To give more information on this weird story, an employee in a supermarket was fired for eating a croquette. The Court found that this was common practice if the food was not going to be sold the next day. I’m just happy that justice was done and that their legal fees were paid.
Also, croquettes are delicious.
If the bakery was overproducing croquettes to make sure there were always leftovers to be tossed would be one thing. Assholish to fire him for eating one on its way to the dumpster.
I remember a similar case in Germany a few years ago, in which an employee had to clean up the table after a conference and ate one of the left-over food items (either a piece of cake or a sandwich/bread roll) that would have been tossed anyway and was fired. I don’t remember how that turned out.
Perhaps the policy was in place to discourage employees from over-producing to make sure something would be left for them to eat?
That’s probably the basis for the policy. That’s certainly what we were told at McDonald’s in 1980.
Croquettes are not the balls you hit when you play croquet?
This thread makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking.
I know that was the reason for the policy at a FF restaurant where I worked in the 80s- at first, we were allowed to take home food that was left at closing time , but that changed after people began frying a batch of chicken right before closing.
According to Scripture (1 Timothy 5:18): “You must not muzzle an ox to keep it from eating as it treads out the grain.”
Same when I was at Papa Ginos in the 80s, as a teen. We were not allowed to eat mistakes, orders not picked up, etc. because the assumption was that we would create these errors to get the free food.
Someone there DID discover, however, that you could stretch the pizza about 2" larger than it was supposed to be, and cut a strip out of the middle. People can be very creative.
I used to play chicken croquette. The best part was when they ended up right next to another chicken and you’d step on your chicken and hit it with mallet to send the other one flying. They certainly tasted a lot better and were much tender than those wooden balls.
My first job was washing pots at a small family-owned buffet restaurant. (The owner’s wife was the hostess, two of his daughter were waitresses, and his son was a busboy who was a real asshole.) When the place closed for the day the staff was allowed to take any of the leftover pies which couldn’t be kept for the next day. The old Black guy who ran the dishwasher always had first choice, but he used to slip me some of what he took. I think it was because I was a skinny teenager and he thought I needed them more than he did.