Coworker: “My monitor doesn’t work.”
Me: “What did you do now?”
Coworker: “Nothing, I was just cleaning my desk.”
(I go over to his desk, and find the monitor power cord on the floor instead of connected to the monitor.)
Me: “Well, your monitor’s power is disconnected.”
Coworker: “Oh, yeah, I disconnected it. I didn’t like all the wires going through the wire hole!”
(I work at a call center. I enter the break room to make my lunch. Two of the administrative assistants are present.)
Coworker #1: *to me* “Hey, you. Did you notice the new bacon item in the vending machine?”
Me: “Yeah, it’s pretty good, but for a buck for .3 ounces, you’d be better off cooking your own at home.”
Coworker #2: “Wait, there’s bacon in the vending machine? Doesn’t it need to be cooked?”
Me: “No, it’s precooked. The vending guy just filled it again. There had been six, but now there’s only three left.”
Coworker #2: “But why would you buy it? Doesn’t it need to be cooked? It’s gotta be fake! How big is it?”
Me: “Less than a tablespoon.”
Coworker #2: “Well, I’d never buy it. I can’t eat carbs. Plus, bacon is the scraps of the cow.”
Me: “Bacon is pork, which is pig, and meat is protein.”
Coworker #2: “NO! Bacon is cow carbs!”
(I am a manager at a bookstore. This happens between a senior employee who’s worked for me for several years and a new hire hired by one of the other managers. I ask the employee to show the new hire how we re-shelve the books so that she can do it on her own in the future. Note: both women are on the petite side; the senior employee is particularly thin due to illness a few years ago.)
Senior Employee: *explaining to the new hire* “So, when books are left out or people decide at the counter they don’t want them we sort them onto these carts. It makes it easier to put them back so we’re not running all over trying to find their location.”
New Hire: *examines her nails* “Whatever. When’s my lunch?”
Senior Employee: “One, you just got here. Two, I don’t know. Three, I need you to pay attention, please.”
New Hire: “Whatever, fatty.”
(A nearby customer speaks up.)
Customer: *incredulously* “Did you just call her fat?!”
New Hire: *to the customer* “What’re you gonna do about it, loser? You waste your time reading books. I’m hot! I can get a man whenever I want, so I don’t need to read!”
Senior Employee: “Okay, sweetie… reality check. You work in a bookstore. I’m trying to show you how to do your job. Take this cart; we need to head to general fiction.”
(There are two general fiction carts, which the senior employee usually re-shelves by herself. The new hire takes the other cart but is clearly more interested in one of the male customers.)
New Hire: “Oh my God, that guy is so hot! He so wants me; I know it!”
Senior Employee: “Well, when you’re done doing your job for the day, if he’s still here, you can bother him then.”
New Hire: “You’re just jealous.”
Senior Employee: *sarcastically* “Oh, yes… so jealous of your attitude, your lack of awareness of how to treat other people, and horribly envious of your huge, undeserved ego.”
New Hire: “Just because you can use words I don’t know doesn’t make you better than me!”
Senior Employee: “I never said it did, dear. This section is all alphabetical. Please start re-shelving books, but make sure you put them in the right spot. I’m going to work on this cart. Let me know if you need any help.”
New Hire: *takes out her cell phone and starts texting* “Oh, h*** no! I’ll just watch you do it and I’ll figure it out next time. Besides, it won’t matter if these books aren’t on the shelf. Only losers read!”
(At this point the male customer the new hire was ogling speaks to the employee.)
Male Customer: “Hey I’m looking for a copy of Faust. Can you tell me where it is?”
Senior Employee: “von Goethe’s Faust, Marlowe, or the Murnau silent flick?”
New Hire: “Ugh, none of those people have anything to do with Faust! It’s a segment on a kid’s TV show with a dog!”
Male Customer: “Riiiiiight…” *to the employee* “von Goethe’s ‘Faust’. I have to read it for a college course in literature. Have you read it?”
Senior Employee: “I have! I know right where it is, too.” *starts to take the male customer to a copy of Faust*
New Hire: “I’M PRETTIER! MEN SHOULD BE INTERESTED IN ME!” *kicks over both carts of books*
(I fired her immediately.)
(I work at a famous pizza place that is designed for kids, complete with play tunnels, birthday parties, walk-around characters, and shows of singing animatronic characters every half hour. This takes place on a weekend, which are our busiest days.)
Me: *to a customer* “Hi, welcome to [Pizza Place]. What can I get for you today?”
(Suddenly, my coworker pushes me out of the way and proceeds to use my register to clock out for a break.)
Coworker: *to me* “Hey, ring me up a—”
Me: “Sorry, [Coworker] but, as you can see, I have a line here, and I’m the only one ringing up orders. Let me get this line down first, and then I’ll—”
Coworker: “Look, I just worked my first hour, so I’m getting a break. Ring me up my food before I tell the manager that you’re slacking off!”
Customer: “Hey, she’s doing her job here, and she’s doing a great job at it. You can wait your turn like everyone else! And I really doubt that your manager told you it’s okay to take your break now when there’s a rush like this.”
(To illustrate her point, the customer gestures to a line full of customers that is growing larger by the minute.)
Coworker: *turns beet red and rushes off*
Me: *to customer* “I’m sorry about that. Now, what can I get you?”
Customer: *shakes head* “There’s always at least one lazy person, no matter where you work!”
(I have been telling my coworkers that I’m going to visit my friend who is working at a steampunk festival the upcoming weekend. None of them know what steampunk is, so I explain it to them and show them pictures on my phone, citing a few of my favourite examples.)
Me: “My favourite was Steampunk X-Men. The guy playing Cyclops had a huge backpack covered in hand-wheels and steam tubes because in steampunk, it would need all that to contain his laser eyes.”
Coworker: “Oh, really? How did it work?”
Me: “Um, it was a costume.”
Coworker: “It was fake?!”
