When a boss isn't willing to respect you in even the smallest of ways, it can make going to work each morning feel like a trek through the blazing gates of hell.

But what happens when you decide to turn that around, and leave in a blaze of glory?

Well, Reddit user watwasthat did just that.

This story was too good not to share.

I'm just out of college, working in a wings place as a cook.

I start working there, and everything is going okay, except for the fact that I'm really underpaid. I'm making minimum wage as 1 of 2 cooks in the restaurant.

I work there for a few months and the manager sits down to talk with me. We discuss a few things and I bring up the fact that I really deserve a raise. I was working 50-60 hours a week, and the compensation based on my effort really wasn't evening out. He basically told me to f*ck off and that cooks are a dime a dozen. So I told him I was disappointed with his retort.

Times were tough for me at that point, so I bit my lip and just went back to work. The next few months were hell. The manager of the restaurant openly put me down in front of other employees, and constantly berated me for asking for more money. He put me on back to back to back opening and closing shifts and sent people home on purpose, so that I'm the only one left to clean the kitchen at the end of the night. I begin to lose my chill with this job.

So finally super bowl Sunday rolls around and for those unaware, this is a very very busy day for restaurants that make wings. I get into work and everyone is already pissed. I ask what's up and they tell me the other cook didn't show up and nothing is prepped for the day. I roll up my sleeves and start working. We get everything set and I start making wings for the orders. I'm working my ass off and my manager comes up to me and starts giving me the same shit. The phones are ringing like crazy and honestly there are more orders than the restaurant can handle. It's f*cking chaos. Then some of the managers friends (not employees) come into the kitchen and start f*cking with all my stuff. Moving things, disorganizing stuff, sitting on my prep counters. I tell them to gtfo and my manager storms in and lays the f*ck into me. Tells me I'm a worthless piece of shit, I never do anything right, I'm not worth more than minimum wage and I never f*cking put in any extra effort.

That was it. My brained just clicked and I stopped giving a f*ck about anything. I stood up straight and stretched out my arms wide. Slowly took off my kitchen apron and removed my hat. Starred dead in the managers eyes and calmly but sternly said. "Have an enjoyable super bowl Sunday." I threw the the apron and my hat in the fry oil basins grabbed my bag and walked passed the rest of the employees who's mouth were hanging open and out the back to the ever fading ring of phones ringing. Arrived at my home and met up with my room mates.

I told them the story and we decided to order 200 wings and watch the game.

I bet that felt good!

Don't forget to share this article.

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