working at the after-school program. I never looked at teachers the same way again. Kate was by far the most bizzare person I've ever worked with. We're trusting our kids with some real fucking weirdos.
 
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