At Work stories

[Rei Kuhr]

Ok, I hate being at work with no way to see what's going on. And work is extremely boring. So post your stories about crazy things that have happened to you while at work.

I dont have anything really weird today, but some guy walked in with two 5 year-old kids. He took them to the bathroom, closed the door, and both his kids started quacking really loudly. I basically just gave him a WTF look when he came out.

[Trevor Russell]

So there I was, sitting on my lifeguard tower. I lifeguard in Daytona Beach during the summer, which is on the east coast of the US, AKA the western side of the Atlantic Ocean. I was guarding close to the local pier, and someone comes up to me and says,

"When are they going to finish the bridge?"

[Phillip Hultcrantz]

We had some fat woman come into work today that smelt like stale Urine. it was pretty damn nasty. She was in a huge cheap dress thing that was wet all along the front of it.

[Rei Kuhr]

Bahaha. Some guy walked in a few minutes ago while I was out having a smoke break. He started talking about how smoking is bad and that I should be ashamed to be out smoking where I could "Taint other people with the sickness that smoking lets out into the air." Then he came in and asked for a pack of cigs.

[Gulliver Carpool]

So I teach dog training classes at a major nationwide pet supply store. Our classroom, as it were, doubles as a playroom for dogs that are sent to daycamp or who are boarding at our hotel. Three walls are basically tile-covered cement, and one is a floor to ceiling window. The floors are a polished concrete. It looks like a diorama from grade school. Just without the Roman Empire or The Underground Railroad inside. The room measures approximately 18' x 12'. When a small dog barks, the acoustics created by the room's architecture create a short reverb that somehow enhances and amplifies the noise. I dare say a schnauzer or yorkie with a bug in its ass might be the worst possible thing to happen to me in my class--aggressive pits be damned.

Several weeks ago, I was beginning class. There were 5 dogs in this class, all puppies. Most of them small dogs. The largest dog is a three month old lab, maybe 30 pounds top. I begin my class by asking the students--actually, their owners if you want to be technical--how their week has been, how the new things I've taught them have worked out, and how any lingering behavior issues have progressed.

I began as always on my left and went around the room. There was the usual: Miley still shits inside but pees outside like a champ; Duke still bites mom's hands too much; Brandi is on her way to being the greatest dog ever; Biscuit still doesn't know her name. When I finally got to the last student, I asked her mom how things had been. Savvy is a miniature dachshund that's maybe 4 months old, and a very small one at that. Her mom, is easily in her 70s. I'd say maybe her late 70s. It's hard to tell.

Anyway, Savvy is a good dog. She's eager to please and my only real complaint is that she doesn't sit or lay down on our cold concrete floor. Since we were rather far along in this class's studies, mom wanted to show us all the new trick that she taught Savvy all by herself.

I should take this time to mention that for seating, all we have are stools. Two metal bars bent and welded to form legs with a thick plastic disk bolted to the top for human asses to rest upon.

Back to Savvy: Whereupon, mom leaned over to ask Savvy to shake--something she wouldn't do because she refuses to sit on the floor, which only makes what's likely obvious to you now only that much more bittersweet--mom broke wind. I can only describe this as a Certified Window Rattler. You younger guys might apply the adjective "EPIC" to describe this. Now again, this is a little dog class, and it was clear to me, and I'm fairly certain to all 8 other humans in that room, including mom's husband who mercifully has duel hearing aids, that there could be no possible way a noise so powerful as that could be produced by something as small as Savvy's anus. Not only could she not generate that kind of thrust, but its size would have rendered the pitch at least several octaves higher. No. This fart was more like someone starting and then revving a chainsaw. Or perhaps more like someone blowing directly into a microphone. But our confines conspired: The stool's top acted as would a drum skin; the stool's legs acted as though they were strings on a bass, amplifying the barely perceptible lower frequencies. But the room, she acted as though she were the Sydney Opera House.

Now, I will admit, I fart with impunity in my classroom. I have East Texan blood in me; it's part of who I am. Farting while working is one of the few perks of the job. Payment sure isn't. So, I take it upon myself to exercise the one cheek sneak several times an hour and if by chance some odor is emitted--and it often is--well then, it was probably one of the dogs. But, I'm careful about the sound. In a class full of lapdogs, I'd never dare audible. But this poor woman, she was exposed for all to see. I can only imagine it was the grace and experience of nearly 80 years tempered with the resigned confidence that comes with those years that allowed the woman to press on trying to get Savvy to shake, all while never once flinching or removing the smile from her face.

Savvy never shook hands for us.

[Cygna]

tl;dr

Nice picture of that place in Australia.

[Kytec Switchblade]

Ok, so. Luckily my work has plenty of hilarious stories so i'll begin!

