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This is a question Sacked II

I once had a "friend" (I hated his guts) who lost two jobs on the same day - he drunkenly crashed the taxi he was driving when he was supposed to be at his office job. How have you been sacked?

(, Thu 29 May 2014, 13:33)
Pages: Popular, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

My dad got fired from the priesthood last year.
Well, he WAS a canon. (Fuck emvee beat me to it)
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 13:26, 8 replies)

(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 13:08, 12 replies)
Allegedly, as I never saw it myself
a disgruntled pasteup artist at the Gloucestershire Echo once de facto handed in his notice with immediate effect, by slightly rearranging the order of the words in that days headline.

It was caught before the papers went out, but not before several thousand copies had been printed.

This was on a day when one of the regions large employers had announced a round of redundancies.

What should have appeared was "Jobs blow at Smiths Industries".
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 12:07, 2 replies)
We've had loads of nutters
work at my place because it used to be a proper publishing house, where work would start at 10.30 and end just after midday when a bottle of wine would be passed around before heading off to the pub for the afternoon.
But in the digital age they've had to up their game a bit, and now the offices are full of people in suits striding about purposefully and prodding buttons on their blackberries with serious expressions on their thick-rimmed-spectacled faces.
One of the old-school types lasted a few years despite not really doing any kind of work, he'd just stagger about. But he did have one responsibility, and that was to press a button which would take edited content and publish it live to our research platform used by a number of blue chip companies around the globe.
One morning, the fellow somehow managed to press the wrong button, and insert a private fantasy that he had typed out and saved to his desktop into the edited content before publishing it. So after he had left for the day, a search for the Equality Act 2010 would bring up the following abstract:

Equality Act 2010, An Act to make provision to require Ministers of the Crown to slip into your room when you are asleep, and gently touch your face. When you wake up you don't know who I am but then you recognise me. You roll over and smile, you want me so much, you want me there and then; and for connected purposes.

Despite a record number of complaints, this managed to stay online for about two and a half weeks.
Edit: He got sacked. I forgot to say that.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:57, 3 replies)
Be sure your sins...
I worked with a contractor once. Since he was paid by the hour, at some astronomical rate, he was happy to work through the weekend.

He was less happy when he arrived on Monday morning to find a stack of printouts on his chair: a log of all the porn sites he'd visited while supposedly working over the weekend...
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:57, 4 replies)
A friend was a dealer in a casino once
He was given his own deck
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:42, Reply)
I went for a routine circumcision
but the surgeon missed my foreskin altogether.
He got the P45 form.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:41, Reply)
A friend used to work at a popular high street lingerie chain
until he received a rosé undergarment worn beneath a dress or skirt to help it hang smoothly and to prevent chafing of the skin from coarse fabrics such as wool
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:37, Reply)
A group of friends used to provide the laughter track for comedy programmes
they were fired
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:32, Reply)
I once took on a Spanish waiter.
It turned out to be an English actor putting on a terrible accent.

I got the Sachs.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:19, Reply)
I was once employed, briefly, to obtain a large hessian bag.
I got the sack.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:18, Reply)
My mate's a copper, and got caught taking back-hander payments to let businessmen off crimes, and beating up forrins.
He got sacked.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:07, 1 reply)
I lost my job as a mohel yesterday.
I got the sack.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 11:04, Reply)
My friend had a job as a Roman Catholic priest
He was sacked
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 10:57, Reply)
I worked with a guy who was fired for fiddling his expenses
He took advantage of the fact that the finance dept had hired a bunch of temps to deal with expenses and forged his boss's signature on the claim form for about 6 months.

His was rumbled when a random spot check uncovered dozens of meals at posh restaurants at the weekends which were obviously not work related. All told he racked up a bill of about £6K which he was forced to pay back after he was canned or have the police involved.

The best part of the story was not the act, but rather the rumours that swept the industry afterwards. My personal favourite was that he was rugby tackled at Heathrow Airport by his line manager as he tried to flee the country.
(, Wed 4 Jun 2014, 10:19, Reply)
I was fired because
I subjugated so much poon in my shed that I fell over the exhaust vent I was supposed to fit to my space station, and ended up pissing in my own mouth. The subjugated poon was not amused, so I had to drive her home in my Honda Accord.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 21:28, 8 replies)
I climped to the top of Machu Piccu.
Long story short: apex Mayan mount.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 15:20, 11 replies)
Worked as a temp for a law firm.
It was in some converted loft in Lahndan and had its own fitted kitchen with coffee machine and American-style giant fridge, because the firm was filthy rich.

One of the senior partners was on a diet at the time and was in a quasi-permanent bad mood, but allowed himself "cheat days" where he could basically eat whatever the hell he wanted all day and magically keep slimming. The arrival of this particular cheat day was heralded by his portly pinstriped form arriving at 07:00 and heading straight for the fridge with a large box of posh takeaway cakes.

Surely he wouldn't notice if just one of those cakes vanished from its box via a hitherto unexplained phenomenon of quantum cake tunneling.

