Category: Coworkers

Kissing Is All Better

| Toledo, OH, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Coworkers, Food & Drink

(I work at a large department store famous for its cash back system bearing its company name. We are understaffed and overstressed.)

Me: “Okay, I’m going out to organize the necklaces… again.”

Coworker: “Hey, spread some of that excitement over here, why don’tcha?”

(As I work, I noticed something on the shelf above me. It is a Hershey’s Kiss. I think maybe some little kid had left it, so I take it over to the counter.)

Me: “I found a Hershey’s Kiss over there.”

Coworker: “Lucky you.”

(An hour later, I am sorting jewelry sales on the other side of the department and came across another Hershey’s Kiss. I bring this one up and show it to a fellow employee.)

Coworker #2: “Hey, I found one too, by the customer service desk.”

(A few other people notice and come over.)

Coworker #3: “I found a few as well. They were in the women’s’ department.”

Coworker #4: “That’s so weird; I found three in the shoe section, all sitting on shelves.”

(Our boss approaches us then, holding a few Hershey’s Kisses by the paper.)

Boss: “Hey, anyone care to explain the invasion of Hershey’s Kisses all over the store?”

(He never understood why we all started laughing. We deduced that a generous, sweet-hearted customer had left them anonymously around the store in places we’d see them. We never did figure out who it was, but we were finding them for almost a week. Whoever you were, Hershey person, kisses from everyone at the store! That was the cutest thing ever!)

A Bad (Den)Mark Against Your Name

| New York City, NY, USA | Bosses & Owners, Coworkers, Extra Stupid, Geography

(I used to work at this location before I was transferred to a new location that I am much happier with. Every summer, we offer a tourist discount to any tourists who shows proof, like an ID or passport. An older couple and their adult son enter the store.)

Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Store]. Where are you visiting from?”

Adult Son: “We are from Denmark.”

Me: “Nice! We offer a 10% discount to tourists with passport.”

Adult Son: “Okay, great! I’ll look around to see what I would like.”

(I proceed to help him with questions about our products. He ends up spending a large amount, even with the discount.)

Me: “Thanks for shopping. Hope you have a safe trip back home!”

Adult Son: “Thanks! Have a good day.”

(With any promotion going on, corporate has us fill a tracking form to see the progress. I enter how much the tourist spent, and which country the person was from. It was until my former coworker stopped me to ask me this:)

Coworker: “How are you going to tell corporate that Denmark is a country?”

Me: “Because Denmark is a country in Europe…”

Coworker: “No, it’s not! It doesn’t sound like it.”

Me: “Denmark is a country in Europe! Do you want me to show you on a map?”

(I proceeded to pull up an image of the European map, and pointed to where Denmark is. She didn’t say anything, but shrugged her shoulders. I also showed her an article to show additional proof of Denmark’s European validity, which said “Kingdom of Denmark.”)

Coworker: “Oh look, it says ‘Kingdom of Denmark,’ so Denmark is part of England.”

Me: “No, Denmark is not part of the UK.”

Coworker: “But it says right there: ‘Kingdom of Denmark.’”

Me: “Yes, it says ‘Kingdom of Denmark,’ but they aren’t part of the UK. They are their own kingdom.”

Coworker: “Why would they call themselves a kingdom if they aren’t part of England? It sounded like Denmark is somewhere in America. It sounded very American.”

Me: “If I told you I am from York, would you think that I’m from York, Pennsylvania or York, England?”

Coworker: “I don’t know. I would think you’re from Pennsylvania because you speak like an American.”

(At times, my former manager calls the store to check any sales progress if she isn’t working. I answer the phone, and tell her the confusion my coworker had.)

Manager: “It’s okay, corporate doesn’t have to know YOU made a mistake. Just change the country to Italy, and they don’t have to know that you gave the discount to Denmark.”

Me: “But Denmark is a country in Europe!”

Manager: “No, it’s not. Just change it, and you’ll be fine.”

(Needless to say, I didn’t change it, and I didn’t get into trouble. The company opened a new location, of which I made the wise decision to transfer. I now work with a more intelligent crowd that definitely knows where Denmark is!)

Their IT Request Is Mount Doomed

| Arlington, VA, USA | Coworkers, Geeks Rule, Technology

(My company requires access to another entity which has their own user account requirements. I and three others were granted access in about a month’s time… but those other three people either left or let their accounts lapse. I’ve been trying for six months now to get other people access but I’m still the only one with access at this point.)

Program Director: “I see you sent an email out that I was cc’d on about getting our guys access. On the subject line you said this was a ‘User access quest.’ Did you mean quest or request?”

Me: “Considering that it took Frodo about six months to travel from the Shire to Mount Doom, I think we can safely classify this as a quest.”

Four Score And Half An Hour Earlier

| Canada | Coworkers, Lazy/Unhelpful, Time

(I have always disliked Coworker #1 for being lazy and sloppy with his work.)

Coworker #2: “[My Name], where is [Coworker #1]?”

Me: “It’s after four.”

Coworker #2: “So?”

Me: “Isn’t he done work at four?”

Coworker #2: “No, not until 4:30. Why would you think he only works until four?”

Me: “Because he always leaves at four.”

(It was a happy day for me indeed when he handed in his resignation.)

The Mother Of All Screams

| USA | Bizarre/Silly, Coworkers, Family & Kids

(I’m new, on my first week, training with a manager. So far, everything has been going very well. The phone rings and my manager gestures me to pick it up.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Motel]. This is [My Name]. How may I assist you?”

Old Lady: “Gimme [Manager].”

Manager: *mouths* “Who is it?”

Me: “Who is it?”

(The old lady pauses, then angrily screams Tarzan-like. It’s sounds like ‘EHAHHHEHHHHHAHHHH!’. It is earsplitting, and I have to hold the phone away.)

Me: “I’m… sorry? I don’t understand—”

(The old lady continues screaming it without taking a breath. Worried that she might be having a seizure, I look at my manager. She takes the phone and says hello but the old lady hangs up.)

Me: *bug eyed* “Wuh, what was that all about?”

Manager: *matter of fact* “My mom. She hates when you ask who she is. You should have said that I asked who it is.” *ignores my shock*

Me: “Riiight…”

(Thankfully the old lady didn’t call back ever again. I switched jobs soon after, and the same thing happened at my new job! Wow.)