How That Reality Show “My Job Is An Absolute Joke” Got The Axe


work-memeSo remember that reality show about the guy who worked at that restaurant who thought he got fired while he was on vacation but didn’t and then got yelled at for a bow tie not being a tie? Well that show got canned. Not to be confused with the main character getting canned, because that’s definitely not the case. It’s actually quite the opposite: he canned them. Which totally sucks for you if you were planning to binge-watch it. Miss the last episode? Here’s what you missed…

The last recap left off with our main character mowing down one measly carnitas taco that he’d scavenged from a table’s leftovers and drowning his incompetent-manager-induced annoyances away with a bourbon rocks.

After a few more shifts averaging $20-$60 per night, he started searching for other jobs where he might not average as much per hour, but at least he would have a reliable source of income each week and be able to budget (or at least be able to in theory…however math was/is not his strong point). He randomly ended up finding a job at the spa and salon where his eyebrows were treated like royalty and consistently groomed to perfection…as the assistant manager.

Rather than quit his job at the restaurant right on the spot, he decided to keep it for a couple weeks and juggle the two (and make some extra cash). If juggling bowling pins, hula hoops, and balls came as easily to him as juggling multiple jobs he would easily have a second job in a carnival sideshow – that’s how much of a job-juggling professional he is.

For a few weeks, things seemed to be working out…until his manager at the restaurant let a hostess go because her schedule “just wasn’t working out” and kept scheduling him for 3-hour host shifts under the excuse of “I just don’t have anyone else who can work!”

Umm…you could try hiring someone competent perhaps?

After explaining to her time and again that the hours she was scheduling him were outside of his availability, he decided he’d had enough – but not before getting into one last fight with her…over the dress code again. And “mandatory” staff meetings. And several other things.

Imagine that.

Of all nights, it was a Friday night. During the pre-shift meeting the manager decided to ask him what the brunch specials were. Why in the hell would you ask someone who doesn’t work brunch and doesn’t even have brunch availability because he works his other job every weekend what the brunch specials are? So of course, he called her out on it.

“I don’t know what they are. I don’t work brunch, so I guess if a customer asked me I’d refer them to the brunch page in the menu for all the details.”

She didn’t like that answer. Go figure.

At the end of his shift he got asked to see her in her lair. Down the stairs into the throes of hell he went practically prancing with excitement — he would not have the last word. He knew he was about to be reprimanded and was ready to tell her off.

As he walked into her office, he noticed his employee file out on the desk. He knew this couldn’t be good. “We’re going to review your employee handbook,” she said, “since you clearly don’t know what the rules around here are.” Yep…he was in for it.

In reviewing the handbook, he learned…

  • The “no jeans” policy means nothing with jeans-style pockets – even if they’re black dress pants or chinos. If they have jeans-style pockets, they’re jeans. Who knew?
  • Burnt orange corduroys are jeans and go against the dress code for working the host stand – even though there is nothing in the employee handbook about the dress code for the position of host/hostess. It’s just implied.
  • “Black socks” can’t be just any old black socks. They must be full-height dress socks. Not no-show socks worn with loafers. Even if they’re black, they don’t count.
  • Loafers, although worn every day since he started, are not permitted.
  • Black buttondown shirts must be all black with no embellishments. No military pockets, no epaulets, no piping, nothing. Solid. Plain. Black. Even though this isn’t mentioned in the dress code.
  • Black buttondown shirts also cannot be short sleeved. Even though there is no mention of sleeve length in the employee handbook. Short sleeves are the new white: not to be worn after Labor Day or before Memorial Day.
  • Mandatory staff meetings are mandatory. Even if you work a full-time job. No excuses. You have to be present. Heaven forbid another job interfere. Restaurant = God.

After providing rebuttals as necessary and explanations as to why he’d done things otherwise (because the owner said it was fine?), he was dismissed. On his way out, he made the conscious decision that he wouldn’t be back except to pick up his final paycheck.

When he got home, he fired off a quick (yet polite and extremely professional) email to the manager letting her know he was resigning effective immediately, citing other commitments – like a full-time job and preparing to move to California  – that didn’t allow for the dedication that was apparently required for a job at the restaurant.

He never received a response.

Imagine that.

A few days later, he stopped by to drop off his apron and name tag (since there was a $20 deposit held from his first check to use them). Since the manager and owner were both in a meeting, he left it at the host stand and was assured they’d be given to the manager.

A month later with still no email acknowledging neither his resignation nor the return of his work uniform (and still no money back in his paycheck for returning it), he sent a follow-up email questioning the funds.

Of course, she had no record of them being turned in.

At this point, he determined it to be a lost cause. $40 wasn’t worth losing sleep over.

And just like that, “My Job Is An Absolute Joke” was canned.

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