I waited until 10:30, a time when I felt sure he'd be in a meeting with a client or in chambers or generally nowhere near the vicinity of the kitchen, before wandering off nonchalantly to make myself a coffee and investigate the contents of the box. Unfortunately, this was the exact time he chose to have a mid-morning coffee and an eclair, and he strode into the kitchen to find said eclair being lifted from the box by my impertinent early-twentysomething fingers.

A few moments later I was being escorted from the premises by the aforementioned senior partner and flung out onto the street with a parting cry of "STAY ABOUT FROM MY BINGE!".
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 14:56, 10 replies)
I lost a job at a butchers for having sex with the girl who was, bizarrely, employed to just slice bacon.
Absolute joke.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 10:32, 16 replies)
"Your body language is telling me that you don't want the job".
I turned up for my first day of a new job. I was supposed to be writing training manuals for a woman and her beauty business.

I tried to plug in my laptop. "Let me do it!" she shouted, diving beneath the desk: "Health and safety! It's not safe for you to do it".

She then handed me a sheath of typed notes. "This is what I want you to type up. I wrote it on my computer, I just want you to put it into a nice format."

"If you've already done it on your computer", I asked, "could you email me the file? I could just reformat it then. It makes more sense than me typing it from scratch."
"No. I don't want to get a virus from your computer."
"You won't get a virus from emailing me a file."
"No. I don't want to do that. Just type it up."

I started typing up the many pages of notes. While I did so, she stood over me. After five minutes of staring at me, she spoke:
"I don't think you want this job, do you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your body language is telling me that you don't want the job."
"Excuse me?"
"Look at you, with your shoulders all hunched up. You think this job's beneath you, don't you."
"No, I want this job. That's why I've turned up to do it. You don't seem to want me here though."
"That's right, I don't want you here because your body language tells me that you don't want this job. You should go now."

Baffled, I closed my laptop and went to unplug it.

"No!" she shouted, diving under the desk again. "Health and safety! I must unplug it for you."

I grabbed my laptop and left. It was less than forty minutes from arrival to sacking. It remains one of the strangest - and definitely the shortest - jobs I've ever done.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 10:21, 43 replies)
when i was a student, i was working in a letting agency
we had a cleaner called marc. marc was responsible for cleaning, naturally, and also for doing inventories. he was shit at both. his idea of an inventory was "carpet", so that it was impossible to tell who was responsible for damage when the next tenant checked out. and as a cleaner, well, let's just say that he failed to notice when three disgruntled tenants (brothers, their mum must have been so proud) shat on the floor and wiped their arses on the curtains.

on top of this, marc smelled. oh god, he smelled. he smelled like a tramp corpse with butt rape and stilton inside it. it was 40 years of cigarettes and garlic and beer and sweat, all distilled into one seldom washed package. and, to make matters worse, he insisted on calling clients, "ze geezer" to their faces (he was french). clients did not like being called "geezers".

one day he was dispatched to a little house about 25 miles from the office to hand over keys to the new tenants. an hour later, he was back - the keys didn't work. the manager had decided that it was his last day, so she took the opportunity whilst he was in the office of hauling him upstairs and sacking him. this did not go down well. we adduced from the shouts of "fucking beetch" that he did not want to work his one month's notice.

he then stomped downstairs and up to the male director, to demand if the "fucking beetch" was telling the truth. assured that she was, he stormed out. we were all agog, as you can imagine.

about 6 hours later, i was signing up a new tenant at the counter, when i saw him weaving up to the shop door. clearly he had spent the past 6 hours in the pub. he was clutching a shitty little bunch of muddy daffodils that he had clearly nicked from the tiny village green next to the shop. the directors were all out, and we didn't know what to do. including the customers, we all watched open mouthed as he staggered in and weaved around the office, presenting these half-dead weeds to each of the girls with exaggerated courtesy. finally he turned to the second-in-command, who was very friendly with the "fucking beetch", and said in this chilling voice:

"and YOU. YOU do not get a flow-errr. because you are a fucking beetch as well!"

fortunately the team of plumbers/joiners turned up at that exact moment and persuaded him to leave. as we watched his reeking back disappear for the last time, the phone rang. i apologised again to my customer and picked it up. it's pretty common in that job to get angry phone calls - tenants blame you for everything from a leaking toilet to their own PMT. but this guy had good reason to shout.


(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 9:23, 38 replies)
I've never been sacked, fired or otherwise unwillingly terminated
There was the place that gave me a woefully uncompetitive wage for four years. In hindsight it's apparent that the wage was an open invitation to pursue other opportunities.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 2:17, 1 reply)
Sacked...I think
I was a few months out of uni and had just started working for a media sales company (yuck).

A few times the lead salesperson that sat across from me, a bloke called Nigel, had sneakily rang some of my leads and undersold the space they had been considering buying from me.

He did this while I was away from my desk, usually at lunch.

What irked me the most was he didn't need to do it. He had lots of big clients to sell to and was pretty good at what he did - but I guess media sales and greed go hand-in-hand.

One day, when he was a lunch, Levis, his client, called up wanting to place a full page ad. I seized the opportunity and sold it to them at a much cheaper rate than he'd been offering.

He came back from lunch. I didn't mention the call and waited for him to chase up his clients.

