I am in a role that requires imaging and building systems. Thankfully, we use a commercial product that is able to network boot systems, lay down a baseline operating system, and then install software packages, updates, configuration files, corporate settings, etc. It works quite well after I spend some time with the product, and on average, a complete system build can be completed in forty-five minutes to an hour.

A few tweaks for the individual users are needed afterward, but these take about five to ten minutes and work nearly automatically. A desktop tech can set up the build process, click “GO”, and watch and wait for the system to complete while answering email, getting coffee, or whatever. They build a few dozen systems daily. I work with the server and system build team and have little to do or nothing to do with delivering systems to actual users; that is desktop support.

A few months go by, and a manager for the desktop support group faces criticism that her group takes much too long to get systems to users. Sometimes this is a few days, but sometimes it’s a week or more. I’ve heard complaints from [Manager]’s staff they’ve been forbidden to deploy ANY system to ANY user prior to either [Manager] or her assistant having a look at the systems and reviewing them for approval. This is where the days-long delays stems from.

This, of course, makes NO SENSE WHATSOEVER since each system is built using the EXACT SAME process and they are identical except for hostnames and serial numbers. It is like insisting that every individual muffin from a bakery face inspection before hitting the shelf.

This manager doesn’t face criticism very well and refuses to acknowledge that her individual approval is a waste of time and needlessly repetitive, so she blames the build process for taking too long.

Uhh, what the f***? The build takes less than an hour, and a single technician can do about six simultaneously.

So, of course, a meeting is called to see what (if anything) can be done to “speed up the build process” and reduce the delays being complained about. As the meeting starts, I mention:

Me: “I’ve brought a laptop and have hooked it into a projector so we can all witness the build process, and we all can actually watch it run while we talk. I’ve brought a stopwatch, as well.”

[Manager] goes into a diatribe about customer service, improving processes, collaboration between teams, yadda, yadda, yadda, while people keep glancing at the projected build process flying by without my touching a thing.

This is where it gets… weird. After nearly thirty minutes of [Manager] rambling, I’m finally allowed to pose a question.

Me: *Politely* “Excuse me, [Manager], but where did you get the idea that the build process was to blame? What was the impetus of the idea that the automatic build took too long and is the cause of these delays?”

Almost on cue, the laptop going through the build reboots to finish off the last few installations and does a system chime — bing! — showing it is restarting.

Manager: *Startled* “What was that?!”

Me: “That was the laptop finishing off the build. Oh, by the way, according to my stopwatch, we are about thirty-three minutes into the meeting, and I started the process at the beginning.”

For some reason, [Manager] is livid.

Manager: “Why are you using obscene language?!”

Everyone in the meeting goes silent and turns toward [Manager], quizzical looks on all their faces. I pause, not sure what the h*** she is talking about.

Me: “Excuse me, what obscene language?”

Manager: “I’m not going to repeat it, but I’m sure everyone else heard you.”

Everyone starts looking at each other and again back to [Manager].

Me: *As politely as I can* “[Manager], I’m not quite sure what language you’re referring to, but as we can all see, the system build is nearly done. We’re not quite forty minutes into the meeting according to the stopwatch. Every system is built using the same process, so could we possibly reconsider the necessity to review every system before it goes out to staff?”

After some time, [Manager] relents that she’ll reduce the reviews to one system a week to “make sure we’re building the systems right.” Her comment about language seems to fade.

A day later, I’m pulled into my boss’s office and told I am being cited for using “inappropriate language” during the previous meeting. I’m shocked.

Me: “What language? Can anyone tell me what I said that was inappropriate?!”

Boss: “[Manager] stated that you thought her idea was without merit and that you used a ‘sexual innuendo’ to get a reaction.”

Me: “What ‘sexual innuendo’?!”

Boss: *Coughs and mutters* “She said that you said her idea was ‘impotent’.”

My jaw drops.

Me: *Carefully* “Exactly what I said was, ‘What was the impetus of the idea…’”

My boss closes his eyes and shakes his head.

Boss: “Okay, let me just confirm with someone else at the meeting and we can put this to rest.”

A day later, my boss confirms what I actually asked about in the meeting. He ends up having to have a polite, but rather awkward, conversation with [Manager] on vocabulary. He approaches me afterward.

Boss: “Please use simpler words when dealing with [Manager], okay?”

I am serving a customer at the checkout. She is a completely reasonable-looking woman in her fifties.

Me: “How was your shopping experience today?”

Customer: “Everything went great!”

She then adds:

Customer: “Except… it was a little cold in that aisle.”

