Being GLAD to be terminated.

frost

When I was a pup, I worked in an insurance call center. When people were in accidents, they would call the number on their insurance card, and it would go to our call center. So all day, I was dealing with frantic, angry, upset, temporarily insane people. Fuckin terrible already. We had to collect a **** load of information, but were only allowed a couple minutes on each call, and if we went over that time too often, we got lectured by 8 different bosses like goddamn "office space." My calls were always being listened to, and just taking a piss is a production because I had to ask to leave my cube. I fuckin hated my life. What's worse is, I had left a job I loved to go there.

One day some chick calls up from Madison Wisconsin (important for the story). She says her pedals gave her 3rd degree burns on her foot. I was like, uhhh, are they metal?" No. "Were you wearing shoes?" Yes. "Were they normal shoes, or like, some weird biblical sandal made of paper?" Nike Airs. "No way. There is no way that happened. You're lying"

Fired the same day ... best thing that ever happened to me. My buddy worked there with me, he's still in the insurance game. I make a lot more than him now, and am probably 3482347 times happier with my job than him.

__________________
370z OG