Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Stupid Questions at Work

Do you ever encounter someone who asks you a goofy question and you just want to go all Bill Engvall on them and hand them a sign? You know, one that says “I am a moron” on it? I know, sometimes people speak before they think, and it’s a common enough trait in the human species, but as the below stories will illustrate, sometimes we make it too darn easy to pick on ourselves.


Story 1:

I have a motorcycle. I am the only person in my building who owns one, let alone drives it to work. Every one of our 300 or so employees knows the bike by sight, as it’s fairly common to see it parked by the front door during the warmer months. I have special permission to park it there, granted by the VP herself, in order to save a parking space for someone else (parking is an issue where I work). This means the bike is visible from the front desk.

A few months ago I was walking by the front desk and the receptionist (who is a friend of mine, albeit elderly and slightly senile), sees me walking by, looks at the bike, then looks at me, and asks “Oh, did you ride your motorcycle today?”

I couldn’t help myself. I said “No, the darn thing followed me to work. I can never get it to stay home.”


Story 2:

On my desk is a small plank of wood. On said plank, the words “I love my dad” are carved, painted several different colors, and surrounded by little splashes of color. My daughter made this for me while she was at camp two summers ago and gave it to me as a Father’s Day present. It is very obviously something a child would make, which diminishes its value not one iota.

One day a coworker (‘nuther friend) walked by my desk and looked at this plank. She read it aloud “I love my dad,” and followed that up with “Did your kid make that for you?”

I shook my head and said “No, my wife made it.” Then I winked and added, in as lecherous a tone as I could manage and still keep a straight face, “she calls me Daddy.”


Story 3:

Motorcycle story(ies) again.

I was walking through the building on my way to the time clock. I was headed out for lunch with my helmet in my hand. Halfway there another friend of mine looks at the helmet, then asks me “Did you ride your bike today?”

I laughed and said “No. I like to carry the helmet around wherever I go because it makes me feel all manly.”

She did hit me, in case any of y’all are wondering, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Then, about a week later, going out the front door on my way to lunch yet again (and again, helmet in my hand), the receptionist did the same thing. “Did you ride your bike today?” Since she’d already been bitten by the snide bug, I let that one slide, but it took A LOT of willpower.


‘K, that’s enough for now. Especially since I am at work and supposed to be (cough cough) working.

Do you have any stories like this? Do ya? C’mon, we all must. Share with the group, folks.

See Y’all!

2 comments:

Aprilynne Pike said...

You ride a motorcycle?!?! That so hot!!! (Yanno, in a married person to other married person kind of way.;))

Also, you have a daughter? Why was I under the distinct impression that you had no children. Must pay more attention.

This isn't a work story (I haven't held an out of the home job for years) but about a year ago I was judging a district drama competition that was held at a high school on a Saturday. Well, Saturday school was supposed to have been held there but it was canceled due to the competition. So a bunch of these delinquents showed up anyway and could not be convinced to go home. ("Dude, I can't leave. I have to be here. I'll get in trouble if I miss.") They all, for some strange reason, decided to sit together on the stairs and commiserate the cancellation of Saturday school . . . okay, they were sitting there looking confused.

It was really hard to get by them because they were seriously sprawled all over the stairs. So I finally got frustrated and stood at the top of the stairs and said, loudly, "Can we not congregate on the stairs?"

About fifteen faces turned up to me and stared like I had three eyes or something. They didn't move.

"Please?" I added.

More looks.

Finally, one of the guys says, "What's congregate?"

Here's your sign.

Naomi said...

I used to get stupid customer questions all the time when I was working at WH Smith (sells books, newspapers, whatever you can imagine).

I was standing at the foot of the staircase arranging magazines when a nervous-looking young woman approached me, pointed up the stairs and asked "do these stairs go up?"

I also had a customer in Tesco supermarket ask me for "hard sugar". As opposed to what, one wonders.