The logistics department forgets to unplug a forklift during a stormy night. When we arrive in the workshop; there is a smell of gas and sulphur because of the hydrocarbons. Because of the smell and the risk of explosion or fire, we have to evacuate.

[Coworker 1] has just arrived (slightly late).

Coworker #1: “Oh, it smells like tartiflette.”

Tartiflette is a dish with potatoes, pork fat, and onions, among other ingredients.

Coworker #2: “Uh, it’s a gas smell. Don’t come in.”

Coworker #1: “But it really smells like tartiflette.”

Me: “It would be nice if someone would play a joke on us and prepare a surprise tartiflette party, but that’s not the case here.”

Coworker #1: “Not a surprise tartiflette party — more like if our supervisors wanted to make a tartiflette without us.”

Coworker #3: “[Executive Secretary] has just informed us that [Boss] has called the fire department to check the security of the place. They’re on their way. If it’s just to hide the fact that they’ve been eating tartiflette on the sly, the firefighters will appreciate it.”

Coworker #1: “But—”

Coworker #2: “I know you love tartiflette, but either you stay outside and if you’re right you miss a tartiflette and if you’re wrong you stay alive, or you go back in and you’re right and you get a tartiflette or you’re wrong and you risk dying.”

Fortunately, [Coworker #1] finally decided to stay out and stay alive. When we got back to the workplace, she found that there was no tartiflette. So, remember, your life is worth more than the possibility of having tartiflette.

I worked as a lifeguard at a public pool last summer. We had a strict “No water wings” policy; those little f***ers are death traps.

A woman is putting water wings on her kid next to the pool, and I politely inform her:

Me: “Ma’am, we do not allow water wings, but we have life vests available for free.”

I point to them, literally five feet from where she’s standing.

Woman: *Infuriated* “How dare you dictate to me how I treat my child?!”

I can see this escalating, so I call my supervisor over. As he arrives and speaks to her, the kid jumps in the pool. The water wings slip up his arms, and he’s suspended underwater. I jump in and pull him out.

Woman: *Even more furious* “You have some nerve to touch my child! I’m gonna sue!”

She was banned from the pool.

Back in 2011, I went to Africa to volunteer at an animal park. One of the areas I helped out with was a drive-through space with a pride of lions. People could drive their cars through to look at the lions, but there were rules. No cars with soft roofs (i.e., a cloth convertible top) or open roofs. Windows had to be closed at all times. Stick to the path. And so on.

Of course, people would try to break the rules, so a staff member would drive around in a truck to keep an eye on things, and sometimes volunteers would ride along to help look out. Most of it was fairly minor — cracking a window for a camera or trying to drive off the path to get closer to the lions. Except for this:

My volunteer coworker and I were in the backseat of the truck, looking out our respective windows, when suddenly my coworker gasped loudly. The staff member and I turned to look, and she was pointing toward a car that had stopped only a few feet away from the male lion.

They had two windows fully open: one for their camera and the other to DANGLE THEIR BABY OUT THE WINDOW so they could get a photo of the baby and the lion.

The staff member immediately jumped out of the truck and scrambled over to them. He briefly spoke to them. Then, they pulled the kid (and the camera) back inside, closed the windows, and drove off. When he came back, we asked him what he had said to them.

Staff Member: “I just told them that if they didn’t want their baby anymore, I had much kinder ways of getting rid of the kid than offering them up to the lions as food.”

I used to work at a [Coffee Chain]. The building we were in caught on fire and was being evacuated.

Customers asked us to not evacuate and finish making their Frappuccinos. I told them:

Me: “I’m not dying for an eight-dollar smoothie!”

And I made security escort them out.

We have a little creek behind our house. It’s a nice peaceful spot to unwind most days. Today, my boys, being the avid outdoorsmen that they are, decided to go catch some crawdads and swing on some vines like typical little boys. After I got done mowing some grass, I had to fix my wife’s heat-press, and after MacGyvering the s*** out of it, I felt I deserved a break.

After about three minutes of peace, [Ten-Year-Old] came in all flabbergasted and being his usual diva self.

Ten-Year-Old: “There’s a snake at the creek! It almost bit me! Get a gun!”

Blah, blah, the usual. I kind of blew it off and continued with my lackadaisical afternoon. After a few minutes, my wife gently “encouraged” me to go check on them. Off I went.

I begrudgingly sauntered off to the creek. Upon my arrival, I was witness to quite a sight.

[Ten-Year-Old], my eldest born, the leader of the pack, the standard for my other boys, was ankle-deep in the water, frantically waving a cattleprod taser thing — I’m not entirely sure where he found it — taunting this phantom snake to bring it on.

While I was simultaneously in awe of his fearlessness and dumbfounded about how he had survived as long as he had, I can only assume the snake went full-on “Don’t tase me, bro,” and noped the h*** out of there. I seriously don’t blame the snake; [Ten-Year-Old] was about to take them both out.

I face-palmed but immediately explained the intricacies of electricity and water to my son. He nodded and then ran off to go poop in the woods or whatever [Ten-Year-Old]s do.

[Four-Year-Old], my smartest child, looks at me and says:

Four-Year-Old: “[Ten-Year-Old]’s not very smart.”

And then he proceeded to yeet a rock straight into [Two-Year-Old]’s forehead.

If the children are our future, mine are not going to be very productive. Sorry, everyone else.