How I Quit My Job
Read some creative job resignation stories from real employees.
Wincor-Nixdorf - Field Service TechnicianI have been in the Field Service industry since 1985 and have worked repairing banking machines since 1991. The best way to sum up my almost 3 years with Wincor-Nixdorf is to label my employment as democratized slavery; well paid slavery, with good benefits, but slavery nonetheless.
This German based company is entirely statistic driven. This must translate, at the field service level, into ânumberâ manipulation in order to keep your job. The âgoodâ technicians, the ones who have been with Wincor the longest, have learned how to under-deliver their service in order to keep their ânumbersâ looking good. So, if you are conscientious you will find yourself feeling frustrated every day for having to reconcile your conscience with what you will discover you will have to do to keep those statistics good enough to satisfy a faceless management that is just as ready to cull you out as they were to hire you.
Upper management makes decisions from expediency, usually in response to clients laying claim to the contractual fines Wincor must pay for poor service. This results in many, literally, stupid situations that waste time and generate indecisiveness and frustration as the dispatchers and technicians try to keep the promises management made while keeping their ânumbersâ looking good enough to keep their jobs.
Driving is tracked by GPS and every phone call to the company is recorded and reviewed. Your reported travel and work times are scrutinized for âerrorsâ in an ongoing effort to extract, â100% efficiencyâ from each technician. The laptop and âSmart Phoneâ programs they give you to run their diagnostic programs and debrief your work tickets are conflicting and unreliable, as is the added level of security that must be slogged through each day to accomplish any task. This generates additional frustrations for the many minutes that are lost each day because of these poorly integrated programs and the poorly conceived network that connects everything; minutes that count against you when your statistics are reviewed.
The scheduling of work times is unreliable and the work schedules themselves are grueling. There were many times when I worked 7-10 days in a row with shift changes in the middle that would only gave me 4 or 5 hours to sleep. Later, because this abuse cost them many longtime technicians in a short time span, they provided 2 consecutive days off, but those days rotate through the weeks so they can squeeze out an extra day of work out of a seven day cycle. This is in addition to sudden schedule changes that turned scheduled days off I had made plans for into days I was expected to work. No recourse was available and complaints were ignored. Many times my request for PTO was denied a few days before the requested date, despite a constant stream of e-mail reminders, leaving me with unfulfilled promises and missed life-events.
Additionally, to be considered a âgoodâ employee you are expected to be âin travelâ one-half early each day, without pay and remove on-half hour each day in your travel time home. Also, without the company actually declaring it as a requirement, âgoodâ technicians are expected to volunteer to work more than the mandatory overtime of a 10 hour day (12-14 hour days were the norm), come in on your days off and travel to other cities to cover for fired, quitting or vacationing technicians.
It was revealed once, during a weekly conference call, that upper management knew that most of their big-city technicians were 120% to 130% over-utilized (how could they not know, given the statistics they monitor). Managementsâ response to this was not to hire more technicians, but to push the lower managers to make the âlazyâ technicians work faster.
Now you know why I wanted to quit and here's how I 'quit': I made them let me go!
Once, in an effort to boost the level of service they were providing because the service had gotten so poor that their clients were bitterly complaining about the âdowntimeâ of their ATMâs, they gave all of their technicians a document to sign saying that we would leave every ATM in a, âlike new conditionâ. I began doing this and of course my ârepair timeâ statistic suffered, though all of my other ânumbersâ remained good exactly because of the conscientious service I gave. As anticipated, when my review came, my numbers were not good enough and I was culled out, with severance pay, because they could not fire me for anything wrong I was doing despite my being, statistically, a âlazyâ technician.
