My job requires a lot of international travel. A silver lining to this is that we can collect personal airmiles from all the business-expensed flights, so they can add up pretty quickly.

One of my senior coworkers, who has been saving her air miles for a while, comes into work one day excited, with a special letter and card from the airline we most frequently use.

Coworker: “I’m now a member of the Mile High Club!”

Me: “Uh… what?”

Coworker: “I got a million miles saved up! That puts me in their special club! Look!”

Me: “[Coworker], you’re trying to tell me that you’ve saved up a large number of miles with [Airline], right? Nothing else?”

Coworker: “Yes! Why, what are you talking about?”

Me: “Do you know what the Mile High Club is?”

Coworker: “Yes, it’s the club you join when you’ve saved a high number of miles with the airline! I hear people talking about it all the time, and I’m finally a member!”

Me: “Okay, let me explain something…”

After I told her what the Mile High Club really was (which has a much lower barrier to entry), she was very grateful that I was the first person in the office she had told that morning!

I work in a government office (city education). A coworker who has been brought on as a contractor to upgrade our tech comes over to me in the office. We’ve built up a semi-informal repartee in the office.

Coworker: “So, you know those leaving drinks you were going to organize for me next month?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Coworker: “Cancel them. They’ve just offered me a permanent position.”

Me: “Oh, awesome! How come?”

Coworker: “Last week, one of the guys being replaced by the system upgrade was told he was being let go, and he had until the end of the day to put his things in order. I have no idea why that database administrator was given free rein like that after being told he was fired… but he either deleted or added slurs to the records of about five hundred children in the city database and then sabotaged the backups.”

Me: “The h***?! And it’s your job to fix it?”

Coworker: “Yeah, to fix it and to detail the damage for the criminal case they’ll be bringing against him, but hey, job security for me!”

Me: “I get it’s gonna take a while, but how is fixing the damage going to be a permanent position?”

Coworker: “They want someone around who’s trained to fix future embarrassing emergencies. I mean, if you saw some of the things he renamed some of those kids… well… I’d hire me too!”

While assisting the help desk at work, replacing a computer monitor, the end user asked me:

User: “You’ll be able to transfer all of my desktop shortcuts over to the new one, right?”

Me: “Well, it’s only the monitor I’m changing, so no need to worry about that.”

User: “But you will transfer them… right?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine.”

When I plugged the new one in, and he saw all of his icons and documents exactly where he left them (there were a lot), he let out a sigh of relief.

User: “Wow! You put them back so fast! How did you know I kept them in that order? You must be so smart!”

Me: “I have my moments…”

Related:
Monitoring The Situation, Part 6
Monitoring The Situation, Part 5
Monitoring The Situation, Part 4
Not Properly Monitoring The Situation, Part 3
Not Properly Monitoring The Situation, Part 2
Not Properly Monitoring The Situation

This happened many years ago. While I was in grad school, writing my thesis on Spanish and Italian drama, I got a job as an “editorial assistant.” I didn’t really do any editing: I proofread articles, but had to get the micromanaging Senior Editor’s permission before making any corrections, and wrote reports for her to put her name on.

I survived the humiliation by talking about my thesis to anyone who would listen and placing grad-level books prominently on my desk.

One day, the Senior Editor burst out of her office and asked:

Senior Editor: “Is [Other Editor] around? I have a question about language.”

This was before Google.

Me: “Maybe I can answer it.”

I said, glancing at the book on my desk.

Me: “I studied Spanish linguistics as an undergrad, and now I’m in grad school, working on my thesis.”

Senior Editor: “No, you wouldn’t know.”

[Other Editor] was not around, so she walked down the hall to ask a third editor. They didn’t know the answer.

She returned, annoyed.

Senior Editor: “When will [Other Editor] be back? I really need the answer.”

Me: “I think he’s at lunch. Why not let me give it a try? Maybe I can figure it out.”

She rolled her eyes.

Senior Editor: “This isn’t a question about typing. It’s about language. Just call me when [Other Editor] gets back.”

She vanished into the office. I had nothing to proofread at the moment, so I started reading my book.

About ten minutes later, [Other Editor] walked by. I stopped him and called [Senior Editor], who came out of her office, livid.

Senior Editor: “Finally! I need you to answer a question about language. No one else at this company has any idea: What do you call that little mark that goes over the letter ‘n’ in Spanish?”

I pointed to my book: “La historia de la literatura española.”

Me: “You mean like that one? It’s called a—”

Senior Editor: “Yes! What’s it called, [Other Editor]?”

Other Editor: “Sorry, I have no idea.”

I kept my mouth shut.

By the way, as everyone learns in fifth-grade Spanish, it’s a tilde.

Our manager comes into the office early, so leaves early. He always exits the office with a one-liner:

Manager: “If anyone wants me, I’ll be very surprised.”

Manager: *Pointing to the exit sign.* “Everyone enjoy the exit sign while we have it. They’re on the way out.”

Manager: “See you all tomorrow, and to whoever stole my antidepressants, I hope you’re happy!”

Manager: “I’m going home to sleep because I was told to pursue my dreams!”

We both love and hate him.