A group of us are working on July 4^th again. It always seems to be our group scheduled for this holiday.

Coworker #1: “Man, I swear every year it’s the same thing. I don’t even get invited to barbecues anymore. Everyone just assumes I’ll be stuck here.”

Coworker #2: “Last year, I had to explain to a tourist that we don’t sell fireworks; we sell Band-Aids for people who bought them somewhere else. Well, this year we’re actually selling the fireworks. I’m not sure if that’s progress or not.”

Me: “I had a lady come in earlier and said it was ‘un-American’ that we didn’t offer a July 4th discount.”

Coworker #1: “Nope! We’re not even getting holiday pay for today.”

Me: “And she had to ask for a manager, of course.”

Coworker #2: “What did [Manager] say?”

Me: “He said, freedom isn’t free and it’s not discounted either. Patriots pay full price.”

Coworker #1: “Did it work?”

Me: “Nah. She said f*** being a patriot, she wants a discount.”

Coworker #1: “God Bless America.”

Working the holiday isn’t so bad when it’s with those two…

It’s the kind of slow late shift where time starts stretching and working takes a lull. Two colleagues are deep into a competitive flurry of dad jokes; today’s theme has become woodworking and carpentry for some reason. They’re not even pretending to do real work anymore. Everyone around them is trapped in a sawdust storm of puns.

Colleague #1: “Started a woodworking business. It was going okay… until it splintered.”

Colleague #2: “Mine chiseled into profits before it all plane-d out.”

Colleague #1: “Oak-ay, that was decent.”

Colleague #2: “Thanks, I polished it this morning.”

Colleague #1: “Well, I cedar effort.”

Colleague #2: “Stop before you make a mahogga-mess.”

By now, nearby colleagues are audibly groaning. One guy is mouthing “make it stop” at me.

Colleague #1: “I once dated a lumberjack. She logged all our dates.”

Colleague #2: “That relationship must’ve timber-nated.”

Suddenly, their manager appears behind them, silent like a well-oiled drawer slide. She’s giving them that deadly calm look bosses reserve for office-wide nonsense.

Manager: “Are you two quite finished?”

Colleague #1: “We’re doing teamwork! Just some cross-functional jointing.”

Manager: *Exhales slowly.* “Unless you’re about to table this conversation, I’ll be forced to chair a disciplinary.”

A silence falls across the office. Then a ripple of groans.

Colleague #1: “Okay, we can end it there. That was structurally sound.”

Colleague #2: “And elegantly finished.”

Manager: *Turning away, already walking, talking over her shoulder.* “Unlike those towers of unfiled invoices on your desks.”

I work in a superstore warehouse. We have one coworker who’s perfected the art of looking busy while accomplishing absolutely nothing. He’s gotten away with it so far because the rest of us – naïve idiots that we are – will cover for him as we just want to finish on time and go home.

Until a new manager comes on board, who releases a memo that individual warehouse aisles will be assigned to individual people. This coworker will no longer be able to hide behind the rest of us doing his job for him.

He’s also too lazy to read the memos, as is about to become very clear:

Manager: “Let’s make sure everything from [new shipment] is sorted before lunch.”

Me: “Got it.”

Coworker: “Yep, on it.”

Translation: I’ll cut open two boxes, take a lap, and disappear behind the breakroom door while everyone else does it.

Two hours later, I’ve sorted half a pallet. [Coworker]’s section? Still full, boxes mostly untouched.

Then the regional manager shows up unannounced for a walk-through.

Manager: “Let’s show him how organized we are in back.”

Coworker: *Rushing back to feign the appearance of looking busy.* “Why is this pile untouched?”

Me: “You mean your pile?”

Coworker: “You mean our pile?”

Me: “Didn’t you read the memo? Pallet stacks are assigned to individual workers now. That pile is all yours.”

Cue panic. Realizing his stack hasn’t moved, he rushes over and starts shuffling boxes frantically, not reading labels, not checking SKUs, just stacking to make it look neat. As the manager and regional manager turn the corner:

Coworker: “Totally under control here!”

He slaps the last box onto the pile just as the regional manager rounds the corner.

Manager: “[Coworker], did you sign off on this?”

Coworker: “Yep! Fully sorted.”

The regional manager raises an eyebrow, picks up the top box, clearly labeled ‘Frozen Goods – Freezer Aisle’. Inside are melted popsicles, on top of a pallet marked ‘Toaster Ovens’

Regional Manager: “So… you sorted frozen food into general appliances?”

Coworker: “…They, uh, might’ve been mislabeled.”

Manager: “They were stored in a freezer truck.”

I’m standing nearby with a clipboard, watching my coworker squirm as the manager turns to me.

Manager: “Did you handle your pallet?”

Me: “Yes, and I left the frozen goods in the actual freezer.”

My coworker starts muttering something about miscommunication. As he’s doing so, I start innocently tapping my pen on the large box labeled ‘Keep Frozen’ in two-inch red letters.

He was put on probation and was gone within two weeks. We were much more efficient without him.

I’m at the service desk with my coworker. He’s a good enough worker, but he has this annoying habit where he will make up a fake answer instead of admitting he doesn’t know something. 

A customer walks up to the desk with a small box.

Customer: “Hi. I picked this up yesterday. It’s missing the manual.”

My coworker glances at the box without opening it.

Coworker: “That model doesn’t come with a printed manual. You have to download it online.”

Customer: “It says ‘Quick Start Guide Included’ on the side.”

Coworker: “Right, but they stopped including that a while ago. It’s probably just outdated packaging.”

She nods slowly, then reaches into the box and pulls out… nothing. Then she flips the insert around, revealing an empty slot clearly labeled ‘Quick Start Guide.’

Customer: “Outdated packaging, huh?”

Coworker: “…maybe it fell out?”

Me: *Trying to help.* “We could check another box to be sure.”

Customer: *Smiles sweetly.* “I already did. Three of them. In your display aisle. Also, your website says the guide is only in the box. So… I guess I’d like one that actually has it.”

Coworker: *Finally nods.* “Okay. Yeah. I’ll go check the stockroom.”

She looks at me with a little half-smile.

Customer: “Don’t worry. I used to work retail, too. That’s why I brought evidence.”

I work in an office supply warehouse. It’s hour six of a long shift on a national holiday, and productivity has slowly eroded into chaos. I’m organizing a shipment of printer paper while my coworker is standing on a pallet, stacking reams of paper into a wall.

Coworker: “This is my Roman Empire. I will not rest until this wall of paper is perfect.”

Me: “You’ve stacked it five feet high. It’s paper, not a monument.”

Coworker: “It is a monument. To broken wrists and poor life choices.”

He starts humming the ‘Gladiator’ theme while placing a single ream of paper on top like a ceremonial brick. That’s when our supervisor walks in, also looking tired.

Supervisor: “What exactly are you two doing?”

Coworker: “History, [Supervisor].”

He stares for a long second and then sighs.

Supervisor: “Somewhere in the future is a safety video with a dramatization of what’s about to happen. I’ll make sure it uses your real names.”

He walks away, washing his hands of us.

Me: *To my coworker.* “You realize if this thing falls, it’s going on your tombstone as ‘Death by Paperwork.'”

Coworker: “At least I’ll go out doing what I loved.”

Me: “Ignoring actual tasks?”

Coworker: “You got it.”