So, my dad and I went to the coffee shop one afternoon. It’s important to note that I always wear a Triforce necklace. After we took our orders, this happened:
Employee: Okay, then. I love your necklace, by the way.
Me: *grins*
Dad: *blankly stares because he doesn’t play Legend of Zelda*

(Over the summer, I worked at a clothing store for tween girls. Now, everything in the store is, always has been, and will likely always be 40%. The only time it isn’t is when there was a flash sale, where everything was 40% with an additional 20% off. We were quite proud of this sale, to the point of having large signs plastered everywhere loudly proclaiming: 40% OFF EVERYTHING IN THE STORE! And yet, every day…)

Customer: This 40% off sale, does it actually apply to everything?

(In the 1980s and 1990s, I work at the office of a naval architecture firm, whose main customer is the US Navy. As such, we usually hire a retired naval officer — a captain, usually — to be the office vice president. We recently had our last VP retire. His replacement is hired on, and is taking a tour of our office. My department boss is escorting him around.)

Boss: “This is our CAD draftsman, [My Name]. [My Name], can you show [New VP] your CAD capabilities?”

(I then show our new VP what types of output I can produce, from letter-size on a laser printer to 3-foot by 12½-foot drawings on a rather large and expensive electrostatic plotter. He “hmms” quite a bit, and I’m not sure if he’s fully getting what I’m saying.)

New VP: “So, if I had a drawing we needed input, I’d give it to you, and you’d put it through this scanner—” *indicating the plotter* “—and we could modify it from there?”

Me: “Actually, this is only a plotter. Any input would be done directly by me, using the digitizer pad and tracing, or reading the drawing and recreating it manually.”

New VP: “Oh…”

(Some weeks later, he’s guiding a potential customer through our office, and they’re standing by my area. I’m busy, so I don’t engage them, but I hear New VP describing how we can scan any large drawings through our scanner — again, he’s talking about the plotter. I interject.)

Me: “Actually, this is our electrostatic plotter, which can output drawings up to 12½ feet long.”

(The VP gives me a dirty look. About a month later, the VP and a customer come back shortly after lunch, holding a much-abused, old drawing.)

New VP: “[My Name], we need to have this old drawing redone according to new Navy drawing standards.”

Me: *looking at drawing* “Okay, I can do this. I take it this is the most legible copy we have.” *they nod* “It’s quite old; it looks like 1938 is the last update year. I’ll have to do some research on its references. Let me discuss this with [Department Boss] to figure out the schedule. My best turnaround time would be one to two weeks, depending on any other work that needs to be done.”

New VP: “One to two weeks?! We need this redone for a meeting this afternoon!”

Me: “Even if I rushed this, it’d still take two or three days.”

New VP: “Why can’t you put it into the scanner–” *again pointing at the plotter* “–and have the computer clean it up?”

(I’d never shown him anything like the computer “cleaning up” a drawing.)

Me: “Sir, this is still just an electrostatic plotter. It has no scanning capabilities. Any new drawing would have to be input manually.”

(The VP huffed away, with the customer remaining and looking confused. I found out later he went to my department boss and complained about my “misinformation” about my equipment. My boss came to me, told me of the complaint, and said he’d supported me. He had let [New VP] know that he had heard me describe my CAD station, and at no time had I said we had scanning capability. Also, he shouldn’t have such unrealistic expectations on updating a 50-year-old drawing. That VP only lasted about 18 months.)

(It is in the early 90s, before computer mouse pads are dime-a-dozen giveaways at conventions. My company’s office has two main departments: engineering — my department — and ship support. We’ve just installed Windows 3.0 on three of our department’s computers. We need mouse pads for them, so I write up a purchase order and buy three at an Apple store: a bright pink one for a female friend and coworker’s computer, and two blue ones for a male engineer and myself. They are $8 apiece. Soon after I buy them, my female friend’s duties are switched to the other department. She still uses the same computer and sits at the same desk, though. One morning, she comes in and her mouse pad that I bought is missing. I am a bit peeved, but I am not sure what to do but buy another. Before I do, I am walking around the office after hours that evening, and I see the missing mouse pad on her new boss’s desk. I walk in his cubicle, take it, and set it back on my friend’s desk. The next morning, my friend sees her mouse pad back, and thanks me for finding it. Word gets back to her new boss, and this exchange happens between us.)

Boss: *angrily* “[My Name], did you take something off of my desk last night?!”

Me: *innocently* “Like what?”

Boss: “A mouse pad!”

Me: “Hm… The only mouse pads we have in this department are that blue one on [Engineer]’s desk, this one on my desk, and the pink one on [Friend]’s desk.”

Boss: *inhales to begin a tirade* “…”

Me: “…all three of which were bought with–” *picking up a purchase order form* “–this purchase order, charged to engineering task number 3034, for use on these three engineering department computers, which were also bought with engineering contract funds.” *crosses arms and looks at my friend’s boss*

Boss: *breathes five or six heavy breaths at me, glaring, before walking away*

(I never hear another word about a missing mouse pad again.)

(In the 1980s, I worked for a marine engineering firm for 11 years, right out of college. I have a computer science degree, and my job basically evolves into dealing with all things technological: PCs, phone PBX, electrical, and electronic. This also includes changing the security code for the electronic door locks to our office suites. I do this on a yearly, scheduled basis, as well as sometimes when a staff member leaves our employ, willingly or not. On my last day at the office before moving on to a better-paying job, I get called to our office manager’s office.)

Me: “[Manager], you wanted to see me?”

Manager: “Yes. Could you please change the office suite door’s code to this?”

(My manager hands me a post-it note with a new four-digit code. It’s not the time of year that we usually change codes, so my curiosity is piqued.)

Me: “I understand changing the codes when someone who’s been here a while leaves, but you don’t usually ask that person to change it. That defeats the purpose.”

Manager: “Oh, it’s not because it’s your last day. It’s because it’s the last day for two of our on-site employees. But they don’t know yet, so, shhh.”

(It turns out that these employees told our manager that their customer didn’t like calls for them coming through their office phones, so they would need pagers; we could page them when we needed them to contact our office. What they were doing was telling their customer they were needed at the office; we at the office thought they were at the customer’s place. They would then spend the day goofing off — golfing, playing at the arcade, drinking, etc. Then, whenever either the office or the customer really needed them, they’d get paged. They could then call in to see where they were needed, with no one the wiser…. Until, obviously, they were caught and fired, the same day I left.)