50+ Single Jokes

A man obsessed with trains finally steals one and immediately crashes it, killing several people... At the trial, the man is found guilty of multiple murders and sentenced to death. Before he faces his sentence, he's offered a last meal, and asks for a single banana, which is given to him. The next day, he's led to the electric chair. They strap him in, pull the switch, and... nothing happens. There's never been a failure before. But because you cannot punish a person twice for the same crime, the court is forced to let him go free. Within a week's time, naturally, the man, who is obsessed with trains, goes and steals another one. He doesn't care that he can't drive it or that he failed catastrophically before; he is obsessed with trains and his only desire is to operate one. As before, he crashes it, and kills several people. Again, he stands trial, and again, he is sentenced to death, showing no remorse, only delight that he got to operate the train. His last meal request is a single banana. When he goes to the chair, the executioner pulls the switch, but nothing happens. He goes free again. The train-obsessed maniac, once more on the loose, wastes no time in hijacking a train and crashing it. His trial is speedy, because this has already happened twice, and he is sentenced to death. They ask him what he'd like for his last meal. "A single banana," he says. "Oh, no you don't, you son of a bitch. We're on to you, now. We know all about your little banana trick, and you're not escaping this time!" The guards refuse his request, and instead serve him a standard last meal of steak, potatoes, and berry cobbler. The next morning they strap him into the electric chair, pull the switch, and... nothing happens. "*Did you give him the banana?*" demands the head guard. "No, sir! He asked for the banana but we didn't give it to him, we swear!" says one of the guards. Turns out the banana had nothing to do with anything. He was just a really bad conductor.

An Irish dad calls his son in London the day before Christmas Eve and says, “I hate to ruin your day but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing.” “Dad, what are you talking about?” the son screams. “We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the father says. “We’re sick of each other and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Leeds and tell her.” The son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. “Like heck they’re getting divorced!”she shouts, “I’ll take care of this!” She calls Ireland immediately, and screams at her father, “You are NOT getting divorced. Don’t do a single thing until I get there. I’m calling my brother back, and we’ll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and hangs up. The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Sorted! They’re coming for Christmas – and they’re paying their own way"

A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank." Passenger: "Who?" Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time." Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody." Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy." Passenger: "Sounds like he was really something special." Cabbie: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman could do everything right.” Passenger: "Wow, what a guy!" Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman." Passenger: "How did you meet him?" Cabbie: "I never actually met Frank. He died and I married his wife."

A little girl asks her mother, “Mommy, how was I born?” Her mother, misty-eyed, smiled and replied: “Once upon a time your daddy and I decided to plant a wonderful little seed. Daddy put it in the earth, and I took care of it every single day. The little seed grew more and more leaves, and in a few months it turned into a beautiful healthy plant. So we took the plant, dried it, smoked it, and got so high that we fucked without a condom.”

Boss accused me of bullying so I requested punishment Years ago I worked in a semi-public sector job as part of a successful team helping make life easy for local businesses. Our team boss took a good job in the private sector and a new boss was recruited from a decent organisation similar to ours in a different part of the country. She worked compressed hours Monday-Thursday and was off on Fridays. A month or two in, and although the new boss was quite particular about things being done her way and had upset a couple of my colleagues by criticising their work, I'd had no problems with her. We had a team meeting where the boss said that our performance wasn't good enough (we were arguably the best in the country) and that she wanted to be more involved in what and how we did everything to ensure better quality and so we should copy her to every client email so she could comment as needed before we sent another reply. Although this seemed inefficient, nobody argued and I just asked her if I should wait until Monday for her to comment on any client emails received on a Friday. I can't remember exactly what she said, but at the end of the meeting she asked me to stay behind and then told me in a heated tone that my question was "bullying behaviour", that it was "unprofessional" to ask the question in front of the team, and said that my actions were the sort of thing that HR would see as grounds for dismissal and that I should be "very careful" in future. I told her I understood and we returned to our desks where I wrote up every single detail of the entire meeting and interaction and sent it to the Head of HR with the explanation that as bullying was very serious and may not be reported by the victim, I felt duty-bound to report myself. I also laid it on pretty thick about being appalled by my unprofessional behaviour and the fact that my career was likely at risk and I clearly had a desperate need for training and discipline to fix my dangerous ways. I also copied in my union rep. Within a day me, my union rep, and my boss were with the Head of HR who, being a 'by-the-book' professional, could find no indication of bullying or justification for my fears of being an unprofessional bully in need of re-education. I was asked to leave the meeting. My union rep stayed in and I don't know what was said but within 6 weeks my boss was gone and that same week my (weak and ineffective but likeable) big boss called me in to thank me as he had wanted to get rid of her but hadn't known how.

Boss said I cant just disappear from my desk so now I send him a message every time I leave We had a team meeting where my boss said people are just getting up and disappearing without telling anyone and its unprofessional. So now I message him on Teams every single time. "Stepping away for restroom." "Going to grab coffee." "Printer run." I dont wait for a response I just let him know. Last week I sent him 9 messages in one day. On Friday he replied "you dont need to tell me every time you move" and I said "just wanted to make sure Im being professional like you asked." He hasnt brought it up since.

My wife screamed "you haven't listened to a single word I've said, have you?!" What a weird way to start a conversation..

A man is buying a banana, an apple and two eggs. The female cashier says: "You must be single." The man answers: "Wow, how did you know?" Cashier: "Because you're ugly."