So im sitting in my chair fixing a computer when a middle eastern / indian man starts getting loud with a loan officer. He's leaned back in his chair with a fake air of superiority as he struggles to keep from butchering the english language. His wife sitting beside him with unkempt hair draped over either side of her face as he looks down at her folded hands. The man starts getting louder, swearing, knocks over a container of paperclips and storms out, dragging his wife by the wrist.

A few moments later we see the man standing infront of the office directing his anger towards his wife, constantly grabbing her arm and pulling at her as he curses in another language. The entire time an employee by the name of mark; a young hyper man who spends his free time boxing semi-professionally, glares on thru the plate glass window with fire in his eyes. Finally the man steps too far and starts slapping his wife, tosses a cigarette butt at her and pulls her wrist hard. Mark stands up and walks out front, cursing the guy out red in the face, and instead of stop and apologise the man gets up in Mark's face.

The people in the office get mark to calm down the man comes back in and resumes negotiation, and after the deal is signed and the man begins to leave Mark tells the man "You do what you want at home, i cant stop you, but you NEVER hit a woman infront of My office." The Indian man stands up shouting "You fucking guy, you fucking guy, i do what i want with MY wife fucking guy" and starts getting up close to Mark, both pissed as hell. Mark stands up and at the exact same time both men face to face turn and pick up chairs.

They face eachother and like some sort of modern day blue collar arena of desks and office supplies the two guys go at it. The cushoned rolly chair comes in hard but the metal legged lightweight chair easily parries, sparks coming of the metal parts whenthey hit. Mark does a spin and nearly knocks the other guy's chair free but the indian guy, being fat and nasty leans in and gets a hit on mark's arm. Mark being small and scrappy comes in with a couple fast hits and knocks the indian guy down, the whole while im still installing a new program, casually sigh'ing. Eventually the police come and break it up, but the epic chair battle will forever be remembered.

[Kytec Switchblade]

Crackhead joe was a client of ours at one point. I cant rightly immagine he'd gotten a mortgage for anything larger than a trailer, but i doubt we do trailer loans, so he may have just been a drinking buddy of someone's. So this one day crackhead joe comes waltzing in, smiling ear to ear, wearing the exact same thing he always wore; torn entirely too tight jeans, a paint spattered t-shirt, beat up sneakers with the toes showing on one foot, and a backwards sun bleached baseball cap. He comes up to Alex, the owner of the company's son at the time, and says "maaaan i finally did it, i made it, man im richer than you now, haha!." So Alex sits back with a smiles, folds his hands and says "what happened to you this time man." Crackhead joe continues on "Im rich! i got all the money in the world! oh man its so great! i got a brand new car an everthing!"

Crackhead joe procedes to lead us outside. Alex, sherrisse, Jim, and myself follow to see crackhead joe standing next to an old somewhat beatup honda accord.... with the hood popped... So we sit there and look, nodding and thinking to ourselves ... it's a honda accord... why did he pop the hood... is he really acting like this is a hotrod? So we stand there as he goes on about how fast his car is and how he was going to get a corvette but got this instead cause' it had more room inside.

At this point were wondering what the hell actually happened, when the single most funy thing that we'd ever seen happened. As if the "hotrod" wasn't funny enough coming from this scraggly beat up crack addict with his slurred yet excited ranting, he begins to talk about the love of his life. Apparently he had been to the mountains of argentina, where in his expedition, which we still to this day cant figure how or why crack head joe was in argentina, he happened to find the love of his life. So he goes on about his girlfriend and how beautifull she s, and hoe he found her on the side of a mountain in a hut, and how amazing she is, and then breaks out a photo. Mind you crack head joe is whiter than bleach, yet his girlfriend's picture shows him hugging onto a very reluctant human being who is darker than the inside of a black safe burried 2 miles underground away from any possible sunlight. This woman, as sherrise had put it, was blueblack, and from the picture seemed to be desperate to escape the clutches of crackhead joe. So we're trying not to bust out laughing abou thow he talks about how beautifull she is, and how wonderfull she is, when we find out the real story behind his supposed riches.

As it turns out crackhead joe was working for a painting company in a nearby town. While driving to the next job a shiny new mercedes ran a stop sign and slammed into his work truck. Joe wasn't alone, there were 5 illeagle mexicans riding with him, but at the time of the accident, realizing none of the others had green cards all of the mexicans bailed out and ran for the woods, leaving crackhead joe unconcious at the weel, earning crackhead joe the full amount of the settlement for the accident. The total for this mishap earned joe $10,000. Although we didn't dare remind crackhead joe that Alex, who drove a new hummer at the time, earned over $10,000 a month, we did procede to burst out laughing at the entire event, and the hilarity of the shinanigains of crackhead joe.

