Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], I had a dream about you last night.”
Me: “Really? What happened in it?”
Coworker: “[Head of R&D] and some other managers were having a meeting. You walked in, pointed your butt at them and farted, then walked away.”
Me: “I don’t know what’s worse: that you dreamed I did that, or that I could actually see myself doing that.”
(I work in an office with a boss who frequently asks questions repeatedly even if nothing has changed or there is no way we could know the answer in hopes of receiving an answer he likes. On Monday, our Internet connection is down. We call Comcast to figure out why. I show the tech to the back and he checks everything out, but there is nothing wrong on his end. At this point the Internet has been out for five hours and none of us have been able to do any work.)
Boss: “Hey, this is telling me I’m connected but I’m not.”
Me: “I know; that’s why we’re still working on it.”
Tech: “See, it all says it’s fine on my end, but the computer up front tells me there’s an IP address that is getting kicked back. So it’s an internal problem. You probably need to call your IT guy.”
Boss: “My computer tells me that I’m connected, but it’s through the hard line. Why isn’t it working? Are you telling me something changed?”
Tech: “I can’t tell. It could be a dirty computer kicking an IP back, or a switch in your router. It’s not Comcast. You still have wireless.”
Boss: “But it’s not working. And none of my people changed anything.”
(At this point I leave them alone. About five minutes later the tech comes over with a wry smile.)
Tech: “Your boss moved all the security cameras this weekend and cycled the security system. His computer was giving off the bad IP.”
(My boss walked by my cubicle singing the first five words of a well-known song, and it promptly got stuck in my head. An hour later I head over to his cubicle.)
Me: “You know, I’m really mad at you now.”
Boss: “Why?”
Me: “Because now I have [Song] stuck in my head.”
Boss: “Oh, was I humming that?”
Me: “Yes.”
Boss: “Oh.” *he pauses, and then picks up a banana and a rubber band off his desk. He puts the banana on my head* “Here, I can get the song out of your head.”
Me: “What… are you doing?”
Boss: “If I can shoot the banana off your head, the song won’t be stuck in your head anymore.”
Me: “…Okay.”
(I play along and close my eyes. My boss fires the rubber band and it hits the banana, bounces off, and goes flying across the room. The banana itself does not move.)
Boss: “Sorry, it didn’t work. I’ll need my banana back.”
(We had someone from Ghana visit some time before this. I want them to come again and plan to give them an American story.)
Me: *to coworker* “So, I think he’d be able to understand some of the features, since the character’s killed by parents in revenge.”
Coworker: “But no parents ever get him.”
Me: *as I haven’t watched the whole movie, I move on* “But it’s just, he’d be able to understand, since this character dies and haunts them.”
Coworker: “But he doesn’t die.”
Me: *wondering what’s going on* “Okay, you tell me what happens.”
Coworker: “Well, he dresses up as Santa and goes to bring Christmas to everyone.”
Me: “That’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
Coworker: “What were you talking about?”
Me: “Nightmare on Elm Street.”
(She bursts out laughing.)
Coworker: “I’m so sorry!”
Me: *to coworker* “Just be grateful it wasn’t with a 10-year-old and a DVD player.”
(I’m partially deaf in both ears and heading to work from the train station.)
Coworker: “[My Name]! Why didn’t you answer?!”
Me: “I’m sorry, were you calling me?”
Coworker: “I’ve been yelling your name since you walked through the gate! Why didn’t you answer me?!”
Me: “Ah, because I’m partially deaf in both ears and didn’t hear you.”
Coworker: “No, you’re not!”
Me: “Yes, I am, since I was 12. I even wear hearing aids.”
(He looks straight at my ears.)
Coworker: “No, you’re not; don’t be silly.”
Me: “YES, I am! And I’m not wearing my aids at the moment as they’re being repaired.”
Coworker: “Pfft, if you can’t hear than how do you talk and understand us?”
Me: “I lip read and listen to as much as I can.”
(My coworker ponders this while staring at my disbelieving.)
Coworker: “Okay, okay. Well, how come you didn’t walk up the escalator?! And why are we walking to work via the hill instead of stairs?! I’ve been chasing you and now we’re going the wrong way!”
Me: “Because, as you already know, I have a torn ligament in my ankle and can’t take stairs! What’s with the 20 questions?!”
(He proceeded to berate me for not answering him, going the “wrong” way, and making him chase me.)
