In 2011, Joey La Neve DeFrancesco had been working in room service at a luxury hotel in Providence, Rhode Island, for nearly four years, whisking delicacies on demand to guests\u2019 rooms, when he reached breaking point. He was paid a measly $5.50 (\u00a34) an hour, made to work punishingly long shifts and, to top it off, had managers taking a cut of his hard-earned tips.<\/p>\n
The poor treatment ratcheted up after DeFrancesco and colleagues tried to unionise workers at the hotel. In response, managers would berate those involved for making tiny mistakes. Things got so petty that workers on shift who had to take calls from guests were banned from sitting down.<\/p>\n
DeFrancesco decided to call it quits. On the day he finally bid farewell, he snuck into the hotel\u2019s employee quarters with a seven-strong marching band and surprised his boss with a musical ambush. \u201cI\u2019m here to tell you that I\u2019m quitting,\u201d he said, before walking out to the triumphant soundtrack of his band in full swing and chanting \u201cJoey quits\u201d.<\/p>\n
DeFrancesco, who was 22 years old at the time, hastily organised a friend to film the encounter. After sitting on the video for a few days, he uploaded it to YouTube where it quickly went viral. Thirteen years on, the video<\/a> has amassed nearly 10m views.<\/p>\n Brassed off \u2026 Joey La Neve DeFrancesco quits his low-paid hotel job in 2011. Photograph: Youtube<\/p>\n \u201cWe really didn\u2019t think it was going to get much attention,\u201d says DeFrancesco. The 36-year-old labour organiser and musician, who lives in New York, says he felt \u201cliberated\u201d after he quit and turned the tables on his managers. \u201cNow I\u2019m going to embarrass you for treating everyone terribly here,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Did leaving in a viral blaze of glory hamper his ability to get another job? Not in the slightest. Soon after leaving, DeFrancesco began working in a museum. He says the incident has \u201chonestly never come up\u201d in job interviews since. In fact, he says it might be something to \u201cput on the r\u00e9sum\u00e9\u201d.<\/p>\n While DeFrancesco\u2019s tale holds a strong position in the job resignation hall of fame, it faces increasing competition from a new generation of workers leaving their jobs with viral aplomb. The phenomenon of revenge quitting, where frustrated or unhappy employees show how they really feel about their workplaces, is on the rise. Even clergymen are not immune to such temptations: in July, Father Pat Brennan provided<\/a> a \u201cparting gift\u201d to his congregation in the form of a poem that doubled up as a resignation letter, where he took aim at \u201cdisgruntled, unlikable\u201d parishioners who spread \u201cgossip\u201d from their \u201choly lips\u201d.<\/p>\n Parting gift \u2026 Father Pat Brennan\u2019s resignation letter. Photograph: Facebook<\/p>\n The employer-rating site Glassdoor warned<\/a> late last year that \u201ca wave of revenge quitting [is] on the horizon\u201d in 2025 amid falling employee satisfaction. In the UK, a survey of 2,008 workers released in July by the recruitment company Reed found that 15% of British employees had revenge quit their jobs. The firm\u2019s chair, James Reed reckons that social media was accelerating the trend<\/a> after a flurry of revenge quitters shared their stories online. Brianna Slaughter was one of them, with their video ending with the rallying cry: \u201cThese corporations will fire you in one day and leave you with nothing. If you want to leave, leave babe.\u201d<\/p>\n The 26-year-old American, who lives in Kyoto, Japan, was two hours away from teaching their next English class when they quit on the spot. For a while, things had been manageable, but everything changed with the arrival of a meddling new manager. \u201cIf I finished a lesson one minute early or one minute late, she would reprimand me,\u201d Slaughter says.<\/p>\n When Slaughter started the job, they had plenty of free time and their colleagues were mostly \u201cchill\u201d, but the cracks soon began to appear. They were paid 2,000 yen (\u00a310) per class, instead of an hourly wage, which meant having to stick around unpaid for hours between classes for a paltry paycheck. Schedules weren\u2019t handed out until the day before, making planning almost impossible. And the job was sedentary, which took a toll. \u201cI went to the doctor and they said, because you\u2019re sitting all the time, you have inflammation in your neck,\u201d Slaughter says.<\/p>\n Slaughter\u2019s breaking point came with the arrival of the new manager. She told Slaughter to wear long-sleeved tops to hide their apparently \u201coffensive tattoos\u201d and often sat in on classes, which, they say, made everyone feel \u201cawkward\u201d. It got to a point where Slaughter was crying every night. Last May, after receiving a measly paycheck of 100,000 yen (\u00a3500) for a month of \u201chardcore classroom teaching\u201d, enough was enough.<\/p>\n \u2018If you want to leave, leave babe\u2019 \u2026 Brianna Slaughter on TikTok. Photograph: TikTok<\/p>\n Slaughter sent a resignation letter to a higher-up, who \u201cbegged\u201d them to stay, before swiftly reminding them of the two-month notice period. In their TikTok video<\/a>, which has 1.2m views, Slaughter says they told their manager: \u201cTwo months? You\u2019re lucky if I give you fucking two weeks. I gave you two hours, babe. I\u2019m leaving now.\u201d<\/p>\n Far from stalling their career, their tale going viral opened up new possibilities. \u201cI made $7,000 on TikTok<\/a> the month I quit,\u201d says Slaughter, who has since made a living as a content creator, advising people interested in moving to Japan. Some even got in touch and said the video inspired them to say goodbye to their own toxic workplaces. \u201cThey said: I think I\u2019m going to quit my job too. This was my sign.\u201d For those still on the fence, Slaughter says: \u201cYou should have left yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n