If you are a conscienceless company man, a loner who likes very little interaction with co-workers, apart from the constant drama associated with frustration, are unmarried or in a bad marriage and you have no children to raise, no friends to do things with and no one to celebrate holidays with and want lots of money that you have no time or energy to spend, then Wincor-Nixdorf has the job for you.Read 1 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by walking by on 10/04/2013:
It feels good to have escapedLast week I had coffee with an ex colleague who is still working for the large global organisation I worked at for 5 years. She is returning to work after maternity leave and already her anxiety levels are high. I left the same company in June 2012 and can honestly say I think it was the best decision I ever made. I'm now a mature student (hence the handle), taking the time to reconsider my options while I expand my mind. I question why it took me so long to leave a situation that made me so unhappy and destroyed my confidence? Money etc. aside, it was more than that, what stopped me? And also, why do people stay in organisations that make them so unhappy? Read 1 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by tired of jerks at work on 02/08/2013:
flammable place of workI worked at this place that used kerosene for rust proofing parts at the machines I tried to tell the owner my throat was getting irritated from the fumes around the shop
who in there right mind uses flammable stuff like almost gas to rust proof parts and then the worst of it the workers would have to blow the excess for packaging.. this place if you were 1 minute late bamm you were warned on paper after 3 times bamm your going to take time off...but not on your terms..
I packed my stuff and left the place was a disaster yet they glorified like it was the best place to work.
kind of figures these people had no clue how to treat other people.. even the supervisor quit shortly after I walked out.. I still remember KEROSENE cannot believe a place would use that.. it would go up in flames...I should have called OSHA then.. I was not smart enough.. but then OSHA can get sucked up to also..the place was a cave Read 2 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by Anon on 02/05/2012:
Madonna was right. I done did "Hung Up" on you!We had orientation this one day and I did not finish a test not knowing it would be collected. Our job never collected it before so I didn't bother finishing it. I get word that at the next orientation, they wanted to talk to me about it, so I was OK with it and I would talk to them and explain to them why it wasn't completed.
I go to the next orientation and the next thing I know, they were accusing me of screaming at the previous orientation about rat shit being all over the kitchen. That's when I was like what? I came in there thinking that I was going to be fussed at over a test and the next thing I know, they pull this rat shit story clear out of left field and I kept telling them that I did not say it. Then they kept saying that they have 8 people claiming they heard me, but they couldn't give any names. Thank god I kept sticking to my story and told them that I did not say it. I walked out of the meeting the whole time going off on one of my bosses telling them how dare he accuse me of saying something that I didn't. I go home furious. I'm contemplating quitting, something was telling me to wait before sending me the resignation letter.
I go to the supermarket the next day and ran into one of my coworkers and I told her that I will not be returning to the job because I told her the whole story about how I was accused of yelling something about rat shit when I didn't. I went to that meeting thinking I was there for a test and next thing I know they were accusing me of something else. She was sitting in at the same orientation I was and was near me the whole time. She was so stunned and her first reaction was "What?". She then asked me if they were playing with me and I told her that my boss was dead serious. She even said that I did not say anything about no rat shit. At this point now I am upset, but also happy that I did not admit to any guilt.
I go home and start typing up my resignation email. The gist of it was that I did not appreciate them accusing me of saying something I didn't and I myself have my own and legitimate witness. You can take the job and give it to the next idiot that walks up in there. I tell them do not call me, email me, or communicate with me in any form because I done did blocked them.
Here's where it gets crazy. As soon as I send it off, I noticed that these strange cars were driving by the house and was stopping in front of my house or in front of my neighbors house. I finally had the last straw and decided to peak out in front to see who it was. It was one of the managers from my job watching the house, but he wasn't stupid enough to use his car in case I call the police on him and run the plates. He drove off soon after and the drive-by's stopped.
Then my supervisor from my old job kept calling me to the point where I had to block her. Our boss was having her call me for whatever idiotic reason after I told them I quit. I even had to change my number because of it because after I blocked them, they changed their phone number so they could get around the block.
I started my new job and just so happened I ran into a few additional old coworkers and they asked me why I quit. I told them what happened and they were all in agreement that I did not say anything about rat poo. They were there too. They also told me that they were extremely desperate to get me to come back because when I quit, they were screwing my food up so badly and could not keep up with the workload. They also now realized that I was right about what I was telling them and that I did not say what they were accusing me of saying. They knew they f'ed up royally. I told them I am not stupid enough to go back and I am happier at the place I am at now. I told them also that the only reason why they need me back is because I'm an extra body and they will never fully apologize for what they did. They sure enough never did apologize.Read 2 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by frogleghorn on 08/01/2011:
The craziest job aroundI worked at a debt collection lawfirm for 4 years.
When I first started I was about 19 years old and I was very exicted to have an office job where I could sit at a desk and do paper work all day. The jobs I had before that were all manual labor and a lot of walking and standing.