[Kytec Switchblade]

It was a calm day at the margate office; my personal favorite office due to its location a block from the beach. As we sat i was informed that we would be having a local radio station come and do a little pormotional show. So the guy arrives, we start cooking hotdogs and burgers, giving them out to people in hopes of them remembering us and coming back for a loan later, when the host of the radio show hooks up his speakers and starts playing the station out over the street. It wasn't too loud, but you could hear it a few blocks away as it was outside and good quality of sound.

Within minutes we get extremely angry neighbors going off on us for making such a rackett at 3 pm on a saturday during the summer. So we decide "fuck that guy" and keep playing. Not 10 minutes later we get the police pulling up and blocking traffic, standing in the road with their hands on their guns saying "WERE GOING TO HAVE TO ASK YOU TO STOP" super serious beach police are super serious. So our gracious host decides Hey this would be a good oportunity for publicity, lets turn it up and get arrested to fight for our right to party.

As the bald lanky biker dude working for the radio station gets mouthy with the very large very angry bald policemen in terminator shades looking like a pair of mr.clean rejects, Terry, the company's top producer, large, strong and angry comes out and seriously puts EVERYONE in their place. The radio guy damn near hides behind a table, the police back down and start apopogising and slink back to their cars and speed off. The angry neighbor standing by the sidelines RUNS home and closes the door, peeking thru the shades at us and fearing for his life. All because Terry managed to break out that booming angry monther voice before going back to work.

[Kytec Switchblade]

Craig was your usual sports fanatic, jock in highschool, alcaholic middle aged new father still trying to hold on to his party days. One day i go to the mays landing office, knock on the door - no answer. I check my phone, craig should be in. I get the key, go in, start updating norton or whatever, and i roll my chair back only to hear a groan of pain. I nearly jump out of my chair and turn around to see Craig sprawled out behind the desk. My first reaction is shit he got fucked up and hes laying back here dieing or something, but i notice he's only wearing a tshirt and boxers, and has his pillow.

So craig wakes up, pleading not to tell anyone he'd been sleeping in the office. He was running away from his wife and child because he couldnt handle being a father or whatever, still drunk off his ass even after sleepoing it off. I managed to talk him into going home and being a father for his child using all of that think about how your dad was growing up blah blah blah do you want to be like him.

Craig goes home, makes up, goes back to being a dad, but the next friday same thing, come in and hes there sleeping. So i ask what happened and he says "my wife kicked me out of the house for being too annoying, she said she liked the peace and quiet and said i could come back when i made enough money to buy her booze and some new shit"

Apparently, she was just as bad as him, and upon talking to her i realized they were a perfect couple. I fear for that child lol

[Kytec Switchblade]

The former boss of the company Peter Mercado was this huge strong man, riddled with bullet wounds from vietnam. He was a 4th degree blackbelt, and had a wall of trophys from more types of martial arts than i can name. If anyone has seen the venture brothers, picture brock sampson with short grey hair and a big nose and thats him perfectly. This man had stories about vietnam that came up in casual conversation that blew everything else ive ever heard away. He'd been in 3 helicopter crashes and shot 7 or 8 times.

So one day while he's out on his boat some thing terrible happens. The side of his boat and the house boat he lived on crashed into oneanother , trapping his leg between. A wave crashes into the side of the boat, lopping his foot off, leaving it barely dangling on. We call the ambulance, they come, and this man is a beast, he doesnt show a single sign of pain, he denies any morphene or sedatives of any sort and just bears it.

We get to the hospital and the doctor tells him sir, your probably going to lose your leg. So Peter just grabs his shirt, pulls him down and says "No i wont. Fix it" in a deep rhaspy and overpowering voice. The doctor wide eyed and shaking walks away. We go home and hear about all this special treatment happening, all kinds of advanced procedures, within 2 months, against all advice, peter was walking on it just fine.

[Guest PADI321 Arida]

you had the time to type all of that kytec? Even sadder i had the time to read it >_>

[Gulliver Carpool]

So, I just got back from the men's room. Here's my report:

There's one of those privacy dividers between the two urinals. It's about shoulder high to about my knee. I suppose it's there not so much for privacy--you could look the other guy in the eye if you were so inclined--but to encourage shy bladders, so they get their asses back to their desks. That's my take. Nevertheless, I'm there, taking care of things, and the fellow next to me commences to shake after eliminating the heft of his water. Then, I feel a tap on my shoe. I peer down and see a shiny droplet of urine on my shoe--suede of course. I suspect given a slight pause, as though he were looking down and comprehending what happened, the other guy saw what'd happened.

(5L to the first guy to make a "pissed off" joke.)

[Ron Bleac]

That sure was piss poor luck, Gulliver. Must've been the wind or something.

[Alexi Ayres]

Did he offer to cleaned your shoes?

[Gulliver Carpool]

No.