I am responsible for collecting lost property
so any good stuff goes straight in my bag. Plus interesting company products that happen to be lying around.

And I'm late every day, and take half an hour extra for my break, stand around chatting most of my time and always slope off early.

Just normal British work practices, really.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 23:09, Reply)

Iceland for the epic win
But I can say why I WAS fired from my job, right?

I worked at Iceland from October 2005 to November 2006. It was the best work of my life, I worked with two of my best friends and every single person there, even the bit-of-a-cunt manager, was a great bloke/girl, and the drinks down the pub after work were legendary.

Stuff I did that should have got me fired but didn't:

-Regularly took 50-100% more of my break than I was entitled to. Between the employees the record was 300%, something I couldn't quite match with my 200%, taking 45 minutes instead of 15.
-When the shop was particularly quiet (usually) me and my friends would take it in turn to make a noise that we described as the sound an oriental woman would make if a large cock was suddenly rammed up her bum, but which, in all honesty, sounded a lot like a cat being raped and strangled. You'd hear these death-calls from one end of the store, then an answer from the other end. If a customer looked at you in a "WTF" manner, you simply shook your head and said "bloody kids coming in here mucking around " before setting off round the corner to do it yourself.
-Making a suit out of cardboard boxes. Well, who hasn't?
-Epic duels with brooms and/or mops in the warehouse. Spiffing stuff.
-Outright swearing at dense customers who wouldn't notice. Just a few of these are examples of real conversations that took place:
"OK, madam, that's £2.34 change and your reciept, you cunt."
That was a regular when giving change on tills. Also:
"Excuse me, young man, where might I find the caster sugar?"
"I'm afraid we don't have any here, but you can fuck me in my cunt if you'd like."
Our logic was that no one would notice the offensive utterances, and that if they did, they would simply think "he couldn't have possibly said that."

The real stand-out moment in my mind, though, is thus: Iceland, as you may well know, have a home delivery service. How it works is that a customer comes to the till, asks for a delivery. Till-bitch rings for a shop floor-bitch, who packs up bags, takes them out back, crates them up and leaves them for the driver. Dead easy, but fucking hassle, and you learn to dread the bell that signals a delivery.

Iceland closes at 2000 hours. At approx. 1957, some old bint comes in with a massive trolley and wants a home delivery. Who's the bitch who has to crate it? Me.

I wanted to buy myself some dinner. Now this old cunt is standing over me, ten minutes after I've stopped being paid, telling me to make sure her cheese doesn't get squashed. She's highly adamant about this. I smile politely and tell her not to worry, it won't be.

Six or seven minutes later, and my colleagues come out back to find me whirling a plastic bag over my head, smashing it into the walls and desk and anything, blowing it to buggery. Rectum? That's right. Inside the bag- old hag's cheese. From that day forth, whenever one of us was dealing with a cuntish customer who wanted a delivery, the till-bitch would ask the packer to "get some cheese once you've done that." In this manner, sugar was pierced and split, fizzy drinks shaken to fuck and bread squashed for months on end.

What got me fired in the end was mine and another friend's "foolproof" way of robbing the tills. We got about a grand between us but got found out, fired and arrested.

So don't steal kiddies, you lose a brill job where you can call customers cunts and make fantastically surreal screaming noises.

I now work at Sainsbury's on the tills after conveniently forgetting to mention that I ever worked at Iceland. It's boring as fuck.

Length? Best thirteen paid months of my life.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 23:00, Reply)

oops
Because i began an inappropriate relationship with a manager after convincing the owner i was a lesbian to cover it up. The other staff clearly knew exactly what was happening.

Then breaking up in a rather nasty way.

