Have a lousy job? Friends, family, and coworkers alike tired of listening to you complain? Well, send your stories here and lift some of the burden off of your already crushed soul. No drug test required.
A couple years ago, I graduated from college and got my first "grown-up" job in an office. This was the year where they had the kerfufle in Washington State over a bunch of non-Christian groups wanting to be able to put their holiday displays up in the capitol building, just like the Christians had traditionally been allowed to do. During lunch, my co-workers were chatting about the situation and my boss says "trust the atheists to ruin Christmas for everyone. I say we should just line them up against a wall and shoot them all." I'm an atheist.
I used to work in a toy store that also sold CDs of children's music, and my boss wanted us to "display the merchandise" by always playing something we had in stock. Most of the year this wasn't too bad. When I got sick of "Little Annoying Kids Sing The Beatles 5," I could always switch to "Little Annoying Kids Sing Death Metal Classics 3" and all was well. The horror began right after Halloween when we had to start with the Christmas music. There was only one CD with about 15 songs on it, all with high pitched little kid voices signing "Jingle Bells," on repeat, for two months.
As a student I worked in a pub. One night a bloke came in and ordered a half pint of beer but asked that I put it in a pint glass. I joked with him that he didn't want his mates to see him drinking a half when he calmly told me that he couldn't drink from a half pint glass because his nose is too big for the glass. Yup, that's when I realised what an enormous schnozz.
I work at a car audio store, as an installer and sales person. I was standing up front one day when this guy pulled in. He was driving a VW van, associated with these cars are party animal drug consuming hippees. The man came in and seemed to be normal. After a while with talking to him he became more interested in telling me how he was a pacifist and about his great road trip concert stories. He started by telling me how much he loved drugs and how many cool people he met at concerts that he ended up sharing get messed up in his ''party van." The first story was how he was tripping balls at this concert and how they announced kids couldnt come anymore, because people were throwing them through the crowd and punching little kids. He explained how funny he thought this was. His next story was how he was on acid and this big sterioded man carrying helium tanks inhaling from both tanks came up and put him in a headlock and explained that this big man thought he was a teddy bear. Lastly, he told us how he gave his van to a man that worked at a radio station because he wanted it so he signed the title over as a gift and two years later decided he missed his great memory-mobile so he bought the car back from the man for $4000. After that story the man ended up eventually leaving and left the instructions for us to never try drugs, as he laughed and left the store.
I work at my university's art school in the printing department. When students have projects that they need printed out, I help them do that. We have a policy that says we are not allowed to directly work on projects in Photoshop so students cannot bring their projects to us and cheat by having us do their projects instead. We can tell you how to do your project just not physically do it. So this girl comes in and tells me what is wrong with her project. I tell her I what to do to fix it, she just has to do it. She tells me that's ridiculous and she wants to see my boss. My boss tells her the same thing I just did. She then proceeds to sit down [in my chair of course] and cry for a legit ten minutes. My boss stood there perplexed for about three. Ten minutes later, with no warning she takes off like a bullet and lets out a single loud sob before she leaves the office. My boss just told me she has done the same thing the past two days.
I have a job that requires me to get on top of the roof in some pretty bad neighborhoods. One day, while on top of a two story building, I heard some commotion on the ground, and made it to the edge of the building just in time to see a local bum stealing the ladder I used to get onto the roof. In a fit of panic (and anger) I grabbed the nearest projectile (my cordless drill) and threw it at the theif. Turns out I have horrible aim, and the bum gained a free drill. Insult to injury. I had to call my boss to come help me off the roof.