Karma Is Cruel
I was working as a General Manager at a struggling restaurant—struggling despite excellent business, because the owners would do stupid things like take trips to Italy on the company dime to source the “perfect” panini press. They also wouldn’t staff properly; I was the only waiter ever there, open to close, six days a week, on top of handling phone orders, inventory, and other managerial duties. I was wildly overworked, but I sucked it up because the base pay was good, plus tips.
However, to fund their lavish “business” trips, costs had to be cut at the store. They decided to do this by bumping me down to minimum wage for tipped employees—effectively cutting my salary to 1/10 of its previous level. They were also too chicken to tell me until I got my new teeny paycheck and questioned the mistake. “Oh yeah haha, forgot to mention that blah blah cost-cutting blah valued team member please work with us through this difficult time.”
I had worked for two weeks at this new lower rate without my knowledge. Pretty sure that’s against the law, but hey, a lot of sketchy things go on in the restaurant industry. That’s not when I rage quit, though….a couple of hours later, I’m fuming and have decided that I can’t work for the lower rate, so now I’m just waiting for the perfect chance to give my notice.
They called in a delivery guy who was fired a few weeks before, and they talk about hiring him to start doing our Facebook posts and handing out flyers around town. Whatever. Then I hear them offer him close to my old salary as “Promotions Manager”! What??? I was basically running the place for $2.13/hr and you’re offering this dude almost $20/hr to walk up and down the street saying “Eat at (Name)”?
And yet, it gets worse.
They bring up our negative Yelp reviews and this guy suggests asking friends to post positive ones. The boss starts laughing and says “Better not ask our waitress to post one, it’ll be all boohoo don’t eat there, I can’t pay my rent this month because they cut my pay without telling wahhhh!” I don’t think I was supposed to hear that, but I was five feet away, so of course I did.
I RAGED! I quit on the spot, told them to screw their job, and wished them good luck keeping the place open without me. They quickly realized I was right, as neither of them knew how to do more than pick up the takings once a week. They begged me not to quit. They were so desperate that they sat there for half an hour and allowed me to bluntly tell them exactly what kind of huge idiots I thought they were in excruciating detail.
I went on and on as my rage burned, and they just quietly listened, nodding and apologizing. Once I had cursed myself back into calmness, I walked out, 30 minutes before the dinner rush began, leaving them with an unstaffed floor and no clue how to even open the cash register. God, they were morons. I loved that they actually listened to me telling them exactly how stupid they were. No repercussions on my side, as the restaurant industry isn’t known for checking references.
The place closed down about 18 months later, and I was surprised it even made it that long.
Story credit: Reddit / KnickersUpKettleOn