Your best [RAGEQUIT]
 

While I doubt many of us come even close to this degree of awesome I am sure there are atleast a few stories that are interesting. So please share.

I'll start the ball rolling by setting the bar so low I'm sure your average teenager can surpass it. I have had two paycheck earning jobs ever. Only thing interesting is about how casual my departure was because of the stupid reason I left.

Manager "Cut your hair before you next come in"
Aerozord "...no"
Manager "Turn in your uniform at your convience"

My brother was more interesting. When he "quit" he just stopped showing up for work and assumed his boss got the hint

Not related to topic: Once, during a job interview, I got asked to cut my hair. I said no and they said I got the job.

EDIT: Another job interview related thing from another interview:
My annoying ex boss bitch "Do you enjoy working in an office environment?"
Me "I'd hardly speak of joy..."
My annoying ex boss bitch "Yes"
That one I got also.
I assume this is the opposite of a RAGEQUITTTT!!!

[JOKE]
 

Goddamn, another stupid thread like this? I'm tired of this shit. Fuck you guys, I'm outta here.

[brackets]
 

Here, let me help you.

Marching band for me was a misery and I actually left in the middle of practice once. I was considering walking off the field, but I decided to mess with them a bit and waited until they all took a snack break. I then walked home. It took them more than a half hour for them to realize I was gone, but by that time, I was taking a nap on the couch in the basement with the lights off, so when my third-shifter mom picked up the phone when my bitchy section leader called looking for me, she told her that I didn't seem to be there. I just waited out the rest of the time of practice and the time it normally took me to walk between home and the school, came upstairs, opened and closed the door, and went on as normal. Nobody ever figured out where I went and the next practice, just to mess with them, I acted like nothing had ever happened. They pretty much just gave up on me at that point.

You're my least favorite kind of person, bluesy.

What am I missing?
 

Reminds me of another thing: I used to play in a football team. Not like I ever liked it but my parents thought I would.

The other kids were mean to me and harassed me for being the fat kid. And one time they hit me on a bad day. So I told them to go fuck themselves in the most creative way a 13 year old could muster.
Which in my case was to just say something in German that equals... well "go fuck yourselves" but actually in a more literal translation would invite them to lick dried poo nuggets off my hairy ass, which is basically a slightly modified stock insult. Then I left for good. And that's why the English dub of my life is bad. Stick with the subs or learn German.

Because I'm such a rebel I refused to lose weight for a very long time. But I got over it eventually.

So, let me tell you about a sport called hockey. Back in Midget we played in the Edmonton hockey league even though we were from out of town(sort of) Now, the team was mostly filled with 2nd year players with a few first year players in the mix. Those Second years decided they no longer wanted to play hockey next year in Juniors. Though could have. We were getting sick and tired of the league and referee's showing blatant favourtism to the Edmonton teams. They seeded us at a lower division to piss of us, then realized the mistake when we were winning every game by 10-12 goals yet we were getting 20-30 Penalty minutes a game and getting players kicked out for stupid calls. So playoffs hit and they decided to bring the 3rd best team from the A division down to our B division to play for playoffs. Which was retarded. So we met in the finals and it was a 7-4 game for us after 2 even though we were getting the worst calls against us and they were getting more blatant as the game went on. 3rd period started and we got 4 penalties against us right away. The game was a 7-5 with 2 minutes to go when the veterans decided they were sick and tired of the refs and started pretty much a bench clearing brawl, that lasted 35 minutes. The second year players were banned from Hockey for the next year since they were determined to be the instigators of it, and for us first year players we got a 2-4 game suspension(I didn't have to serve mine cause I moved to Calgary and they didn't carry it over, HAHA).

We still won the game since they let us finish it. It was 8-6 in the end. It was awesome.

Trust me, with that band, no jury in the world would convict me. The teacher later went on to throw his two-legged stand and everything on it at the students during a concert practice, but I'd actually quit by that point.

All the hatred in the world over what I did in band is a delicious reward after dealing with that man for two years and being stuck for five in a section full of girls that were to him what Twilight fans are to Stephanie Meyer and bitchy to me even before we went to high school (in my district, junior high was grades 7-9).

Well, that was just one of the things I did before actually quitting the band entirely, but the rest of it was smaller stuff and not as satisfying. Like I said, that was the event that made my section give up on me, where before they still thought I could be salvaged (read: brainwashed into worshiping the teacher like everyone else via candy and group pep meetings). It also was the first time I actually grew a pair and did what I wanted concerning the matter, where I'd spent the previous four years getting pressured into staying in it and just eating shit by both my mom and my teachers because I had talent.


I guess a more appropriate rage quit would have been the next summer when I waited until the marching show was already written before telling them I wasn't signing up for the marching portion of band, then never showed up to summer practice even to check in, then dropped out of the rest of it on the first day of school. But that didn't feel as much like an accomplishment because it involved a lot more of not doing stuff and by that point I'd already done so much that nobody was even surprised anymore. The teacher probably popped the cork on a wine bottle and celebrated that he didn't have me around making him look bad anymore (which was really just retaliation for all the bull he tried to pull with me), and it was satisfying to completely infuriate all the band members who approached me over the next month or so to tell me how disappointed they were that I didn't have band spirit by telling them no, I didn't have band spirit, and how happy I was to be out of it and doing things I liked much better.

I guess that it does still give me warm fuzzies thinking about how many bridges I happily burned, but leaving in the middle of practice represented my first actual active break away from it and served as a springboard for a much longer process.





Edit: Mind you, it wasn't the clarinet or performing that I hated, just the people. Playing and performing were what kept me from telling my mom and everyone else off and leaving for so many years despite wanting to quit even before my first was over. The experience gave me such bad associations that after I finally was out in August 2004, I didn't put the thing back together and actually play it until just last month.