Why should you be fired from your job?
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
I spent three years "working" in the Ministry of Agriculture carefully crafting projectiles out of folded paper and drawing pins that I would then fire at colleagues with an elastic band. On discovering I'd been conducting all-out warfare when I should really have been in a field counting cows, I was asked to "reconsider my career options" outside the service.
Why, then, should you be fired from your job?
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 13:04)
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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.
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:44, Reply)
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.
( , Thu 9 Aug 2007, 19:44, Reply)
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