Six Of The Most Ridiculous Reasons To Call Off Work

Six Of The Most Ridiculous Reasons To Call Off Work

Oh joy.  The cold and flu season has arrived.  Let the sniffles begin.  Now the bullshit excuses can really fly.  Bring it.  I have heard them all.

Today, I had to write up Sickly Serena.  Her crime?  She has taken advantage of her thirty-first sick day this year and we still have two and a half months to go.

Serena isn't the only culprit.  The whole lot of them have more excuses than an Irishman.

I told them all as much today when I put the crew on notice-as of October 19, 2014, I am officially sick and tired of the crap.  Literally.

Seriously the "I've got the runs" has become Serena's go-to justification for a day off.  Quite frankly, its a shitty reason to miss work.

From here on out every "illness" requires a doctor note.  No note?  Then don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

I'll let you be the judge-here are six of the most ridiculous excuses I have entertained since the new year began back in January.

What's more ridiculous - The excuses or me accepting them?

The majority of them should have been gone months ago--but when I consider the alternative of training another one--I bite my tongue and decide to enjoy the stress-free day of the "sickly culprit du jour".

We offer minimum wage here and gods know we aren't exactly splitting the atom or curing cancer; we're flipping burgers...the options are few and far between.

 

Sickly Serena:  I'm not going to be able to come to work today.

Me:  What's wrong-you don't sound sick.

Sickly Serena:  It's not me-it's my cat, Clarence.  I have to take him to the vet.

Me:  Can't your boyfriend take the cat? (while to myself I say, of course he can-he hasn't worked for the last two years)

Sickly Serena: Nah-Clarence hates him.

 

A voicemail from bleach blonde Bernice:

 

Bernice:  * sobbing uncontrollably*  Yeah-I dyed my roots earlier today-and the motherfuckers turned orange.  So I went out and got a stripper from Sally's.  I stripped the hair...and now...now...*blows her nose*...now it's fucking grey and falling out in goddamn clumps.  *Blows her nose again*.  Yeah-I'm not going to be in tonight.

 

A text from Sickly Serena-she usually texts when she doesn't feel she can lay the "illness" on heavy enough...

 

Sickly Serena:  I'm not going to be able to come to work today.  I've been on the toilet all night.  And, my dad had a heart attack.

Me:  See you tomorrow?

Sickly Serena:  Yeah, definitely.

 

It's Thursday and Young Yolanda has been off work since Monday.  Young Yolanda is a big fan of texting.  Young Yolanda is eight weeks pregnant.  We've been aware of her "condition" since the day after the night of the teenage passion when she group texted the entire unit the good news.

 

Monday's Text:  O.M.G.  My legs are tired.  My mom says I need sturdier shoes since I'm pregnant and on my feet all day.  I won't be in today.

Tuesday's Text:  I got new shoes and spent all day yesterday breaking them in.  Now, I have a blister on my big toe and the back of my ankle.  It is kinda hard to walk.  Hopefully I will be in tomorrow.

Wednesday's Text:  I'm stuck in the snow.  And, I have a flat tire.  I'm also spotting.  I know you said I needed a doctor's note when this happened last week - but my mom says we can't afford to go to the doctor.  I won't be in today.

Thursday Morning @ 6:00 a.m...No text.  No Call.  No Show.

Thursday at Noon Text after numerous calls/messages/text messages inquiring about her MIA status:  Hey-I overslept.  I just woke up.  Since there are only two hours left on my shift do you still want me to come in?

 

And, then there is the lady who doesn't miss work often, but when she does...it usually involves a 72-hour hold or restraining order.

 

Whacky Wilma:  I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to come in tomorrow.  (her voice starts to trail off...)

Me:  Is everything okay, Wilma?

Whacky Wilma:  My daughter's ex threatened to stab her favorite pillows.  The police got involved and now she has to bail him out.  I need to offer her some moral support.

 

Stock-em-Up Stewie isn't any better.  Wednesday is his normal "call in day".  And, as my luck would have it, hump day coincides with order day.   Memorial Day Monday threw him off his game this year...and he got the days all mixed up.  When he realized his mistake that early mid-week morning he knocked on the door to the office.  He refused to enter-instead shouted his symptoms through the closed door.

 

Stock-em Up Stewie:  Yeah Boss, sorry, but I gotta go.

Me: You just got here-what's wrong?

Stock-em Up Stewie:  I gots a rash.  I'm going home to scratch it.

 

See what I mean?  They're hopeless.

I can't be the only one surrounded by whack-jobs...What was the craziest excuse you ever gave or heard to take a day off work?

 

You can also email me @ clusterfckcafe@gmail.com with a crazy-ass customer/employee story--go on--get it off your chest--with your permission I will feature it here.

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