Said something to my doctor performing my vasectomy she had never heard. I'm disappointed in you all if you don't say it. So I'm laying on the table, pants off and ready to be snipped. The doctor makes sure all her tools are ready, then asks: "Are you ready Redbaron1701?" I responded with: "Sure. Go nuts." She had to step away from the table she was laughing so hard. She said no one jokes during their vasectomy, and she had never heard that one. Be better. Joke with your dick doc. Edit: holy hell every single one of you has given me a dad joke and I can't even begin to sort them. Edit 2: my top post is now a joke about my testicles. Reddit is alive and well.

If a single stick is called a "fag", and a bundle of "fags" is called a "faggot", then what do you call a group of "faggots"? A "subreddit"

A mob drags a man into a police station for running over 13 people, while shouting "Murderer!" "Killer" A mob drags a man into a police station for running over 13 people, while shouting "Murderer!" "Killer " The policeman disperses the crowd and begins to interrogate the suspect. The policeman :" Tell me what happened. " The suspect :" Sir I was driving home within the speed limit when my brakes failed. I had no choice but to crash the car into a group of 12 people or to swerve into a single person. Am I a monster for deciding to swerve into the single person? " Policeman :" No, that sounds like a difficult yet reasonable decision. But tell me how did you end up killing 13 people? " Suspect :" Well that selfish guy ran towards the other 12."

Take the chairs away from our work area? We're gonna fuck this place up. I work for a major US airline, for a long time and at several different airports. There's an area behind the baggage counter where the bags get sorted for their respective flights after they've been checked, we're on our feet most of the time but we each have chairs at our work stations so we can sit and rest for a minute when there's a lull in bags coming down. Every few years there'll be a hot shit new manager who's gonna turn this airport around and make it the best performing one in the system and they all seem to have the same idea; take away the chairs so the agents are always standing at the belt. Now, the agents in this area are generally on the senior side as it's indoors and out of the elements, we've done the job for a while, we know how to do the job efficiently and we really do do our best to avoid fuck ups but as long as human error is a factor there will always be some. Taking our chairs does nothing but piss us off. Their bullshit excuse usually is framing it as a saftey issue, a tripping hazard. So that's where *we start*...smaller or oddly shaped bags get sent down in a plastic tub so they don't jam the belt, maybe you've seen them. We take them off the belt and stack them up on the ground for someone to come by and collect. Not anymore, we let them pile up on the belt making it a giant pain in the ass for the poor bastard collecting them, they're bitching constantly to the manager, we say sorry boss, they're a tripping hazard on the ground. Next, we start following the rules...our employee handbook lays out very clearly what the company's expectations for us our in our job duties. We're only expected to pull *one bag per minute* and take bags out no later than *20 minutes before the flight departs*. Maybe you've guessed already but those expectations are **nowhere** near good enough to actually complete these tasks so by the company's own rules we were already going well beyond what was expected of us. We start giving them the bare minimum, one bag per minute, 20 minutes prior. Manager was pissed, he and the supervisors were throwing bags and us being unionized we documented and grieved every single time it happened and the company a few days later had to pay out several thousand to agents for covered work. Delays across the board, 1500 bags missed that day. The next morning the chairs were back in their spots and we continued as normal and afterwards no one would give that manager the time of day. **A lot of passengers got fucked over that day but we were working exactly to the rules our company had given us so you can blame the airline and not the agents**. The handbook was changed after a while but only extending it to 35 minutes prior instead of 20, it's still one bag per minute last I looked. I was lucky enough to be apart of three of these events over the years but this was the most satisfying.

I have decided to make a subreddit for people who have an interest in farting during sex It's called r/interestingasfuck . Edit: someone made a comment saying that they said this out loud to their partner and are fairly certain they are now single, then minutes later I received a helpful award.

My wife tried to unlatch our daughter's car seat with one hand and said, "How do one armed mothers do it?" Without missing a beat I replied, "Single handedly." She didn't laugh but I hope you folks did.

Landlord Maliciously Complianced Themselves This happened a few years ago, in my last apartment. My roommate and I were living in a basement place with upstairs neighbors, and the owner decided he wanted to sell. The upstairs neighbors ended up buying it, and became our new landlords. And they ... were awful at it. I could fill a whole post with the amount of stuff they tried to get away with, but we're here to talk about one particular instance. But suffice to say, they had no idea that landlords had "responsibilities" and simply saw us tenants as a source of income that should be *ever growing* (hence our rent suddenly spiking, and why we left). But there was one time they maliciously complianced themselves. See, they had a habit of trying to push stuff on us that was blatantly illegal. Their first contract, for example, said among other things that they had the right to enter the apartment at any time they wanted and could go through our stuff if they wished because we were "living on their property." I pointed out that this was *highly* illegal, and they grew very upset, saying "Well, we'll see about that." This clause later suddenly became the real one before we signed. One day, however, our lone fire alarm stopped working. As dutiful tenants, we reached out and said "Hey, the fire alarm stopped working." Their response was a predictable sort of 'So what?' "We need to have a working fire alarm," we replied. "And it's the landlord's duty to provide working fire alarms." "No it's not. You want one, you get it." "The law says otherwise." And here's where they maliciously complianced themselves. Possibly because they were getting tired of being corrected, they got snooty with this one. We got a *very* sarcastic response. "Oh, it *does*, does it? Well, we'll just see what the FIRE MARSHAL has to say about THAT!" Me and my roommate, upon recieving this message, burst out laughing. But they were serious. They thought they were going to contact the fire marshal, he was going to side with them, and then they could come down on us hard. I don't know what their expressions were when we said "Okay, yeah do that!" However ... The next morning there's *frantic* knocking at our door. There's the landlord and his family, looking very concerned, with a **bag** of brand-new fire alarms, one for each room and IIRC even two spares. He begs to be let in outside of the 24-hour notice, and says its an emergency: He has to put these alarms up RIGHT NOW. Trying not to laugh, we let them in, and they hurridly put one in every single room, apologizing profusely for the "delay" and telling us "if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask!" I don't know how that meeting with the fire marshal went, or if they got him or someone else at their office, but their attitude painted a pretty clear picture of the ultimate result. They complied maliciously, thinking they'd called our bluff. Whoops.

