(Our office is filled with IT people, which means we may be working odd hours or away from the office. As a result, we keep each other updated through email. One of my coworkers has worked late one night, and discovered her car had a flat tire. This is how she informed our office that she’d be late the next day:)

Coworker #1:
“A large metal rod has been found,
In between my car’s wheel and the ground.
Though the car’s not at fault,
The dramatic result,
Is the tire is no longer quite round.”

(I am the first to read the email. I feel I have to respond appropriately… in haiku.)

Me:
“When road debris strikes,
There is but one thing to do:
Curse the parking lot.”

(This opens the floodgates.)

Coworker #2:
“I feel for you and I believe you’re wronged,
And blame your car for wheels are not its strength.
I would go on in this same vein at length,
But on my desk my daily tasks are thronged.”

Coworker #3:
“Blame not the victim of dread circumstance,
Are you at fault should something prick your toe?
The tire is deflated enough by chance,
Puff it to round and watch [Name’s] best car go!”

(The CEO of our company then joins in, who is not to be outdone.)

CEO:
“The happy tire revolves the live-long day,
Never to give [Name] cause for slightest care,
But meeting rod, is punctured; losing air,
Becomes a cause of grief and great delay.

And now the tire that once was round and gay,
Is flat and [Name] must seek for quick repair.
She takes her car a new direction where,
She finds relief but fears the price to pay.

For tires purchased must installed be,
And lo the seller will total cost:
Not just for tire but all the special care,
To balance, mount plus tax, recycling fee…
Gives cause to ponder all that has been lost,
Not seeing rod in road and driving there.”

(Finally, after getting her tire fixed, the first coworker sends a short message.)

Coworker #1: “I pity my friends who work at ‘normal’ companies with ‘normal’ people.”

(I am a customer service representative for a big phone company.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Phone Company]! My name is [Name]! Is the phone number you’re calling in reference to [Phone Number]?

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Great! And how can I assist you today?”

Caller: “I am just calling to warn you. I have an army ready to take down [Phone Company].”

Me: “Uhm… okay. I’m sorry? Is there a problem I can help you resolve?”

Caller: “No! I don’t want your help. I know how you people are. You’re all after one thing. Money. You’ve charged my bill like crazy. ON. PURPOSE. We are going to take you down!”

Me: “I’m sorry that you’re having a billing issue sir. I’m sure I can fix it for you. I’m taking a look at your bill right now—”

Caller: “I don’t want your help! I have friends in the government!”

Me: “Sir, I’m not sure what the issue is. What can I do to help you?”

Caller: “Tell your boss. And your boss’s boss. I’m going to take you down! You think you can cheat me!?”

Me: “No… sir?”

Caller: *hangs up*

(I’m 23 and gay. Around the age of around 16, before I came out, I had a bisexual girlfriend. Although no longer together, we remain very close friends to this day. My step-dad, who doesn’t really understand sexuality, has met her for the first time.)

Step-Dad: *to my mum* “They seem to get along really well. Lots of hugging and cuddling.”

Mum: “Well, they were together for a good while and they are really good friends still. And [Former Girlfriend] is lovely. I still think of her as my adopted daughter.”

Me: “Yeah. In fairness, we know practically everything about each other. And, hey, we both enjoy a hug and cuddle with a cheesy film, we’re both a bit mental, and we both have a really daft sense of humour. All we really do when we get together is hug and giggle uncontrollably.”

Step-Dad: “So, if she’s bisexual, why don’t you get back together?”

Me: “Because I’m gay.”

Step-Dad: “Yeah. But she’s bisexual, isn’t she?”

Me: “Yes, but I’m not. I’m gay?”

Step-Dad: “So, does that matter?”

This story is part of the Bisexuality roundup!

Read the next Bisexuality roundup story!

Read the Bisexuality roundup!

(I work in a discount retailer. It is a few weeks after Christmas. All our Christmas merchandise had been marked down 90%. We have a rule that anyone returning Christmas clearance cannot just turn around and re-purchase it for the discounted price. They have to wait until it has been re-shelved. A customer comes in with a full cart.)

Customer: “I want to return these and repurchase them.”

Me: “You will have to wait for the merchandise to hit the floor before you can repurchase it.”

(The customer immediately starts yelling at me. I get a manager. Unfortunately, the manager on duty is something of a jerk.)

Manager: “You will have to process the return, and then resell the customer the merchandise.”

(Upon hearing this, the customer goes back outside. The customer returns with TWO MORE carts full of Christmas décor, with a total of FOUR different receipts the purchases were made on. After 20 minutes of trying to sort out which things were on which receipts, I go back to the manager’s office to see if I can get some help. As I try to explain the problem to my manager, the HEAD manager walks in. After hearing the situation, I get sent on an extra long break. My manager gets chewed out and sent back out to the floor.)

Head Manager: *to manager* “Start all over again if you have to. You started this. It’s all your problem!”

(Afterwards my manager was suspended for three days.)

(It is Halloween. Everyone is chattering excitedly. My English teacher waves to quiet us down. There is a journaling prompt on the board: ‘Write about something that scares you.’)

Teacher: “So, what did you guys write in your journals? What scares you guys?”

(A few people respond but most of us are silent.)

Teacher: “Let me see if I can give you some inspiration.”

(She then proceeds to pull up a photo of a scary clown. No one says anything.)

Teacher: “No? How about this?”

(She then pulls up a photo from ‘The Shining’ of the man sticking his head through the hole in the wall. Still it is silent.)

Teacher: “Really? Nobody? Okay. Last one.”

(The final image is an image of One Direction. Most of the students are boys or tomboyish girls.)

Class: *screams*