rSlash - r/Maliciouscompliance I Got My Manager Fired By Obeying His Orders

Episode Date: June 27, 2021

r/Maliciouscompliance OP works at a hotel, and her job is to go through the hallways to collect all the dirty trays from leftover room service. OP's stupid manager decides to go on a power trip and orders OP to help him out instead of collecting trays. OP happily complies, causing dishes to pile up across the entire hotel. Eventually, high-level executives at the hotel notice that something is wrong, so they ask OP why she isn't doing her job. OP happily reports that her idiotic manager won't let her do what she's supposed to do. Say goodbye to your job, manager! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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posts from across Reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash malicious compliance where OP gets her manager fired. Our next word it posted from Tato Sandwich. This happened a few years ago when I worked at a 4 star hotel chain. There were a few of us who primarily worked in food service, and the breakfast shift was always a solo shift. One morning, as it was customary, I started doing my prep, folding napkins, setting up trays with pastries, etc. I just got finished with this when the duty manager, Primm, burst into the kitchen with

a dirty plate in his hand. He sees me and yells across the kitchen. What are you doing? It's so crazy out there that I have to help clear tables and you're back here? Get out there and help! I replied that I hadn't yet gone upstairs to collect all the trays that were left out overnight. But he yelled that if he, a manager, is clearing tables, then I had better help him regardless of if my job is in a different area. For the record, this guy, Prim, was a minis. Several different times, I had witnessed him yelling college girls' faces until they

cried. He would also routinely pick on anyone that was minimum wage floor staff. So I walk into the restaurant, and the supervisor, Jin, is at the door and sees me walk in. Jin knows that I should be collecting trays right now so that the hallways don't look like a war zone upstairs. She asked me if I did this and I said no. I said that Prim sent me out here to help because it's so busy. Jin said that really it's not very busy at all. That they don't need me and I should just go upstairs and collect the dirty trays. So I walked back to the kitchen but Prim is still standing there. What are you doing? I told you to go out there and help! I said I did go out there,

but Jin said they don't need me and told me to go collect the trays. Primm then accused me of going to Jin to ask if I could go collect trays to get out of helping. I told him, well, you can just go ask Jin yourself. This seemed to make him realize that I wasn't lying, but he still wasn't very happy. I am the duty manager. The manager. Jin is a supervisor. I'm higher up, so you do what I tell you to do. Go in there and help clear tables. I don't want to see you going up to collect trays. So I go back out to the restaurant, and Jin looks at me, confused.

I told her that Prem insisted that I help, and he won't let me go upstairs. I also said that, according to him, he outranks her. Chin just agrees, and assigns me an area where I can help out. Breakfast passes, and a couple of times I go out to do room service deliveries, and I come back without much issue. Breakfast ended at 10.30am. At this point, nobody had been upstairs and housekeeping will have been putting out dirty trays.

I get a call from the room service mobile that a housekeeping manager said that room floor has a dozen or so trays in the hall. I said, I'm sorry, but the duty manager has prioritized other areas at the moment and he said that I can't go up. I started doing my afternoon prep, polishing cutlery and the like. At noon I get another call, this time from the housekeeping stop manager. She tells me there's trays everywhere and I politely apologize and explain that my duty manager, Prim, used these exact words.

I do not want to see you going up to collect trays. She just accepts this without question and asks that I can help when I can. At 2pm, I get a call from the hotel's director of operations regarding the trace. At this point, there are trays in all the hallways on all seven floors, and the place looks filthy. Again, I politely explain the instructions that Prim gave me. The director accepts my explanation without further question, and he says that he'll look into it. 3pm arrives. I haven't heard a word from Prim, nor have I cleaned up the big thigh upstairs. My shift ends at

3.30, so my replacement arrives. I tell him what happened, and I apologize for the fact that he's going to have to collect all those trays. He just laughs and decides to leave all those trays there until someone else calls him to get him to come pick up the trays. Shortly after this incident, Prim left the company. Down in the comments, people are speculating what Prim stands for. Perhaps Premature ejaculator, or maybe Premadana. Another person speculates that maybe it's Premium Moron. Our next reddit post is from Disney CM. So a while back I worked at a theme park. This theme park has a ride where you go up in the sky and soar over various sites of the world. Anyway, I was the lead that day and it had been a rough day for the ride.

The ride was only operational for about one hour of the eight hours of the park was open. At this point in the story, our ride had been closed for about six hours. The line was closed, the doors were shut, and no wait time was posted. The exit for the ride is a long corridor, and unfortunately that ramp is wide open to anyone who feels like wandering back inside. This happened quite often during operation, usually a group saying that they had to leave their spot in line and they were trying to meet back up with family. That day, as I'm walking out of the broken ride, I happened to run into a family of four who was just kind of hanging out at the exit.

