What not to do on the job

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Daily Wildcat Ezekiel Buchheit

I got fired from Trader Joe's yesterday. Yep, they booted my ass right on out. Let me side with the company and say that they had every right to do this. I was incredibly insubordinate. I am not angry with them in any fashion. They are right to throw me out on my ass.

Allow me to list true details of my time there and the many crimes I committed. I once, in cold blood and without care for my fellow employees, walked to work in the rain and spent the rest of the day in the 35-degree cooler, stocking. I regularly, and this I am deeply ashamed of, showed up more than 15 minutes early for work! If you can imagine.

And sometimes, not often, but I would be lying if I said that it didn't happen, I would work right through my lunch break.

So you can understand why, when I called up one day and asked for a day off claiming to be sick, they fired me. And let me also say that this call was incredibly unprofessional of me. But I would hate to just tell anybody my opinion of a situation, without first presenting them with the facts surrounding it, and allowing you, the reader, to formulate your own. Really. So here, out of fairness, I present you with a verbatim account of the conversation:

5:30 a.m., a full hour and a half before I was due to show up for work. A phone rings at Trader Joe's.

Paul (The First Mate or Assistant Manager): Hello?

Ezekiel (Piss-ant Worker): Hey Paul, what's up? I feel a bit sick today. I don't think I'm going to make it in.

Paul, in an obviously skeptical voice: You're sick?

Ezekiel: Yeah. Is this too short of notice? Because I can come in and work if it is.

Paul: No, it's fine. CLICK.

Later that same day I got a call informing me of my subsequent unemployment.

I once worked for a place by the name of Hub's Auto Clinic, a little podunk family auto shop. One day after having picked up some parts for a customer, I drove the company truck (actually it was the boss' truck that he kind of lent out to the company) under the watchful eye of my boss, through a fence on the lot. In reverse. Drove it right through the fence, taking out not only the fence, but the taillights, license plate, tailgate and paint of the truck as well. My boss walked over, took a glance at the fence, took a glance at the truck, and told me he had another delivery for me to do. Didn't even dock me some pay.

But I had never called in sick.

For several years I worked for Subway, eventually making it to the rank of assistant manager. I did this by never ever once doing anything that was under my job description. I would regularly refuse service to customers, at least twice I had to meet with police officials regarding goings on at the company, and sometimes, when I was in an exceptionally odd mood, I would make customers an offer in which they need not pay for their sandwiches if they chose, instead, to sign a contract that I had made trading over, to me, their eternal soul.

When I quit the first time, the manager called me back offering me a raise and any schedule I wanted.

But I had never called in sick.

So I understand Trader Joe's decision regarding my employment. And perhaps you will understand why I then chose to burn a Trader Joe's-brand couscous salad in effigy. It seemed like a healthy way to relieve some aggression. And, for the sake of all of you out there, my beloved reading public, who as well may have some pent-up aggression, and are probably barred from access to flammable substances, I have an even simpler idea for you on how to relieve it.

The next time you happen to be near one of your friendly neighborhood Trader Joe's stores, go on in and flip them the bird. Tell them Zeke sent you. It's healthy, and you'll feel much better.

Ezekial Buchheit appears every Friday, and can be reached via e-mail at Ezekial.Buchheit@wildcat.arizona.edu.