Let's talk about funny work stories.

Negative ghost rider... hence my comment at the end. But it IS a work story that I knew a few folks would enjoy.

 

My company a computer system that was critical that it never go down. In a risk evaluation the lack of a second path to the internet was flagged as a priority project. The building was on the side of a hill and the data center was in the basement near the bottom of that slope. After weeks of planning the new route was determined. They would dig down next to the foundation, bore an 8" entry hole and trench in a new line in across the grass by the side of the building. The first day went fine and the entry hole was bored without incident. Day 2 went fine as well as the industrial sized Ditch Witch trenched in the pathway.

Day 2.5 didn't go so well. Sometime in the middle of the night the automatic sprinklers turned on. The Ditch Witch had cut multiple sprinkler lines and the trench guided all of the water right into that 8' hole in the wall of the data center. Holy crap what a mess! That data center had a water curse on it.

 

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When I graduated art school, I took the first job that, paid decent, had benefits, and would work around my side job of art installation and studio management. I drove a night bus. More specifically I drove a bus for a college that looped campus, housing, and the bars down town. So I had students riding for free out to the bars and back Wednesday through Saturday, 9pm to 3am. There are a lot of stories.

One night I picked up a group of friends heading out at the far end of my route. 4 or 5 college girls all dressed up and ready for a night out. They, I assume, had started the drinking already and were loud and a bit rowdy. I had to tell them not to hang from the hand rails, and no there was no radio they could pair their phones with to blast their “music”. We got down town and they were all thank yous and those college girl wooos that almost hurt the ears, and they wandered off. Hours later I’m slowly rolling through down town trying to get the last stragglers before they are stranded and I see this group waiting as one of my stops. I pull over and they are much worse for wear. They are missing shoes and one is carrying a plastic shopping bag and they all look like their night didn’t go to plan. I let them in and most of them make a quiet shaky way to the back of the bus and slump into the seats. One make it to the first seats and sits down. My route was 45 minutes or so each way. It could be driven in 20 but we had our timing points, and I was paid by the hour anyway so I drove all night at about 15mph trying not to hit red lights. So, This is a 40 foot city bus, and I tried to drive smooth and steady, which is harder than one would think in a vehicle that size. This night, with my unsteady passengers I figured smooth would be best. I was trying to keep their stomach contents in, as I would has to cleanup anything that came out of them. So we all headed off home. I didn’t hit a single light or a single bump the whole 40 minutes back to their apartments. I had won. No vodka puke. No drama. I pulled up and set me brakes, and opened the door. My passengers started to get up from the back and head toward the front. They were not as excited exiting this time, but the one who had been sitting near the front was not getting up. Her friends told her to get up as they passed, but she didn’t move. I got up and could now see she was crying quietly and was very drunk. Her friends were outside the bus, one of them throwing up into a small fountain near the entrance to their courtyard, so I told her she had to get off the bus because this was the end of the night. She looked up and me and said “you hate me” and started crying more. I told her, no I don’t hate you, but you have to go. She replied “I think you hate me, and I don’t want you to”. Again I told her it’s ok, I didn’t hate her and that really I got her home safe and that I was only making her leave because I had to take the bus back to the yard. She seemed to feel better, and asked me to help her up. I put out my hand and help her stand on her very unsteady high heeled feet. She then smiled at me and said, “I love you and it’s good to know you love me too. I’m sorry.” I laughed and said, “sorry for what?”. Then reality set in. This crying girl in her saturday best going out dress had just shit everywhere. I mean everywhere. Like a zoo animal. I must have had a look on my face that told her everything, because she started crying all over again and stormed off the bus telling her friends that I hated her. I stood in shock, and honestly, a bit of awe at the destruction this girl had wrought. One of her friends came up to apologize about her friend saying, “she doesn’t hate you. She’s drunk and we were out..... Jesus fucking Christ! Amber (not her name) did you shit on the bus?” I had no idea what to do. So I opened the roof vents and the side door, walk around and opened all the windows I could reach, set my sign to out of service, and drove off into the night. I got back to the yard, and did my post shift checks. Everything was in working order. I checked the box on the form for “bus needs cleaning” and the box for “biohazard” and went to turn in my paperwork. I got to the office handed in my clip board and the yard manager asked if the night was eventful. I said, “ I’m sorry” and headed out for the night. I saw him the next night and learned three things. First that bus had to have the seats removed to be cleaned fully, the cleaning crew earned 6 hours overtime for it, and third the yard manager had no sense of smell so he had to keep getting other people to smell this bus the whole next day. It became a running joke for a while at work. I saw that girl 10 or 12 more times that year, but she never even acknowledged the moment we held hands as she destroyed a bus with her terrible choices. Oh, the plastic grocery bag she had at the end of the night had her underpants in it. She has already pissed herself before the fateful ride home. She left them on the bus too.