They clearly shouldn't have been down there, so I approached them. Hey guys, can I help you with anything? Yeah, we're trying to get back in line with grandma. She's holding our spot for us while we went to the bathroom. That's highly unlikely since we're closed. Oh, no, no. She's down here waiting for us while we went to the bathroom. That's highly unlikely since we're closed. Oh no no, she's down here waiting for us. Sorry guys, I'm gonna have to ask you to head back out to the exit. This guest mood immediately changes. Listen here you little turd. We've been waiting in line for hours for this ride. You will bring us to the line now. Oh yeah, sure let's go. I bring them down through the back entrance to the grouping area, opening the door to a load area with the TV off, the sound off, and the lights off. Clearly, this is not how it's supposed to look to guests. The man walks through, practically shoulder checking me as he walks past. Go ahead and find your grandma.

At this point, the guest clearly realizes his stupidity. Yeah, we've been closed for six hours. Bye! The guest just storms out bright red in the face. Plot twist. The grandma still stuck somewhere in that broken down ride, wandering through the halls like using some sort of Five Nights at Freddy Video Game. Our next Reddit post is from Pokey. So this is my grandmother's story. My family has been telling this tale for decades. My grandpa told this story to his daughter's fiance as a lesson to not underestimate his

new bride. Grandma told it slightly differently to my mom when she and my father were engaged. It's a lesson in be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. Personally, I've always thought that it was hilarious. My grandparents were very old school. Grandpa got a job working for John Deere as a teen and worked his way up the ladder to form and then manager. Grandma was a typical housewife in the 1950s and was held to typical housewife standards. She was supposed to cook, clean, and be prepared to entertain grandpa's co-workers at a moment's notice. It was her job to make sure the kids

were taken care of and that they never got in her husband's way. She was expected to have dinner on the table at 5.30 sharp when you got home from work. Both she and her house were to be impeccably kept at all times. They were progressive and well off enough that grandma had her own car. She was expected to use it to run household errands and take the four kids to appointments and such. It was important that her husband not be bothered with such things. The household and family were her responsibility while he had a job. Well, one day, Grandpa arrived home from work and not only was dinner not on the table, but Grandma wasn't even there.

The kids, who were teenagers at the time, hadn't been fed. Their homework was still on the kitchen table. There were unwashed issues in the sink and it does not other little chores that hadn't been done yet. Most importantly, Grandpa was inconvenienced. Grandpa had been home just long enough to let his frustration stew into anger when Grandma's carpooled in the drive.

He began shouting at her before she even had a chance to set down her purse or take off her jacket. He rancid about all the things that she hadn't done because she was out running around when she should have been home, taking care of the house and making his dinner. He worked very hard all day to provide for his family. Was it too much to ask for a hot dinner when he got home? Grandma had a very good reason for not being home, but he never let her tell it, accepting no excuses. She was a good wife,

so she intended to let him vent for a while, then she would serve him supper and explain what had gone wrong. Then, Grandpa screwed up. As it sometimes happens when we speak in anger, Grandpa began to blame the wrong thing for his irritation. He began to blame the car and Grandma's access to it. He said something to the effect of, He don't have any business out driving around anyway, you should be home. I should never have let you start driving in the first place. Women shouldn't drive. You don't want me to drive? Grandma asks calmly, retrieving her keys from her purse. Fine, then I'll never drive again, and she set those car keys on the counter, put her things away, and served dinner. And bless her heart, grandma stuck with that declaration no matter how much more difficult it made life.

Grandpa had to take the afternoons off in the middle of the week when a teacher scheduled a meeting. He didn't get a moment's peace on the weekend between grocery trips and taking the kids to activities, doctor appointments, haircuts, and buying clothes. He had to drive grandma to every Saturday salon appointment. Previously, grandma had taken herself in the kids' church, letting grandpa sleep. Now grandpa had to wake up early on Sundays to take them all himself. Grandpa was nearly a stubborn as his wife.

He held out, expecting her to apologize and ask for her keys back. But she never did. Instead, she simply rearranged the household schedule so that he could handle all the driving. Months later, after never getting a single week into relax, after having dinner pushed back nearly every day because he had to drive someone someplace, he finally gave in an apologized. He tried to tell her that he was wrong and that she should start driving again. He tried to tell her that he now appreciated all the things that she did to make his life easier.

He all but begged her to take those keys back. I suspect that grandma had always disliked driving because she never did take those keys back. Nothing Grandpa said or did could ever convince her to get back behind that wheel. He'd said that she had no business driving a, and she was going to hold him to that declaration, and no matter what. For over 50 years, until the day she died, grandma never drove a car again for any reason. Not after the kids graduated and moved out, not after grandpa retired. Even after grandpa's death in the 80s, she still refused, because my husband always said that women should drive.

Down in the comments, someone asked what was the reason my grandma was late that one time. O.P. replies, sadly, as with the start of most epic arguments between married people, the details of the triggering cause have been lost to time. Grandma, while telling the story 40 years later, recall that it had been one of those days for her. She had been making dinner and it was nearly ready when she discovered that she'd forgotten to buy something that seemed vital at the time. So she stepped out to fetch it and one thing led to another until a 10 minute trip turned into nearly two hours, including car trouble.