....wait...i probably AM going to be fired.
oops
(animal nitrate, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 22:59, Reply)

Cinema-who-cannot-be-named
well, its safe to say that if you work in a cinema, its because you couldnt get a better job/too lazy to find a better job. We generally stand around, talking to each other, throw stuff around the cinema, played amercian football with a toilet roll, watch the films when at work, also have a 5 second rule when it comes to food etc
as for me im perfect. althought i do have a habit of turing up absolutely hammered and trying to work on the busiest day of the year on my own with eqipument that doesnt work and being hungover and trying to expalin its all a pile of shite gets you formal complaints.
Actually come to think of it, most people turn up drunk for work...hmm...
(morningtoncrescent, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 22:54, Reply)

Not me im afraid...
But last week someone.... well some two...(In a upper class supermarket) kicked a packet of butter over the wall of our loading bay and the restaurant manager next door complained....Surprisingly it was the person you would least expect...


Oh I've thought of something!

I should be sacked because I called my section shit on myspace...a fat bitch grassed me in and I got a moaning at... And i hate the job and I really don't try very hard...

Perfect!
(Alexander The Great, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 22:39, Reply)

Because ... and I quote (from Kevin Spacey)...
"My job basically consists of masking my contempt for the hass-oles in charge and, at least once a day, going to the men's room, so I can jerk off, and fantasise about having a life that does not so closely resemble hell."

Edit: This is actually true. (I'm another MAFF employee, ScaryDuck...)
(hangableautobulb is an anagram of the best album ever, on, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 22:36, Reply)

I won't name them because there are too many reasons for me to be fired
That and I don't have a job.
(King Baby Duck more than a ceiling, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 21:58, Reply)

well
at a grocery store...
working in produce i regularly took fruit back to check for product quality.
Pluots are very good.
wasnt 18 yet so i wasnt supposed to have a knife, operate machinery, or throw trash away.
so,
i carried my own knife,
pushed whatever buttons i wanted, and pitched 75 mph oranges into the dump.
last day i worked there came down with food poisoning or something... left work 5 hours early after telling my coworker to enjoy the evening as i was supposed to close.
ate a whole habanero pepper( drank a half gallon of milk in the process, and im not a big person, and kept it down.)

at a pizza place...
experimented with making food and whatnot and didnt really pay for it
served with one hand and ate with the same hand
not a big deal but it aggravated the manager.
water drips in the crust room and i just left like that.
5 second rule applied to food on the ground.
if i didnt want to put something through the washer i nonchalantly threw it into a corner to be picked up a few weeks later.

but, luckily, i was one of the better workers.
when i quit they said i have a standing job should i want it

length? 3-5 months.
(fisherOfApples123 -=destroyer of toilets=-, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 21:42, Reply)

I have recently been fired for
disclosing "Company secrets" after 5 years. What I should have been fired for was spending the last 5 years of work on B3ta and secretly using my work contacts to line my own pocket! I'm now off on holidays for the next 3 months! Bye!!!!!!!!!!!
(Adaminho, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 21:34, Reply)

Hmm....
I shouldn't but i can't think of anything witty to say, could do with a new pair of shoes though?
( SkUG >_O i got a couple of stitches in my eyeball... ow, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 21:23, Reply)

Kennybumfish
You are right, it's actually Mr again now. Please don't mistake my lack of diligence with regards proof reading as evidence of charlatanism. I just don't care that much.

If you are looking for examples of more refined writing perhaps the FAQ might interest you.

BTW is it your job to dish out ID badges?
(Tarquin DLM wasting his life here, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:20, Reply)

Typical drunken fool at the xmas party
We all get drunk at the office party and regret things the next day, however I am still in my job, despite calling my immeadiate boss a fucking whore at the xmas dinner table.

I then vomited into my dinner and fell off my chair and had to be put in a cab home.

It was 9.15pm
(Eeevil You are losers, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:16, Reply)

I take the fifth.

( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:09, Reply)

I should be fired but im not
'cause Im smarter than a monkey and cheaper than a robot.


www.basicinstructions.net
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:06, Reply)

petrol station
I worked for a whole year in a Texaco petrol station in the arsehole of Airdrie, Scotland.