She says this while motioning to the frozen food aisle. I laugh, because there is no way she isn’t joking.

She isn’t joking.

She storms off and launches the same complaint at the next cashier who, having seen the whole thing, is fighting back her own laughter. The other cashier does her best to sincerely apologize, and the woman exclaims, much more loudly than necessary:

Customer: “Thank you! All he did was laugh at me!”

She left, and everyone laughed at her.

I live in British Columbia. A few years ago, our two sales taxes were combined to transition from 5% and 7% to a tidy 12%. People started moaning about it because you ended up having to pay more tax on food services, but most other products you bought weren’t affected by this change, as you were still paying 12%. But the people just didn’t like it because twelve is a larger number than five and seven combined.

I am working in a big box electronics store, which is in no way affected by the tax change, and a customer comes in.

Customer: “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I want a TV, but there’s no way in h*** I’m paying that bulls*** HST!”

HST is the Harmonized Sales Tax.

Me: “For you, sir, I can waive that 12% HST and run it through with the old taxes of 5% GST and 7% PST.”

Customer: “D*** right!”

He bought a $2,000 TV, thinking he was making off like a bandit.

The public library I work at has a very large selection of cookbooks. It’s a popular section, even with the availability of recipes online. I’m shelving books when I hear this exchange between a dad and his very young son in the next aisle.

Dad: “All right, kiddo, if we’re gonna start learning to cook together, we need to find a book with recipes we want to try.”

Son: “How about this one?!”

Dad: “Why don’t we decide what we want for dinner first and then pick a book about that?”

Son: “Okay… This one!”

Dad: “Hmm… I don’t know. I’m pretty sure you just picked that because of the cover.”

Son: “But it looks so goooooooood!”

Dad: “It’s sushi. Do you want sushi for dinner?”

Son: “Yes! I want sushi!”

Dad: “So you know what sushi is?”

Son: “Umm… no?”

Dad: “It’s raw fish.”

The son is very quiet for several seconds, before whispering:

Son: “I don’t want sushi.”

I was driving along a motorway and noticed there were some kids on the overhead bridge ahead of me, kind of leaning over the rails. As I went under the bridge, something tiny hit my windscreen. It scared me half to death because the impact was really loud, and when I looked in my mirror I could see the kids running to look over the rail on this side.

I pulled over at the next emergency phone and reported what had happened and that I thought the kids had thrown a stone. The operator said they could see the kids on the cameras and would notify the police. Because the only damage was a small crack, I carried on my journey.

The fun started when I put in an insurance claim for the repair; because of the size and location of the crack, I needed a new windscreen. I got a call from the insurance agent.

Agent: “You’ve missed a few details from your claim form. I need the exact location of the bridge.”

Me: “I already stated in the claim that it was between [Junction #1] and [Junction #2].”

Agent: “There are several bridges on that stretch of road. Which bridge was it?”

Me: “I have absolutely no idea! I stopped at the next phone, but I drove under a couple more bridges, so honestly, it could be any of them. All I can say is that it was a narrow bridge, so probably a minor road, definitely between those junctions.”

Agent: “Okay. Then I will need the details of the other vehicle.”

Me: “What other vehicle?”

Agent: “You claimed a stone was thrown from the bridge at your windscreen. Did you get the registration of the vehicle it was thrown from?”

Me: “It wasn’t thrown from a vehicle. I said it was thrown from a bridge by some kids.”

Agent: “Right. Could I have their names, please?”

Me: “I have no idea. They ran away and I was driving. They were long gone by the time I called for help.”

Agent: “So, you called the police?”

Me: “I used the emergency phone. The operator said they would report it to the police.”

Agent: “I need a copy of the police report. Could you send it?”

Me: “I don’t have one. I have no idea how to get it or even whether an official report was made. I just spoke to the operator.”

Agent: “Without the names of the other people involved, I won’t be able to process this claim.”

Me: “Seriously? I have zero idea how to even start looking for a police report!”

Agent: “Then I will be unable to process this claim.”

Me: “Can I change the claim?”

Agent: “Yes. What did you need to change?”

Me: “The description of what happened.”

Agent: “Okay, what is the new description?”

Me: “As I was driving under the first bridge between [Junction #1] and [Junction #2], a stone fell from the bridge and hit my windscreen.”

Agent: “What about the people who threw it?”

Me: “What people? It fell.”

Agent: “…”

Me: “So, can you process my claim?”

Agent: “Uh… yes. Yes, I can process this claim.”

I got my windscreen replaced and the claim was paid. I have no idea if that agent was right or wrong, but that’s the first time I ever knowingly falsified an insurance claim.