So I was 19 and working in a kitchen. All the old chefs had been fired and I was the only one left, the new chefs the owner had hired were very rude, they never called me by my name, they called me baldrick and said I had to earn my own name. I took this as banter but they were being serious.
One day I had an argument with the head chef over the way he was he speaking to me, we went outside and had a fat argument over the way he spoke to me, I also reported it to the owner of the restaurant who couldn't give two fucks and told me to just get on with my job. As punishment for arguing back the headchef told me I had to polish his boots when I came in every day for a week.
Now I had already decided what I was going to do at this point, the restaurant had spent a couple months promoting their 2 for 1 pizza weekend on social media as a way to get some custom back in, these were proper handmade, fresh pizzas, which no one else in the area was providing. So I came in on the Thursday and polished sirs boots, as clean as I could get them, of course.
Then came Friday, we had 400 people booked in for this 2 for 1 weekend, probably the busiest weekend i had ever seen there. I came in on the morning, polished sirs boots, of course. Then I prepped about 30 pizzas, enough to just cover the first 3 trays, just enough to get me through until service fully kicked off at 6pm. At about 5:30pm I said I was going for a cigarette, I ordered a taxi and went home and never went back. When I left there was about 4 pizzas left, they take like 4 hours to make so he had to cancel pizza on 2 for 1 pizza night that basically the whole town turned up for, they was not happy to say the least.