Customer always found a mistake - so we complied This goes back to around 1990s. I was an independent designer for a few different printing businesses in the South suburbs of Chicago. Back then computers were fairly new and print shops were still old school. Those inserts you found in newspapers? They were still hand lettered back then!!! I'd design brochures and flyers, laser-print proofs, scan photos (a 150 dpi HP scanner was $1200 - that's like $5K today!) and so on. Anyway, one of the print shops had a customer that ALWAYS found an error, would demand a new proof, and not authorize the job until he signed off on the new proof. Every. Single. Time. "This line is crooked" "This word is too dark" and so on. So we came up with a solution. I'd do two proofs. One was the original, accurate one. The other has an obvious intentional mistake. He'd catch the "mistake" and ask for a new proof. He'd be told to come back in an hour (it was usually a day or two.) He'd come back and be shown the 2nd proof. He approved it every time. Demand that there's always a mistake? Here you go!

Accused of stealing/embezzling electricity from employer For almost two decades I worked security in office buildings, night shift, so I could work on my novel drafts. At work, in the idle hours between rounds and other security duties, I wrote on an iPad with bluetooth keyboard and I had connected their chargers to the electric outlets in my security reception desk. \[I get a lot of comments on how I shouldn't write at work and that was why I was singled out. These commenters are wrong. They do not understand that my work was 'guarding' an empty office after hours between 23.00-07.00 hours. This involved a maximum of two hours of actual work (walking rounds, checking if all the keycards had been returned, answering phone calls), leaving six hours to pass the time and stay awake. Most of my coworkers filled that time with non-productive activities like watching TV, playing games, filling out crossword puzzles. Others were college students who studied for their exams or wrote on their thesis. And I knew this beforehand, which is why I chose a low paying job way below my level specifically because I would have hours to read books and write on my novels. They could only fire me if I fell asleep or didn't follow up on alarms, but not for spending the 'idle hours' writing.\] I had a manager who had a personal problem with me and tried to get me fired. Since I performed my duties above average, he had to find a way to get me on something else. So, one day, I was called to HQ for a meeting with my manager and ~~a floozy from HR~~ a young female intern from the Human Resources department who spent the whole meeting flirting with my idiot manager (who was married to the company owner's daughter). I was accused of theft. Stealing electricity for my laptop. I told them that if they wanted to accuse me, they had to do it properly. I hadn't committed theft. I had committed embezzlement, since the electricity was part of my reception area and under my supervision. Therefore, embezzlement is a vastly more insidious crime and they should send me home and gather the disciplinary committee to judge whether I should be fired for this crime and I would confer with my union rep. They immediately retracted their accusation and stopped bothering me with their nonsense. All my colleagues charged their devices from company outlets, so their accusation would mean every employee could be arrested for electricity embezzlement. Then the irate manager hung up a sign in the security area that nobody was allowed to charge their personal devices. So I took a typewriter to work, so I didn't need to charge my writing implements. Also, I had a Nokia that would hold a charge for several days, but my coworkers had smartphones that needed juice, so they got angry at management for signs about not being allowed to charge their phones and that complaint spread to other locations, forcing the management to remove the signs and allow people to charge their phones again, and I could hook up my iPad+BT keyboard again. Addendum: The 'stealing electricity' was just a rage-bait excuse to provoke me to get into an emotional outburst to my manager, so he could fire me for insubordination. Instead, my response made him escalate to posting signs about the petty electricity rule that angered my coworkers with management. Commenting on the cost of electricity misses the point - it was never about the theft of electricity. The accusation was intentionally ridiculous to provoke a quarrel. Also, in the Netherlands the novel that I write is my intellectual property and there is no legal clause in our contracts that the company should get financially compensated for part of the novel been writing 'under company time'.

