A former acquaintance of mine was always very hard up for cash, despite earning a good living. He was constantly trying to get me to lend him money until payday, promising that he’d pay me back with “10% interest”. I always politely refused, saying (with complete honesty) that I never lend people money.

One day, he was in very good spirits. Our city was going to host the Grey Cup (Canada’s version of the Super Bowl), and getting tickets to this event was like finding gold dust. His workplace had a free draw for two tickets to the game, and he’d won! 

Me: “Wow, that’s so lucky! I hope you have a great time.”

Acquaintance: “Oh, I’m not going to go. I don’t even like football.”

Me: “Huh?”

Acquaintance: “I only entered the draw on the off chance that I’d win free tickets. Do you have any idea how much I can get for these? I’ll make bank!”

Me: “That’s kinda shabby, dude. There are probably people in your company who’d hoped to win so that they could, y’know, attend the game.”

Acquaintance: “Yeah, so? They can still attend the game if they offer me the highest bid.”

Me: “You’re going to auction the tickets to your colleagues? Don’t you think they’ll resent you for that?”

Acquaintance: “Hey, they’re my tickets. I can do whatever I want with them.”

And off he went, convinced that he was going to make a fortune. Two days later, I ran into him again, and this time he was very glum.

Acquaintance: “Turns out you were right. My coworkers were really pissed that I was auctioning off the tickets.”

Me: “So, what are you going to do?”

Acquaintance: “They pretty much shamed me into giving them back, and they did a redraw. It’s not fair.”

Me: “I think you did the right thing, though.”

Acquaintance: “Whatever. Say, payday isn’t for a couple more days… any chance that you could—?”

Me: “Gotta go.”

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I worked at a video rental store years ago. One of the employees came into work before her shift, dressed in her uniform but wearing a mask, with her boyfriend who also wore a mask. They robbed the store at gunpoint and then left the store at a slow walk, holding hands.

They didn’t even make it a block away when the police caught up with them.

Employee: *To the police.* “How were the employees in the store so sure it was me?”

Apparently, she hadn’t realized that robbing a store you worked at, while in the uniform and name tag of said store, made you recognizable, despite a cheap mask.

I’ve always worked in engineering. As a woman in a male-dominated industry, it’s been tough, especially when I was new. But after several years in the company, I have more than proved myself capable, more so than many of my male or female coworkers.

During some office redecoration, I’m temporarily moved to the admin office. The women there seem friendly and are surprised to see a woman come from engineering — my nickname is unisex — and even more surprised that this is only a temporary move.

Woman: “You must prefer working like this, though? I mean, men are so aggressive and competitive.”

Me: “I mean, yes, they can be, but I’m pretty used to it. And, well, working with women can be pretty bad, too. In fact, I’ve had a few—”

Woman: *Not even listening to me* “You poor thing. They must treat you horribly.”

Me: “Err, no, not really. I mean, at the start, but I get along well with them.”

Woman: “Why don’t you transfer here? You would be far better to be with us.”

Me: “No, honestly, I love my job.”

Woman: *Patronisingly* “Of course, you do, dear, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Me: “Sure, I guess. I’ll think about it.”

I have no intention to do so. The fact that she wouldn’t even listen to me makes me even more sure. Her attitude is just as bad as some of the guys’ when I first started.

It gets worse when she and another woman go behind my back and lie that I want to transfer to their office. After I explain again that I don’t, everyone stops talking to me.

I get catty remarks and people stop talking when I get near. I hate it. I am over the moon when the redecoration finishes early.

Coworker: “Oh, hey, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

Me: “Not a moment too soon. Whatever mean remarks I might have said about you or the guys, I didn’t mean it.”

Coworker: “That bad?”

Me: “Hey, at least when guys fall out, you insult each other and get over it. I can’t stand office politics and cliques. It’s like being back in school.”

A full year later, the office lot still won’t even look at me. It must be exhausting being that petty.

I’m on my break, and I’m fixing my shoes that have started to come apart at the back. I’ve cleaned them and am applying the shoe glue when one of the younger guys comes up to me.

Coworker: “What’re you doing?”

Me: “Oh, fixing my shoes.”

Coworker: *Laughs* “What? Just buy new ones.”

Me: “These shoes cost £40; the glue costs £2. I’m going to try to fix them first.”

Coworker: “They are just going to fall apart again.”

Me: “Not in my experience. If done properly, the repair outlasts the shoe itself.”

Coworker: “Whatever you say, boomer.”

I am thirty-five!

Only a few weeks later, the same coworker sheepishly comes up to me to ask if I have the glue still.

Me: “I thought you just bought new shoes?”

Coworker: “Yeah, but… well, I thought about what you said, and you might be right.”

Me: “Was that your apology?”

Coworker: “No, this is. Sorry. Could you show me how to fix my shoe, please?”

I did it for him while he watched. Both his and my shoes seem to be lasting six months on. And I don’t get quite so many stupid comments from him.

I was at work when I saw a fellow coworker was just arriving, so I greeted him.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], what’s up?”

Coworker: “The direction opposite the pull of the weakest of the four fundamental forces within the vicinity in which the direction is referenced.”

Me: “Huh?”

Coworker: “You asked what up was, so I figured I’d explain for you.”

Me: “That’s what all that meant?”

Coworker: “Yep. I have a longer version that includes something about vectoral sums, but that was just too long.”

Me: *Sarcastically* “Oh, yes, obviously. You want to keep your answer nice and short like that first version.”

Coworker: “Exactly!”

For the record, I only managed to type out my coworker’s original answer by making him repeat it for me, slowly, as I was writing this.