Spending time with some of my old friends this weekend, I was reminded of some of our funniest stories. We’re a group of reformed crazy girls, but back in the day we had very uh, creative ways of getting into trouble. But not the kind of trouble you’d think.
My friend Leigh moved to New York City because she got an amazing opportunity to intern for a famous music magazine. But, because it was an internship, she had to get a paying job as well so she could afford to live. And, because it is New York City, she had to get two paying jobs. She got a job at a lovely upscale home store, but it wasn’t quite enough. She heard about a new upscale bar opening, so she attended their open cattle call for bartenders.
She walked in, and it was full of all those “beautiful people” types – you know what I mean, the wanna-be actors and models. Don’t get me wrong, Leigh is gorgeous. But she found herself getting nervous while she waited for her interview. When she was called back, all her post-college bartending experience went out of her head, and when she was asked why she wanted to work at this posh club she said, “because I’m new in town, and I love people.” With a British accent. Leigh, it should be noted, is from Arkansas. She didn’t plan to talk that way, she just panicked. It worked. She was different, she was hired.
Leigh lived the double life for a while. The problem was that she would run into people who knew her as “British Leigh” when she was with people who knew her as “Southern Leigh” and vice versa. Luckily, her job at the music mag went really well, and she was soon offered a paying job, allowing her to quit her extra gigs.
Leigh’s story about lying to get a job reminded me of a time I lied to get out of a job. I finished my senior year of college a semester early, but I tried (mostly unsuccessfully) to keep my non-student status under wraps because I still lived in student housing. Being somewhat responsible, I had gotten myself a part-time job that I thought would help me with my dream to work in the record industry. I worked at the Virgin Megastore. Of course, I didn’t get put in the MUSIC section – I was placed in movies. Whatever. It was one of the worst jobs I ever had. The other guys I worked with (yeah, I was the only chick) literally talked about ways to commit suicide. I worked there a month before I put in my two weeks notice. Looking back, I can’t believe I lasted that long.
A week after I put in my notice, my college basketball team made it to the Sweet Sixteen in the NCAA tournament. Caring more about college pride and less about basketball, I really really wanted to watch the game with my friends at the campus bar (what, your college didn’t have a campus bar? Mine had TWO!). My friends, being bad bad influences, convinced me to call in sick. They reminded me how much I hated the job, how slimy I felt after spending time with the suicide cult, and how much fun I would have watching the game at Traddy’s with them.
So I called in sick. But because I hadn’t learned to keep it simple, I went into my closet (I have no idea why) and I called in with APPENDICITIS. Yeah, just your typical, MAJOR SURGERY REQUIRED illness. So dumb. I went to the bar and watched the game with my friends, and we had a blast. There was a local news channel there filming all the students going crazy. I hid my face every time the camera turned my way. Because, you know, I was supposedly sick with appendicitis.
At some point during the game, my cell phone was stolen. Frigging karma.
No one bothered to tell me that appendicitis takes A MONTH to recover from. So on Monday, TWO DAYS after I’d called in sick, I went back to work. Needless to say, they were all stunned I was there. One of the suicide cult members said to me, “Wow, I had appendicitis when I was 12 and I was out of school for a month.” Realizing I was caught, I said, “Well…I’m very tough.”
I know that Leigh and I aren’t the only ones who have told tall tales to get or get out of a job. So spill it!!
P.S. I’m guest posting for Gemini Girl today. Go on over and say hi!
I told my boss my dad was in a car accident. Of course I hadn’t seen the man in more than a dozen years so it’s quite possible he actually was in a car accident.
moosh in indy. says:
I had an old boyfriend come into work and since I didn’t feel like being there I said I had a restraining order against him and couldn’t handle being there. That I couldn’t bear to have him removed from the restaurant, it was just too much for me.
Tears, blubbering, everything.
It was one of my best performances.
moosh in indy.s last blog post..Hot: Day 5-Lowlights of my depressive history.
Black Hockey Jesus says:
I was sick of swinging a hammer so I applied for substance abuse counselor at a methadone clininc. I told them everyone I knew was a drug addict. I worked there 4 years.
Black Hockey Jesuss last blog post..Jacksonlessness
My poor brother/sister/mother/father/husband have been in car accidents more often than NASCAR drivers!
Oh, and my grandmother (rest her soul) died twice in one year.
