We have a new coworker who recently moved to Canada from France. French is their first language but they’re perfectly confident in English. It is near Christmas and we are stocking those small novelty books that act as good stocking stuffers.

French Coworker: *Going through inventory* “Oh! What is this word?”

She points to the word “quirk” in the title “Quirks Of The English Language.” I explain what it means and she nods solemnly.

French Coworker: “Yes! English has so many… quirks! It’s a very difficult language to get right!”

She opens it up and reads one of the lines out loud.

French Coworker: “Before was was was, was was is.”

She then looks at me accusingly.

French Coworker: “This is evil!”

An older gentleman has been browsing nearby, and he chimes in:

Customer: “Before was was was, was was is. When is is is, was was yet will be will be will be.”

French Coworker: “You’re evil!”

Guess what she got for her Secret Santa gift?

I’ve taken my car to a popular chain shop famous for “stay in your car” service to have my summer tires swapped on. The service goes smoothly, and I get home to put my winter tires away.

When I take them out, I notice that three of the four of my nice fabric tire bags have the seams completely blown out. They were fine when I put my tires into the car this morning, so it must have happened at the shop. I call them.

Me: “Hi. I was just at your shop to have my tires swapped, and I noticed when I got home that three of my tire bags have been ripped.”

The employee is immediately defensive and accusatory.

Employee: “Yeah, I remember your wheels. The bags are too small. Didn’t you hear me fighting with them?”

Me: “No, I didn’t, and the size listed on them clearly states it fits my wheels. Besides, I’ve had them for a couple of years and—”

Employee: “You’ve had them for two years? Then they’re old! That’s why they ripped!”

Me: “Nobody else prior has had an issue with getting them on and off my tires. However, it happened that they were ripped by one of your employees, and I wasn’t told about it when I was there. How can we fix this?”

Employee: “Well, you can bring them in and I can see about fixing them, but you have to be reasonable!”

I rolled my eyes and finished the call. I got in touch with their corporate customer service and was able to come to an arrangement with them: a free service in the future, a note in my customer profile to be careful with my tire bags going forward — I’m not sure why this needed to be an extra note; care should be standard — and assurance that someone spoke to the staff at that location.

Things happen; I get that. Just be honest and don’t blame the customer for it. Is that really unreasonable?

An office colleague used to sit facing me, about a metre away, so I’d often hear both sides of her phone conversations.

One day, she answered a call from a French man whose English was weak. He wanted one of the managers. However, the managers wanted us to introduce callers before putting them through.

(Names have been changed.)

Caller: “I want talk John Smith.”

Colleague: “Canahskhooscawingpleas?”

My colleague spoke Estuary English — rapidly. In plain English, she was really saying, “Can I ask who’s calling, please?”

Caller: *Pausing* “John Smith.”

Colleague: *Very rapidly* “Nouhmeanineedyawnamefawcanputyathrough.”

Translation: “No, I mean I need your name before I can put you through.”

Caller: “I want talk John Smith.”

My colleague paused again, and I could sense she was frustrated and baffled as to why this caller couldn’t understand. She got partway through her next Estuary sentence when I’d had enough and waved her down.

Me: *To my colleague* “WHAT. IS. YOUR. NAME.”

My colleague fortunately immediately twigged what the problem was and how to get the caller to understand.

She spoke to the caller again, this time enunciating clearly and slowly.

Colleague: “WHAT. IS. YOUR. NAME.”

Caller: “Jean Dupond.”

My colleague gave me a quick thumbs-up and a wry smile before putting Jean Dupond on hold. Then, she connected to John Smith, the manager.

Colleague: “Shaw Doopaw coming through for you.”

Manager: *Pausing* “Oh, yes, put him through, thanks.”

In fairness to my colleague, she was no idiot. She’d work very fast and get a whole lot done. It was just that sometimes she couldn’t seem to slow down. It was a pity when she left.

About twenty years ago, I was employed as the sole IT staff member for a small organization in the agricultural field. I worked from an office in the city where I lived, but we had several farm facilities in the region.

One morning, I received a call from the bookkeeper at one of the remote sites. She was one of several staff working in a small office attached to the barn. She reported that her desktop was starting to crash and freeze at apparently random moments, and the problem was getting worse.

After some basic troubleshooting over the phone, I agreed to come out in the afternoon to investigate. This site only had two moderately ancient IBM-AT class machines that were in need of replacement, but management had not yet approved my upgrade proposal.

Upon arrival, I decided to start by opening the case and giving the insides a quick check and cleaning. As I slid back the cover, I was shocked to see almost the entire interior of the PC filled with straw, shavings, and mouse turds galore. As I stood speechless, staring at the mess, it suddenly began to move. As I jumped back in surprise, a mouse appeared from the middle of the wad and lunged for an opening in the back of the case. Someone prior to me had installed and then removed an add-in card for this machine. But when they removed the card, they had neglected to reinstall a cover plate for the slot. I imagine the warm toasty interior of the PC was quite an inviting habitat for the little critter.

I spent the next hour or so carefully removing the debris inside the case and cleaning up as much of the mouse turds and urine as I dared without further damaging the motherboard. After this treatment, the PC booted up normally and appeared to work just fine for the rest of my time on-site. I opened the other PC in an adjacent office and found more or less the same situation, but there was no active inhabitant, fortunately.

I located several slot covers among the old computer debris on the site, so they were installed on the open slots of both machines before I buttoned them back up.

Shortly after reporting this to management, the proposal to replace these two mouse houses was approved. Fortunately, the staff had no further problems with the old machines until they were replaced.

I work for Facilities Management in a multi-storey NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) office of around 400 staff. Part of my job is to be Fire Marshal and ensure swift and safe evacuations. There are unannounced drills, and as staff leaves, the marshals sweep each floor to ensure they are clear. All drills are evaluated with a target time to clear the building.

One day during a drill, I have to deal with an employee in Human Resources, recently transferred from the head office, who has other priorities. I find her locked in her office on the top floor and knock on the door.

Me: “[Colleague], you have to leave.”

Colleague: “I can’t.” 

Me: “Why? Do you need help?”

Colleague: “I’m waiting for a phone call.”

Me: “Never mind, you can deal with it later. We’ll only be about twenty minutes.”

Colleague: “No, no, I rang the head office and I’m waiting to hear back about what to do.”

Me: “Right, I’m a Fire Marshal and can tell you that: you need to leave. Now.”

Colleague: “No, you don’t understand. It’s Governance.”

Me: “Governance?”

Colleague: “Governance. I’m responsible for all the records—” *waves her hand around indicating file cabinets, etc.* “—and I can’t leave them. I can’t risk anyone seeing them.”

Me: “It doesn’t matter; there’s nobody here. We need to go — now.”

Colleague: “But I’m waiting to hear from the head of Human Resources about what I should do.”

Me: “Have you been through a drill at head office?”

Colleague: “Oh, yes.”

Me: “And what did you do?”

Colleague: “I left the building.”

Me: “Well, it’s exactly the same here. Let’s go.”

Colleague: “But Governance…”

I’m conscious that the clock is ticking on evacuation time. 

Me: “Look, the whole building is empty so no one can see them, and if there was a fire, you couldn’t do anything anyway, so it makes no difference. We really have to go…”

Just then, her phone rings. She grabs it in a panic and speaks to her boss at the head office.

Colleague: “There’s a fire alarm! What should I do?”

After a very brief pause, she hangs up the phone. 

Me: “What did they say?”

Colleague: “He said I should leave.”