hate your job?

[mustynutz]

Crazy Joe and the Gang (96 hits)
Category: Humor -> Dumb Jobs

Rating: 1.4 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (View all ratings)
Submitted by <amynicole30.at.sbcglobal.net> (View user info) at 2004-07-17 01:04:55


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Alright so I was at work tonight and I'm already pissed off because, ya know, I'm at work. I work at this 50's burger joint. My aunt owns it, so I figured, eh why the fuck not. That was my first mistake. Along with the long hours, no money, and bitchy co-workers...I get the most fucked up customers. I didnt think people like this actually existed. Keep in mind, some of these people are regulars...but they all decided to come in within the time peirod of my shift tonight. Let me introduce you to this classy bunch.

Woman #1: (also known as 300lb complaining bitch) - No matter what the fuck she orders she always has a complaint. This sauce is too hot. The soup had an odd spice. I'm 50 years old, 300lbs, losing my hair and I have nothing else to do in life but bitch and eat...blah blah blah. Did I mention she has psychotic body odor? Bitch, if you complain everytime you come in, then GO SOMEHWERE ELSE! Have mercy on me and take your ass out the door and don't look back.

Crazy Joe: (also known as "the talker") - This guy. I understand that when you get old, you get a little insane...but I can't understand this guy. Something is seriously jacked up in his silly little head. He talks and talks and talks. Never shuts up. Talks to me, talks to the customers, talks to himself. And let me tell you...some weird ass conversations come out when he talks to himself. I used to find it amusing, until one time he had a conversation with himself about how he cut up his daughter and hid her in the radiator. I fear for my life now...and he always orders a ribeye steak, rare. Coincidence? I think not.

Woman #2: (also known as "the crusty ice queen") - I think this lady is a grandma or something. She always comes in and orders a kids hamburger to go. Or maybe she has a small appetite. hmmmm either way, its no excuse for her terrifying appearance. She is about 5'4, 200lbs, approx. 65 years of age. She has grey hair teased so high, it amazes me she doesn't have to duck to get in the building. She looks like she was frozen in the 60's and awoke now. I say this because not only is her hair 60's style, but so is her make-up and clothes. Also, her entire face is chapped and the shin is peeling...I dont want to think why. I just imagine that it was caused by the ice when they froze her. It lets me sleep at night. Aside from that, shes a pleasant woman. I hope she made friends in this era.

Greek Man: (also known as "the cheap hornball") - This fellow needs a hooker and a more money. He comes in and for some god awful reason, he finds it necessary to call me "baby doll." Not just once or twice but after every damn sentence. He's this old, greasy man with lots of jewlery and lots of cologne and a crazed look in his eye like he wants in my pants. He also complains about all the prices and makes me ring things up 3 or 4 times because hes sure I'm charging him too much. He asked me for my number tonight. Sorry Uncle Creeptard, I dont fuck men who are old enough to have fought in the first world war. Try me in another life. Thanks. Also, you smell like a dead cat mixed with after shave. Do the world a favor and get that taken care of. please.

and last but not least...

Philip the Loon (also known as "the smacker") - I thought Crazy Joe was bad...I was wrong. I just encountered Philip tonight. I have heard the tales. A part of me believed it was just my older co-workers making up stories to scare me. I was a foolish child. This guy...holy shit. Thats all I have to say. He came in, ordered a shake, drank it, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of himself. I'm talking kicking his own ass. First he started pulling on his ears and screaming on the top of his lungs. Then he whipped his head about 7 times into the table yelling "Bad Philip! Bad Philip!." Then after that he started slapping himself yelling something about how he didnt feed his plant. I thought I was going to piss myself. It was the funniest shit I ever saw. After he was done, he went into the bathroom for A HALF HOUR! screaming and kicking...locked himself in. When he came out, he was about to leave. He's headed for the door, stops, turns and faces the restaurant and yells "Vote Nixon!!" and he fucking punches himself in the face!!!! laughs, and runs out the door!!!!!!! Sweet mother of a bald head, I lost it. I seriosuly had to sit down I was laughing so hard. He's definitely my favorite. All the others can fuck themselves...Philip is my hero.

