No Soup For You!

I work at a new Chinese restuarant, where my boss is a straight off the boat Chinese man. Every so often he comes up with a totally ridiculous new rule. Last week, he said, “From now on, no more short sleeve. Customa no like armpit hair in da soup!”

Roll Out

I got an email from my boss one day a few months ago and she was giving us a list on ways we can cut cost at the office. I was okay with all of them except the last one when she said we were only going to be able to use 6 sheets of toilet paper a day. Yes, I said it, 6 sheets of toilet paper per day. Needless to say I just take my own roll to work.

Sick Burn

I worked as a cook in a seafood restaurant the summer after I
graduated high school. There was an accident in the kitchen that led
me to receive a very large hot oil burn that covered the vast
majority of my left arm. The company did everything they could to
avoid helping me out at all, and wouldn’t let me go home after the
incident happened.

A week or two later, my arm was looking slightly better and I was in
the middle of a legal battle with the company. Because they knew
they’d wronged me the managers so graciously allowed me to work the
cold side (with the salads and breads and such) while my arm healed.
I noticed several employees would use the same knife to cut raw
chicken, and then without cleaning it, would open a new bag of salad.

I took the initiative and got a disinfectant rag and proceeded to
(very, VERY carefully) clean the knife. As I did that, the regional
manager came up the stares and stared at me. He said something about
it being dangerous (but didn’t apparently care about health code
violations)

“Don’t worry, I’m careful,” I assured.

“I bet that’s what you said before you burned your arm.”