"You Don't Sound Sick to Me" **Edit**: I am not an American. I used to work as a researcher in an in-bound call center. I loved the work, and the company was FANTASTIC when I started. But after 4 years they got bought out by a big international corp (a pretty standard hack and slash corp = buy up a profitable company, strip it of all assets, cut costs, slash quality, make good money until our well-deserved fantastic reputation is destroyed, then sell off and move on). Within weeks the company went from being fantastic to work for to just yet another shitty, tense work environment where the bosses take advantage of the employees. One quick example of how badly they nerfed the bonus structure - one particular bonus went from being able to earn up to a thousand extra dollars in 3 days to a single $50 Boston Pizza gift card. Previously all employees got paid varying bonuses under this scheme, but in the new system, only one person gets the gift card. And they had the nerve to get mad at us when the new, slap-in-the-face "bonus" failed to motivate anyone. I was good at my job, and not to brag but I was the most productive employee on the floor. We were given 15 PTO (Paid Time Off) days to use every year, which according to our employment contracts and company handbook were to be used for sick days, mental health days, and other personal reasons. No explanation was ever asked for, use them as and when you will. I always made sure to use up all my PTO by the end of the year as it didn't bank, previous management encouraged us to do so, and also there was no bonus for not using it. I followed the company rules, always gave plenty of notice, and only once left the team dangling with no notice (as I got seriously ill that time). The new management takes over and right away they start trying to intimidate us into not taking PTO. I hear a lot of this from my fellow employees, how when they call in the supervisors have started grilling them, challenging them, saying they "don't sound sick", etc. A lot of intimidation and bullying. So by the time I need to use a PTO day, I'm ready. I call in one day and tell them I won't be in tomorrow. They want to know "Why?", so I tell them I'm not feeling well. Their voice grows immediately cold, and they get a rude tone. "You don't sound sick to me". Being a smart-ass, I said, "Not even doctors try to diagnose illnesses over the phone" but they kept trying to push me. "Can you come in in the afternoon? You don't sound sick. You've been using a lot of sick days, way more than other employees." I got tired of being treated like a criminal for obeying the rules, so I got a recording app for my phone. I live in a one-party consent area so it's perfectly legal to record phone calls. Next time I felt sick I called in to work. Now they always began every call with a disclaimer "Thank you for calling XXX, for your information this call may be monitored or recorded for quality purposes". I say hello, give them my name, and say "BTW, just so you know on my end, this call may be monitored or recorded for quality purposes". Because I am recording the call, and I think it's only fair to let them know. The supervisor gives a perfunctory laugh, then says"So why are you calling in sick? You don't sound sick to me. I'll put you down as sick for the morning but you'll be in for the afternoon." I inform them that no, I am calling in for at least 1 day and will update if I don't feel better. She says "No, I'll put you down for half a day, you can call in again if you don't feel better." Once again I say no, restate my position, and tell them that is that. She gets really pissy and and starts insinuating that this might cause me to lose my job. "Why do you take so much more PTO than the other employees?" I take what my employment contract says I am entitled to. No more, no less. "Well, you should have a better team spirit, we'll have to review this with HR." Threatening tone, classical bullying playbook. I'm off the next day, come in for my following shift. "Go see HR". I sit down at Art's desk in HR (he's very much a corporate HR lapdog). He starts going on about how they're going to have to review my employment contract and consider whether or not going forward I am a "good fit" at XXX corp. Now in case I seem too calm in this scenario, bear in mind that, while I do prefer to remain at XXX for the time being, I do not care if they want to fire me. I'm very good at my job, I have had several job offers from competing companies, so the threat of being fired does not faze me. While Art is berating me, I take out my phone, and start playing the recording I made when calling in sick. Art stops, starts to get annoyed, then realizing he's listening to a recording of an employee verbally berating and intimidating a worker for exercising their contractual, legal rights. He excuses himself, and is gone for about 10 minutes, before returning, visibly angry but restrained. He tried to dress

People say to me Jesus was not Jewish ## I say ofcourse he was Jewish + 30 years old, Single, Living at home with his parents + Working in his father's business + His mother thought he was God's gift ## He's Jewish. Give it up **** _by Robin Williams_ Happy Birthday Robin!

A young man went into confession crying, and told the priest: “Forgive me father for I have sinned”. “What have you done?” asked the priest. “A few weeks ago I went to the library. I remained there until closing time and when I was about to go home, rain started pouring down. It was so intense I had to wait in the library. I had waited for a while with the librarian, a young attractive single girl, then one thing led to another, and I ended up sleeping with her”. The man stopped talking but kept weeping. “Well don’t cry, it’s a sin but it is not that bad. You should say 5 Hail Marys and it will be forgiven”. Said the priest. “But it doesn't end there” the man kept sobbing. “a few days later my elderly neighbor asked me to help her with her computer. Her husband was hospitalized and she couldn't send an email to her son. I went there and fixed the problem, but when I was about to leave, rain started pouring down. It was really stormy and I had to wait. One thing led to another and I ended up sleeping with the old lady” the man cried. “Oh dear well that makes it harder indeed, but still - you should say 15 Hail Marys and you will be forgiven” Said the priest. “Oh I’m afraid the worst part is still ahead” cried the man. “Yesterday I went to the barber. I was his last client that day. As soon as he finished and was about to close the shop rain started pouring down so intensely, I had to wait with him. One thing led to another and I ended up sleeping with him as well” the man cried. “Oh dear, it is indeed worse than I thought” said the priest. “So what should I do father?” the man asked. “Well” answered the priest, “you should get the fuck out of here before it starts raining!”.

