(Over the office instant messaging system:)
Coworker: “My laptop is very big and heavy. Can I get a new one that is smaller?”
Me: “Sure thing! I just need your manager to send me an email requesting it, so that we have the paper trail in case the expense gets challenged.”
Coworker: “Really? Wow. That’s so much work. I’ll just keep the laptop I have now.”
Me: “O… kay… Have a nice afternoon?”
(Still not sure what part of requesting your manager to send me a single email qualifies as “so much work.”)
(I usually drive into work with a coworker of mine, and he lives around the corner from me, so he just walks to my house and I drive us both. Today he had an earlier start.)
Coworker: “I’m tired.”
Me: “Me, too. But I guess you started work earlier than me today.”
Coworker: “Yeah. And I stood outside your house like a creep.”
Me: *laughs* “What?”
Coworker: “I came in with [Other Coworker] and I didn’t want to have to explain where I live, and she knows where you live, so we just decided to meet at your house. So, I just stood at the end of your driveway at 6:45 in the morning.”
Me: “Ha! What would you have done if I was awake and I looked out the window to see how much snow there was, and just saw you hanging out in front of my house?”
Coworker: “Waved, I guess.”
(For context, I work in social services, and I deal with many families experiencing domestic violence. One morning, I am running late to a meeting and rush out the door of my office. Unfortunately for me, the handle jams and the door doesn’t open. I crash into it face first, hard, and end up with a nice goose egg on my forehead. By the time I get back for a previously scheduled meeting with my supervisor, I have a prominent, black-and-blue bruise above my right eye. My supervisor is, understandably, concerned when we meet.)
Supervisor: “Oh, my God! What happened to you?”
Me: “It’s fine. I just ran into a door.”
(My supervisor pauses and gives me a weird look.)
Supervisor: “Really?”
(It suddenly occurs to me that “ran into a door” is a stereotypical excuse used to cover up domestic violence, and is similar to one we might hear from a client.)
Me: “No, no! I really did run into a door, I swear!”
(I explain what happened that morning and we commiserate over my misfortune. Thankfully, this supervisor and I have been working together for a couple years and she knows I’m single, live alone, and am accident-prone, so the conversation didn’t get overly awkward. And I’m a little more careful with phrasing and explaining.)
(I have a particularly nasty coworker. His MO is b****ing until he gets what he wants; it usually works. One day he is phoning customer service for something. It’s on speakerphone. He calls and complains, they won’t help him, and he demands to talk with a supervisor. They put him on hold. A little while later, someone comes on.)
Supervisor: “I’m the supervisor. How may I help you?”
Coworker: *yelling* “I’ve been on hold for over an hour waiting for you a**holes!”
Supervisor: *in a perfectly calm voice* “Funny, my call timer shows you called six minutes ago.”
Coworker: *defeated* “Well, it felt like hours…”
(Caught at his own game!)
(We’re having a staff meeting during lunch break, and the topic changes to me suddenly.)
Employee: “I don’t understand why [My Name] gets to wear his pride bracelet when I can’t! It’s sexist. It’s just because I’m a woman, isn’t it?”
Manager: “No, it’s because your bracelet is completely black and has ‘C**t Destroyer’ on it, while [My Name]’s is just a rainbow!”
(HR had to get involved and decided, in fairness to everyone, that only watches, medical bracelets, and other items such as bronze for arthritis would be allowed. [Employee] walked around the office like she had won some great victory for women’s rights while the rest of the office grew contempt for her. I wasn’t too bothered; a few months later I bought a smartwatch and set the face to a rainbow.)
