When I was 17, I was fired from a landscaping job that my father had gotten for me.
“Son, I just can’t use ya” were the words the guy used. Music to my ears. I hated that job.
Yep, at my first real job, for using the internet too much.
My boss said she needed to talk with me, took me to the HR area, and she sat me down and exp-lained their concern, where I violated company policy, and said, “And we feel this is serious enough to terminate your employment effective immediately.” She accompanied me to my cube, watched me load my stuff (and remembered to make sure I took the keychain she got for all of us when she was at a company conference in Hawai’i), and walked me to the door of the building. I left, and cried my way home.
In retrospect, it was a good thing - more options are open to me now.
WRS
My supervisor was hired to make the department more profitable, and one of his explicit duties was to get rid of half the people in it. I was the least senior person there, so I didn’t take the layoff too personally.
Since the new supervisor had only been there a couple of weeks, he didn’t realize that the way-cool portable stereo next to his desk was actually my property. He was a little unnerved to see me pack up “his” boom box while simultaneously asking about the severance package. Hee!
I had new job later that day, and a much higher-paying one later that week.
I was fired from an insurance company after working a week because they found out their biggest client was a sworn enemy of mine who said they would take their business elsewhere if I continued to work there.
The place had just had brand new expensive carpeting installed, and there was a mail slot in the door. Let’s just say my revenge involved several bottles of permanent black ink 
Wasn’t technically fired, but the words I heard were somewhat less comforting than “You’re fired.” I was a firefighter in a small Texas town, and one boring night, a friend dropped by the station. He told me that a mutual friend was having a backyard party a couple of blocks away from the sub-station where I was working, and persuaded me that it would be fun to hose them down. I borrowed a fire truck (an old reserve truck that hadn’t been used in years–I’m surprised it would even pump), and we drove over, parked outside the tall wooden fence, and gave them a quick shower. I was gone for ten minutes. When the friend found out who was behind it, she said it was just a joke, let’s let it go. The fire chief, however, who had always criticized me for not joining the whisky-drinking, deer-hunting, good-old-boys club, reacted differently. He sent a police cruiser out to pick me up, and in his office, told me that I had a choice: I could either resign, or be prosecuted for stealing a city vehicle, and go to prison. I thought about it for a nano-second, and said, “I quit.” Later, I went twenty miles down the road to a somewhat larger neighboring town, and got on at their fire department for almost twice the pay.
A couple of years after this, the fire chief of the first department, leaving a honky-tonk late one night, totally demolished his city vehicle against a tree. Tests confirmed that his veins contained something like 1% blood and 99% Johnny Walker. He didn’t get so much as a traffic ticket, but the city rewarded him with a new fire chief’s car. Small-town justice. I don’t miss that place.
Just gotta say, huh?! Was he annoyed that you would display any displeasure while on the job, or what? Sheesh.
My inference was that the manager would’ve been much happier to see the ticket-seller standing up instead of sitting down, especially since his wheelchar-bound mother was with him. Maybe I missed something.
Let’s see, my past firings - I was let go from a gas-jockey job for not being aggressive enough (yeah, I got a big ??? from that too), I was fired from a sales job, mostly because the co-owner was a huge, shrieking bitch, and I finally stood up to her, I was terminated from a temp job because I was talking with a co-worker too much (that one was my fault - in all fairness, though, I saw other employees doing the same and worse, and no one seemed to mind), and I was released from a secretary job because I didn’t want to work the phones (when I was hired, I asked specifically about doing phone work, and was assured it wasn’t part of my duties). Never got a “You’re fired!” yelled at me - it was always very polite and all “We’re sorry, but you’re not working out…” Except for the temp job - they left a message on my answering machine to not come in tomorrow. Some of the people firing me were obviously sorry about it, others couldn’t have cared less; some took it harder than I did, and were just about in tears before I left.
I realize this isn’t about getting fired, but I thought I would add my two cents for employee justice.
In the seventies during the gas shortage I worked at a gas station in Cambridge Mass. I was 17 and the lines were so long I never got a break. Being a small girl pumping gas was a novelty. Girls just didn’t do that. Well the manager thought just because I was young and blonde that I was stupid too. My first week there he told me I was short money every day and that I had to give some of my paycheck to him to cover it. Well, I knew he was scamming me for his Friday night drinking binges. But I really needed the job, I had no car and it was on the corner of my street. So I waited until I bought a really cheap car and added up every dime he took from me.
On a particularly busy day when the temps had reached over 90, only two of us manning the pumps, and the monkey suit had gotten too hot for me, I went into the ladies room, counted out all the money they had taken over the weeks from the money I had collected at the pumps. I also figured in the money they owed me from that week. I took off the suit, walked into the office and handed them what was left and quit right there in the middle of the long lines. There was no way they could count me out without closing down the station.
He called me about a week later and told me he was going to take me to court. I told him sure, go ahead. I would love to tell them how you stole money from me every week. He cursed me to high heaven and I never heard from him again.
