Lunch Break, He Wasn’t There

Oh, this is fun. A forum thread of clever, grumpy comedy fans discussing times they (and others) have quit jobs in style.

A terminally unemployed mate who finally decided to join the rest of us at the only place nearby that was offering paid work at the time, a huge greenhouse growing tomatoes, aubergines and the like. We were very encouraged that he had taken this important step and confident that it would be the springboard that set him on the right path in life.

Day one: morning break, he was in the corner of the canteen almost scratching his entire face off as his various skin complaints had flared up in the heat and turned his head into a giant flakey raspberry.

Day one: lunch break, he wasn’t there. I later found out he got stung on the arse by a wasp and told his line manager to go and fuck himself.

Another poster gives us an additional link to even more stories of gorgeous walk-outs:

I worked […] at a mismanaged grocery chain that is now out of business. I was a cashier but they had a 16-year-old girl working behind the fish counter (which was illegal) and who was not being paid properly for the work she was doing (because she wasn’t supposed to be doing it!).

On Sunday, the beginning of the pay period, she clocked in, wrote I QUIT in cod, haddock, and tilapia filets in the seafood counter, and clocked out. She framed a photo of her masterwork and her last paycheck for $2 and hung it in her bedroom.

Haha. Fantastic.

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Robert Wringham is the editor of New Escapologist. He also writes books and articles. Read more at www.wringham.co.uk/about.

3 Responses to “Lunch Break, He Wasn’t There”

  1. Mark Sparrow says:

    I laughed out loud at the resignations – how sweet they were. For myself, sniffing an imminent dismissal anyway, I called up my line manager and – in the course of a fuming ten minute monologue – reminded him what a failed human being he was & how I continued to unacceptably lower my standards all the while I associated with him. I locked his ghastly phone in the ghastly corporate motor and mailed off the keys (sans stamp) to him. I then went for a walk & lent on a five bar gate reflecting how wonderful it was that we’d never talk again. 18 years on, I sometimes return to the gate & reflect, even now, on how right I was to tell him where to get off. I’m smiling as I type this…..

  2. Ahahaha! That’s so great. I’ve never been so ballsy: I just quit and quietly disappear. You enacted the fantasy though. And I love that you can go back to the gate to reconnect with how you must have felt that day. That’s really quite lovely.

  3. Mark Sparrow says:

    Thanks Robert. I have only the one regret – I should have taped the call. I’d built up such a head of steam it was something to behold. I could have sent copies to colleagues! Time rolls on & I’m lucky enough to work with decent, caring, upstanding & classy bosses. They absolutely deserve me!

    I loved Escape Everything. You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve been cancelling direct debits willy nilly whilst ‘working from home’ just now. Sweet, sweet freedom.

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