 

[mustynutz]

i work with one close friend, and thank god for that, i think that we are the only sane people in this place..

my first week of work, i thought i was going to die.. i was not warned about the psycho guy that mutters things about his "hit list" and how he's going to kill people... i end up getting sat in the cubicle across from him and he befriends me.. well i mean, after i heard him talking like that and hearing all of the stories about him while he is out on lunch break, i did not want to be on his bad side, and definately did not want to be on his "list".. which he told me that he conviently hung right up on his refridgerator door.. what a psycho.. let's dub him as "rainman".. he has some odd resemblance... it fits...

by now, all the colors have shown.. and nicknames have been placed... as they come and make an impression on us, we nickname them accordlingly, and it has usually been a weird/crazy/psycho type of impression...

there is this one guy that we consider to be pretty normal.. he's just a comedian, we've told him our nicknames, and he found it funny that we had secret jokes about everyone...

there is "the rocker".. this one sits there all day rocking back and forth.. i had to sit by him for a little while, when my computer was being fixed.. do you know how anoying it is to have something constantly moving like that out of the corner of your eye?? let me tell you.. VERY!! the other day his chair was squeaking, i thought my friend was going to throw a stapler at him.. the comedian told me once that the rocker has a gas problem that he is apparently very open about, thats SICK! and the comedian thinks that maybe that has something to do w/ his rocking.. i think its a mental thing.. either idea works, maybe its both.... we think he needs a fully padded cubicle or something..

and now we have "Charlene the Queen"... and no her name isn't charlene.. but thats close enough, since she cant ever remember me from my friend, we are determined to refer to her as something else so often that eventually we'll slip and call her the wrong name, oh so innocently.. haa... but shes just a beotch.. hates the world.. definately hates me and my friend.. we don't care.. the only one she likes is the one shes having an affair with.. the white trash guy..

(side note - OMG the rocker is singing.. ahh make it stop! he has got the be the biggest dweeb i've ever met.. full out glasses and pocket protector.. and his voice is cracking..)

and i just received a message on the computer from my friend- Char Char just told the boss that there was a box of files for "her" and pointed at my friend.. see what i mean.. charlene is a freakin bitch man! who says that?!?

now back to the psychos... Mr. white trash, Charlene's boyfriend, who has a new wife and a newborn at home... looking at him makes me annoyed.. i tried to befriend him when i first came here.. my friend was out for the day, i thought i'd be nice, show him a funny website a guy friend of mine had shown me.. it was a guy type of website that he would enjoy.. yea well he must think i go there all the time now or something, because the other day he asked me if i had seen the new toon?! then has me bring up the website that i've since forgotten about, as he narrates the whole thing as the characters are saying it, which is one of those insanely annoying qualities i try to avoid in people i associate with... then he talks about it afterwards, referring to the toon type characters as if they are actual people.. i almost peed my pants listening to him talk about them as if they were his close friends... which ones are "soo funny" and "think of the funniest things to say"... they are cartoons!! they dont "think" !!

these are the main characters here of the office place.. but there are also supporting characters, like the weasel, Mr. MoodSwing (who sits between my friend and I), etc... and how could i forget, "the gigalo"... yea- today was the start of no ties for summer, well he's got his full out black pin striped shirt on, its unbuttoned like a freakin PIMP.. all he needs is a big "iced-out" chain around his neck, and some brillo pad chest hair sticking out of his shirt..

well rainman, he has been upset ever since he heard that there was an age limit on the american idol show.. he knows "everything" about music.. the comedian quizzes him on it all the time, when we're listening to music, and he gets all into it, all serious, "dont tell me, dont tell me, i know it.." he said that he heard there is going to be an american idol show for older people, and he'll have his plane ticket out there that very day when they do.. maybe you'll see him someday.. and until then he can spend his weekends at some karoke bar he always tells us about.. i bet he steals the show there.. (i should add that i've since decided that he's gotten better, they pick on him less, and he mentions odd and crazy things less often, which i'm thankful for)

the rocker, now he is a KNOW IT ALL.. expert on everything from minor surgeries and politics, to cars and mountain hiking.. he's a bird classifier extrodinare- everytime a bird goes by the window he's classifying it and making its bird noises - dude, what do you do, sit at home and memorize bird books?! today i had a banana sitting on my desk for lunch.. and he tells me that he likes his bananas basically unripe.. sweet, thanks for the info, like i care how you eat your bananas.. then he tells me how he has one in his refrigerator and forgot to bring it to work today.. aww, how special, we both almost had bananas for lunch.. but i mentioned to him, bananas turn ripe and brown in a refrigerator, why would you put it in there if you like it practically green?!? *that is a valid question* welll.. mr.know it all, he "seemed to realize that his bananas ironically got more ripe when NOT in the refrigerator" well i guess his bananas are "the" exception then, either that or he lives in a freakin igloo, using his refrigerator as a warming device...

so there it is, all i have to say right now.. this place is an insane asylum.. there should be straight jackets and tranquillizers in the supply closet if you ask me..

