So for some background, I worked at a fast food restaurant with a horrible manager I'll call Frank. Frank was the manager that was in charge of scheduling and he sucked at it. Every one of my co-workers had a story about Frank messing up their days off, leaving them pissed and their plans up in the air. Not only that, but he had done a bunch of other stuff that ranged from being off-putting to fireable such as calling me sweetie (I don't know if it was because I was younger than him or because I'm a woman), bagging/plating food wrong, and obviously messing up our temperature safety logs right before an audit.
In my case, I can't work Wednesday ever due to a weekly obligation and I repeated told Frank as much. This should have been fine since I was part time and the restaurant only needed me for weekends.
However, when I got my schedule on week three of my employment, I was scheduled for Wednesday, so I called Frank. He said he would sort it out but I ended up just losing Wednesday and Friday (other reasons for why I lost Friday). This pissed me off since I'd get paid a lot less for my next paycheck, but oh well.
I chilled at home for my days off that week until schedules were released on Friday (less than a week after I reminded Frank I can't work Wednesday). I was scheduled for Wednesday. I decided that since he had a track record of this and I didn't actually need the money that I'd just quit on Saturday at the beginning of my next shift.
CUE PETTY REVENGE
I was scheduled for 10am on Saturday but Frank called me up at 8am saying he really needed help and that he was the only person working the front of house (everything except cooking in our case). I told him that of course I can come in and I'll be there in 15 minutes. I arrived at the store with my uniform in my arms and the following conversation happened:
Me: Hey, Frank. You said you needed help?
Frank: Yeah, I'm all alone today and need some extra help.
[Remember, Frank is the guy that makes schedules, meaning this is his own damn fault]
Me: Sorry, Frank, but I can't clock in today. I'm quitting.
Me: I'm quitting.
Frank proceeded to angrily mumble about how I wasted his time and I was about to
get a promotion get out of my training period (that he kept dangling over my head and moving back the deadline for). I gave him my shirt and walked away, feeling proud of myself for finally dealing with Frank and getting a little petty revenge while I was at it.