Content Warning: Animal Death

Years ago, in the 1980s, I worked at a large hardware store. We had a break room with microwaves and fridges where people could put their food. It worked well until the inevitable food thief was hired.

The thief REALLY liked [Coworker]’s lunch because [Coworker]’s wife did the old-fashioned thing of making up his lunchbox for him. Every day, he had a hearty sandwich with meat and cheese, a piece of fruit, a bag of chips, and a soda. And almost every day, he would go to the fridge and find an empty lunchbox. He was a Korean War Marine veteran, and he absolutely ZERO tolerance and ZERO filter for this crap.

How did he deal with the thief? He caught a mouse, put it in the middle of his sandwich, and put it back in the fridge. His lunch only came up missing one more time.

A coworker’s behavior triggered an investigation where an external Human Resources lawyer was called in to evaluate if she would be in a managerial position. She was demoted but not fired as the company wouldn’t have a sales associate, which is problematic when you are trying to sell a company that involves sales. It was understood that she would probably not be asked to continue to work with the company after it was sold.

This takes place over text.

Me: “I am speaking with [HR Lawyer] today.”

Work Friend: “I’m sure it’s because you’re a manager now.”

Me: “She wanted to follow up about the hostile work environment complaint I filed. I said that, for the most part, it has been fine. [Demoted Coworker] has been a little aggressive at times, but it mostly sticks to email where I like it. I was diplomatic and said it has been an adjustment for her.”

Work Friend: “She stopped by [Other Coworker] and me today and said, ‘Ohhh, you’re in the office! How often will you be in?’ I said, ‘A couple of days a week.’ She said, ‘Ooh, really? That wasn’t because of me. I would have let you stay working from home.’”

I had to stop myself from wheezing because this was the same woman who made me come into the office every day during the global health crisis. It was just me in the office as everyone else’s managers were sane, but still.

While I’ve long understood the idea of privilege on an academic level, this is the story of how I really got it. It happened a few years ago when people were reporting random creepy clown sightings, and there was lots of talk of people wanting to react violently to any creepy clowns they might come across. I was sitting in the break room at work with two coworkers.

Coworker #1: “I’m volunteering at the haunted house exhibit near my home.”

Me: “What are you doing there?”

Coworker #1: “I’m a scary clown. It’s fun, and it’s really convenient because it’s only a half mile, so I can walk.”

Coworker #2: “You don’t walk home in your clown get-up, do you? Not in the dark?”

Coworker #1: “Of course I do. The makeup is hard to get off, and I don’t want to bother trying to change in the bathroom or something.”

Coworker #2: “But aren’t you worried someone will try to hurt you, with all those weird clown sightings?”

Coworker #1: *Truly baffled* “No, not at all. Why would I be worried about that? Oh, hey, my break’s over. Talk to you later.”

He left.

Coworker #2: “I can’t believe he’s not worried. I wouldn’t want to walk around at night dressed like that.”

Me: “Yeah, no way would I be comfortable with that.”

Then, it dawned on me.

Me: “Oh… Oh! He’s been six and a half feet tall since he was a teen, and he’s white. You and I are of average height, you’re black, and I’m a woman. He’s never had to look over his shoulder in a sketchy area.”

Coworker #2: “That’s got to be it. He’s never had to think about that, has he? I hope his confidence isn’t misplaced.”

Happily, [Coworker #1] was fine. It was certainly an eye-opening conversation for me.

A mom, dad, and two elementary-aged kids come into the ice cream shop where I work. I can’t help but overhear the following conversation.

Dad: “We’d like [lists three different ice creams].”

Coworker: “Anything else?”

Mom: “What do you have that is fat-free, sugar-free, and dairy-free?”

I can practically see my coworker’s brain stall and go blue-screen at the question. After a pause, she answers in a much more even tone than I would have managed.

Coworker: “Water.”

The mom frowns but doesn’t throw a fit. She also doesn’t order anything. When they are gone, I go over to talk to my coworker.

Me: “You know, [Diet Pop] also falls under that category.”

She took a deep breath and walked away from me. That question became a running joke for a long while.

I recently joined a new company as a software engineer. Following an upgrade to the version of the framework we use, we have had to update things we were working on to match the requirements of the new version. It’s trivial enough to do, so long as we catch all the instances where this is needed.

As it happens, I manage to miss one, as do the two colleagues who review and approve the code changes, which are then merged into the main branch. Happily, we are immediately alerted to the issue by the automated tests that run every time the main branch is updated, so the code doesn’t get released to the live product.

Since it’s such a small fix to implement, I work with a member of the IT infrastructure team to make the change directly to the main branch. He has the access; I know what changes need to be made.

We’re communicating via an Instant Messenger app.

Me: “You need to go into this file, to line [number].”

IT Guy: “Okay, found it.”

Me: “And now you need to change [text #1] to [text #2].”

IT Guy: “Yup, done.”

Me: “And that’s it — save the file and that’ll fix it.”

IT Guy: “Cool. It’ll take a while for the tests to run again. I’ll let you know if there are any issues.”

About ten minutes pass, and he messages again.

IT Guy: “Okay, all looks good!”

Me: “Great, thanks for your help. I’ll let the rest of the engineers know.”

A few minutes pass, and I’ve switched windows to work in a different program. Then, I get an IM notification.

IT Guy: “D**k!”

I’m pretty stunned. Sure, I made a mistake, but nothing came of it and it was a minor fix, resolved in less than thirty minutes. I tab back into the IM, perhaps wondering if the message was meant for someone else.

I then see that the message has been edited, with a follow-up.

IT Guy: “Sick!*”

IT Guy: “Whew, that was NOT a good typo to make!”