Being the excited go getter I was, I worked extra hard doing any tedious or difficult task I could ask for. Everyone liked me and I went home with a feeling of satisfaction. The boss told me after all, that if I quit going to school for the nursing program I was in, the company would PAY for me to go to college to get a degree to further me in my career! It couldn't get any better.
Now part of the reason it was easy for me to rise above and be so energetic and hopeful, was because most of the people who worked there were slackers. They spent a whole lot of time on the internet basically doing nothing but answering phone calls, and finding ways to push their work onto others. There was a guy and another girl hired into what became our own little team and the guy was just plain lazy. He was always messing up and finding ways to get out of doing anything to the point where the supervisors started to notice. The problem was, they came at all three of us when he screwed up even when he made specific mistakes that were of his own doing....all three of us would have to sit in on at least 3 monthly meetings where we would have to listen to a lecture about 'not stapling a paper correctly' or 'taking less breaks'
Knowing I didn't do those things I'd try to talk to the supervisor afterward and ask her if I was doing something wrong becase to my knowledge I wasn't doing any of the things mentioned in the meeting, but she winked at me and said 'I think we all know who that meeting was for'
After so many times it started to get annoying and I began to despise the lazy bum because I was sick of listening to griping about stuff he did wrong and having to fix his mistakes and listen to the supervisors call us all out on them.
About two years into the job, things started getting really busy because business was growing. I'd like to think me and another coworker were largely responsible for that shift since we were always staying late, working very hard, and thinking of ideas that saved time and money. We always got excellent reviews and large raises.
Then the third year we didn't get a raise at all. And the work was piling up. Business and money for the company was better than ever. I was bummed about not getting the raise. We slowly but surely started losing our motivation. The problems the lazy guy who was supposed to be our 'team member' began to fester and I started to notice a lot of things that were bothering me about the job.
First of all, they drank on the job and were encouraged by the owner to do so. Secondly, they were very sexually explicit, sometimes employees would be seen wearing a penis mask on their face asking me and fellow coworkers if they'd like to sit on their face.
Really it was sickening and bothersome, but when HR and managers are seeing people do this stuff and laughing with about it, who can you go to in order to report it?
So third year is coming up, professinalism is seriously low, and morale even lower.
Had to beg to get a yearly Christmas bonus.
The bosses son was hired and was supposed to take on some of our workload but instead he took insanely long lunch breaks and put so much stress on me because I was constantly covering for his assignments and losing time on my own work. I was behind, I hated my job, the sexual harassment was getting out of hand. I could go on and on. But basically it was a hostile, drunken, crazy work environment. My supervisor obviously didn't care that the bosses son did nothing and every time I tried to mention something she said she'd take care of it but she never did. They messed up my tax return causing me to have to re file...blah blah blah.
So I was mad. And one day I did an hour of the bosses son's work (I had to do it even if I didn't want to in order to continue my assignment)and another lady came barging over demanding her 100 papers that obviously I didn't have time to finish because I was completing the rest of the bosses son's work. And that was it. I just upped and walked out. I'd had enough. I wanted to go back to school and finish my career in health care, and I regret the time I wasted on these losers, but all in all it will be great experience for me. I did try to talk to my supervisor before I'd left the building and told her I was very stressed and could no longer complete other people's assignments when I was getting behind on my work and they needed to tell him to do his own work.
Her reply was 'If you're suffering so much why don't you just leave'
I think she was bluffing because after that she called herself a 'bad boss' and said she 'felt bad'
I don't know what they'll do without me.
I had some money saved up and it was just the right time.
I am scared because I've never been without a job since I was 16, but this was the wrong career path for me and I just got mixed in with the wrong crowd and did way too much.
I will know never to freely take on other people's assignments in the future (not be a pushover or too much of an overachiever) and I will not ignore multiple red flags that pop up from day one.
And I'm excited to go back to school, work part time and finish where I started.Read 2 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by Wage Slave on 01/28/2011:
You Said I'm What? Five years ago, I took a job as an Executive Secretary at a large healthcare organization. At first, I was enthusiastic about learning a new job and maybe meeting new people, but as time went on, I could detect that the people who I worked with weren't the same type of people I had known at my previous jobs. I was fortunate to have worked with people who supported me, and many of the people I have worked with have remained good friends to this day. For starters, and I found out this later, that when I came on board, people were gunning for me to fail, because they didn't think I could fill the shoes of the woman who previously occupied the Executive Secretary job.