I had perfected the growly, sick throat voice for calling in sick. And when I was a 1st grade teacher, my sick days were often days I wanted to spend with Hubby instead.
Now, I’m a SAHM and that whole sick voice won’t work anymore. A five year old could care less. Play UNO with me instead, he says.
Midwest Mommy says:
I am not bad, my hubs is BAD! He can’t just call into work it has to be something dramatic. Here are just a couple he has used:
Fell off a roof and hurt his back..work told him to take 3 days off.
Cracked a tooth- he had to wear that braces gum stuff for a week to work because everyone was so concerned about his tooth and kept asking.
You would think he would have learned by now to just say something simple, but no…he still has to have a dramatic reason. Oh and he never ever uses a sick day when he is really sick.
Midwest Mommys last blog post..Jumperoo Snooze
I’m so glad to learn that I’m not the only one who pulled the “relative in a car accident” thing! I used it to get out of a job that I was offered, and I felt guilty about it for years afterward.
RockyCats last blog post..Quick Question(s)
I can’t come up with anything, except for telling my boss I was TOTALLY coming back to work after Dylan was born, even though I had absolutely no intention of it. I wanted to be sure I got my full sick/family leave time. Poor guy had NO idea I was going to leave him hanging. He still loves me, though, so it’s all good.
standard exhausted working mum trick: ring in and say your kid is sick (which they are not). take unsick kid to daycare, go home and sleeeeeeep. (you’re welcome to use that).
i hated a job so much, it literally made me sick. i lost my voice and everything. i worked that job two days. it was teh suck.
zeghsys last blog post..sucky…
I still feel horrible about it but to quit a hostess job I said my dad was really sick (heart problem) and I had to fly to CT where he lives. I didn’t know when I would be coming back so I felt I should leave the position and I would call when I got back. Needless to say, I never called. A couple weeks after I ran into one of the bartenders who asked how my dad was. I said he was feeling much better and that I had just gotten back into town the night before.
Baileys last blog post..Crib Saga
I’ve quit many a job, although not so interestingly. Mainly, I just stop going. Because I don’t want to go anymore.
Want to hire me?
Andrea's Sweet Life says:
I told my boss that I got offered a kick-ass job paying twice the money, working half the time and just couldn’t turn it down.
In reality, I just couldn’t handle all the creditors and clients calling and bitching me out because my boss didn’t follow through with anything I had set up. The place went bankrupt two years later!
Well, not really a job, but I wore a full leg brace to jury duty because I’d lost my parking pass and was worried they wouldn’t let me in. I figured, “eh, why not? It’s one day.” And then I got put on a jury and had to traipse around downtown L.A. every day for a week with it on, telling everyone I’d had a ‘tennis accident’ with my husband…….karma’s a bitch, I’m waiting for the REAL accident to happen.
Jennifer, Playgroups are no place for children says:
I hated my job as a waitress at Amarillo Grill. I lied that my grandpa needed me as a caregiver in Kansas. I lived in Missouri.
My boss caught me the very next day working at a different restaurant. I lied again and said that he didn’t need me until the next day.
I got caught again the next week.
Jennifer, Playgroups are no place for childrens last blog post..How to murder a fly. A tutorial.
I have had jury duty so many times that I qualify as a Supreme Court Justice now.
Anissa@Hope4Peytons last blog post..Acknowledging fears
You got to love us gorgeous girls from Arkansas! Except this one is apparently a sicko. It never occurred to me to have a sick relative need me in another state. I told them my best friend had committed suicide. What the hell is wrong with me???
Susans last blog post..Oklahoma Makes Me Horny
The only job I ever quit without giving notice and being all respectable about it was a telemarketing thing I did in high school. It was awful, the people you called yelled at you all the time. Which is why I am now quite nice to telemarketers, within reason anyway. But after one too many shifts that ended with me crying in the bathroom, I walked into the office and faked laryngitis. Lame, I know, but it was all I could think of at 16.
CaraBees last blog post..Travel Tales: Part 1 – Flying with Baby
Back in college, I used to pull the “I have to study for a test” way too many times. I worked for an on-campus place used to college students, so they were usually very understanding about it. I had so many fake tests one semester than I could have crammed my entire major’s curriculum right there, if only they had been, you know, REAL TESTS. I hated that place. I used to hide in the bathroom and cry and swear I would quit that same night, but never did for some stupid reason (oh yeah, I needed money!).