You want to review every client interaction? Perfect, your Inbox is about to blow up I've been working at this small marketing agency for just over a year now. It's my first "real" job after college, and I've been thrilled to have actual clients and responsibilities. Well, I was thrilled until we got a new account manager, Debbie (not her real name, obviously). Debbie came from one of those corporate mega-agencies where apparently they micromanage the living daylights out of everyone. From day one, she had "concerns" about my communication style with clients. Mind you, I'd been praised by these same clients for being responsive and helpful. Last month, after I sent what I thought was a perfectly normal email to our biggest client about a small scheduling change, Debbie called an emergency meeting. "From now on, I need to approve ALL client communications before they go out," she announced with that fake smile managers use when they're being unreasonable but pretending they're helping you. "Everything. Emails, phone call notes, text messages, meeting agendas. Send them to me first for review." When I pointed out that this would slow down our response times, she just waved her hand dismissively. "It's about quality control. Better to be right than fast." Fine. You want ALL communications? You got it. I started that very afternoon. Every. Single. Thing. If a client asked what time a call was scheduled, I drafted an email response and sent it to Debbie. "Awaiting your approval on this time confirmation." If a client texted asking for a quick file, I'd screenshot it and email Debbie. "Please approve my response to this text message." I even created a special folder in my drafts called "Awaiting Debbie's Approval" and set up an automated counter. By the end of day one, I had sent her 17 approval requests. By the end of week one, it was over 100. The best part? I stopped answering my phone when clients called. Instead, I'd let it go to voicemail, then email Debbie: "Client X called about Y. My proposed response is attached. Please approve." After about two weeks, Debbie was drowning. She'd fallen behind on approving my communications, which meant clients weren't getting responses. They started escalating to her directly, which doubled her workload. The breaking point came when our biggest client emailed both of us complaining about delays. I responded to the client with: "I've forwarded your concerns to Debbie for approval of my response. Once approved, I'll get back to you promptly." The next morning, Debbie stopped by my desk looking exhausted. "I think we need to adjust our approval process," she said, trying to maintain her corporate dignity. "Moving forward, just use your judgment for routine communications. Only send me things that involve project scope, timeline changes, or budget discussions." "Are you sure?" I asked innocently. "I have about 30 draft responses waiting for your review right now." She visibly cringed. "That won't be necessary anymore." I've been happily sending emails without approval for two weeks now. Debbie barely makes eye contact in the hallway, and honestly, that's fine by me. The best part? My quarterly review is coming up, and all those approval emails are documented proof that I've been trying my absolute best to follow company protocol. Sometimes malicious compliance is the best teacher.

"You need to message me when finish with a client before going to the next one". As you wish. A few years ago, I worked as a tech support guy/salesperson at a small, family-owned computer store in my hometown. It wasn’t a franchise, just a local shop. The owner? A mustached, arrogant dude who could never admit when he was wrong. No matter what went wrong, it was always someone else’s fault. That constant blame game was a big reason why I ended up quitting, but that’s another story. At the time, my main job was delivering products to clients and doing on-site tech support at their homes or businesses. Now, for some context: My boss was obsessed with the idea that I was “too slow” during client visits. No matter how long I actually took, be it 5 minutes or 2 hours, it was always too much in his eyes. He couldn’t seem to understand that tech problems vary and can take different amounts of time to fix. And of course, he loved to compare us to past employees. “Back when So-and-So worked here, he was way faster than you!” Funny thing is, I knew that when *So-and-So* worked there, the boss used to say *he* was slow and someone *else* was better. That was just his thing: guilt-tripping whoever was working for him at the time. Fast forward a bit: One day, he was in an extra bad mood and decided that from now on, I should **message him every single time I finished with a client and wait for his reply before moving on**. Same thing when I arrived somewhere, message him to say I’d arrived. He wanted this done through WhatsApp, SMS, or even a phone call. If I didn’t have credit, I was supposed to make a *collect call* (where the person receiving the call pays, not sure how common that is elsewhere). Basically, he didn’t trust that I was working and thought I might be wasting time between clients or just riding around town. Spoiler: there’s not much to see. I was annoyed, but sure, whatever. Rules are rules. Day one: I followed the rule *to the letter*. Arrived at a client? Message. Finished the job? Message and wait. I lost way more time waiting for responses than I ever did between jobs, but okay. Day two: same deal. Morning went by. After lunch, I loaded up the bike with deliveries and gear and headed out. First client of the afternoon: Messaged when I arrived. He replied. Fixed the issue. It didn’t even take 30 minutes, so I messaged when finished. No response. Waited 5 minutes. Nothing. Called him. No answer. Waited another 5 minutes. Still nothing. So I sat down on the curb, under a tree, and waited. Watched some videos, scrolled through Facebook, chatted with friends. And I waited. And waited. Almost 3 hours passed. I just sat there, doing nothing, waiting on the guy who demanded that I never move on without his go-ahead. Eventually, my phone rang. Boss: “Where are you??” Me: “Still at client X’s place.” Boss: “STILL?? He was the first one this afternoon! The day’s almost over! Just go back here.” Me: “On my way back now.” I got back to the store and was greeted by him practically foaming at the mouth. “Why the hell did you take so long?! You’re so slow!” I looked him straight in the eye. “I was following your rule. You told me to notify you every time I finished a client and wait for your reply before moving on. You didn’t respond, so I waited. I’d never go against your orders.” He froze. Just stared at me. He didn’t know what to say. Then he tried to backpedal. “Well, you should use common sense! If I didn’t answer, it’s because I was busy!” Turns out he’d spent the whole afternoon dealing with contractors and problems at his house renovation, and just completely forgot he’d given me that rule. Needless to say, that rule was never mentioned again. I went back to the old way of doing things. But, of course, he still kept complaining that I “took too long” with clients. Some things never change.

