About To Start A Flame War

, , , , | Working | September 7, 2017

(I’m chatting with a coworker about the recent return of the television show, “Agents of SHIELD,” and the newest version of the superhero Ghost Rider. The office car enthusiast hears our discussion, and joins the conversation, mildly offended.)

Car Enthusiast: “Did I hear you say that motorcycles are cooler than muscle cars?”

Me: “No. I said a FLAMING motorcycle being driven by a DEMON with a flaming skull for a head is cooler than a FLAMING muscle car being driven by a DEMON with a flaming skull for a head.”

Car Enthusiast: “Oh.” *backs away slowly*

Locker-Room Misdirection

, , , | Working | September 7, 2017

(I’m getting ready for work, putting my things on my locker, when the personnel lady walks by me.)

Personnel: “You’re probably going to want to start cleaning out your locker.”

Me: *internally* “Why?! What do you know!?”

Personnel: “Because we just got a bunch of new seasonal employees, and you’ll probably have to share.”

Nursing Through The Generations

, , , | Working | September 6, 2017

(I am a sixteen-year-old girl, working part-time in a doctor’s office as a file clerk. This doctor has been practicing medicine for a very long time and in a multitude of different fields; he’s worked in the ER, on the hospital floors, and in the family practice I work in now. My mother and grandmother also worked at the same hospital at some point in time. One day, I pass out at work, and since the doctor thinks I shouldn’t drive, my coworkers call my parents to pick me up.)

Coworker: “Doctor, [My Name]’s mom and grandma are here. They were out shopping when we called them.”

Doctor: “Send them in, please. I’d like to go over her vitals with them before we send her to the emergency room.”

(My mom and grandma come in, and the doctor does a double take.)

Doctor: “[Mom]? [Grandma], MY FLOOR NURSE?”

(And that’s how he found out that my grandmother, my mother, and I all worked for him at different times! He never put it together because they have different surnames now than when they worked for him. At least he felt better leaving me in the hands of one of his former nurses!)

Accept The Result Magma-nimously

, , , , , , | Working | September 5, 2017

I was in a manager’s meeting. All the managers were new to their positions and were trying to learn their jobs as quickly as possible. Everyone had been working themselves ragged, as we had a company-wide audit coming up. The managers all got along very well, as we all liked to have a good time to lighten the seriousness of the work. Meetings lasted for hours, and because I can’t sit still to save my life, I was sitting on the floor. The meeting was wrapping up, as there was a meeting of the board of trustees shortly after ours. Thinking we had more time than we did, a coworker shouted, “The floor is lava!” Everyone in the room jumped to get off the floor, including me, but I was stopped, because a coworker and close friend decided to use me to keep off the floor.

An argument ensued, as she cheated in “killing” me to save herself. Everyone got involved in the argument. The trustees walked in to find everyone still standing or sitting on desks, chairs, counters, and me. No one really noticed until a very cliche throat-clearing was heard. Everyone looked over to see very professionally-dressed men and women in the doorway. Before they could even ask what was going on, I explained what had happened and how my coworker cheated. I then asked them to find a final ruling, as they were technically an impartial third party. The trustees (thankfully) found the situation hilarious and agreed to deliberate. After a few moments, they decided that my coworker had cheated, and because I had been murdered, I was now immune to lava, and in some superhero-like event I became the “Lava Master.”

A few weeks later, I got a manila envelope in my mailbox. Inside was a certificate stating that I was the “Lava Master,” making me immune to lava, and an Olympic style medal stating, “I am the Lava Master.” I framed the certificate and hung it in the offices, and I wear my medal all the time. My coworker still grumbles about the unfairness of the situation, and is constantly reminded she was the murderer that gave me my powers to begin with.

You’ve Broken Your Career Ceiling

, , , , | Working | September 2, 2017

(Our store warehouse has two floors. However, due to the size of the first floor, only people of a certain height are permitted to go up. All of this occurs on the radios we use talk to each other.)

Coworker: “Boss?”

Boss: “Yes?”

Coworker: “Umm, [Coworker] is stuck.”

Boss: “Stuck? How is he stuck?”

Coworker: “His head is in the ceiling.”

Boss: “WHAT?!”

Coworker: “[Supervisor] bet him that he couldn’t walk upstairs in the warehouse.”

Boss: “Of course he did… is he hurt?”

Coworker: “He’s laughing…”

Boss: “[My Name] and I will be right over.”

(Both [Coworker] and [Supervisor] were suspended without pay, and the entire first floor was stripped and moved to the ground floor. The first floor is now closed off, but people sneak in to take secret naps. Apparently, [Coworker] did get his money for winning the bet.)

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