When I started my first job in a restaurant kitchen, I was trained on using the slicer — like what delis use to slice meats and cheese. My trainer told me specifically:

Trainer: “Don’t put your fingers in the blade while it’s running.”

I must’ve looked at her funny because she then told me:

Trainer: “I have to tell you that because we had someone do that, cut off the tip of his finger, and then say, ‘You didn’t tell me not to.'”

We recently had a new employee assigned to the area I manage. I walked him through the training. He was somewhat unfocused, often needing an instruction or demonstration to be repeated two or three times before he got it, but once he paid attention, he picked up the various tasks quickly enough, and he completed them well. After a few days of training, he seemed set to work on his own, so I left him to it.

Later that day, I was walking through the factory floor and turned down an aisle in time to see [New Employee] standing on his tiptoes, slowly inching a box filled with very heavy parts off of one of the shelves. This was very much not how I had shown him how to pull boxes down, and even as I started forward, I saw the box start to tip.

I managed to reach him in time to shove him out of the way so that the box slammed into my shoulder rather than smashing straight into his head. I got knocked to my knee, shouting as the box almost dislocated my shoulder, and the box ended up wedged between me and the shelf. I managed to twist enough to get it off my shoulder and down onto the floor. By the time I turned back, [New Employee] was literally running off, apparently crying as he went.

A couple of others ran over, and I assigned them to check out the box for broken parts while I struggled to my feet to head to the on-site safety station. I got my shoulder checked out, and they ended up putting a brace on it.

That is when someone from Human Resources showed up. Apparently, [New Employee] had run straight there to scream about me “attacking” him.

I was pissed, and I ended up tearing into both [New Employee] and the HR representative, who had tried to say that they were going to suspend me for “unacceptable behavior”. I laid out what I’d seen and how we had possibly been seconds away from HR having to fill out details on how an employee had died on-site from dropping a box of heavy metal on his own head.

The fallout from all of this was… [New Employee] walked away with no issue, and I was reassigned to undergo sensitivity training because [New Employee] claimed a learning disability and said I hadn’t trained him properly.

So, I did the course, and I walked [New Employee] through all of the training again, this time dragging along someone from HR to verify and sign off on everything because my word was no longer good enough. Everything was signed off after a week of training, but this time, rather than having [New Employee] work on his own, I assigned him a partner to work with.

Over the course of the next two weeks, [New Employee] ended up with almost a dozen safety complaints against him. On two separate occasions, he tried to pull the same “go on tiptoe and slide a box off the shelf” stunt. He extended a box cutter fully and then waved it around like a sword, almost cutting his partner. He tried to climb into one of the forklifts and drive it, despite having zero training on operating it.

And with every complaint, HR told me that I couldn’t do anything — I couldn’t discipline him in any way — and they threatened me with another sensitivity course for “singling [New Employee] out”.

So, I went over their heads to the local safety inspectors. Within a day of doing that, I had a meeting with HR, a safety rep, and some of the C-suite (executives) for our company. I laid out all of the issues, provided the signed-by-HR training documents, and then laid out my ultimatum: either [New Employee] would be fired, or he would be assigned to the HR office (or somewhere else in the company). I flat-out refused to have him out on the factory floor.

HR made an anemic attempt to bring up “non-discrimination”, and I told them that the only way I’d be discriminating against anyone is if I kept him on; if literally anyone else had the safety record [New Employee] had, they would have been fired straight away.

From what I heard, he was moved to HR for all of three days, and then he was let go for some “undisclosed incidents”.

I’m a retired investigator, and this happened over two decades ago.

I was called by dispatch to a bank robbery in which the subject threatened the teller with what he claimed was an explosive device and left a box at the teller’s window. Rather than wait for the automatic doors at the entrance to open, he smashed the glass and fled.

I arrived at about the same time that a couple of other detectives did, and the EOD [Explosive Ordnance Disposal] truck drove up a few minutes later. The patrol sergeant had set up two safe zones: one for the employees and customers and one for the investigative team. We went to one of the safe zones, which was right near the front entrance, far enough removed from the device with a wall between us. Some beat officers then replaced the crime scene tape over the door.

About ten minutes later, a dude came sauntering up to the entrance, wormed his way through the tape like Spider-Man, crunched over the shattered glass, and walked up to us. We just watched as it was so surreal that someone would do that. He appeared to be on a mind-altering substance, wobbly with red eyes. He handed us a check.