Sorry that was long

 

I was really hoping at the end you would tell us this was the story of how you met your wife. That would have been epic.

 

The horror, the horror...

(Apocolypse Now for those who missed the reference)

 

Sorry not the real deal... hence my comment at the end. But it’s a great work story regardless.

 

The summer after my freshman year in high school l worked for my mom's cousin on his dairy farm. He owned two farms, he lived at the east farm, but milked and most of the work was at the west farm. He rented out the house at the west farm. The renter shot a six foot black snake and left it in the driveway. It was just about time for the farmers wife to come from the east farm to the west farm to start milking, so I took a board and picked up the dead black snake and hung it over the spring on the millhouse door. It sagged the spring down , but when you opened the door, it raised the snake right back up to eye level.
Now this lady, all 300 pounds of her, had never done anything to me, but I was young and dumb and full of cum . When she opened the milk house door, she let out a scream that the whole county heard. I swear you could feel the ground shake as those feet beat a retreat. If my boss hadn't just mowed a big field of hay to be bailed tomorrow ,I might have lost my job. A heartfelt apology and a promise to never do it again kept me working the rest of the summer.

 

you win. No porta john story can top that.

 

I have an airman (e3) who hasnt passed a PT test in over two years that has been on and off a "medical profile" who just spent $9000 to fly to miami to get a brazillian butt lift...I fear for the future of the AF sometimes.

 

He spent that much -or the AF spent that?

 

She and she did pay for it, but the Air Force authorized 30 days of leave for it. And willing to bet this individual will end up medically separated and will enjoy the disability claim / benefits that come with it having never deployed, etc...

 

You do know he's posted twice in this thread saying he is not and that it was not his personal work story. We all know he's not MAJ Schul, so what's your point? He said he wasn't twice now.

 

I kept 2 copies of this book on my desk and every time we hired a new Supervisor I handed them one of the copies and told them to read it and return it. When I retired in 2016 the Man that took my place asked me to please leave them so he could do the same thing.

 

I missed that, sorry

Sorry for the misunderstanding on my part.

 

In college I worked as a computer operator for an Air Force contractor. It was in the days of mainframe computers and the data center was full of equipment that looked like this.



In those days’ computers had hundreds of flashing lights that helped with programming and trouble shooting. As a computer operator my task was to run “jobs” by mounting the correct tapes, making sure paper was in the printers and running the correct programs. Every day when I arrived there would be a list of jobs that needed to be run. Most of the time it was pretty routine.

Except for the FLI job. Being this was the military everything had an acronym and FLI stood for Flash Lights Impressively. The job required you to put a tape on every reader, paper in every printer, and to sit at the operator’s station and look busy. All the program did was flash the lights in moving patterns, spin the tapes and print test patterns. Then the bigwig Air Force officers would walk through and be impressed. I often wondered if they knew it was just a light show?

 

Oh man, I have a lot of them over the years, but this one is quick and easy to tell...

At a company I worked at in the early 2000's we had these weird cubicle/offices. Basically they were a small office of your own but with no door. Your back was facing the corridor and I had a corner desk. So one day my buddy in the Engineering Dept sends me an email and we had horribly old and slow computers on a very slow network. So this email had an attachment and the title says check this out- I immediately know that it's something I need to be careful about but I click and nothing happens. A minute goes by and nothing so I move on, knowing it's just some porno or something I am sure is not important. Another minute goes by and the QC guy comes into my office to give me a report or something and this guy is the biggest nerd/a-hole you could meet. Hard to describe but he's painful to have to deal with. You just know this 25 year old has never been with a woman in his life, you can tell. So I turn around in my corner desk and start listening to him complain about something or another, my back is the computer screen, I'm facing him and the corridor and all of a sudden the kid goes white, staring at my computer screen. I turn around and my large screen monitor has a very high def video going of this woman cowgirl riding a massively oversized black dildo that is suction cupped to a coffee table. It's such a big dildo that her butthole is getting pushed out with every thrust and it's extremely high definition and detailed. Hilarious!