By the way, I am fired regularly and it took a little getting used to. I work as a temp. I consider it contract work and get unemployment when I am not working. I have actually learned to like it. When they take me into the office on Friday I know what is going to happen. Time for a vacation! It is funny though, I have worked my way up to double my original salary. The key is attitude. Know that the next job will be a better one or find some way to get a grant and go to school nights. Just being on unemployment qualifies you for the Pell and some states such as Massachusetts covers the remainder of what the Pell doesn’t if you are unemployed. Then when you go back to work it is already paid for for the year.
I got my Bachelor’s degree this way. My last year of college they gave me $20,000 and unemployment for the whole year to go to a private University! My taxes put to good use I’ll say.
So getting fired or laid off can actually be a good thing if you look at it like I did and do a little leg work.
I got fired from my very first job when I was seventeen. It was at a drive-in movie theater, and I worked there in May. It was coming up on my graduation weekend, with the actual ceremony on Saturday and Baccalaureate on Friday night.
The week before, I kept telling my manager I needed to discuss my hours for the weekend because I needed some days off. He kept blowing me off and saying he’d discuss it with me later. Well finally my friend (who also worked there and was graduating with me) got to talk to him about our hours, and she told me we had the weekend off.
I took that to mean both Friday and Saturday night, but it turned out no, he just meant Saturday night. He was so mad at me for not coming in Friday night, that he fired me, only he never told me I was fired, I found out from the other people who worked there. The only time I ever talked to him again was when I called a couple weeks later to ask for my paycheck.
When I was 18, I was fired from one of my first jobs (in a Mister Donut), for letting my hair grow too long.
When I made my weekly call to the manager to get my hours, he replied that there were none. I asked why, and he hemmed and hawed and said, “Cuz you don’t have a job”. I said, “Is it my hair?”, and he said yes. I had cut it considerably at his requirement when I got hired, and it had never been discussed how long was acceptable.
Boy, it really dates me to tell that story (it took place in 1978), and it seems to amaze younger people that
a) Anyone ever paid that much attention to the length of men’s hair; and
b) It’s never been against the law to fire a man because his hair is too long.
I’m guessing a legal protection would apply if there’s a religious reason to have long hair, but I didn’t have one – I was just a dumb metalhead.
Never been fired myself, but I’ve witnessed several firings.
The most interesting was when I was the supervisor of a small construction crew. There were four such crews working for one “Big Boss”. One of the other supervisors, “Ray”, had this tiny little drinking problem. Actually, it was a serious drinking problem.
One morning the big boss called and told me to return to the office from my job site, and be there at 9:45 sharp. As returning from a job site during the work day was un-heard of, I was wondering “WTF?”.
It turned out that he wanted me to witness what was going to happen when Ray came in at 10:00.
I sat there and said nothing while he described several of Ray’s failings. Then Ray asked if he was going to be fired because his crew had been screwing up. Big Boss replied: “No, Ray. You’re getting fired because you’re a goddammed drunk.”
That was pretty shocking to me. Anyway, Ray went and got some help and wound up working elsewhere after a time, so I guess it worked out for him.
The worse thing I’ve ever had to do was several years later, in a subsequent life and different type job. Three co-workers (a supervisor and two assistants)hadn’t been doing their job, had been cheating on time and attendance, etc. and got fired. After they were gone, I took over their office and had to address issues and clean up their mess.
Now, I had worked with these people and liked them personally. The supervisor had been to my house for dinner and socalizing.
After they got fired they filed complaints. I had to go testify about how they’d been cheating and failing to perform. Try sitting at a table with people that have been your friends sitting across from you, and hanging out all their dirty laundry for a legal review. NOT fun!
He thought I was being openly disrespectful and insubordinate in front of his mom and wife. I’m sure he didn’t realize my feet actually did hurt, and thought his intent was pretty clear. And if my feet hadn’t, in fact, hurt quite a bit, I probably would have caught on and hopped off the ticket box right away. I’ll never understand why he stayed pissed for a year, especially after it was explained to him. In the end, I win. I got fired from a cool summer job, but that was all it was. He’s spent his whole life as a complete putz.
I was laid off (not “fired” per se) from my first job post grad school. I was 23.
I was called into my manager’s office and saw he was sitting there with our HR generalist, so I knew something was up. They discussed the bad times our division was having, how I had the least seniority, and I was expecting what was coming next. But then my manager (who was from the UK) said “so we’ve had to make your position redundant.”
Huh? I had no clue what that meant. My position was being “made redundant?” Did that mean they were firing me or cloning me? It wasn’t till they started discussing severance that I realized, alas, that it wasn’t the cloning.
I was fired from my last job. Although I was shocked for about five minutes (I’d never been fired before), I was almost immediately overjoyed - I never have to go back there again!!!
It wasn’t like the movies. The HR guy and my superior took me aside to say that as of that day I was no longer an employee. I think the HR guy felt pretty bad about it, he liked me. I absolutely hated everyone in the office and I hated being there and my attitude showed, I guess. I didn’t work as hard as I should and I screwed around on the internet too much. Of course, maybe if they had not been a bunch of assholes, maybe I would have been a better worker bee.
I was unemployed for two months. I’ve been at my new job for a little over a month. It’s the same job, really, just at a different company, but so far I’m liking it sooo much better.