The money was shite. The job was shite. But I managed to more or less steal my dinner and also any fags/skins I needed 6 days a week for a year (and anything else I needed the garage sold i.e. the odd jazz mag).

So managed to save up most of wages to go back to Uni.
Thanks Texaco :)
(L.T. Smash Humungous fail since, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:03, Reply)

most of the objects in my house
at some point were in my place of work
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:02, Reply)

I was too honest in my quarterly review.
It's more of a "why should you have been fired from your job?", but I hope you'll forgive me.

I worked for a now-bankrupt part of the Public-Private Partnership responsible for cocking up London's Underground network. Let's call them Metro... Web.

It was a terrible, terrible place. Two floors of very high-up office tower were entirely devoted to creating files, counting files, pushing around files, amalgamating files and filing files on all the bits of the underground that didn't work: knackered bridges, tunnels about to cave in, rickety platforms, leaky sewers, loose rails... you get the picture. There were probably about 50 people devoted to this task, and around 30 000 files (yes, there are _that_ many problems with the underground infrastructure).

This was balanced by about 8 people whose actual job it was to get down the tunnels at night (when the tube stops running and they turn the power off), inspect said problems and oversee the repairs. They were horribly underpaid and seen by a lot of the office staff as the lowest rung on the ladder: after all they had to get their hands dirty. It was a classic management-heavy case of too many chiefs and not enough indians.

While at first I thought my job there was a cushy number - I was actually told to sit at my desk and try and look busy for my first week while they tried to think of something for me to do - after a while, it was truly awful. Morale was depressingly low; there's only so much bureaucracy a claustrophobic office can tolerate, even if it's self-generated. Any email or internet access was closely watched, even though there was painfully little else to do while at one's desk.

I tried: I came up with more efficient ways of dealing with reports, I actually read the files and started eliminating duplicates; I worked overtime to archive old files and I even found a way to more or less automate my given job by creating a couple of very fancy Excel files.

My first quarterly review finally came around, five months after I'd started working there. I was given a couple of sheets of paper with the usual banal "how have you progressed" questions and asked to scan them and email them to HR once done.

(Another example of how the place worked: HR was on the floor below, where they would print out my scanned, emailed forms and pore over them before giving them to a data entry clerk to read and type my responses into a spreadsheet.)

I was pretty fed up with working there, it had been a bad week and I rather foolishly gave some truthful answers to their questions. I described in a lot of detail how I'd contributed to the company while I worked there; I highlighted some areas in which I felt I needed training; I pinpointed parts of the department that could be improved - all well so far. Unfortunately I also let slip that I'd spent my first week trying to "look busy" and explained just how much of my day job was now completely automated by a self-written chunk of Visual Basic Excel geekery.

Two days later, when called to discuss my responses with a dense, cheap-suit-clad manager and two very humourless HR drones, I realised I'd shot myself in the foot. By the end of the meeting I knew I'd be leaving that day: I was asked what my favourite part of the job was and, after a long think while looking out of the window, I could only reply "the view."

I was told I was no longer required later that week.


Length? From the 34th floor, by my repeated, desperate calculations it would have taken about 3.9 seconds...
( sanityclause is waiting until, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:01, Reply)

*sigh* Impeccible timing on this QOTW.
I just got laid off- or, as they say over there, "made redundant".

I've been worried for about the past month or so, when I've had fuck-all to do at work, and spent a significant chunk of the day web surfing because no one had anything at all to work on. I took whatever CAD work they had (I'm an engineer, not a designer, so I really shouldn't be doing CAD work, according to them), I did research for them, did whatever they needed- but as every damn proposal they put out there seemed to disappear into a puff of smoke, they decided that they needed to cut staff.

They told me this at 2:15 on Thursday. By 2:30 they had my key, and I had all my stuff out of my desk and was standing in the parking lot.

CUNTS.

