Our office has a cleaner who comes in twice a week to clean up, empty the bins, and so on. She was on holiday, so as my bin was now full, I decided to empty mine and my colleagues’ bins. I collected a couple of large bags and got to work.

When I reached the Quality Manager, he gave me a smile and commented:

Quality Manager: “[My Name], you’re rubbish at this job.”

Me: *Light-heartedly* “Oh, ha, ha, ha.”

Admin Assistant: “Yeah, [My Name], where you bin?”

This got a little cheer from across the room, as she is usually the loudest one for groans and other exasperated noises whenever a pun war starts.

Admin Assistant: “I got one in! I’ve never done that before, but I got one in!”

Me: “I always knew she’d join in if we would litter.” 

Design Engineer: “This is a waste of [My Name]’s skills.”

Quality Manager: “Did you get training for this, [My Name], or did you just pick it up as you went along?”

Technical Manager: “He read the manual litter by litter.”

Design Engineer: “If he doesn’t watch out, he’ll get the sack!”

Admin Assistant: “How do you all do it? I can’t think of any more puns!”

Quality Manager: “I’m surprised [My Name] hasn’t joined in.”

Me: “Hey! I did one earlier; you didn’t hear it.” *In an obviously fake indignant voice* “I think I’ve had enough of this trash talk!”

And as I had now finished the collection, I left the room with two very full bags to the sounds of a lot of groans. Sweet…

This happened about ten years ago when I was working on the railways near London.

I worked for an agency that supplied staff to the railways on a temporary basis. They were very old-fashioned, and as part of our employment contract, they stated that our hand-completed timesheets had to be faxed by 7:00 pm on Thursday for us to be paid on Friday. Timesheets that were emailed, even before 7:00 pm, would result in wages not being paid until the following Friday.

Obviously, they chose the most inconvenient way — as it was 2014 and nobody had a fax machine — so they were able to legally retain our wages in their account for an extra week.

But my printer at home had a fax machine built in that I never used.

So, after my first week, I plugged my printer into the phone line, faxed my timesheet to the agency, and waited.

The next day, I still hadn’t been paid.

I phoned them and asked why I hadn’t been paid, but the response was explained in a dull voice by somebody who had obviously repeated the same sentence so many times that it had lost all meaning to her.

Employee: “As explained in your contract, only timesheets that have been faxed to us are paid the next day. If you’ve emailed it, your wages will be paid next week.”

Me: “But I did fax it!”

She gathered her thoughts for a moment before replying.

Employee: “Oh… err, okay? Which number did you fax it to?”

I gave her the number I had faxed it to, which was correct.

Employee: “Um… okay… I’ll just place you on hold.”

She came back on the phone a couple of minutes later.

Employee: “Okay, yes, we’ve got it. Sorry, I can’t remember the last time somebody actually faxed their timesheet to us! I’ll get that paid now.”

As you can imagine, I told my colleagues the following day, and from then on, they all gave their timesheets to me to fax when I got home so they got paid on time.

I wondered if they’d drop the silly fax-versus-email rule, but it continued, so every week, I’d fax in half a dozen timesheets to them.

Related:
Taxing Faxing, Part 40
Taxing Faxing, Part 39
Taxing Faxing, Part 38
Taxing Faxing, Part 37
Taxing Faxing, Part 36

We have this obnoxious guy in the office who ticks off so many annoying boxes. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, he’s loud and crass with all his achievements (both work- and non-work-related), and he likes to boast about things that are obviously fake or impossible. “Oh, some kid finally beat Tetris? Pfft! I did that when I was a kid on my first try!”

I’ve come back from a week’s annual leave, and he passes me by.

Obnoxious Coworker: “Oh, you’re back. You couldn’t even get a decent tan when you were away?”

Me: “Well, it’s hard to get a tan when you’ve been indoors all week.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “What a waste of a holiday to be indoors!”

Me: “It wasn’t really a holiday, more of a competition. I was competing in a Judo tournament.”

Obnoxious Coworker: *Snorts* “Hah! Whatever.”

Me: “I placed third.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “You’re havin’ me on!”

Me: “I assure you I’m not.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “A skinny twig like you does Judo?”

Me: “I do Judo because I’m a skinny twig. It’s great for figuring out how to take down stronger and larger opponents.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “I bet I could still take you on with an arm behind my back.”

Me: “I doubt that.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “Oh, yeah? Come on, then. Come at me!”

Me: “I’m not going to do that.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “That’s what I thought.”

Me: “It’s not that. I don’t want to be at the center of a Human Resources incident where I caused you any injury—”

Obnoxious Coworker: “Come on! Don’t be a p***y! Come at me! I dare ya!”

Me: “You dare me? What are you, eleven?”

Obnoxious Coworker: “Come at me!”

In his excitement, he actually comes at me! Instead of trying to make a display, I simply slide to the side, using my foot to easily trip him up. Honestly, it isn’t even a Judo move, just a simple tripping up. He falls to the ground, more embarrassed than hurt. He glares at me and storms off, but he is literally back a minute later with one of the managers, who is also an HR manager. This manager has been having a coffee in the breakroom — in full view of our encounter, I might add.

Obnoxious Coworker: “Well! You saw him trip me up on purpose, didn’t you?”

HR: “I saw you fall.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “Because he tripped me!”

HR: “Well… you did dare him.”

Obnoxious Coworker: “This is ridiculous!” *Storms off*

Me: “So, I’m good?”

HR: “You’re good. Try to resist the urge to ‘Judo Chop’ him if you can.”

Me: “That’s gonna be a struggle…”

Thankfully, [Obnoxious Coworker] ignored me for the rest of the day. Bliss!

I’m on the phone with a client.

Client: “Wait, let me make a note of that. Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Me: “Are you talking to me?”

Client: “Who else would I be talking to?”

I overhear two coworkers talking.

Coworker #1: “I was born at [Hospital], so I’m proper local. What about you?”

Coworker #2: “Oh, I was born at home.”

Coworker #1: *Shocked* “At home! Wow! Was your mum there, too?”

I had to leave my desk immediately before I spat my coffee all over my screen.