Then, and I know this is going to sound hard to believe, but, in my previous jobs, I almost never, if ever, heard woman drop the F or C bomb in the workplace. Then there was Ann. Her real name has been concealed to protect the not so innocent. She was the secretary across the hall whose door was eight feet away from mine. My department and her department were supposed to work closely together. Whenever I tried to talk to her about work, or become friendly, she would give me a downward stare, or a short, curt answer. But, I tried to remain professional and not go carnival freak crazy on her. In the five years I worked there, Ann never once, ever, darkened my doorway to socialize. I managed to get one Merry Christmas out of her. I was working there when she had her son. Prior to his birth, she had a baby shower and invited many co-workers. Take three guesses, and the first two don't count who didn't get invited to the baby shower. She didn't even give me a chance to share in her joy of having the baby she always wanted.
I began to get depressed, burnt out, and extremely disillusioned. For the most part, the work was boring, the people were mean, and I guess I didn't feel like giving the 150% they wanted out of me. But I did do my job and from what people were telling me, I was doing a good job. I had many years in the workforce, I had a college degree, and I had a part-time job writing feature articles for the local newspapers.
I knew I wasn't fitting in, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I kept on applying for positions I wasn't getting called for.
Then, on the morning of my and my husband's sixth wedding anniversary, a Friday, I received my yearly evaluation from the Administrator and Assistant Administrator of the facility I worked in. My work was rated overall not competent along with a list of improvements to make, and goals to meet within a 30-day period or face possible termination.
If a meteor crashed into the building, or if Madonna, Derek Jeter, Michelle Obama or Snookie walked into my office at that moment, I would have been less shocked. I acted like nothing was wrong while my boss was going over the evaluation. I took half the day off. I went home and cried. My husband and I tried to have a nice anniversary dinner. Knowing full well what I had to do, and being completely aware of the present economic climate, I went in to my office on a Sunday morning, packed my stuff up handed in my badge, unsigned evaluation, and resignation letter. To top it off, I tried to collect unemployment, and that was turned down. I knew that job and the atmosphere wasn't right from the start. If anyone learns anything from this story, please let it be go with your first instinct. If it doesn't feel right at the interview, you are more than likely right. Read 4 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by labtech on 08/17/2010:
Never work here. Im warning you. I've only been working at applebees for about a week now as a Hostess. Why do I want to quit? many reasons one being I never know when I get off till they tell me like a slave that I can leave. Oh did I mention I am 16 years old and I have yet to obtain my provisional license, which means I have to sit outside or walk over to target till my mom comes to get me like 20 minutes later. Yes I do get paid but its too much work for that little bit of money. My daily tasks include: Greeting guests and seating them at a table, bus tables, sweep, run food to tables, take drink orders, and clean the bathrooms! Maybe that doesn't sound like much to you but trust me it is. Hosts have to seat people in a certain section or the servers get pissed because they have to many tables,or not enough tables. It is tough going back and forth from the kitchen, to tables, to the foyer. Oh and the manager, lets just say he says rude things to the Hostess's. No he has never said anything to me yet. But if he ever does I will quit on the spot. I won't even put in my two weeks. So take my advice and do not work at Applebees. Read 8 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by econobiker on 08/13/2010:
Fed up with concrete I worked for large ready mix company, driving a mixer. It seemed the people in dispatch had it out for me, making me come in early, and leave late. I also had to do all the maintenance on the truck because the mechanics were far too busy screwing around. At the end of one particularly long week, they sent me to a job at a different plant. They decided that I should haul the last load, skipping over three other drivers from that plant. After getting half unloaded, the customer had enough concrete. I shut the truck off, took the keys, and threw them in the barrel, letting them sink into the concrete. The extra key was well over an hour away. Add a Reply
What You Didn't Want to Know About Your Local Pizza PlaceBy the age of 19 I had already acquired a long list of previous employers. There was McDonaldâs, where I grilled burgers in the back with all the illegal immigrants. Management must have thought I was not presentable enough to work the front with all the other English speaking teenagers. There was the telecommunications center where I answered phones calls and placed catalog orders. This proved to be an embarrassing task for a 16-year-old whose voiced had yet to change. At the end of every phone call the customer would politely say, âThanks Maâam youâve been very helpful.â After about the 6th or 7th time I stopped correcting them. There was Home Depot, where I stole enough lumber to build a quarter pipe in my friend Peters backyard. There was Hollywood Video where my co-worker set up a fake account using the name of Smokey McPot, under which we rented many a dvd with no intention of returning. There was the frame shop that fired me for being too slow. There was the hair salon that fired me for not being friendly enough. And then, finally, there was Vincenzoâs.
