I cremated a lady too soon (I’m a funeral director). Here’s how it went down:
You can’t cremate a person unless you have received a permit for that person to be cremated from the coroner/medical examiner office. Takes a few days to get one usually, and a licensed funeral director (me) has to sign the permit along with the coroner to make it valid.
So I met with the “Smith” family, the husband and two daughters of the deceased. The daughter wanted to see her mother again before cremation took place, so I set that up for 2 days later.
The next day was an extremely busy day, I was dealing with a very difficult family, among a million other things. I was on the phone getting yelled at by a guy over something that had nothing to do with us (the church he wanted to have his mother’s funeral at already had one scheduled for the day/time he wanted, so he was yelling at….ME, of all people) when the office secretary walks up and hand me a stack of permits to sign.
So, I am glancing though the files to make sure we have everything we need for me to sign these permits, with the phone to my ear, being called every name in the book. I sign the permits, the secretary takes them and faxes them to the crematory, the crematory cremates the bodies.
I literally sat straight up in bed at 1am the next morning because I realized my lady whose daughter was supposed to see her again was in that stack of permits.
I came in my boss at Hardee’s, the night manager. She got an abortion an because I didn’t have enough money to pay for it she took it out of my pay check.
I worked at a pizza place and one night the oven guy went rushing past and mumbled something about someone taking over on oven. So I went over and started cutting pizzas without really paying attention to what I as doing. Ten minutes later the oven guy comes back with his hand all bandaged up and blood all over his arm. He had cut his hand badly on the pizza knife and bled all over everything, but because the blood looked a little like grease and I wasn’t paying attention I continued cutting pizzas with the bloody knife and cutting board. Many people had human blood all over their pizzas and I didn’t have the balls to go own up and tell them.
I was managing Instagram for a young brand that was taken very seriously at my corporate company. Every piece of content we posted ran through at least four rounds of back and forth, down to the most minor retouching notes for what was meant to be a ‘casual’ shot. In a time of social media spontaneity and sharing content in the now, we did nothing of the sort and it was an absolute nightmare. One sunny afternoon, I was rummaging through my purse when I realized that I had left my Polly-O string cheese snack in there to marinate all morning long. I thought it would be hilarious to post the discovery on my personal account, bouncing the cheese against my desk for the full effect. I penned a witty little caption, clicked send and posted the video onto my account. Roughly four minutes later, checking back to see if anyone had replied to my story, I quite literally dropped my phone in horror. Not only had I posted to the brand’s account, but it was our debut story so Instagram SENT A NOTIFICATION TO ALL OF OUR FOLLOWERS TO COME CHECK IT OUT!!!!! After an immediate delete and a mild panic attack, a coworker talked me down from the situation. Her main piece of advice? If someone had seen it, I would’ve already known. Turns out she was right, and I never heard anything from anyone in the company about it. Long live The Great String Cheese Incident of 2016.
I used to work for a veterinarian and one of our tasks was to euthanize sick animals-just like any other vet’s office. The Veterinarian usually left this task up to the other technicians and myself, until one day we put the wrong dog to sleep. I still feel awful about it to this day. Both dogs were sick and both were poodles, and I was instructed to “go get the sick poodle ready for euthanasia…”
Accidentally deleted the company website.
This actually happened pretty recently, for background all you need to know is I’m a server and not the most observant at times. I was sat a table of three (a woman in her 40’s and her parents), I do my job, make some jokes, bring out their food, jadda jadda jadda… business as usual. It comes to the point where I need to start taking away the dirty dishes and as I’m taking away a plate a fork falls, I go to grab it reflexively as does the mother and we catch it midair. Impressed with how quick we both are the daughter makes a joke about our “ninja speed,” continuing the joke I say something along the lines of “horrible depth perception, amazing reflexes,” referring to myself. It is then at that point I realized the mother had only one eye. Fuck.
I sent the HR department terribly written erotica. Ok, so for context, I’ve been studying law for about a year, and my parents are super excited about this; even more so because my dad also studied law. They have no problem expressing how into it they are, like telling all their friends, getting me lots of books to read, and finding me an internship. This isn’t any internship, mind you, this is one of the biggest law firms in my country. My dad happens to be friends with two of the senior partners at this firm. The thing is I’ve had numerous jobs before, but this is the first time I’ve ever taken my parents’ help to find one, and I wouldn’t ordinarily take a job they got me, except it is a great firm & a great opportunity. I’m supposed to be starting work about two weeks from now, and I really just want to make my parents proud, or well at least not disappoint them. I’ve been emailing the HR department of this firm back and forth for the last few days, sending in my CV and finalizing the details of this internship. Earlier today, I was sent an email from the lady at the HR department, asking me to send my CV in a different format. So naturally I made the necessary changes as soon as I was told to, and was very keen on sending it back on time to show my promptness. In my hurry, and slight absentmindedness, I attached the last downloaded document and sent the email. In my ignorance, I turned my computer off and studied, as I have finals next week. About six hours later I turn my computer back on and check my email, and as soon as the page opens, all I can read is ‘highly unprofessional’. I knew exactly what I had done. So the previous day I found this terribly written piece of South Indian erotic literature. It was so obscene that I literally spent hours reading it and laughing yesterday. It was this ridiculous 9-page document that began with ” I am tired of masturbating hundreds of time thinking of you..” all the time, i was saying this, i was caressing her cunt through the saree And the descriptions get more and more hilarious. (I can post a link if requested.) It turns out I attached the wrong document. I am absolutely mortified, and don’t know what to do. After seeing their email reprimanding me for my unprofessional behavior, I replied with a sincere email apologising profusely, but I haven’t received a reply. The office (or at least the HR department) is now closed for the weekend. I just want to succumb to the cold embrace of death right now.
Sixteen years old, it’s my first job. Like first week on the first job. Now I’ve always been tiny, even for a girl. At the time I’m pretty sure I barely broke 110. My boss wants me to mop the floor before we close. no problemo. I go to get the mop and bucket and it’s the kind of industrial janitorial mop. Okay. It can’t be that heavy, right? I go to pick this thing up and uh. I miscalculated how much force it would need to lift it out of the bucket and I knocked one of the glass light covers off of the wall. It crashed to the floor and shattered and my manager just started DYING laughing. I wanted to sink into the floor.
I accidently lost a tab of acid in someone’s food one time. Didn’t realize it fell out and it landed in the food. Of course the food had already gone out so I just walked out the door and went home.