The only part that she actually recalled clearly was a flat tire and only because Grandpa had to take the car to the shop to have the tire repaired later that week. And he'd grumbled about how it was just another example of why women shouldn't be driving. Down in the comments, we have this story from Petty Clark. One of my favorite story of my parents is early in their marriage. My dad commented that my mom didn't iron shirts

as well as his mom did. Anyways, dad's been ironing his own shirts for 40-something years now. Our next reddit post is from Moon Sovery. Back in 2007, I was involved in a traffic accident on a ramp in Baltimore. Traffic went from the speed limit of 55 miles per hour to a dead stop around the curve of an exit in the space of 500 feet. And it had just started raining. Me and my Honda Accord managed to stop literal inches from the bumper of the person in front of me. I had enough time to have a sigh of relief before I was re-rended so hard that

the can of tea in my waist-level console cup holder wound up splattered all over my windshield. I got out of my car, and the person who hit me was literally crying blood. She was driving a Saturn that was at least a decade old, and the ancient airbag broke her nose and blacked both of her eyes. She's also crying for real, because this was her only transportation. I say, oh man, and I grab an umbrella out of my now weirdly shaped backseat and hold it over her while she sobs. She explained that her brakes had been locking up lately and she was literally on her

way to the mechanics. Then, she tried to text her boyfriend to pick her up. She's crying so hard that she dropped her phone twice, and then the cops show up. Baltimore cops are bastards, so he writes this girl a ticket about, failure to control speed to avoid an accident, and reckless endangerment, and half a dozen other BS things to where the ticket would literally cost more than a new car. And she might even get her license revoked her jail time. She's hysterical!

I talked to her, reassure her that it's not her fault, and manage to swap insurance info. Fast forward two months. I had mild whiplash, but I'm all healed up and mostly good regarding the accident. I have a new car and everything. I get a notice in the mail that I'm requested to be a witness for this poor girl's trial for her ticket. I don't have to show, but it would be nice. No way I was gonna let that cop roast her. I was asked to show up, so I'm taking a day off at work to show up. I turned up in court dressed in my civil servant best, and I even tossed on some makeup to impress the judge. I wait three hours for her hearing, because there's no way that I'm gonna accidentally be late.

The cop gives his testimony first, making up a bunch of BS about how recklessly she must have been driving to hit me, and an accident that he was probably 10 miles away from witnessing based on his response time. Then the judge calls me and I stand up. The cop has this weird expression, like a combination of surprise Pikachu and just being pissed, like he didn't expect me to show up. The poor girl was already crying and starts crying more. So I get to the stand to get sworn in. I tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So I said that we were both going exactly the speed limit. I know because I checked my speedometer and surprised if there wasn't more traffic. I said that she was following a proper distance behind me because I checked my

rearview mirror and she was a ways off. I said that it had just started raining after a dry week so the road was super greasy and I knew that because I'd almost slid into the car in front of me. I was only saved by my own car's ABS. I said that her wheels had locked because I heard the screech and I even saw the skid marks and that she definitely wasn't at fault because she was on her way to get her old car's ABS fixed. I also mentioned that the cop didn't show up until 20 minutes later. I know this sounds like a- and then everyone clapped moment, but the judge really did thank me for doing my civic duty and turning up.

Also, I got a quick hug from the poor girl after the judge's Mr. Charges. Down in the comments, we have this story from Eric Trumpfinger. The first and only accident I was in, I was re-arranged by a police officer. He was a rookie. Him and his sergeant left the scene of the accident for 15 minutes while I waited at the side of the road. Another person driving behind me saw the whole thing, pulled over, and chatted with me while we waited. He told me how reckless the officer was driving and how it was clearly his fault. I was lucky to be un-injured. He was driving way over the speed limit without his lights on, and I was at the top of a hill so he couldn't see me as he crested it.

The cops split us up after talking to him and sit him on his way. They asked me what happened, called me a liar when I told them and pinned the whole thing on me. When I asked if I could get the other witnesses info, they told me that it was against the law for them to share it. I was 19 years old, so I couldn't afford my insurance after they wrote me a ticket for careless driving, and I had to take the bus to work every day for two years. So, peel police department in 2008, as much as I have respect for first responders. I will never trust the cops again. And then beneath that we have this story from Sharkbait. My best friend was T-bone by a cop running a red light, no lights and no siren. He told of her vehicle and damaged the vehicle across the

intersection that her car was thrown into. It happened in front of two courthouses, and curiously, there was no footage from two traffic cams, his patrol cam or the body cam. That was our slash malicious compliance and if you like this content you can support this podcast for $4.99 a month. Also be sure to follow this podcast because I put out new reddit podcast episodes every single day.