Category: Coworkers

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The Silent War

| USA | Coworkers, Family & Kids

(My sister and I are across the aisle from each other, and my desk is located between hers and our supervisor’s at the end of the aisle. We had some serious down time one day. Note: We were not allowed to talk on the call floor.)

Sister: *bored, so catches my attention and mimes firing a bow and arrow at me*

Me: *ducks and mimes shooting one back*

Sister: *ducks and mimes firing a handgun*

Me: *ducks, mimes firing a shotgun*

Sister: *ducks, mimes firing a canon*

Me: *mimes firing a bazooka*

Sister: *frantic hand movement I cannot determine, maybe a machine gun?*

Me: *fire off another bazooka round*

Sister: *indeterminable hand gestures turns out to be her frantically trying to point behind me*

Me: *slowly turns around to see the supervisor staring at us from her desk, wearing the most priceless confused look EVER!*

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A Negligible Request

| USA | Coworkers, Math & Science, Technology

(I am a younger, female design engineer working for a helicopter manufacturing company, and it sometimes seems like my assessments aren’t taken seriously. An older senior project engineer storms in, in a tizzy, to get information on one of my projects after he has a meeting with someone higher up the corporate ladder.)

Project Engineer: “I need to know the weight of this part… this plastic mount for the wire ties!”

Me: “It’s negligible, and we are only using one in my kit.”

Project Engineer: “You don’t understand! [Higher-up] wants an EXACT weight, and I need it immediately so I can get this guy off my back!”

Me: “Ok, give me a couple of minutes to find it.”

Project Engineer: “Thanks, I’ll be back in a few.”

(He runs out the door. I finally find the info he wants after 10 minutes of searching.)

Project Engineer: “Did you find it?”

Me: “Yes. The weight is 40.37 grams per 100 of them.”

Project Engineer: “Ok, so how much is that in pounds?” *gets paper and pen to write it down*

Me: *after quick calculation* “Point zero eight nine per hundred. One of them weighs point zero zero zero eight nine pounds… or a little over fourteen one-hundredths of an ounce…”

Project Engineer: *starts writing and repeating to himself under his breath* “Point zero zero zero—” *stops short and looks up* “…hahaha!” *drops pen* “Okay, I’ll just tell him it’s negligible. Thanks!”

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Tanking By The End Of Your Shift

| New Castle, DE, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Coworkers, Health & Body

(I tend to be one of those workers who will come in despite being sick and will work until I almost pass out or become physically ill. This story happens on one of those days. I happen across a toy train car that’s meant for transporting sea creatures, but the plastic animals barely move with how small the tanks are.)

Me: “But- but the tanks are too small for the critters.”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: *turning and gesturing at them with the toy, getting more distressed* “The tanks are too small for the critters.”

Coworker: “They aren’t real, you know.”

Me: “I know, but the tanks are too small for the critters.”

Coworker: “How about you just… go see [Manager]? Let her know how you’re doing.”

(I go and relay what happened to my manager, who stares at me for a long moment afterwards.)

Manager: “Well, do you think you can hang in there until [Coworker] comes in? If you can make it until then you can go ahead home, hun. Get some rest and get better.”

Me: “What about the critters?”

Manager: “The critters will be fine, [My Name].”

Me: “But… the tanks are too small.”

Manager: “Go take your fifteen.”

(I managed to make it until my coworker made it in, and ended up going home early. After some cold/flu medicine and some rest, I was no longer worried about the plastic sea creatures having room in their tanks.)