Shark attack
I was twenty and working as a Retail Supervisor at a popular seaside tourist attraction. This consisted of looking after a gift shop of overpriced tat, an ice cream hut dispensing frozen swirly bacteria and 13 disillusioned, overworked zero-hour contract temps.

The manager of the centre was a chainsmoking toilet-mouthed misogynistic cunt and a half and, besides demanding I worked hideously long shifts for buttons, expected me to carry out 'events' on a regular basis to boost visitor traffic. Disappointed at my apathy in this area, he insisted I implemented one of his cracking ideas.

Christmas in August! Woo yay. Disillusioned temps in Santa hats, snow spray all over the windows, threadbare tinsel wound round the till.

One of my 'team' was a graduate management trainee, a pustule-ridden cliche-trotting bundle of keenness and short-man syndrome to rival aforementioned cunty boss called Gareth. We all had to take turns dressing up as the centre mascot, Shaky the Shark. A rancid outfit consisting of flea-bitten royal blue fur in fucking dungarees.

To cut a long story short(ish)... it was Gareth's turn in the shark. He approached me holding mistletoe. One look at his fuzzy-felt yellowed teeth and a red mist descended.

One very unladylike left hook later, and I exited the said visitor attraction, minus one job and stepping over Shaky as I went.

*pop*
( weebear1974 discovering the joy of cat rape since, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 17:03, Reply)

Cnuts.
Judging by the creative spelling used by many people posting responses, I am truly amazed that they were given a job in the first place.
(DrTugnut, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 16:48, Reply)

Not sacked.
I wish it was me, but my brother-in-law was working at a DIY store, which will be reffered to, for the sake of this story as Housebase. Obviously, if you work with the general public, you get a whole bunch of wankers to deal with.

One customer was busy complaining about the trivialities that amuse them and grabbed his arm. At this, he yelled "FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING CUNT!" and walked out.

Amazingly, the manager rang him up a couple of days later asking whether he was coming back and telling him that he was not sacked.
(lardaholics anonymous, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 16:39, Reply)

sacked
I worked for a financial company whilst living in London, god knows why - that's agencies for you... The secretary was a Slovakian woman with an unhealthy obsession with the company, and whilst I was technically in a higher position than her, in a completely different capacity, as I was younger than her she took it upon herself to make my life a misery. Her finest moment was taking me out for a coffee to tell me my suits were too cheap.

Either way, I'd had a kidney infection and was really quite ill. I'd been signed off work for a month, but the phone calls kept coming to "pop in to do something" after a couple of days laid up. Finally, I went in, still feeling sick as fuck. The secretary, let's call her Ayla, cause that's her name, was talking down at me about something or other when I promptly projectile vomited all over her, and her no-doubt expensive suit.

I never bothered going back after that, a letter arrived telling me they couldn't keep me on (still during my sick note period) and I sent them a curt letter back saying they owed me pay both for the sick time and in lieu of notice, both of which I received. Ha.
(lofichic, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 16:17, Reply)

Sacked Schmacked
I got sacked from a market stall years ago.

We sold infections, diseases and the like, all a bit hush hush to be honest but it was a very popular stall.

One day i was trying to sell a cute old lady some varicose veins and a dose of the clap when a rather irate man stormed to the front of the patiently waiting queue and demanded to see the manager.

Apparently i'd sold him the wrong cancer the week before!!

He'd been after a small dose of lung cancer in an attempt to gain sympathy from his estranged family, plus get signed off work whilst waiting for the op to have a lung removed.

Well in my haste to make a decent commission (cancers carry a premium commision you know) i must have bagged up stomach cancer, which meant the poor bastard now had only 2 weeks of agonising life to live before dying miserably.

Despite a previously unblemished sales record and being the all time record holder of the sales of urinary infections i was fired.

An injustice i'm sure you'll agree.

As i left i robbed some whooping cough and a brain tumour. hehe.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 15:59, Reply)

Sacked??? hah!......Where do I Begin!!!
I've been sacked from more jobs than ive had hot dinners! (and not a single regret!) largely due to A) Me having a complete lack of respect for authority and B) usually taking the first crappy job thats offered to me.

