I’m reminded of an incident decades ago that I can now tell now that most people involved have likely retired. My coworker has recently been promoted to be a client caseworker (the industry we’re in doesn’t matter), same as me. He’s very competitive and trying to be ‘number one’ in the office, which is a position I currently hold.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], where did you put the file for [Client] that I left here last night?”

Coworker: “I filed it.”

Me: “Why? I wasn’t done with it.”

Coworker: “I took care of the client and processed their case.”

Me: “You did what?! But they’re my client.”

Coworker: “Then you should have taken care of it instead of leaving early last night.”

Me: “I left at 8 PM last night.”

Coworker: “Well, now you need to work harder since I’m here.”

Me: “Fine, if having no work/life balance isn’t an issue for you. It’ll be nice to go home at 5 PM today.”

Coworker: “Whatever, be like that.”

Me: “I’m not that bothered.”

Coworker: “Pfft.”

Me: “But you seem to be bothered that I’m not bothered.”

Coworker: “Whatever. At least now I’m making more money than you!”

Me: “Good, since I’m clearly living rent-free in your head.”

Boss: *Walking past.* “[Coworker], don’t engage in a battle of wits when you’re so outgunned. Also, if I hear of you taking credit for someone else’s client-work in the future, you can go pack your things, capiche?”

He angrily silences himself, and we both go back to work. He quits within a month when he realizes he’s back to the number two spot despite putting in more hours (something to do with being too aggressive with his clients) and had a mini-meltdown over it.

One of my coworkers showed up late. My boss was prepared to write him up when he finally got here.

Boss: “Finally! What took you so long?”

Coworker: “My roommate, he, uh…”

Boss: *In an “Oh, I’ve gotta hear this” tone.* “He what?”

Coworker: “He… ate my pants.”

Quiet.

Boss: “…What?”

Coworker: “He ate my pants. Like, it sounds weird, right? Just me saying it out loud? He ate my pants. You know what, never mind, I can’t ask you to believe that. Forget I said anything.”

Boss: “Uh… sure.”

[Boss] wandered off without bothering to give him the write-up, and [Coworker] clocked in.

One of the BEST coworkers I ever had was always my section buddy. We worked in the deep South. I was a White woman; he was a Black man. Occasionally, we would get a sense that the table just ‘wasn’t feeling us’. For both of us, it would sometimes be our skin color or our gender. Sometimes, we just didn’t know.

We had a signal, and once we got weird vibes, we would simply explain to the table:

Me: “Oh, we’re just here to greet you. Your actual server [Coworker’s Name] will be right over. He’s with those lovely folks over there and didn’t want you to feel ignored, so he sent me to ask about drinks. What can I get you?”

It worked out for us SOOOO well because they were always happier to have an alternative and ended up tipping better than we would have gotten if we stuck with them.

Our manager at that restaurant would let us have more tables in our section than we would have had as individuals because she knew we worked as a team and split tips (no one made us, it just ended up working out for us after we tried it once).

We had a blast working together, never drama, always made bank, and neither of us slacked off, ever. I also trusted him, and he trusted me because we both got extra cash tips often, but split them with each other because neither of us was shady.

He was from Jamaica and was super hardworking and honest. The table of Black women I passed to him would love his accent, and the table of White men he threw back to me loved mine (I faked Southern when I had to).

Me: “I just had to explain to a customer that the ATM outside saying ‘Free Cash Withdrawals’ meant that we don’t charge them to withdraw their own cash, not that we will literally give them free cash. Tell me people aren’t that stupid?”

Coworker: “I once had a customer politely ask me “what aisle is the weefee on, and do we have any left?” It took me a second to figure out she was referring to the sign on our door advertising our free WiFi.”

Me: “What did she think the ‘weefee’ was?”

Coworker: “She didn’t care as long as it was free.”

A coworker has been on a call with a user for almost half an hour, trying to figure out why her computer isn’t powering up.

Coworker: “And you’re sure the outlet is working okay?”

Pause.

Coworker: “Wait, you have a space heater plugged into it too?”

Pause.

Coworker: “On the desk? Is it facing the computer?”

Pause.

Coworker: “Can you touch the back of the computer tower and feel if it’s hot?”

Pause.

Coworker: “Yes, the fact that it’s too hot to touch is indeed a problem.”

Pause.

Coworker: “Luckily, the solution is simple. The appropriate tool to repair any computer subjected to a space heater is a sledgehammer. Apply hammer to space heater until it is no longer a space heater.”