(A while ago we had a new coworker start in another department. Occasionally, he and I happen to take lunch at the same time and we go to eat at the same place.)

Coworker: *as I sip a [Soda] while walking* “You know that stuff will kill you. It’s full of aspartame –” *pronouncing it wrong* “– which gives you tumours and cancer.”

Me: “Yuh huh.”

(Note: this was regular Soda which uses actual sugar.)

Coworker: “It’s true! It’s evil stuff, and all supported by the government.” *inhales deeply on his cigarette*

Me: “And what about that filthy thing in your mouth? That reeks, by the way.”

Coworker: “This is different; I choose to do this to myself.”

Me: “Riiight…”

(He ducks into a shop to buy some cheap pastries, then heads toward some benches, still going on about aspartame, and proceeds to break up his pastry and throw it to the pigeons.)

Me: “Uh… did you just buy that to feed the pigeons? They’re a pest, you know.”

Coworker: “Yeah, I can’t stand them. That’s why I’m feeding them.”

Me: “Run that by me again?”

Coworker: “Smart, see? I only feed the weak crippled ones so they survive and dilute the gene pool.”

Me: *bewildered* “You realise with the amount of rubbish and food that gets tossed on the ground they’re all likely going to survive anyway?”

Coworker: “Huh… probably…” *continues throwing pastry to the pigeons*

(Later, back in the office, he challenges me to look into aspartame so I find an official report on its effects declaring it safe in small doses. After a few minutes he comes into my office.)

Coworker: “Pfff, government approved. Don’t trust anything they tell you. I’ll find you some real evidence.”

(Shortly afterwards I receive an email containing a document outlining the effects on rats, and he comes back to watch my response.)

Me: “Well, of course they’d get tumours. They fed them 1,000 times the maximum human dose. You feed rats anything in that dose and it’ll kill them.”

Coworker: *shakes his head and walks off, shouting* “It’s all a conspiracy, man! You listen to their lies if you want but I know the truth!”

(He was later fired for turning up late and leaving early without notice, showing up for work stoned, and not showing up at all. NOTE: The debate on aspartame is ongoing but the occasional drink won’t kill you like he was suggesting)

(I work for an employment agency, and our office entrance is secured by a mag-locked door operable from intercom handsets throughout the office. We used to just let people in when they hit the buzzer, but after one incident, where a most unpleasant gentleman who had no business with the company had to be physically dragged out by the police, we now must ascertain identity and purpose before allowing them in.)

Intercom: *obnoxiously long buzz, followed by the door frame rattling violently*

(I’m on my feet at the time so I pick up the nearest intercom handset.)

Me: “Hello, [Company].”

Person At Door: *ignores the intercom and continues tugging at the door*

Me: “Hello, [Company].”

Person At Door: *still apparently oblivious, still tugging*

Me: *louder* “I said, HELLO, [COMPANY].”

Person At Door: *whilst continuing to tug at the door* “Can you just f***ing let me in?”

Me: “Can you tell me who you are and why you’re here?”

Person At Door: “No!”

Me: “Okay. Bye, then.”

(I stay on the intercom because I know it isn’t over; cue more strenuous door-tugging.)

Me: “I’m still here, if you’ve changed your mind.”

Person At Door: “Just f***ing open the door!”

Me: “Look, mate, here’s the way of it: you press the buzzer, we answer, and find out who you are. If you’re supposed to be here then we let you in and if you’re not, we don’t. This is a secure office; that’s the way it works. Now, are you going to tell me who you are or why you’re here so we can both get on with our day?”

Person At Door: “Ah, just f*** off, you c***!”

(Tugging at the door stops, I hear him punch the door, and then the elevator button being pressed.)

Me: “I’m supposed to be here, mate, so that advice would be more apt for you than me.” *cheerfully* “Bye, now!”

(After hanging up the handset and making sure the guy has gotten into the elevator rather than hanging around, I check with colleagues in the office to see if anyone was expecting a male visitor of any name. One of them is – it turns out the visitor may have been an agency work candidate here for initial interview. I tell my colleague the intercom story. She then calls the candidate’s mobile phone, and yes, it was him. He launches into a profanity-laden tirade at my colleague who listens for about 20 seconds, her expression growing visibly darker by the second until:)

Colleague: *shouting over him* “CAN I JUST STOP YOU THERE?! Thank you. I need you to listen to something.”

(My colleague then rips his application form up as close to the phone handset as possible.)

Colleague: “Did you hear that? In case you can’t place the sound, that was me tearing up your application form. I saved the part with your name, date of birth and National Insurance number though, because I’m now going to enter them into our database and mark the record as blacklisted. That means that [Company] will now never employ you because you’re clearly a risk to us and any client we’d be foolish enough to recommend you to.”

(Colleague paused as laughing boy tried to protest.)

Colleague: “Actually, yes, we can; deciding whether or not we’re going to hire you is part of the interview process. In fact, that’s what it’s for. You managed to fail your interview before you even got to the interview, which I wish I could say was unique but we do come across people who can’t keep a lid on it every now and again. We used to cut them some slack and put it down to a bad day until someone who behaved very much like you have today seriously assaulted one of our clients’ managers whilst on work assignment, so now we just don’t take the chance. Maybe if you find yourself in a similar situation in future you’ll remember your manners and keep your anger issues in check. Please don’t contact [Company] again. Goodbye.”

(A coworker and I need our boss’s boss to sign a paper. I’ve already e-mailed him the day before.)

Coworker: “So let’s give him a day to respond, then I’ll get on his case about it. I’ll be all over his a** like a wet diaper.”

Me: *silence*

Coworker: *hangs head in shame* “Eww…”

Me: “That sounded much better before you said it, didn’t it?”

(Every couple of days, a local number with no other caller ID has been calling into a nearby conference room where the speaker phone has a piercing ring that is very distracting. Finally, I get fed up and answer the phone when it rings.)

Me: “Chris! It’s about time you called! We’ve been waiting to get this meeting started!”

Caller: *about ten seconds of silence* *click*

(They haven’t called back since.)

(Coworker #2 has been out sick for a few days. He finally comes back into the office, but is still coughing.)

Coworker #1: “Hey, you’re back! Are you feeling better?”

Coworker #2: “Honestly? No.”

Coworker #1: “Oh.” *pauses, not sure how to respond* “Well, life is hard.”