(Apologies for the lack of humor- but as I need to pay my mortgage this month and that will take me down to about two week's worth of food money, I'm just a bit scared and freaked out.)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 9 Aug 2007, 20:01, Reply)

I actually managed to be crap at my McDonalds job.
It got to the stage where the "trainee, please be patient" sign was stuck on my till for over 2 months.

Saw sign in window for clothes shop, left the next day. 2 months into that job, they tell me I'm excellent at my job.

So, paid more, less crappy, and I'm *good* at it. Can't lose there.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:59, Reply)

"Why didn't you turn up on Saturday?"
I woke up and it was Sunday. Sorry.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:56, Reply)

I get bored
Look by the till. weird ends of the desk, pens, papers, ahh... this one seems to be broken...

Quite happily playing with the little broken bit of the desk...

6pm police turn up.

"we've been getting alarms all day... is there a problem?"

Panic alarm. oops.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:55, Reply)

Why should I be fired from my job?
Hmm well, this is a hard one. At the small age of 19 I have only had two previous jobs. Both of which, I should have been fired from…

Job No.1 – Paperboy
Along my delivery route was the ‘Angry-Doggy House’. This ‘Angry-Doggy House’ was named as so for one fairly obvious reason. The lady who owned it, aged somewhere between 80 and 180, very frail and smells like public toilets (The male ones), had a HUGE doggy…You know, Yorkshire terrier kind of huge.

Now, I’m not the most confident around doggies as it is…I have a showcase of scars thanks to them…But normally I can cope. However! This doggy had an addiction to speed (I swear! It must have!) If I came within a 600 meter radius of the dog it would shoot towards me with a higher velocity than that of a fat kid who’s just seen the pie shop!

One day I was merrily (Grumbling, swearing, kicking over peoples dustbins) on my route when I saw the old lady. After having passed this lady almost every day the previous year, my natural reaction was to pull a paper out my bag and roll it up into some form of makeshift baton.

“Don’t worry I’ve got him on the lead today!” She said. I smiled politely, put the paper back in my bag and courteously said thanks. The dog was barking, growling and pulling as hard as it could (It was probably on steroids too) and blatantly wanted my leg for supper. I walked closer, as I had to pass this way anyway, and just as I got about 2 meters from the lady, she smiled her evil, sick and twisted grin.

“Oops” She smirked as she let go of the leash.

The dog chased me almost a mile down the road, a MILE!

That night, I was out with some of my friends, and we happened to be walking down that road. Having drunk ourselves silly on Coke (I was 14 at the time!) we all kind of needed a [Toilet / Bush / Stream *Delete as appropriate.] Well, I was feeling particularly vengeful due to almost loosing my leg earlier thanks to the psycho-granny. So I arranged a little ‘gift’.

One by one we stood in her front porch and urinated through her letterbox (^.^) I was kind of disappointed I hadn’t thought of taking us out for a Curry…

Job No.2 – Bakery (Shorter)
Any of you who have experienced the joy that is serving customers will understand my complete despise of all customers that feel the need to breathe…

Well one day I was feeling kind of angry as it was, and now I had to spend the rest of the day serving the insults to evolution, which were doing their best in forming what I presume was supposed to resemble, an ‘Orderly Queue’ out the door and most probably along the street.

After a couple of hours of serving the ‘Horde’, it was time for my break. I was tired, bored and angry. I slammed the door so hard that the whole shop went silent just in time to hear the light crash on the floor followed by a few not-so-well-chosen words as a piece of glass from the light impaled my little toe.