An African Lumberjack An African lumberjack is interviewing for a job at a major logging company. The foreman decides to take a practical route and hands the lumberjack an axe. "Take a couple swings at that tree over there." The foreman said. The lumberjack walks over to the tree and fells it in a single chop. "Holy smokes, you've got quite the arm! You're absolutely hired, but I need to know what you can do. Try your hand at this tree over here." The foreman points out a much larger tree. One, two swings and the tree crashes to the ground. "That's incredible!" Cried the foreman. "Wherever did you learn to chop like that?!" "In the Sahara Forest." Replied the lumberjack. "Don't you mean the Sahara Desert?" Asked the foreman. "That's why I'm here." [Credit](http://www.reddit.com/r/Jokes/comments/2u248l/a_woodchopper_from_the_middle_east_is_looking_for/)

Boss looked like a fool courtesy of me I worked as a recruiter for a temp agency when I was young and fresh out of college. The manager of the agency was a total micromanager and wanted a say in absolutely everything. She micromanaged everyone so badly that she wanted to proofread any emails that any staff member was sending externally. She also want to be CCed on every single outgoing external email. One day one of my coworkers got a response back from an employer who gave some positive feedback about the email she wrote. Our manager made sure to reply all and take credit for the email and explained she oversees all outgoing emails. A few days later in a staff meeting she made a point of saying she should get credit for any feedback the agency receives since she proofreads everything. The thing is, this manager was not well spoken or smart and not even a particularly good writer. I regularly spotted issues with her sentence structure and use of commas but just didn't say anything. One day she's proofreading one of my emails that would be going externally to an employer who pumped a lot of money into our agency. I was stating in the email that I thought so-and-so was a great fit for their vacant position based on so-and-so's past experience. Miss Manager comes to my desk and tells me the email looks good except it should read 'passed experience.' I told her that was incorrect and she told me I was wrong and she knows the difference between the two words. I wasn't in the mood to argue so I wrote it as 'passed experience'' and CCed Miss Manager on the email. The employer writes me back and says as an employer who hires people to work on printed literature they wanted to correct me and let me know it's actually 'past experience.' That's where malicious compliance kicked in. I hit reply all and thanked them for the feedback and explained my manager values all feedback and since she proofreads all outgoing emails, she was the one who insisted on writing 'passed experience.' The next day she announced she no longer wanted to proofread outgoing external emails and didn't want to be CCed on them any further. Malicious compliance put that witch in her place!

You must be single... A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected: a half-gallon of 2% milk, a carton of eggs, a quart of orange juice, a head of romaine lettuce, a 2 lb. can of coffee, and a 1 lb. package of bacon. As she was unloading her items onto the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind her was watching. While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single." The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single. She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections that could have tipped of the drunk to her marital status. Curiosity getting the better of her, she said, "Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on Earth did you know that?" The drunk replied, "'Cuz you're ugly."

Raheem is a 6 year old Pakistani kid who walks 8 miles to school every single day. He often arrives late to class. With just a small and generous donation of $1 per person, we can buy a whip and make the little bastard run to school.

She thought I was working that day. I was-just not at that store. This is pretty complicated so sorry it’s going to be long. TLDR at the bottom. In the early years of being a pharmacist, jobs in my city were hard to come by. I managed to get full time hours by working for a couple of pharmacist friends at both of their stores. They would work out my schedule together and put an X on my schedule on the days I was at the opposing store. One store was downtown and one was in the suburb I lived in. At the suburb pharmacy I had a coworker “Dee” who could just not wrap her brain around the fact that if there was an X by my name I was in fact working… just at the other store. Multiple times I would have call after call on my cell phone and hang ups on my answering machine at home because she wanted me to cover her shift at the suburb store when I was already working downtown. Worst thing was my cell phone charged me for every single call so after the second time of her pulling this I would get downtown and immediately pull the battery off my phone. This made her angry at me for “ignoring” her and we had a tepid relationship after that. Time went on and the suburb store started expanding their nursing home operation so I was able to work there full time instead. I still had a great relationship with the downtown store and they had me keep the keys in case of emergencies. They would occasionally come up and the X would be on the schedule by my name. Sadly Dee became the assistant manager and now thought she was “the boss” of me. Now downtown pharmacist’s daughter was getting married and suburb pharmacist was invited to all the festivities. I got scheduled to work the Thursday before at the downtown store. The X went by my name on the suburb schedule. I was also going to the wedding -I was good friends with the daughter but missing the Mendhi party on the Thursday I was working for her mum. I was on the phone with her on my break one time and she was saying how sorry she was I was missing it and I said “don’t worry I’ll just doodle brown sharpie all over my hands and pretend I was there when we aren’t busy”. Now at that exact week we were getting new pharmacy software downloaded. Nursing homes are run on a batch system where all the labels are run about 5 days before and then all the bubble packs are made up during that time and then the actual billing is done on the Thursday for the meds to be delivered Friday. Dee decided that she did not want the batch to be done and just wanted everything to be processed and made up on the Thursday for just this first week. My technician was freaking out so I just told her to make up the usual drug cards (Lipitor, aspirin 81, multivitamin, Altace etc) without any patient data just to help speed things along. Dee overheard and told the tech that she wasn’t allowed to do that and “this younger generation is just scared of hard work”. I panicked a bit because I was the only one of my age (gen X) as all my coworkers were boomer aged or older. I went and checked the schedule… yep there’s an X by my name…. I won’t be there for the sh*tshow but somehow Dee thinks I am? Why should I tell her any different. Thursday rolls around and at 12:30 my cell phone starts blowing up. It’s in my purse in the safe because I don’t get a lunch break (only pharmacist) and everyone can hear it. Out comes the battery. I get home after work and there’s screaming and swearing on my answering machine. A locum pharmacist worked the morning shift and wasn’t instructed to do anything so everything was left for Dee when she arrived at 12:30. She had to work late to finish over 500 prescription drug cards. I come in the next day and she’s still furious. “You said you were working! I heard you talking about the effing mendhi thing”. I told her I was working just not at that store as evidenced by the X by my name. I learned then that she could eavesdrop on the break room from one place in the pharmacy when she herself was the only pharmacist working at the time. All my breaks were taken in my car after this. TLDR Co-worker tried to make my day absolutely hell by trying to make me do 5 days of work in one day…. a day that I wasn’t working so she had to do it.

