Category Archives: I quit

Server Tells Boss Exactly How She Feels

There isn’t one person who is reading this blog right now who hasn’t dreamed of quitting their job in some kind of epic fashion. Last year, a Walmart employee quit via the storewide intercom system while recording himself. The video went viral because he did what we all want to do, but so seldom have the courage to follow through on. 


In the restaurant industry, we are bombarded with reasons to want to quit, leaving a trail of destruction behind us. How fulfilling it would be to climb atop Table 9 in the middle of a busy Saturday night shift and say at the top of your lungs, “This place is a shit show and you can all go eat my farts.” The only problem with leaving in such a fashion is that you definitely cannot use that job as a reference and you should probably have another job lined up before you do it.

This brings me to what happened last week at Movie Tavern in Syracuse, New York. An employee who shall not be named, had already put in her notice and her last day was still a few days away. However, it seems that she could not take even another minute working for a particular general manager and decided to do something big. At the end of the shift, she sent a message via Hot Schedules to the GM and the entire FOH staff saying exactly how she felt.

I and many employees bite our tongue because we are scared to seek up for ourselves with the fear of being fired out of spite, but I’m done holding back. The way you treat your employees is horrible. You constantly belittle us speak to us in a rude manner and treat us like we don’t matter. Respect is earned not given just because you hold the title of General Manager. You should re-evaluate the way you treat your employees because the majority of us can’t stand working with you.


Name Withheld

P.S. Oh and by the way, I quit! I’ll miss you all! (Except you, Name Withheld.)

I can only imagine how this message filled this server’s soul with joy. Just knowing that she got to say exactly what she wanted to say to her boss, but also that the entire team saw it as well, has to be so satisfying. The best part is that now the General Manger knows exactly how her team feels about working for her and she has to accept it. She can tip toe around asking, “Well, is that how you feel?” and “Does everyone here hate me?” And no matter what anyone says to her face, she’ll know what they are probably thinking.

Vengeance can be a wonderful thing.

I wish all good things to this employee who gave her co-workers a wonderful gift this holiday season. Hopefully, this GM will see the error in her ways and change her behavior. Or perhaps Movie Tavern will investigate and see what they can do to make the working conditions more tolerable for Syracuse employees.

Restaurant managers need to understand this: the majority of those of us who work in the service industry want to do a good job. If management treats us with respect, we will have even more incentive to work harder. Too many managers think it’s alright to treat us poorly but then turn around and expect us to treat our customers and co-workers with respect. That’s not how it works. We are a team and when we all respect each other, morale goes up and service gets better. If you’re a manager who doesn’t respect your employees, then you 100% deserve to be roasted on Hot Schedules and this blog. Get your shit together, Movie Tavern Syracuse.

I Quit. Again.

I may have mentioned before that I have had a lot of restaurant jobs and therefore I have quit a lot of restaurant jobs. Every once in a while, I will give my employer the standard two weeks notice but on the very rare occasion (okay, almost every time) I will just decide that I am done with a certain job and move on immediately. That is how I left Houlihan’s. Both times. Yes, I worked there, quit with no notice and then they hired me back later. I don’t know who was more desperate, me or them. The second time I quit, I had really had it. I remember that it was a few before Christmas and I was sick to death of serving the dredge that had to come see The Radio City Christmas Ex-crap-aganza. Houlihan’s squeezed every drop of energy I had in my body and milked me dry. It was late at night probably around 1:00 AM or so, after we had closed and we were doing our sidework ready to get the fuck out. Our assistant manager came out of the office to give us a vital piece of information that he had forgotten to tell us hours earlier: the carpets were being cleaned that night and we had to move all the tables and chairs off the carpet and into the bar area. And he just told us this now? I wanted to strangle him. I wanted him to suffer a slow death. I wanted to force feed him a Houlihan’s chicken stir fry which may be the worst fate anyone would ever have to endure. That was the straw that broke this camel’s bitchy ass back. That was something we should have been told hours before so we could start preparing. You know, as soon as a table was cleared drag it over to the bar so we wouldn’t have to do all of them at once. There are no words to explain how pissed I was. I recall dragging chairs and throwing them with all my strength (which is not very strong so it’s not as menacing at it seems) down the bar and letting them crash into the wall and the floor. My manager told me to take it easy and I gave him a big look of “fuck you.” I had already done my money drop so there was really nothing keeping me there except for this carpet cleaning crap. After moving about four tables I decided I needed to leave. Christmas was days away and I really wanted that day off to go to mass and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ our Heavenly savior. Either that or wake up and have mimosas on that day. Which ever one, it was time to compose my letter of resignation. I picked up a bev nap and did that very thing.

Dear Houlihan’s,
Effective immediately, I quit

I laid the napkin on the manager’s desk, punched out and went home. I assume the carpets got cleaned. Good thing they were worried about the carpets. Yeah, the carpets were the grossest thing in that place, sure.

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Take This Job and Shove It

I believe that it’s apparent that I have had a lot of jobs in the course of my life. For me to move on from one job to the next wonderful opportunity, it means that I have had to quit a lot of jobs over the years too. Quitting jobs is a delicate proposition. It must be done professionally and in a mature way so as not to upset your employer and ensure a good recommendation in the future. Or in my case, you can leave a smokey trail of burnt bridges across the land. When I want to quit a job, my impatience rules and I just have to get the fuck out of there.

Pizzeria Uno, South Street Seaport. I had worked there for about four months I guess. I hated it because the place stayed open until two in the fucking morning and sometimes I wouldn’t get home until almost 3:30. All we served were tourists and rats. And when prom time rolled around, I couldn’t believe how many guys brought their date to Pizzeria Uno for the big night. I think a lot of girls traded in their V-card for a deep dish pepperoni pizza that year. How romantic. Anyhoo, after a summer there, I was really on the edge and wanting a new job. One day at our shift meeting before the evening shift, our managers were ripping us new assholes. Some servers were adding gratuity to the checks of foreign tourists without telling them. Now we all know that a lot of foreign tourists don’t tip and it’s great when we can add the grat. But what these waiters were doing was adding it, burying the total in the check and then not telling them and hoping they would get tipped on top of it. Ethically and morally wrong and believe it or not I was not doing it. Shut up, I really wasn’t. (Truth be told, I was still too new and didn’t even know it was a possibility. I was innocent by ignorance.) At the shift meeting our managers were really upset about it and screaming at all of us even though it was just a few servers who were guilty of this horrendous crime. “It’s wrong, it’s dishonest, it’s stealing from the company!” In all actuality, I think it was stealing from the customers, but whatever. I really didn’t appreciate getting yelled at for something I had no part of. After the manager had hissed her last breath of anger, I went to look at my station for the night. I didn’t like it. I was supposed to close. I didn’t like that either. Suddenly I realized that there were way too many things about this job I didn’t like.

I went to the back of the house and to my locker and got my belongings. I walked back through the kitchen, to the time clock, punched out and walked past the host stand. Someone yelled at me, “Hey, how are you getting to leave so early?” “Easy,” I answered. “I just punched out. Bye, I quit.”

I mailed them a self-addressed stamped envelope the next day for my final paycheck and never set foot in that place again. Quitting jobs is easy. And fun. Fuck you, Pizzeria Uno. Fuck you and all the rats that live there.

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