I seem to have fallen in with a lot of jobs in the financial sector, (and been fired from all of them), these include Halifax, Abbey National, Norich union, etc

Why i keep falling into these jobs i don't know as i genually believe that the world would be a better place if everyone who worked in a financial sector based job went out and killed themselves.....I'm not being cute i really wish 99% of them dead! (and take anyone involved in sales and marketing with you....please!)

One of my better moments of job satisfaction was walking into work one morning (Direct Line this was)hungover as a lush, 10 minutes late cue Line manager/anal retentive weirdo attempting to dish out bollocking. Cue me standing up and in front of eveyone telling him that i hope he catch's gonarrea (spelling?) and dies slowly in pain for being a dead eyed, souless, satans cock sucking beuraucratic Wanker, who had about 10 seconds to piss off out of my way or i'd start to break all of his fingers one at a time..........as the guy was a bit of a ....well a bit of a.....line mamager really (cant think of a more suitable put down), he just went white as a sheet mumbled something inaudible and left just before i did.

There are many other examples of when i have just snapped and taken it out on whoever my superior is but im saving them for a book im writing called how to be happy!!......Step 1) Don't give a shit what tossers and people who believe that being a contemptable sub-human wanker is justified by the pursuit of money think.......Just threaten them with violence they soon dissapear Step 2.....well you'll have to buy my book for the rest!!

No apologies for lengh.....I'm psid by the word!
(Charlie big bananas, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 15:35, Reply)

My finest leaving a job/getting sacked moment
was when I used to be assistant manager of a pub. The pub was owned by a small chain from Brighton who gave less than a fuck about our little outpost in Lewes that they'd acquired as part of a deal.

We had a fantastic manager for about 3 months during which time we had an in house pill dealer and would regularly buy coke out of the days takings. Eventually, he got sacked when our £9,000 stock deficit came to light and they appointed the first person who applied for the job.

The woman they chose was the most useless, objectionable person ever to set foot in a pub. She did fuck all work and clearly had no clue what she was doing. After a week of running the place on half her salary I'd had enough.

Friday night came around and me and a mate decided to get drunk. After the best part of a bottle of absinthe and a bottle of Agwa, we were pretty far gone. The manager's tosser boyfriend had a go at me so I decided to storm out.

As I was leaving, she came over and asked what was up. I preceded to tell her at great length exactly what I thought of her. The DJ we had on decided to do one of those clever stop the music for a bit tricks, just as I shouted in the manager's face "Basically you're a fat cunt and everyone hates you".

The music never came back on and I got a round of applause.

I then got barred from every pub in the chain for six months...
(Ed Can Do, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 14:00, Reply)

Jebus
I've seen a number of spectacular sackings in my time, but Jesus Paul's was rather special.

Jesus Paul was taken on by the Dole Office as a temp, and he had to send out letters to people who hadn't turned up to sign on, to warn them they wouldn't get any money unless they showed their face pretty sharpish.

It was only after three weeks that we found out he was including a religious leaflet in each missive, and rounding off his letters with an invitation to accept The Lord Jesus into their lives or face the Wrath of God come the End Time. Several replies were received on the subject, saying that the Dole Office might consider "Getting to Fuck".

It was when he started a brawl with a group of claimants ("Do you believe in Jesus?" "No" *THUMP!*) that he was shown the door.

Poor, poor Jesus Paul.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 13:19, Reply)

i was sacked once, but it's a crap story.
Instead, let me tell you the story of my friend.

Now, she's a lovely lass, and is one of the more intelligent people I know. However, she was on a job trial for six months at this place as a PA. Her boss was a twat. She was given far too much work to do - an almost unbelievable feat for a girl who can type faster than most people can talk (so she stopped taking lunch breaks and always left at half nine at night). Her boss even had her arranging nights out for him and his mistress. Nice.

So anyway, my friend ,being lovely, took all this on her chin and never expected to be fired.

It was around Christmas time, so she went to work feeling pretty happy. Then they asked her to resign (rather than fire her because that would look bad on her CV) because she hadn't reached their expectations - a fucking robot on speed wouldn't have met their expectations, but there you go.