Customer complained I was "rude"; TL;DR at end So, a couple weeks ago my boss gave me a taking to. For reference I work at a very small independent neighborhood coffee shop. I know most of the regulars by order and the newbies I can generally give a good time to. This particular customer, regular though she is, is absolutely garbage. Rude, entitled, belittling, disrespectful; you name it. Usually I try to give minimal interaction, but one day I apparently didn't do things *just right* So I get to work one day, and the boss tells me he's gotten a complaint. Now, I've been there for almost 13 years, and aside from the growing pains of starting what is the equivalent of a coffee shop version of a dive bar, I have had complaints that I can count on one hand. Anyway, he goes on to tell me that a customer has complained that I've been rude/dismissive, etc... I say, okay. I will definitely be mindful of things with this customer moving forward Cue malicious compliance Every. Single. Time. I have seen her since, she gets the absolute, over-the-top, stepford barista treatment. Think June Cleaver ratcheted up to 13. Just pouring on the 'midwestern nice' like a thick saccharine syrup. I've been doing this for at least two maybe two and a half weeks. And, believe me when I say that it drives me absolutely out of my mind to do it. It takes so much energy to treat this human this way. Except today. Today I gave her the exact same treatment as I have been. Except today she made a crucial error. She let it slip that the way I talk to her is irritating. When I tell you I haven't had such a rush of happy brain chemicals in almost a decade, it's not a lie. And, now that I know it annoys her, it'll keep happening. Because now, it's not going to take excess energy to do it. Now it's fueled by spite. TL;DR: customer complained I was rude, so I'm "killing her with kindness" and she finds it irritating. Ergo, I will never stop Edit: someone pointed out an error in my recollection timeline. Mea maxima culpa

You want me to resign? Well, good luck without me! Disclaimer 1: On mobile and English is not my first language, so apologies for any mistakes and bad formatting. Disclaimer 2: Labor laws in my country probably differ from labor laws in your's, so I'll try to explain them when they are important to the story. It is going to be a long one, sorry about that For the last 10 years I've been working from home as automation engineer for a relatively small company what produced custom-built industrial gas treatment units (industrial chillers, compressors stations, that sort of thing). My job was to write algorithms for PLCs, design HMI, and setting up data transfer for customers SCADA systems. Basically I was the person who told machines what to do. I was getting significant below market pay for such position, but with only 4-5 project per year and each taking me 2-3 weeks to complete, I wasn't arguing, since I was getting paid for mostly doing nothing and I was fortunate enough to have considerable passive income thanks to lucky investments of my inheritance. Everything was great until couple years ago, when owner decided to retire and sold the company. So here comes new managment with new policies. In my country every worker entitled to at least 4 weeks of paid vacation time per year all unspent vacation is rolled other to the next year, but you have to take at least 2 uninterrupted weeks per year, so if you only take your mandatory vacation, you accumulate 14 additional days per year. Given how much free time I actually had I rarely used more than mandatory 2 weeks per year, always making sure what there be no commissioning or maintenance planned during my vacation (During these events I would remotely access maintenance engineer's laptop to make neccessary adjustments to the algorithms, so everything works perfectly in real working conditions). But one of the first policies new managment implemented was schedule based vacations. So now O had to decide when I take my 2 weeks at the start of the year. I chose first weeks of April. In early March I get a call from manager of the development team who asks me to come on a quick 3 day work trip to help maintenance engineer switch plc and upload new project. Apparently thanks to new maintenance team manager a lot of maintenance engineers quit and they are short stuffed and the only one they can send atm is bad with computer. "Where isn't much for me to do, since we had identical station going through the same plc switch month prior, so I'll just fly there, chill, until electrical panel is rewired, new plc is installed, when I just upload new project to plc and fly home" - I thought for myself and agreed to go. Apparently maintenance engineer not only bad with computers, but also knows nothing about electrical work, so I had to do everything myself which I am not actually qualified to do, but at this point I don't want to disappoint client, who turned out to be a bunch of really nice people, so after a week and with only 3 burned down fuses I finished. After returning home I inform my manager what I am not going to any more business trips since I don't get paid enough to also do maintenance engineer's work. First say of my vacation comes and I get another call. Despite my poor judgment I decided to answer: - Hey, we need tou to go on another business trip starting next Monday, it will just take a week, it for *this project* - I'm not familiar with that project, it was done while I was on paternity leave (in my country either parent can take paternity/maternity leave up to 3 years and after first 6 months my wife asked me to switch). - Yeah, we had to contract a specialist to do that project while you are on leave, I'll send it to you along with documentation right away. *disconnects* I check recieved project and it is huge - 7 PLC's, 6 HMI panels, everything has to work as a single system, and project is a total mess, nothing would work, you just has to do everything from scratch, will probably take me close to a month to finish. And that is with doing everything from comfort of my own home where I am more productive. So I call back: - Yeah, I looked at this project and that's a mess, it's not in the working condition and no way to finish it in a week. I'll do what I can do, but as I said last time, I'm doing it remotely, as always, I won't go on another business trip, especially now, I have to many things planned for the next few weeks, I can't go. - But reception on site is terrible, you won't be able to access it remotely. And we already missed all deadlines on this project, client is pissed and we are looking at huge fines. CEO is breathing down my neck, we need it fixed yesterday. - Then I'll email maintenance engineer project with changes each eavning once he is in hotel with decent reception and he can email me list of things what need fixing, it's not the first time we done it that way. - Ok, I hear you, I'll have to speak with CEO abo

