The small company where I worked had a redirecting system for incoming calls, where the caller would be asked to choose among various options to reach the two sections we had: technical office and administration.

Every prospective customer should first go through marketing, and then the sales agent would send us, technical office, the specification for preparing the quotation. Also, any assistance request should have gone through the administration.

Of course, many customers would call and opt for the technical office directly, leaving us to deal with untraceable requests.

The boss didn’t like it, but also didn’t want to pay the few hundred Euros needed to reconfigure the redirecting system.

Last time he brought it up, he threatened to fire the next one who took an external call from the technical office.

Our working hours had five hours in the morning, then a lunch break of choice, either one or two hours, followed by the remaining three hours of work in the afternoon. Due to personal convenience, I had opted for the one-hour break, and I would spend it on site, saving fuel and therefore money.

When the boss learned about it, he started calling me during the break to ask me to do work. 

I was sitting at my desk during my break and heard the phone ringing, with the unmistakable tone of an external call. I didn’t pick it up.

It rang again. I didn’t pick it up again.

It rang again. I didn’t pick it up again.

My boss comes in at the end of their two-hour break, asking me why I didn’t pick up the phone when they called.

Me: “You said not to take external calls, and that you would fire whoever took another one, so I just followed your orders.”

The topic was never brought up again.

The company I work for rents out houses. Today I received a request where I really had to bite my tongue and not answer cheekily:

Customer: “I am looking for an apartment for a minimum of one person. It really has to be suitable for a minimum of one person.”

Me: “I am pleased to inform you that all our houses are suitable for at least one person!”

I had to hold myself back from adding: ‘We don’t own any houses that are suitable for zero persons.’

A (ex)coworker went up and left, never to return. While HR dealt with the sudden leave, someone else needed to fill that post ASAP. I can’t give many details, but it involves approving high amounts of money, and it cannot wait another day.

I’ve been working there for over ten years, I am content with my job, but I am asked, actually almost begged, to fill in.

Me: “All right, do you have a manual or other information on how to do this?”

Manager: “Eh… [Ex-Coworker] was supposed to make a flow and manual… just never did. All I have are these outdated ones. I know I am not giving you much, but if anyone can make sense out of this, I know it’s you.”

I like to help, so sure, I went to work. No rise in pay, but complete control over how I do things, including time management. The goal is that I do this temporarily until they find someone new. Meanwhile, I found out the ex-coworker barely did a thing. No fraud, no big revelation, just a lazy coworker who was fed up coming to the office.

It takes me about three weeks to deal with this cluster-f***. The spaghetti is now macaroni. I have a flow, I deal with case after case, and many people are impressed by how fast and organized I am.

Enter another coworker. He’s been working here for less than a year, and I trained him for his current function before I was asked to untangle this mess.

Coworker: “So, you are now filling in for [Ex-Coworker], right? I heard he just mic-dropped and left.”

Me: “Yes, but I’m getting the hang of this.”

Coworker: “What do you do all day?”

Me: “Oh, remember [Case]? We lost a lawsuit and were ordered to compensate. So, I made sure the payment went through.”

Coworker: “That’s all you did?”

Me: “Of course not. I also worked on [case] and [case].”

Coworker: “And you just throw money all around?”

Me: “That is kind of my job. I check if the application is legit and make sure the money gets transferred.”

Coworker: “That sounds easy.”

Me: “It’s not hard, but you do need someone reliable and trustworthy.”

Coworker: “Anyone can do that. So, about that lawsuit. I heard it was about [large amount].”

I nod.

Coworker: “Why did you give that money? I would’ve offered less.”

Me: “I didn’t offer it. It’s what the judge told us to pay.”

Coworker: “Ah, yes, but that’s the thing with judges. If you pay less, most people just accept it anyway. And you know our clients? They barely have a cent! If you paid half, they would still feel like a millionaire!”

Me: “That’s… not how things work.”

Coworker: “You are just not looking out for the company! You need to be more cunning!”

He then proceeded to tell me how to analyse a case and how to find the “right number that people will accept” despite it being less than what they are legally entitled to.

Me: “Well, thank you for the advice. I have to get going now; I still have a lot of cases and a backlog that needs to be dealt with.”

Coworker: “Oh, really? How about I tell [Manager] I can help you with that? I’m sure I can pick up half of it in just a couple of days! You know what, I’ll talk to him after lunch!”

Me: “Sure… Good luck…”

For the first time in my career, I interrupted [Manager]’s lunch to tell him that I do not want [Coworker] to help me… ever. [Manager] almost choked on his sandwich from laughing. He assured me that if I needed help, I would be the one to pick who to help me.

I work at a community center in the main gathering hall, mostly barista work. There are some medical offices on the top floor, but we bar/host staff don’t have much to do with them.

I had some bad news this day. I just came back from crying in our storeroom. A man approaches the bar with a pee cup in his hand, the ones that doctors give out for urine samples, filled and all. He motions with it as if he wants me to take it from him.

Man: “I thought my medical exam required a urine sample. Turns out it didn’t. Now I’m stuck with this, and I don’t know what to do with it. Can you…?”

Me: *Flinching away from the biohazard I am so graciously offered.* “… Sir …there are restrooms down the hall where you can dispose of the contents.”

Man: “Oh, yeah, that’s also an option, thanks!”

And he goes on his merry way. I turn around to my coworker, who is choking with stifled laughter.

Coworker: “Did he REALLY try to give you his P***-CUP?”

Me: “Well, it was good for one thing. I’m no longer feeling sad!”

And we both proceed to double over laughing. I had to crouch down behind the counter to hide because we were still laughing when the man passed us again on his way to the exit.

I live quite close to a major airport. My two-and-a-half-year-old son loves watching the planes that fly over every few minutes. One day, I decided to take him to the panorama terrace at the airport. We have a lovely morning and lunch there. But in the afternoon, the little guy gets tired, and it’s time to go home.

He does NOT want to go, so he’s not only tired but grumpy too. Any parent of a toddler knows the situation: it’s tantrum time. I check the train times and realise we can just about make the next train home.

So, there I am: an overweight, bearded dude power walking a screaming toddler across the airport plaza. Of course, I’m going to be stopped by a police officer duo.

Officer: “Is everything all right, sir?”

Me: “Yeah, we’re fine, I’m trying to catch a train.”

Officer: *Gesturing to my son.* “I understand, but real quick: what is he to you?”

Me: “He is my son.”

Officer: “Any way you can prove that?”

Now, in the Netherlands, it’s not mandatory for young children to have a government-issued ID with them, only when going abroad. But my kid is calmed down enough by the imposing two officers in front of us, so I can improvise a bit.

Me: *Pointing at my son.* “Who are you?”

Son: “[His Name].”

Me: *Pointing at myself.* “And who am I?”

Son: “Papa!”

Officer: “All right, have a nice day, sir.”

Me: “Thanks, you too.”

I made that train with seconds to spare.