However, just after the boss says this, she smiles, and hands the boss a neatly wrapped, thoughtfully chosen, Christmas present. She said the look on his face was priceless.

Poor thing.
( mrlogic is copying your beard, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 11:54, Reply)

my mate evelyn
i've never been sacked, although i have my review this week, so will keep you posted on that one.

but my friend eve is another matter. bright as a button but scatty as a loon on loon drugs (ni-eve would be a better name for her), she turned up for a new job as a PA. at about 4.30pm, the boss said that he was leaving and would see her tomorrow.

for some reason, eve decided that what he was really saying was, "go on love, it's your first day, no need to make a good impression, just fuck off an hour and a half early". so she did. and he came back to find her gone. she had lasted less than a day before being sacked.

four years later, as a lawyer, she left a highly confidential file in a kebab house at 3am; dropped original documents under the wheels of a tube and brought a stinking sack of rubbish to work and sat with it under her desk all day, labouring under the fond delusion that she had picked up her gym kit. she only found out when she opened it to get changed after work.

amazingly she has not yet died from forgetting how to breathe...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 11:09, Reply)

Ok this is my story
So i used to work at this movie theater. I had been there for about 7 months and my friend shows me how to filter money out of the system without getting caught. We scammed our way out of at least 100 dollars every shift we were working. If we worked a double or it was relaly busy we would make 200. It was a bas-ass job. I sold popcorn for 6.00 but actually made so much more off of the corporate scum! We had a mathematical system of keeping track of cups, bags, and other random stock items then applying it to what we could sell off. It was damn good! So 3 years pass of me doing this. I had gotten a couple bullshit reprimands for being late and stuff of the same nature in that time frame. I come to work one day forgetting my name tag and they fire me!
(|insertnickhere|, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 10:47, Reply)

One flew over the magic roundabout
I used to work for a Big Petroleum company in Hemel Hempstead, in a now-demolished tower overlooking Hemel's infamous 'funny roundabout'. I was a computer operator on shift work, and the nights were often spent in the print room with massive xerox printers and lots and lots of paper and cardboard. I began a programme of construction with my fellow workers and for a while the print room was brought to life with all manner of cardboard delights. I remember a double-barrelled shotgun hanging above the desk, next to a mounted moose's head. It didn't last. I was called up to the managers's office, who grilled me about a book he had found in the print room. This hand-bound volume, named the Xeronomicon, was the print room's 'blog' of the day, illustrated with some of the greatest art and wit ever committed to waste paper. I was escorted off the premises by a security guard. I think my fondest memory was when the 3 metre wingspan glider made its dawn flight from the 20th floor, across Hemel's mystical landscaspe.
( reaper cushions, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 10:45, Reply)

Not quite relevant, but I don't really care
With both of our mothers nagging us to get part-time jobs when we turned 16, me and a good friend went and applied for jobs at the handy nearby McDonalds.

We both got interviews, and I was immediately offered a job while he wasn't. We never figured out what made him somehow unsuitable to work in a sweaty building full of chavs, but in the long run I think he was the lucky one.
( kingofpork is the king of pork, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 1:28, Reply)

Sacked
I once worked in a holiday camp as a barman on the border of Scotland. Straight after uni a gang of us went up to work on the bar.

The manager of the bar decided to start seeing one of the girls we worked with (he was already married/engaged) and she was - well quite hot. I'd had a 'sort of fling' with her for a while at Uni and desire still simmered somewhere.

One night the i got absolutely hammered and made a bit of a prick of myself - drinking the managers beer and trying to set him up with two flusies who happened to be in the bar that night. I also then told him not to mess the 'other girl' around as i 'wouldn't be happy'. (He probably outweighed me by three stone and probably would have killed me). Then in a bit of a haze - i managed to find myself alone with the woman later on and (was told), tried to kiss her. She was having none of it.

Next day turned up for work feeling more than a bit sheepish to the words from the boss 'Dont worry about it, no problem'.
'Great' i thought, got away with that one.
8 hours later i was informed by the assistant manager - who was completely bemused, that the manager wasn't happy with me. 20 mins later i was told to leave the next day.

