A coworker told me this story. He was all alone, working at a detached post office. Essentially, he sold stamps, took in mail, and maintained the post office boxes. All of the management and supervisors worked at a larger post office a ten- or fifteen-minute drive away.

One day at work, he had a stroke. (Fortunately, it was a very mild one.) He called 911 (the emergency number in the United States). Then, he called over to the other office to tell them what had happened and that he would be leaving. The supervisor who took his call told him:

Supervisor: “Don’t get in the ambulance yet. I need you to stay there until I can get there.”

As you might imagine, he said no, and three minutes later when the ambulance got there, he locked the doors on his way out.

Management actually tried to write him up for “abandoning his workstation”. Fortunately, we have a very strong union, so that went nowhere. The manager in question was promoted a few weeks later.

I’m a freelance mapmaker who lives in the midwest of the US. I do much of my work remotely for clients on both coasts. I almost never meet in person; clients are able to email specs to me, and with a few emails or phone conversations, I know what they want.

I get a call from a woman at a local college. She wants me to make a map of their campus, and she has a particular style in mind — one that she has seen on a print brochure from another local college.

Me: “Just email me your current map and an example of the style you want, and I will be able to give you an estimate of time and charges.”

The client’s campus is about an hour away from me, and it’s not really worth the time and gas to drive there and back for a single map.

Client: “Oh, no. I really need to discuss this in person.”

I agree to meet her at 2:00 pm the next day. I arrive at her office a couple of minutes early. [Client] is not there, but the receptionist knows about the appointment and assures me that [Client] is also aware and will be right in.

By 2:15, [Client] has not appeared, so I tell the receptionist that I need to be on my way. Just as I stand up to leave, [Client] breezes in the door.

Client: “Are you my map girl?”

I am her age or older. I don’t say yes; I just tell her I’m [My Name]. She does not apologize for being late.

She pulls out the map of her campus and then shows me the style sample. It has three-dimensional rendered buildings, clearly something done by someone who works with architectural software.

Me: “That’s really nice, but that’s outside my area of expertise. I’d suggest that you contact the other college, find out who did their map, and talk to them about doing something similar for you.”

Client: “Oh, we did that already, but it was expensive. I was hoping you could do it for cheap.”

At that point, I told her I didn’t think I could help her, and I left.

Related:
Could’ve Been An Email

My first real job is at a local boutique which, at the time — the mid-1980s — is still a fairly busy, mostly decent chain. The store is divided up into areas designated by number. When we need an employee from a department somewhere, we do an overhead page using the area numbers: “Area #1 Girlswear to register #3,” for example.

When we page Area #2 seasonal, we normally replace “seasonal” with the actual season. One really busy winter’s day, we need a price check on a Christmas ornament, so the page goes out.

Page: “Area #2 Christmas to register #4, please. Area #2 Christmas to register #4.”

But after a couple of minutes — it is REALLY busy, and no one from the floor is able to make it up to the registers without being grabbed by another customer — the customer at the register says that it is okay and she’ll pay the price that rang up. So, we cancel the first page with a second one.

Page: “Cancel Christmas, please. Cancel Christmas.”

I swear, the entire store packed with holiday shoppers fell silent for at least ten seconds. The laughter lasted a bit longer, with some of the customers at the registers fervently agreeing.

This story made the national internal newsletter for the [Boutique] chain.

(While I love my job, it is very stressful and I couldn’t imagine being a manager or the theatre rep. My manager often threatens to promote me in a joking manner, which always gets a few laughs.)

Manager: “I don’t know what I want. Either coffee or food.”

Coworker: “Go for the caffeine, man.”

Manager: “Yeah, but I’m really hungry and only have time to grab one. So it’s either coffee or food. Maybe cake.”

Me: “Why not a—” *pauses for effect* “—coffee cake?”

Manager: *through laughter* “That’s IT! Promote her!”

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