Dude: *In a sleepy voice* “Hey, dudes, I need you to cash my check.”

Now, mind you, we were wearing vests and had badge necklaces. Plus, the EOD guy was in his marshmallow suit nearby, prepping his gear.

One detective shook his head.

Detective: “Bro, did you not see the crime scene tape and the broken glass?”

Another detective pointed to our vests and badges. The man shook his head as if waking up.

Dude: “Ohhh. I didn’t know what that was.”

I just chuckled and escorted him back to the entrance.

Me: “It’s not safe for you in here, so why don’t you go home and sleep it off? Come back in a couple of hours. I’m sure the bank will be open again by then.”

A big grin lit up his face.

Dude: “Great idea, dude!”

With that, he got back in his car and left.

Nothing fancy. It was just amusing.

Aftermath: the device turned out to be a box of batteries stuffed with wires. We got fingerprints on the batteries, ID’d the mope, and put it out on the news. His mom dimed out his location and he surrendered peacefully. Also, the patrolman who was supposed to be watching the door got a talking-to.

I work in one of the few craft houses in the UK that still uses a lathe. For those of you unaware, a lathe is a piece of rotating machinery used to cut and sand knurl and all manner of by-hand craft you could think of on a rotating axis. For this reason, it is also an extremely dangerous piece of equipment to operate if you are untrained or careless.

Because of this, any operation of the lathe HAS to be done only by a senior trained employee and must be over-watched by two other employees: one near the great big red emergency stop button for if things go south, and the other just as another safety precaution. Before any of this happens, each employee has to sign off separately on declarations to ensure they are aware of their responsibility whilst the machine is in operation.

This occurs one morning, when the staff arrive for another day of work. Amongst our staff is [Junior Employee], who has been with us for less than two weeks.

Senior Employee: “I’ll need you to be on over-watch whilst I use the lathe at two. I’ve asked [Employee #2] if—”

Junior Employee: “Um, if you’re using the lathe, can you take me through it, too?”

Senior Employee: “NO! Sorry, [Junior Employee], but you lack certification as of yet. Build up your experience first and then in the future, we can put you into training.”

Junior Employee: “Oh, okay!”

I think that’s the end of it and go to make myself my morning brew. I’m just about to add my tea bag when I hear a very audible crack behind me. I see a necklace with a bent dog tag lodged in the break room window overlooking the workshop floor. In front of my view, I see [Junior Employee], standing there like a s***ting dog, eyes fixed on what was his adorned dog-tag necklace leaning MUCH TOO CLOSE to the rotating axis on the lathe.

I march out of the break room and slap my hand on the unoccupied emergency stop button. Before I can unleash Hell, however, [Senior Employee] beats me to the punch.

Senior Employee: “WHAT THE H*** DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!”

[Junior Employee] was terminated with immediate effect, but he was given his damaged necklace, which he should not have been wearing whilst near the operating lathe he had switched on without prior permission. In many ways, though, he got off EXTREMELY lucky that he walked away from that one.

This happened to my dad in the early 1980s. He worked at an unemployment agency, placed in a neighbourhood where bomb threats (and bombs) were regular occurrences. His job (and his colleagues’ job, of course) was to invite people to bring their files up to date, to offer job possibilities, and to inquire about irregularities (some funny stories there, as well). If the unemployed person was invited, to qualify for his unemployment money that month, a special stamp by my dad and colleagues was needed.

One day, a bomb exploded, and the rather derelict building only survived thanks to a bank — or rather its vault — being between the bomb and them. Of course, an evacuation was ordered by the police. The big boss, however, countered that order and told all employees to remain and keep working. They were stamping cards left and right. Some of those receiving a stamp protested.

Dad: “You’re lucky; you are allowed to leave. Just get out. You’re good until next week. Come back before then.”

Then, the fire marshall entered, wanting to know why the h*** they weren’t getting out. He was referred to the fourth floor, to [Big Boss]. [Big Boss] was very defiant and refused to let his people go. The fire marshall made short work of it, telling him he had two options: order the evacuation or be arrested for endangering lives and refusing to follow orders from rescuers. Funny, suddenly, they were all allowed to leave…

The offices moved a few years later, and the building was demolished — the classic way.