Vincenzoâs was a local pizza place that decorated its floors with peanut shells discarded by customers. They were home of the 28 inch, 45 dollar, âFeeds your entire little league baseball teamâ pizza. If you went there on a Saturday night in 2003 you would find a bunch of middle aged overweight adults, small children, and one table full of 20-year-olds drinking excessively. For a 19/20-year-old with no fake I.d. it was a dream job. They had 4 tapped kegs filled with assorted beers that were never accounted for. Meaning one could grab a big stein and fill himself a mug of beer without the owner knowing. Or, one could pour himself several mugs of beer throughout the course of a couple hours without the owner knowing. One could even call 15 of his closest friends and invite them all to come join him in filling several mugs of beer throughout the course of a couple hours. Thus we had a weekly routine.
Saturday night was karaoke. A morbidly obese woman would set up her equipment in the corner and then abuse the small authority she had. Although it was in the book, we were told we could not sing the song âTurning Japaneseâ by the Vapors because of itâs sexual undertones. There was only one of us who really ever sang. Except for the embarrassing night we all got into a karaoke battle with a group of Junior High girls and lost horribly. I was working and fortunately did not participate in this. An awkward group of about 8 guys half singing, half mumbling the words to âFriends in Low Placesâ was no match for a bubbly enthusiastic group of 12-year-old girls screaming âGirls Just Want to Have Funâ. They even had dance moves to go with it. It was like they were a traveling group of hustlers, going from restaurant to restaurant insidiously waiting for a karaoke challenge to be declared. The prize was a free pitcher of beer, which was actually kind of meaningless to both groups, but they ended up giving it to our table seeing as they could not legally enjoy it and their coaches werenât interested.
The only one who ever got behind the microphone outside of this incident was Ryan Bradshaw. Sometimes it was Madonna, sometimes it was Prince, sometimes it was Tracy Chapman, but most of the time it was Tommy Tutone. What he lacked in actual talent or singing ability, he made up for in stage presence and showmanship. He would quickly finish whatever was left in his glass and take a stage that was just occupied by a 4-year-old girl singing the lyrics to âTwinkle Twinkle Little Starâ. Heâd Shout out a âHeyâ that cued the song and would then start moving his hands and fingers around in a way that made it look like he was playing a guitar made out of air. âJenny! Jenny! Who can I turn to!?â would be heard by all through the speakers, commanding the attention of everyone in the restaurant. The karaoke lady learned later that she needed to turn down his mic before he went up. He would mix up the tone and sound of his voice, sometimes almost whispering, then bursting back into a rock star scream when the chorus came on. He would improvise the lyrics of a song to fit the current situation. 867 5309 would be replaced with 368 2319. Jenny was now Stacey, the girl he met a few weeks ago and was trying to bang. Once finished, he would leave the stage in the same timid and shy manner that he approached it. All that remained was a room full of confused, irritated faces, and me, gasping for air, crying with laughter.
The place closed at 10 or 11, depending on the night of the week and the amount of customers there. This meant that after 10 or 11, we could continue our merry making without the annoyance of small children running around or old people interrupting our conversations. Since this seemed to be a more serious offense, promising to close down the restaurant and lock everything up, but instead party until the early morning hours, we reserved these nights for rare and special occasions. Like say, Norman Falangyâs 21st birthday. After going out to sushi and ringing up a $150 dollar tab, we decided that this whole âbuying your drinksâ thing wasnât all that great. Instead we could open up Vincenzoâs and booze it up for free. This ended with Norman throwing up. It was loud, it was long, and it was all over the floor. Being all fairly drunk ourselves, nobody wanted the responsibility of cleaning up this mess. Instead we swept it under a table and threw peanut shells over it. The next day at work, a family of 5 requested to change booths, complaining that there was a foul stench of vomit coming from underneath their table.
