Quit my job this morning.
I'd been planning to hand in my resignation letter during a full and frank but calm chat with chef this afternoon, giving him a week's notice and doing the honorable thing.
In fact, it all ended at ten to nine this morning with a huge screaming match in the middle of his shop in front of the other staff and a couple of customers. With me hurling the keys to his delivery van to the ground and screaming that I'd had enough of his f*&#ing job and his putain de bollockings, I'm off.
I find it quite cool that I did all my swearing in French, too.
And that, five minutes later, Mrs Chef called me up asking me to go back.
Ha! Up yer bum, Missus.
More details later.
Click here to make comments, rude or otherwise, on this stuff