Why I Quit My Crappy Job. Quit my job at Whataburguer. Place stank anyways.. Sn I quit my job today, and here' s why. It' s a long read, but stick with me. I wo Whataburguer Animals crap Job quit sucked Fat People homeless drug addicts dump
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Why I Quit My Crappy Job

 
Why I Quit My Crappy Job. Quit my job at Whataburguer. Place stank anyways.. Sn I quit my job today, and here' s why. It' s a long read, but stick with me. I wo

Quit my job at Whataburguer. Place stank anyways.

Sn I quit my job today, and here' s why. It' s a long read, but stick with me.
I worked) at the fine restaurant located on TOOH main st, in Houston, Texas. Now, our chain is famous for getting the best
of metaljunkies, rednecks, troubled negroes, and obese folk. Typically I' m used to working with the scum ofthe Earth - you hand them
their fatty food and they leave you alone - but today we had a very special gentleman visit us.
It' s about three o clock in the afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the fine citizens of Houston are cleaning their guns and
walking their dogs. Me, I' m an hour away from the end of my shill when I smell something funky. To my amazement, t see the dirtiest
human being who ever was walk into the joint. Edict than Jack Black, dirtier than Kimmo, dirtier than Sarah Palm' s vagina.
I pray to God that he' ll turn around and leave, but no, he' s walking towards me. I notice his features and his clothing as he gets ever
closer to the cash register; his blue eyes are blood shot, his hair is long and full of mange, he has a beard littered with leaves, what I
assume is food, and some other shit. He' s wearing your typical hobo/ drug addict beige coat, no fucking; shoes - I am see his rotting nails
from where I am - and dirty fucking jeans. He approaches.
gime terger it ."
What?"
it TEST'
sir, would you like to pick a combo or make a selection from our menu?"
He looks confused as fuck, looks to the menu (which I' m pointing at) animal mumbles something that sounds like number one. Simple
enough. I' m supposed to ask him to leave for obvious reasons, but I' m not fucking with this motherfucker. I just want to get him his
fucking food so he' ll leave without causing me any trouble.
Anyway s, I' m expecting him to pay with some kind of dirty change that he got in the streets or something, but sure enough, and I should
have expected this, he has no fucking money Great. I explain to him that we need some sort of payment. This confuses and angers out
fine guest.
He starts yelling some crazy shit that I can' t make out This attracts the attention of my fat fuck of a manager who had
been handling the drive through cash register. Now, my manager is another wonderful character. A middle aged fat fuck with a bone up
his ass because it an hour at 's the best he' ll ever be able to do with his life
Travis, what' s going uni?"
Hey Joe... This customer doesn' t have any money to pay for his order. I' m trying to explain to him that he needs to come back with
funds."
While I' m putting on some diplomatic act to please this fuck, the crazy guy is getting louder and louder. He' s starting to swing around
like a fucking chimp, and do some weird dance like troves that remind me of Andrew WK.
Now it' s obvious this guy' s on drugs and probably crazy anyways. My manager pulls me to the sides and like the dick that he is asks me
some dumbass questions. "Why did you let him in? Why did you aggravate him? Ask him to leave, you know the drill, blah blah blah fat
blubber talk bullshit”.
Hey Joe, can' t we just give him some free food so he' ll leave us alone?"
hie! I' been working here for 3 years, ifyou give these people food they' ll never leave, they' ll just keep coming back,
fat fuck talk, etc. Tell him to leave."
So anyways, I turn to the crazy fucker:
Sir, I' m gonna have to ask you to leave. You' re aggravating our customers." (the store' s fucking empty at this point).
His orangutan act gets even more violent.
SIR. IF YOU DON' T LEAVE I' LL HAVE TO CALL, THE POLICE."
So, this seems to do the trick. He stops dancing, says the only thing that I understood come out mouth, which was
Fuck you" and walks towards the exit. I' m relieved. But not for long.
To express his discontent he stops at the foot of the fucking door, drops his pants, and I kid you not, takes a HUGE SHIT ON THE
FLOOR. Then he casually walks out. He dropped a huge load. It looked like a young Michael Jackson or may be Prince. There were
shades of green and purple on it, and the smell is absolutely indescribable. Something akin to what the essences of an anal ,
sulfur, and armpits mast smell like if they' re combined.
We are fucking shouted. By now the commotion was so huge that the person working the fries and the girl who' s supposed to be hand-
ing out orders at the drive through are all standing there with me and Joe, just looking at that brown baby, in disbelief.
Now, you' d think this would stop there, but no And this is what lets me know that god has a sense of humor. We' re sitting there for
maybe IO seconds, but it feels like an eternity. But we' re so focused on the shit that we don' t notice that the most obese woman in the
state of Texas (quit an accomplishment} is about to walk through the door.
We noticed the door opening. Never underestimate how fast a fat person move when looking for food, because before we could even
open our mouths she had already walked in and slipped on the huge piece of shit. h was like watching the atom bomb being dropped
right at the front door.
Shit got splattered EVERYWHERE! The fat woman is wearing some kind upskirt, there' s shit all over her bare legs. Kelly (the drive
through girl} starts fucking crying. The fat woman' s heart breakingly polite, and while she' s still on the floor asks what site Just stepped
on, and makes stoke about being a elm: Kelly starts fucking sobbing.
Any way s, I look at Joe, and I know the fucker will blame me for this shit. I don' t want to clean any of it up either, so I turn around, walk
out the back door, get into my car, and leave.
Halfway home I start laughing so I had to stop at a parking lot so I could calm down. Anyways, I' m never going back to
that fucking . [fatty of you live in Houston and need ajob, a spousal opened up.
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Views: 24260 Submitted: 04/01/2010