This story is from twenty years ago, at a time when mobile phones could be used only for telephone, texting, and playing “Snake” — no Internet, GPS, or other fancy things.

I had this friend who lived on “Pablo Neruda Street” — in a city that also had a “Pablo Picasso Street”. Every single time he tried to order food for delivery, he explicitly had to say: 

Friend: “Deliver to Pablo Neruda Street — Neruda, not Pablo Picasso.”

And despite this, the delivery guy would always call him back, saying: 

Delivery Guy: “I’m on Picasso Street…”

Well, except once. The one time the delivery guy got the correct street name… he got the city wrong.

Twenty-plus years ago, I worked in IT. [Guy #1] out in the shipping area was a great dude but not great with computers, so he’d always call and be like, “Hey, man, my computer is on fire. I need help,” as a joke. I’d go down, and he would have some issue with email or whatever. This went on for quite a while, and it was a running joke.

One of the guys on the other side of the wall from [Guy #1] called one day.

Guy #2: “Hey, my computer is on fire and smoking! You need to come down!”

Me: “Yeah, okay. I’ll be down in a few. Just let it burn.”

A few minutes went by, and he called back.

Guy #2: “Hey, man, this thing is smoking and shooting sparks.”

Me: “Yeah sure. I’ll be right there.”

Well, I walked down, and when I was almost there, I was like, “Oh, s***, I smell smoke!”

When I arrived, [Guy #2]’s CRT monitor was shooting sparks and smoke out the back. I immediately yanked the cord out.

Me: “What the f***, dude?!”

Guy #2: “Well, you said to let it burn!”

I am discussing something with my manager when one of our new starters, an eighteen-year-old man who started working here last month, interrupts us.

New Starter: “There’s a mistake in my paycheck. I didn’t agree to pay taxes.”

My manager and I stare at each other for a moment. Once we’ve confirmed that we did, in fact, both just hear what we thought we heard, my manager turns to him.

Manager: “What do you mean by not agreeing to pay taxes?”

New Starter: “I’d rather not do the whole tax thing, thanks. Do I need to opt out, or is there something I need to do?”

Manager: “You can’t just ‘opt out’ of taxes. If you’re a citizen of this country and you work, you pay taxes.”

New Starter: “But… I don’t want to.”

Manager: “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

New Starter: “But… it’s my money!”

Manager: “Well, it’s the government’s money now.”

New Starter: “No! I want it back! I didn’t agree to give the government my money!”

Manager: “If you work here, the taxes come out of your paycheck automatically. You agreed to that when you signed your contract to work here.”

New Starter: “No one reads all of that!”

Manager: “Be that as it may, you agreed to have a percentage of your paycheck be taxed. If you wanted to do your own taxes, you’d need to work for someone else who allows it or be self-employed. Outside of that, there’s nothing I can do.”

New Starter: “This is bulls***! I can’t be the only person who has complained about this!”

Manager: “Welcome to the real world, [New Starter]. The only constants are death and taxes.”

New Starter: “Wait… So, everyone pays tax? Like… every paycheck?”

Manager: “If they’re not, they’re breaking the law.”

New Starter: “This is bulls***!”

Manager: “How do you think the roads you drive on are maintained? Or the police get paid?”

New Starter: “Ugh! Well, I was against it before, but now I want to defund the police, too!”

He storms out.

Me: “Sadly, I’ve seen that happen when every person opens their paycheck in their first ‘grown-up job’.”

Manager: “They snoozed in history lessons at school about tossing that tea into the harbor, but as soon as they start working, they finally get it.”

I’m a security guard. A coworker broke the mini-fridge in our guard shack. I don’t even know how; I just know it wasn’t working anymore after he said he tried to “de-ice” it. Then, he started leaving cardboard gallons of milk in random places that seemed like they might be colder than the rest of the room. Almost two weeks ago, he brought in a gallon of milk and a small bottle of chocolate milk and stashed them in the first aid kit because it was made of metal, and obviously, metal means cold like a fridge, right?

Then, [Coworker] moved to work at a different site.

Fast forward to today. I come in, and the first aid kit is leaking and the room is smelly. No one knew what was in there since we rarely go into it. I work the grave shift, so I’m alone the whole time retching, gagging, and crying. I check the first aid kit only to find the milk inside, and I immediately know who left it there, so I text that person.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], did you leave a gallon of milk and a bottle of chocolate milk in the first aid kit?”

Coworker: “Yeah, that needs to be tossed.”

Me: “Yes, it does.”

Coworker: “Okay, well, go ahead and toss it. I’ll come by to get my stuff another time.”

Me: “Hmm, no. Can you come clean up your rotting milk, please?”

I’d like to add that it’s 10:00 pm, and this person is up late normally, so I didn’t wake him.

Coworker: “No, I don’t work there anymore, so you’re going to need to clean it.”

After that text conversation, I call my manager, and she is confused, rightfully so.

Manager: “Call [Supervisor] and have him come help you.”

So, I call [Supervisor].

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor], [Coworker] left a gallon of milk to rot in the first aid kit, and now the shack smells putrid, and it’s leaking. [Manager] told me to call you about it.”

[Supervisor] was also confused by what I said, but he said he’d be there within the hour to take care of the situation.

After that phone call, I went to the client building where I work and got some protective masks and medical gloves so we could clean this up. The client supervisor asked me why I needed them, and when I told him, he had me repeat what I’d said because he couldn’t believe it.

About an hour passed. I was wearing my mask when [Supervisor] arrived and started cleaning up the mess. He wouldn’t even let me help him because it was a health hazard.

I didn’t know what was going to happen to [Coworker] because, technically, he still worked for the company, just at a different site, but at the very least, he needed to be taught about health and safety.

But as the way dumb crap happens with the company I work for, it was shrugged off. The client site is going to shampoo the carpet. The guy is still employed by the company; as a matter of fact, because he’s a flex employee, he’s still covering our site when someone calls out.

Luckily for me, I had a wax warmer and some wax cubes I could bring in to kill the smell. I made sure all the other guards were okay with the smell and plugged the thing in. Now, the shack smells like “Darkest Sandalwood” and not at all like rot or feet.

This story reminds me of a colleague I had many years ago, who was a notorious time optimist — consistently late for EVERYTHING.

One time, he was due to take a train to meet with a client. This wasn’t a small local train, but one of the big express trains with hundreds of seats. Say the train left at 8:30 am. He arrived at the station at 8:45 am, discovered that the train had left, and returned to the office, fuming with anger.

Colleague: “They just left without me!”

Me: “Well, they do have a timetable to keep…”

Colleague: “Oh, come on. It doesn’t work that way, and you know it.”

Me: “It doesn’t?”

Colleague: “When I booked the ticket, did they or did they not ask me for my cell phone number?”

Me: “Well, yeah, they always do that, so they can send you the ticket.”

Colleague: “So, they had my phone number. When they realised I wasn’t on board, why wouldn’t they call me and ask if I was on my way?”

Me: “You expect them to check 300 seats and call everyone who isn’t on board in the two minutes the train stops at the station? And then call the stragglers and wait for them to turn up?”

Colleague: “Don’t be a smarta**. I was two minutes away, tops.”

Me: “Didn’t you just say you were there at 8.45?”

Colleague: “So, now I’m not allowed to stop for a smoke?! I’m just saying it wouldn’t have killed them to wait. This is awful service.”

At that point, I suggested that I call the customer and reschedule. 

I wish I could tell you that this was the only time we had this exact conversation after he missed a train. I wish I could tell you that… but offices are no fairytale world.

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