I worked there as a driver, and I learned that in delivery, one encounters certain tipping problems that a server would never have. For example there was what I called the âGive me a dollar backâ guy. This was the customer who had already decided in his head that he was going to give a two dollar tip. So when Iâd tell him itâs $16.96 he would hand me a 20 and then look upwards as he laboriously tried to run the math in his head. One Mississippi. . . . Two Mississippi . . . Three Missi â âJust give me a dollar back man.â Heâd finally reply. I would then imagine him doing this inside a restaurant accompanied by a date. Both of them have their coats on, sheâs rapping her fingers on the to-go box as they wait diligently for the waitress to return with his dollar.
Another problem I got frequently was what I called the â Sorry I donât have enough cash for a tip but I can smoke you a bowl bro!â guy. This surprisingly happened a lot, perhaps because of my age and appearance. I found it irritating because I did not smoke weed, and if I did, I donât think I would have wanted to right before I had to drive around town at night trying to find houses.
The best was the â Leave whatever tip you would likeâ guy. This was the customer that paid for their order over the phone by credit card, then signed the receipt but failed to mark a zero or an X through the tip line. Thus allowing me to give myself what I felt to be a more satisfactory tip. Often times they would just give you cash. The amount I later filled out on the receipt would be relative to how much they gave me, how polite they were, and how far I had to drive. To stay under the radar I never made it more than 5 dollars.
As you can imagine the job takes itâs toll on your car. My Dad was nice enough to let me drive his 91 Toyota Corolla, which was much more fuel efficient than the 94 Ford Ranger I owned. I showed my gratitude for this by totaling his car. I know what youâre thinking, and no I wasnât drunk. Trying to read the numbers of an address on a small receipt under the dim light provided by my cell phone, I ran a stop sign and was struck by a Porsche going about 40 mph. In the lane next to this car was a Cadillac Escalade. Had I been a second sooner I might not be here to write this blog. My car spun a full 360 degrees and I was then covered in shattered glass. A man ran to my window and asked me if I was OK. I said âI think soâ and he instructed me to stay inside the car until an ambulance arrives, as I might possibly have a concussion. Hearing this advice I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and sprung out the window.
My first thought was âI just had a near death experience. . . I am going to get some major sex from my girlfriend tonight!â But first I needed to make some phone calls. I dialed my friend and co-worker Dustin Helvig. âHey um, I just got in an accident. . Iâm fine and everything . . totally cool man. . itâs totally cool. . but um . . I dooonnât think Iâm going to be able to deliver the rest of these pizzas dude you might need to help me out.â Expecting a moderate fender bender, he was quite shocked to see the mangled remains of what used to be my fathers car. My arms and face were bloodied from the shattered pieces of glass left by my window. The driver of the Porsche was being carried into an ambulance on a stretcher. We opened up the trunk and it never occurred to me that the pizzas might not be in the same condition they were in when I left the restaurant. It looked like someone spray painted the walls with a coat of melted cheese and spaghetti sauce. Crumbled pieces of white and red checkered cardboard were scattered about. It was impossible to tell they were once a flat square shape that could hold a pizza. â I think weâre going to have to replace the orderâ Dustin suggested.
Eventually we all turned 21. The free beer was great, donât get me wrong, but the obese 50 year olds accompanied by their autistic children singing the Backstreet Boys was not the prime setting for partying. We found better places to go to with the compromise of having to actually pay for our drinks. It was a slow change at first but eventually I stopped asking if we were meeting at Vincenzoâs and just started showing up at T.G.I.Fridays where I knew everyone would be.
to read more stories visit my blog at www.ourthursday.comRead 4 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by BonusOnus on 08/07/2010:
i quit culvers!I worked at culvers for about 3 years, i absolutely hated the place dreaded going to work every day, one day i got a job at discount tire (cars are my passion) and i was scheduled to work 11 to close on saturday (culvers busiest day) so its 12 noon, i call culvers and say F*** OFF I QUIT.Read 1 Replies | Add a ReplyUser Feedback:Close Replies
Posted by Diana on 12/05/2009: