Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Last Impressions

Did you read about the Jet Blue flight attendant who got fed up with his job (last straw, a passenger wouldn't stay seated, cussed at him and hit him on the head) so he said some dirty words on the microphone, grabbed a couple of beers and his carry-on luggage, activated the automatic slide and exited the plane? I don't think I'd ever have the nerve to do it, but I can sure understand the desire.

I worked with a cocktail waitress who said her fantasy was to win the Lottery and then go around applying for jobs in cocktail lounges. She said she'd work until one of the customers was rude to her and then she'd pour a large glass of tomato juice on their head. She wanted to have enough money that she could move to several different cities and do this over and over again.

The best way I ever quit a job was when the restaurant I worked at scheduled me for days they had already given me off for my second job. It was around Christmas, so I left a message with my answering service that, if my employer called to give them this message: "'Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la. I quit."


  1. My best quit was a movie theater. I gave the box-office girl my shirt & a letter explaining why, that I also mailed to home office.

  2. My boyfriend and I work in the same hotel, and we say that if we ever win the lottery, we're going to have the sloppiest sex session possible on the GM's desk. Food, lube, whatever. Then when he walks in we're going to flip him off jointly and continue banging like he's not even there.