**lastly, but not least.. my boss just called the rainman a "snack machine connoisseur" as he corrected him on the exact name of a cheese doodle snack in the cafeteria's machine.. then he reminded my boss that he knows which snack food is his favorite.. i told you that there was a resemblance to Rainman....

 

[RIX]

where tha fuck do u live???????? yo man people are fucked up i worked at a dennys i seen similar shit man

 

[Prozac1]

LOL, my female co-worker just farted. SHe was like , IM GONNA FART SO WATCH out! i thought she was bull shitting because im new, not pretty

 

[mustynutz]

think it's time for me to move on from my job. for the past two years i have been employed through a fortune 500 company. through these past two years, my hard work and diligence has led me to an office with a window and a secure hold on the lower ledges of the payroll. by office i mean cubicle shanty and window i mean computer, accessed with the internet. by lower ledges of the payscale, after taxes i make enough to eat ramen and easy mac.

my duties at work include answering customer complaints and registering them into a database that allows the company to better its profits, by catering to those complaints that justify a response. for the past two years i have found myself growing more and more apathetic to the churning combine of reports that continually get disregarded, seeing my work sputter uselessly around the office until it is tossed in the paper shredder along with the companies financial accounts.

it didn't occur to me how much i hated my job until today. as the billy goat sped past my geo metro i realized i probably wasn't making enough to substantiate myself with any claim to any human that i was worth more than a nickle and a dick in the ass. i pulled in to the bike rack and chained up my four cylinder motor heaven and walked into the office.

i get on the elevator along with the rest of the apathetic thursday crowd and realized something. i really hate my job. it isn't just the job itself, but everything about the job. and what i hate more is i've spent two years being indifferent to something i hated so vehemently. i get off at my floor and walk to my cubicle. i set down my coffee and realize today will be my last day. no two weeks notice, no going away party, no, i'm going to burn some fucking bridges today.

i pull open my top drawer and remove a stack of manilla folders, revealing my holy grail. i pull out the 7.5 oz bottle of southern comfort and comfort my morning coffee with a little treat of southern hospitality. as i sit back, i begin to map out the day's activities.

10 a.m.

as i sit and stare at the blank monitor in front of me, i can smell her. the cheap wal-mart brand perfume wafting through the office air nearly makes me gag, and i turn to see sandy. sandy is my supervisor, or at least she likes to think so. as she talks, her cheap lipstick caking around her mouth shoots at me, and her deuce-and-a-half frame has been rumored to have been scouted by the broncos.

"are you going to do some work today?" she scoffs. i turn back to my computer and flip on the monitor and it begins to breathe life again.

"of course, you dumb slut", i reply as i turn back to her, taking a large gulp out of my morning of goodness.

"what?! what did you just say?" she gasps.

"i asked if you had some gum or not", i retort and turn back to my computer, entering in my password.

"oh, well it didn't sound like that. you need to get the damson file done today, mr. dobbs wants it on his desk by 4", she says and turns and hits her huge ass on my cubicle doorway. the entire frame shakes and my heidi klum calender drops to the floor with a wicked thud. i heard an angel lose its wings.

12 p.m.

the southern comfort ran out sometime around 11 and i took a quick trip to o'danny's, the local market, to pick up some more booze and ingrediants. after pouring a healthy portion of soco into my supersized coke, i pull the stapler out of my second drawer and begin to inspect it. i unlatch it and pull it into its elongated form. i begin to perform durability tests by pounding it into the soft fabric walling that makes up my shanty.

"what in the hell are you doing?" todd pokes his head over the top of my unit.

"nothing", i reply as i quickly turn back to my computer.

"you were clearly doing something, what were you doing?" todd asks again, this time sounding angry.

"nothing, you gay whore", i answer and take a large swig out of my coke.

"what?! what did you just call me?" todd exclaims. he stares blankly at me, unbelieving of what he just heard.*

*on a side note, it was widespread rumor that during his vacation cruise last spring he met up with the cabin boy. at the company party he was rumored to have left with kyle, the copy boy who is about as gay as matthew perry.