I thought the manager was a prick - but as it turned out - he married the girl and they are living happily ever after in Australia. So he must have been alright after all.

Wasn't too happy about being sacked though, we were having a great laugh getting pissed and stoned every night after work.
Those we're the days.
(Popped my cherry at long last)
(mcguis, Mon 27 Feb 2006, 0:27, Reply)

i got sacked
from the police force

i kept beating OAPS for there pensions

fair cop
(getdown is not spanish, Sun 26 Feb 2006, 23:16, Reply)

I preffer forcably quit. :)
Worked at a small restraunt for one night, just general dogs body in the kitchens cleaning up and helping out where it was needed when a chef handed me a frying pan without warning me of the flesh blisteringly hot handle, I threw it back at him while screaming some choice words and now I'm the first person I know to be barred from a restraunt.
(Vikingheadache, Sun 26 Feb 2006, 22:44, Reply)

not quite sacked
but i quit a job a few years ago after helping a friend set up a small fabrication company.when i started there was me and a little shit.3 years later when i left i was in charge of around 12 or so workers,running the shop floor and basically making him a fortune.for this i was paid £20 a week more than the lads i was supervising.

so after a 3 years,the "friend"buying a £180 000 house and his wife packing her job in to be a kept woman,i was accused of being inept and letting the lads "toss it off!".all this after working a 60 hour week.

that was the final straw and i left for pastures new.

the kept woman still bears a grudge and uses parts of my life i am not so proud of to show me up everytime she sees me as she cant put me down for leaving for more money/less responsibilty.

apologies for length,your mother n all that.
(Tyke, Sun 26 Feb 2006, 22:36, Reply)

my first webbie job
not long after the job with the psycho boss who got fired for bullying (another story) I got a job as a webbie, chiefly because my mate had just got the job as office manager because his mate had bought the company.

The new owner had spent quite a lot of money in order to take on one rrebellios teenager coder, two ancient PCs full of pirated software, and a few customers. His first act was to eploy a manager and two other webbies, and buy us all nice new computers full of legit software, and rent some office space for us.

He then had to put up the prices, and P*ssed off all the customers who promptly left.

Alll this without actually having been on a website for four years.

Other fun included getting a pay-per minute ISDN line, and telling us all off when the internet bill was massive (two grand. hee-hee), and generally thinking he knew more about websites than those of us who built them...

In short, he was a total twunt, and an angry sod too. Every time I designed anything (which the other guys all thought was pretty good usually) he walked in, took one look at it and said "I don't like it - start again".

then after my three month probationary period, he told me I had an attitude problem, and he was going to extend my probationary period for another month and unless I bucked up I'd be out. I asked about whether I'd be getting the pay-rise he'd previously told me about, and he said "what pay-rise?".

All things considered, and not really wanting to be saddled with another psycho boss so soon after the last one, I went home and drafted a delicious letter of resignation where I told him exactly what I thought of him. When he read it he went all beetroot coloured and ordered me out at once. I enjoyed that.

It's much more fun doing the chucking than being chucked!
(teasus likes tea, Sun 26 Feb 2006, 21:00, Reply)

nortel networks
My first and last factory job was with Nortel, who make opto-electronic components. I put off applying to them for ages due to their "hire-em, fire-em" reputation.

I spent two weeks in training, which was a total doss, and taught us nothing about the job at all -which was mainly becuse there was nothing to learn...

I then ended up in "testing and packing" which meant taking little chips with an opto cable on them, plugging them into a computer and hitting a button. The computer then told you if they worked or not. The whole process lasted about 20 seconds, which was just too long to be interesting and just too short to do anything else. I was really jealous of the guys whose components took 5 minutes to test.I really hated it there, big time. It was like a long slow death of the mind.

So imagine my joy when after a week in this awful department, almost everyone was laid off at once and given the same pay-off - an extra three months wages! Hoorah.

A nice little bonus was that I got chatting to a mate afterwards and we missed the bus home. This meant we were the only people there when the TV people arrived, and were duly interviewed.

An ex-boss saw me on telly, felt guilty having laid me off less than a year previously, and offered me some work. Result!
(teasus likes tea, Sun 26 Feb 2006, 20:40, Reply)