You Can’t Be Citrus?

, , , , | | Working | May 28, 2019

(During a down-time at the lab where I volunteer as a research assistant, I glance at my coworker’s notes and computer screen.)

Me: “Is orange your favourite colour?”

Coworker #1: *looks up at me in confusion*

Me: “Well, you’re using orange highlighter on both your notes and on your computer.”

Coworker #1: “Oh, I think that’s the only colour that’s available for the highlighter on the program.”

Coworker #2: *pipes up* “Orange is my favourite colour. You know why? Nothing rhymes with it.”

Me: “Door-hinge.”

Coworker #2: “What?”

Me: “Door-hinge.”

Coworker #3: “Door-hinge rhymes with orange.”

Coworker #2: “Oh… Now I hate orange. Thanks a lot for ruining orange for me!”

Me: *shrugs* “Sorry. You could like silver. Or purple.”

Coworker #2: “I hate silver. Silver isn’t a colour. It’s just a very shiny grey.”

Me: *shrugs* “Okay. You could still like purple.”

Coworker #2: “Hmm… Purple is a nice colour.”

Me: “Purple is a very nice colour.”

Coworker #2: “Yeah… I never liked orange.”

TV And Dinners And Bisque, Oh My!

, , , , , | | Working | May 26, 2019

(I’m working in a call center that pays above minimum wage, but not by much. I’m an extremely frugal person, which serves me well in this job. My coworkers sometimes have a harder time with it. The following describes several conversations with one such coworker.)

Coworker #1: “Ooh, that smells good! What are you eating?”

Me: “Tomato-basil bisque with cornbread muffins.”

Coworker #1: “Wait, from [Expensive Restaurant]? How the h*** can you afford that?!”

Me: “No, I made it, from some tomatoes I canned up last summer. Only about fifty cents worth of ingredients, and it made about three quarts worth!”

Coworker #1: “D***, girl, nobody has time for crap like that!” *eats her $10 takeout meal*


Coworker #1: “Hey, did you see [TV Show] last night?”

Me: “No, I don’t watch much TV, sorry.”

Coworker #1: “WHAT?! What the h*** do you do with your time?! I’d be bored out of my mind.”

(Another day, she overhears me talking with another coworker about a good-quality grain-grinder I bought.)

Coworker #1: “How the h*** can you even afford that?!”

Me: “I’ve been saving up for it for two years now. I have a ton of wild grains growing in my backyard. If I can—“

Coworker #1: “Just buy your food like everyone else does!”

(Another day, I catch part of a conversation happening near my desk:)

Coworker #1: *in tears* “How can they evict me? It’s not my fault I didn’t have money for the rent! Our fridge broke down. Do you know how much it costs to eat restaurant food three times a day? What am I supposed to tell my little boy?”

Coworker #2: “Wait, didn’t your fridge break down months ago?”

Coworker #1: “Yeah, I couldn’t afford a new one! If I had a fridge, I’d have a place to keep TV dinners, and then we wouldn’t have to eat out every meal.”

Making You Tongue-Tied

, , , , , , , | | Hopeless | May 17, 2019

I’ve not long turned 19 and I’m working in a fast food restaurant full time while also about to start my second year of college. For the last month, I’ve been complaining of a sore tongue, thinking I have an ulcer, but it turns out to be a cancerous tumour. I’m eventually diagnosed with stage-four oral cancer and have to give up my place in college and work, meaning that while I’m stuck in a hospital bed I have no money to pay bills back at home. When I get home before my second leg of treatment starts, I get a visit from my store manager and the owner.

They hand me one of those massive cheques that are given during presentations, and written on it is my name and a larger sum of money than I have ever seen at any one time.

My coworkers and customers had been raising money for me all the time I was in the hospital — nine and a half weeks — during my operation and recovery.

It made all the bad shifts and horrible customers that had reduced me to tears so worth it.

We Know “Lotioning” Isn’t A Word But It Should Be

, , , , | | Working | May 15, 2019

(My department at work consists of mostly females, and that means I and the few guys working there are definitely the minority. I have been complaining to my wife over email that my skin is incredibly dry and I am getting itchy. She says when I get home she will get me some lotion to help. As I sit typing, I look down at my arm and realize I can’t wait that long; I have “crocodile skin.” One of the women I work with jokingly told me one time if I ever needed lotion to let her know because she has some at her desk. So, I decide to do just that. I approach her desk with my index fingers together like you see little kids do when they want something.)

Female Coworker #1: “Uh-oh, what did I do?”

Me: *laughs* “Absolutely nothing. Um… One time you and a few of the others jokingly said if I ever needed some lotion I could borrow some… May I?”

Female Coworker #1: “YES! I have… uh… this one which is [scent], this one which is [type], this one…”

Me: “I don’t care what it smells like; I have crocodile skin and it’s really bothering me!”

(She hands me one and I crack it open, putting some on my skin.)

Me: “Oh! I like this!”

Male Coworker #1: *popping up like a prairie dog from his desk* “Huh?! What? Lotion?”

Me: “Yeah, my skin was so dry!” *rubbing both hands up my arm coating myself in the “smell good” lotion*

Male Coworker #1: “Oh! Um… Can I have some?”

Female Coworker #2: “I have some! Want to try it?” *grabs a bottle and starts walking over*

Male Coworker #1: “That’s not the cinnamon stuff that makes everyone here sneeze, is it?”

Female Coworker #2: “No, it’s…” *smelling it* “Okay, it might be…”

Me: “Well, it’s peppermint from what I can tell.”

Male Coworker #1: “Okay… fine… I’ll take it!”

Male Coworker #2: “What are you guys doing?”

Me: “Lotioning.”

Male Coworker #1: “Yeah, figured since he’s going to moisten his skin, I would.”

Male Coworker #2: “Uh… What kind of lotion is it? I mean, you guys are smelling like lotion.”

([Male Coworker #2] is then given lotion by a third female coworker and starts applying it. All of this is going on directly outside the department director’s door. He pops out and sees the three of us guys and the three girls rubbing our skin with lotion and stares at us for a second.)

Department Director: “Dry skin?”

Me: “Yeah, it was bad.”

Department Director: “Carry on. Smells good in here!”

(The department director walked away and we all started laughing. It became known as the “Moistening” by everyone in our department, and they learned at least three guys in the office are secure enough to wear scented lotions for the sake of comfort.)

The Drugs Don’t Work

, , , , , , | | Friendly | May 13, 2019

(I work with a 15-year-old who thinks she knows everything. I get on with most of my coworkers, but as I am in my 20s and they are mostly teenagers, I don’t associate with them outside of work. They often go partying together.)

15-Year-Old: “What sort of drugs do you like?”

Me: “I’ve never done drugs.”

15-Year-Old: “Are you an idiot? How are you going to fit in and find friends if you don’t do what everyone else does?”

Me: “I have no interest in fitting in with anyone, and I have my own friends.”

15-Year-Old: “That’s just stupid. No wonder no one here ever invites you out. I’m sure some of the guys would take you out if you did drugs with them. You are always going to be alone if you don’t do what everyone else does.”

Me: “I got engaged without ever having to do drugs with anyone.”

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