Nice boss...
When I was 19 taking my year off to 'save some money for Uni' I had a right royal bender with a mate I hadn't seen for years.
Next day, at work, I became incredibly queasy, unsurprising considering the combinationof lager, Jack daniels and Baileys that was trying to escape from my bowels.
After an hour of continual top and bottom excavation my boss enquired as to whether I was alright (bear in mind this is a Saturday).
"What did you eat yesterday?", he asked.
"Well... I had a Maccy D for lunch"
"Ah, that'll do it. You don't want to eat Macdonalds.You've probably got food poisoning".
He rang my dad to let him know I was coming home. I shit it. Not just because of my ill health, but because my Dad was a bit of a drinker, but liked to boast that he never missed a days work because of it (he once slaughtered my brother for it, and threatened to chuck him out of the house for good if he didn't go to work with a hangover).

My boss, overcome with compassion, DROVE ME HOME.

We arrive to find my Dad looking stern on the doorstep. I trudged in sheepishly.
As my boss drove away, my Dad burst into laughter. "If he can't tell the difference between food poisoning and being a pisshead, then he's a stupid cunt. Well done son."
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Fri 9 Jun 2006, 8:22, Reply)