A few phone calls later and he'd obviously gotten around to calling Levis. I could tell because his face was crimson and regardless of whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying, our mate Nige could only muster repetitions of "is that so?".

He put the phone down and immediately reached over the desks to throw a punch at me. The act of throwing a punch from a sitting position across two desks was more difficult than he'd imagined, he fell short.

In true internet hardman style, I stood up while he was sprawled over the desks, grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him across the remainder of the desk and on to the ground.

There was no epic fight to the death, I left him on the floor and walked (relatively calmly) in to the manager's office. After I had finished explaining what had happened the manager agreed that Nigel was in the wrong - not only for throwing the punch but also for his underhanded selling tactics.

A moral victory for me? Not quite, the manager said that it was best that I left the company as Nigel was a top performer after all.

I got paid out for the month based on my current commission level - which was tracking quite well after the Levis sale.

TLDR: An unethical salesman tried to punch me and I was let go.
(, Tue 3 Jun 2014, 1:53, 1 reply)
This PUA has never been sacked. Being sacked is for spineless pussies and not fine ALPHA MALE SPECIMENS like myself.
Last month they tried to get rid of me because no work was getting done on the third floor. All the sluts up there were now spending all their time discussing what I did with them last time I took them out. Since mastering THE GAME earlier this year I've wined, dined and fucked all of them, some in groups of two or three, and whilst there is some proper fine ass up there this ALPHA MALE don't like to stay in one place, but keep moving like a TRUE PLAYER. So yeah, when my manager called me into her office, my ALPHA MALE pheromones overcame her and she forgot what she called me in for. Instead I put that dirty bitch to the sword right there on the desk. Damn, I made her squeal. But that same day she recommended me for promotion. What can I say, you either got it or you don't.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 20:37, 9 replies)
Yer - I've always been a fan of Louis Armstrong.

(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 19:15, 9 replies)
I warned, warned and warned again.
But I was too stupid to stay about from the bins.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 18:44, 1 reply)
Was let go, as contract workers can be with very little reason, because I do not control space, time and the universe.
I used to be an engineer at Aston Martin. My sole responsibility was to fix issues on the production line which stopped a car passing with a clean bill of health first time through. Anything that cropped up in electrical/powertrain needed to be investigated, contained and prevented from reoccurrence.

Bar charts/stats/analysis showed us what the biggest issues were and one by one we knocked over the problems until there were the 'last big two issues' left.

One was the navigation system not achieving GPS lock in the cycle time of the end-of-line production sequence when the car is hooked up to the factory mainframe for configuration/module programming/electronic test sequences. The other issue was the anti-theft tracking device not commissioning in the same time frame (the module used the GSM network to send an SMS to the tracking company and expected a reply within 45 seconds).

As these were persistent failures that required retests there was a lot of pressure from management to sort these remaining big issues which made an uncomfortably large spike on the weekly report of failures.

After about three weeks of 'Why is this still happening?' in the team meetings I snapped a little bit and said to a room full of management-

"Look. The Nav system isn't getting GPS lock because we're inside a big metal-roofed factory and the repeater for GPS is giving an offset location- and I can't really control what GPS satellites are in the constellation that are visible to the antenna at any time of day. Secondly, the tracker unit is expecting a response to it's SMS that it sends over the GSM network- I have no way of influencing the traffic on the GSM network to make it happen in a specific time frame. I have no control over these issues so how do you expect me to fix the problem?"

Oops. Accidentally pointed out to everyone that I was surplus to requirement.

Goodbye Aston Martin.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 18:15, 20 replies)
I've never been sacked
Been made redundant twice. First time, the whole division was laid off which was harsh but at least it was pretty transparent - everyone was gone. I also reported to a US division so I had a stupidly high US wage coupled with European paid holidays. Made a fortune off that.

Second time, the company pretended to go through a "consultation" saying people would be laid off based on core competencies, not what project they happened to be on. It was all a sham for the paperwork and they just laid off an entire team, me included. Felt bitter about that although the blow was softened by an enormous wad of fuck-off money.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 17:16, 12 replies)
F**rh*lme got sacked again.

Poor old Dr. Shambolic, get so upset you grassed him up to the mods? Again.

One-nil to Robbie F.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 13:56, 45 replies)
Not sacked either, which was a surprise
In my younger days I started "working" for a large publicly-funded organisation where promotion was the inevitable result of serving out your time. So despite me being a lazy, feckless cunt who thought that turning up on time and attending meetings was the full extent of my duties and responsibilities, I progressed through the organisation to become head of my department for a number of years.

I finally retired a couple of years ago and received a considerable golden handshake and index-linked pension, despite there being no sign that I'd had any impact on the organisation.

Unfortunately, during my time there, various budget cuts meant that no one was able to rise through the ranks as I had done and my old position remains vacant to this day.

If you're a bullshit artist who can give the appearance of actually giving a toss, while sitting on your expensively-besuited arse in your corner office on the sixth floor, it might be worth your while to apply for the post of Head of Children and Young People's Welfare at the BBC.
(, Mon 2 Jun 2014, 11:06, 4 replies)

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