They said they would have fired me if only I hadn't handed in my resignation two days before (^.^) Gutted.
(Ducks go *Quack!*, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:44, Reply)

my MD had a word with me yesterday about the lack of work done.
it's not my fault, if there were sales coming in i'd be rushed off my fucking feet, they have given us a 'sales project' to do, cunts, i fucking hate sales, if i wanted to do sales i'd be in a fucking sales job with a nice big bonus structure, i really should be let go because there just isn't enough work for me.

i'm currently looking for something else, which my MD knows, so i think this is rubbing him up the wrong way as well.
( Thor_sonofodin has done things, terrible things on, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:42, Reply)

willeniums patented guide to shirking
throughout the work day:

1. arrival; don't arrive late! arrive on time but unprepared. for example arrive at 9 but spend the first 10 mins dressing/brushing teeth/sorting trough papers or tools you need to do your job. this is wasting the company's time but makes you look better than the johnny come lately.

2. tea up! no one can work without a cup of tea that's why you should make the entire workplace a cup of tea. having a tea break by your self is the actions of a shirker making everyone a morning cuppa delays work even further plus endears yourself to your boss and workmates at the same time. making a good cup of tea will stop any p45 in its tracks while at the same time prevent your workmates grassing you up when you get caught wanking over scat mpegs when your supposed to be in a meeting.

3. the two objects trick. take two objects (A and B) at opposite ends of your workplace. carrying object A stride purposely towards object B looking so busy (angry as hell) that no one will bother you. when you arrive swap the objects and repeat.

4. smoke breaks! pack in the fags and get on the rollies. not only will you save a shit load of money you shirk more; roll it sloooooooooowly then wander off to the furthest away open space before lighting it.


5. lunch time. if done properly steps one to four should have wasted the entire morning. Never bring your own lunch always go off site and make up an allergy. "sorry I took two hours boss the only place that does gluten free pizza was packed"


6.surviving the afternoon. after lunch your co workers may attempt to shirk too. these ametures may be tempted to do obvious things like hide in the toilets and stationary cupboard. your boss will be on alert for these activity's so be on high alert.

7. act like your working by actually working....on other things. do your taxes/pay your bills/read your mail/ cook for the evening . these all are all made far more fun by doing them on company time by having the added bonus of freeing up valuable weekend time.

8.hide, while your boss chews out the gormless fool who hid in the copy room you will have befriended people from other departments allowing you to hang out in places your boss will never go.

9.leave early. five minutes early will look bad, so leave an hour early. leave your workstation in a mess and tell people your going to get some object that you need to do your job. Sneak out the back to freedom.

general tips.
don't risk getting caught surfing the net on the company computer bring a laptop in and use its wireless connection whilst sttting in a toilet cubicle.

always use a toilet on another floor if possible to maximise time away from work.

b3ta.com

only charge your phone/game boy/pda from work plug sockets

steal like its going out of fashion!

whine whenever someone asks you to do something they wont ask again
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:24, Reply)

Not the best...
...but possibly the most recent.

My meeting in Brighton this morning (I work in London) consisted of me sitting on the beach eating fish and chips in the lovely sunshine.
(geekboy Hillbilly., Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:24, Reply)

ah, the joys of the night shift
Not doing any work is great but to liven up the boring 12 hour shift we...

played death metal cd's at ear splitting volumes at one end of the factory and Status Quo at the other

broke through the polystyrene ceiling of the office and stole the secretary's birthday cake

played hyper velocity cricket in the alleyways of the warehouse

spied on a scuffy middle-aged spastic having a wank in the toilet

this b3ta.com/questions/goingtoofar/post65669/

convinced our foreman to sleep off his big drink in the nurses office

Organized a mass walkout, 30+ people hiding behind the fire exit and laughing like kids when the boss wondered where we went

smoked lots of drugs

eventually I got tired of the long nights and took about 7 months off sick. I was essentially let go but "kept on the books" in case I ever wanted to return, so imagine my surprise when the company went under and I got a massive redundancy, including unpaid wages for every day of the 7 months and shift bonuses.

I went on holiday :D
(Suddenly, zebras Safe and sound for eternity, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:22, Reply)

I
used to pack spinach for all the major super markets.

One day I was very bored, so had a wank on the shop floor.

After the deed was done, what could I wipe myself off with. Well spinach of course.

And off it went to the shops.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:21, Reply)