I was having a conversation with two of my coworkers. I can’t remember what exactly it was about or why I chose this word, but I remember the ending. It made me giggle.

Me: “Well, you could always pantomime it.”

Coworker #1: “I could do what?”

Me: “Pantomime it.”

Coworker #1: *Pauses* “What?”

Coworker #2: “Pantomime!”

Coworker #1: “Is that even a word? Are you two making this up?”

Me: “What? It’s a real word!”

Coworker #2: “It means to, like, pretend to do something. Like in charades.”

Coworker #1: “Oh… And it’s a real word? You’re not pulling my leg?”

Me: “Have you ever listened to Queen’s song The Show Must Go On? Or seen the movie Moulin Rouge? It’s used in a line in the song, even.”

Coworker #1: “You know I haven’t seen or listened to anything earlier than 2010!”

Coworker #2: “But it’s friggin Queen!“

I had to pull up my dictionary app to show him that it was, in fact, a real word.

At my job, there’s a regular customer who complains about everything. She’s gotten to the point where only the managers are allowed to deal with her. She’s actually a coworker’s sister, so she should know better or be banned. I go into work and overhear two coworkers talking about her.

Coworker #1: “I think [Customer] is going to be banned after this morning.”

Coworker #2: “Why? What did she do this time?”

Coworker #1: “She saw me drop the lid to her drink and threw a fit.”

Me: “Wait, she threw a fit because you dropped something? That’s stupid.”

Coworker #1: “No, she was complaining because I picked the lid up and put it on her drink.”

Coworker #2: “She used to work here; she knows the floor is clean.”

Me: “But you picked something up off the floor and put it on her drink, where customers could see you, and now you’re complaining about getting caught?” 

Coworker #1: “She’s a major b**** anyway.”

Coworker #2: “You wouldn’t believe what we’ve done to people’s drinks.”

I walked away at that point. I mentioned everything to the owner and nothing was done about it. Thankfully, I left that job.

The boss is working out of state to assist a different location, so my coworkers and I have to update a location log to show where he is. 

Coworker: “Is Montana ‘MT’?”

Me: “No, I’m pretty there are people somewhere in that state.”

My coworker cracked up laughing.

I am female. I normally have my hair in a short style — pixie cut or shorter. Part of the reason why is that my hair type quickly results in it being a knotted mess with the slightest breeze, and living coastal means we get a lot of breeze. With the current circumstances, I’ve not been able to go to the hairdressers, so my hair is now just above shoulder-length. For me, this is long.

We’re leaving the lockdown and hairdressers are threatening to open, so I’m talking excitedly to [Coworker #1], a woman in her late forties who has hair down to her lower back, about getting my hair cut when I can. [Coworker #2], a man in his late fifties, cuts in.

Coworker #2: “You should grow your hair out.”

Me: *Turning to him* “Oh, sorry?”

Coworker #2: “You’ll look much prettier with longer hair; you should grow it out.”

Me: “But I want short hair.”

Coworker #2: “But boys won’t like you if you have short hair. Girls should have long hair.”

Coworker #1: “She’s not a girl. She’s a woman.”

Coworker #2: “She’ll still turn off boys with short hair.”

Me: “Good. I don’t want to date boys, anyway. That would be gross. I want to date adults.”

Coworker #2: “I don’t mean little boys! I mean boys your age.”

Coworker #1: “They’re called men.”

Coworker #2: “They’re younger than us.”

Coworker #1: “They’re still called men.”

Coworker #2: “It’s the same thing. Anyway, don’t you think she should have long hair?”

Coworker #1: “I don’t think it matters what I think, as she didn’t actually ask for opinions on what haircut she should get. She knows what she’s getting, and at thirty, she knows she likes it.”

Coworker #2: *Huffs* “You’re gonna look like a boy if you do that.”

I roll my eyes.

Me: “I’m not continuing this with you. You have absolutely no say in my life and I’ve known you for a month.”

Coworker #2: *Yelling across the room* “Hey, [Co-Worker #3]”

[Coworker #3], a woman in her early twenties, has literally just entered the building. She always wears a cap.

Coworker #3: “What do you want?”

Coworker #2: *Gesturing to me* “Don’t you think she’d look better with long hair?” 

Coworker #3: *To me* “Do you want long hair?”

Me: “Nope. Gonna get a pixie.”

Coworker #3: “Sweet!”

Coworker #2: “She’s gonna look like a boy with that”

[Coworker #3] takes off her cap to reveal her freshly shaved head.

Coworker #3: “Guess my name is Kev now, hey!”

The health crisis has been going on for a year already and most companies have geared up to provide online training. Not all their departments have gotten the memo, apparently. 

The law demands that one of our workers attend safety training provided by the client company. The training department of the client company is okay with the worker viewing the course and answering the proficiency quiz online, BUT their concierge will not even consider processing the access request until they have received the course attendance form signed by the worker, who’s a thousand miles from our office and actually closer to the client site but does not have access to a printer, scanner, or fax. It’s a stall.

Coworker: “Wait, who’s the guy who needs to sign the form?”

Me: “Our [Worker].”

Coworker: “Oh, print the form and hand it here. My father’s name is [Name Similar To Worker’s] and I could forge his signature in middle school. How hard can this be?”

The forged signature was perfect, and the concierge accepted the faxed form. The work went smoothly after that.