"i said 'nothing, come to my door'", what? sorry, i'm drunk at this point and any answer seemed to do well in my mind. he scoffs and sinks back into his cell. i think i hear him call his mom and start to cry, but i may have passed out.

2 p.m.

i pull out the ingrediants from my bag and follow todd into the men's room. i make sure he doesn't see me following him. he enters the first stall and i enter the second. i drop my pants to my ankles and set my things on the toilet. i unscrew the peanut butter jar and uncap the ketchup. i begin to create a majical concotion around the toilet seat, making such noises as "errrrr....garrrrr...ferrrrrr...." as i squirt the ketchup and mix it with the peanut butter. i pull out a long strip of toilet paper and carefully wrap up a reasonable amount of peanut butter and ketchup in it, balling it up carefully.

at this point, my plan is almost complete. i set the toilet paper ball on the toilet and pick up my final ingrediant: a large cantelope. i let out a loud "errrrrrr!" and hoist the melon above my head, letting it drop with a loud *plop* into the toilet bowl.

"ahhh!!" i hear todd scream from the next stall over, "are you okay?" to which i reply by letting the toilet paper ball of ketchup and peanut butter roll into his stall.

"ehhhhhh.... yeah....", i reply, breathing heavily, "can you kick that back over hear?" i hear the toilet flush and the poor gay bastard bolt out of the bathroom.

today i quit my job. i didn't really quit, i'm just not going to go anymore. are they going to fire me? i don't know. i'm just not going anymroe

 

[mustynutz]

Otter, what's your twenty?" Jane the dispatcher radioed, asking my location within the Roaring Fork Valley.

"I'm right behind Jake." I responded in my usual smart-alecy fashion on those days when I am in a good mood.

"OK, what's Jake's twenty?"

"I'm right in front of Otter." Jake and I could read each other like a book.

"You know I hate you guys." Jane said, "Come into the office once you get back, ten-four?"

"Ten-four, Jane."

We were referred to as the Wilson/Phillips show, Jake's last name being Wilson, mine of course, Phillips. We were always put together on runs simply because the dispatchers knew we worked well together and that we could work without the dispatchers holding our hands. That and when we were together, they knew we were out of their hair for a while.

So when we walked into the dispatcher's office, our boss, Alicia, smacked us both up-side our heads, something she did to Jake and I quite often. We knew we deserved it most of the time though. At least she did it with a smile so we knew she was amused by something, but we screwed up someplace along the lines.

"What?" we asked.

She told us to follow here to her office. We did so and she showed us a bunch of papers our mechanics use to know what needs to be repaired on the vans and limos.

"Did you guys go over these repair reports the other day?" she asked

"Yes" Jake answered, "Why?

"Well your way of reviewing and repairing leaves something to be desired."

"How so?" I asked, "We did all those first echelon repairs like we were supposed to. We got all those vans on the road again."

"Yes, but your way of writing the vans off is where we have problems."

We looked over the reports, and we saw nothing wrong. But then again we weren't looking at it through the eyes of a manager.

"Here the driver reports 'Front end vibration unbelievably loud.' After you fixed it, you wrote, 'Vibration set to more believable level.'

"Where the driver wrote 'Left front tire almost needs to be replaced,' you guys put "Left front tire almost replaced.'

"And look at the rest of your entries:
'Something loose in cargo area,' you wrote, 'Something tightened in cargo area.'
"'dead bugs all over front end,' your response: 'Replaced with live bugs.'
"'Radio inoperative,' of course you guys put, 'Radio always inoperative when turned off,'
"Now cut me a break on this one...'Right Rear tire leaking air' to which you put 'Right Rear air leakage normal, all other tires lacking normal air leakage.'"

"Well, we were right on those weren't we?" Jake asked.

Alicia threw us a look of exasperation, then continued, "'evidence of leak coming from oil pan.' You guys wrote up that the evidence had been removed.

"And when this driver wrote that he though that one of the pistons might be missing, you wrote that it might be found under the hood.

"Then this driver said that the van handles funny, so you guys "told the van to straighten up, drive right and be serious!

"Now this, this one put us over the edge...The driver reports that the dashboard "hums" while driving down the road. So you guys in turn taught the dashboard the words."

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Alicia smacked us on our heads again and sent us on our way.

 

[VSTXDJ]

LMFAO @ DA LAST ONE