You said you wanted an ad with only one color. You got it buddy! This happened years ago in my past life as a graphic designer. But I still think about it to this day. I was 22 and fresh out of college with my graphic design degree. My first gig was at an advertising company. We mainly did those really horrible print car ads that you got in your mailbox and immediately threw in the trash. You know the ones: only one font and it’s huge and screaming at you. Every inch of space has a picture of car, cramming 50 cars into a 7x5 inch area. You know… trash! Fresh out of school, I foolishly made suggestions on how to make actual ads and not hot garbage. But it was made clear to me very quickly and very aggressively that they wanted trash. So I compiled. Now, we had one client who was THE client. He brought in the most money and bought the most trash ads from us. And he also was very specific on just how bad his ads should look. Font was Impact on all ads and it filled every corner of the paper. On one ad I remember him demanding I squeeze over 100 cars into a single space. It legit looked like a magic eye poster by the time it went to print. I dealt with that guy and his unreasonable requests for over a year. Well the guy amazingly got worse. Started telling me which colors I could or couldn’t use. And one by one, the colors dropped out. And eventually I had enough. After he said I could no longer use orange I said “just to confirm, you do not like and do not want me to use red, orange, yellow, green, purple, pink, brown, white, or black?” He confirmed. I said okay. The only color left was blue. So I spent hours taking all the cars, all the fonts, all the text and all design elements and making them all the same exact blue. No shading. No highlights. Just a flat blue. The end result was one giant flat blue square. Like someone took a paint roller over it. Now I could have made a blue square in two seconds. But I spent hours using all the elements he told me to use to cover my ass. Because when we sent that blue square to proof, the client of course blew up. Called me screaming. I replied calmly that he told me the only color I could use was blue. I used all the pictures and elements he asked for and did exactly what he wanted and made them blue. Our calls were recorded so I didn’t get in any trouble with my boss. And I got to waste several more hours remaking the same ad but with the original car pictures and elements. It was a really fun day.

Changing the definition of overtime? Great! The company I used to work for changed their definition of overtime to be "Any hours worked over 40 per week" to avoid paying overtime to people who stayed later on any given day, and tried to encourage them to take that time in lieu. I.e. if you worked 10 hours on Monday, you were encouraged to work 6 hours on Tuesday, instead of claiming 2 hours of overtime pay. (Here overtime pays at 1.5x your normal hourly rate, even if you're salaried). When they changed these rules they forgot about my team. 99% of the company worked regular 9-5 monday-friday shifts but my team worked a 24/7 rotating shift. Just by the nature of working shifts like that sometimes you end up working up to 55 hours in a single calender week by doing normal 8 hour shifts with no overtime. This was fine because it meant the next week you worked 25 hours or so. It always averaged out to be 80 hours a fortnight. But by the wording of this new rule (which was written into our contracts by the union so they couldn't go back on it), we were suddenly entitled to loads of overtime. It added up to about $6000 per year in extra pay from doing the exact same hours as before.

Coldplay hasn't released a new song in years. Then they make two new singles in one night!

Florida HOA nightmare. oh certified mail for all communication? you got it Posting this now because i no longer live in the house or neighborhood, but at the time i lived in a "lovely" cookie cutter neighborhood with an HOA. this was one of those neighborhoods where they finished like a 100 homes in the span of a few weeks and it was common to see 8 or 10 moving trucks on any given weekend. the neighborhood when from ghost town to filled in literally a month. In Florida, most HOAs are required to use certified mail when notifying home owners of violations. My HOA took this a step further that all notifications to the board would be through certified mail; received a violation? response in certified mail. requesting a hearing? certified mail. want the bylaws? certified mail. now this last one might strike you as odd, because how would you know to request the bylaws by certified mail, if you didn't have the bylaws already you might ask. let's put a pin in that one for now because upon moving in they were kind enough to provide the CC&Rs outlining what we could and could not do, but not the bylaws that told us how to handle violations and complaints. so i move in and everything is great...at first. that is until about the third month when there's a big packet taped to my door: a notice of intent to lien. the packet explains that i was delinquent on a number of violations, many of them repetitive. on the list are things like: -not keeping the garbage cans out of sight (we kept them on the side of the house like most neighbors) - standing water in between the sides of the homes (grading issue i was fighting with the developer over) - parking one of the vehicles in the driveway but over the sidewalk line - bushes not trimmed appropriately - unapproved modifications to the doorway (installing a Ring Doorbell camera) the list went on, but totaled $4,032.12 for violations, late fees, and legal fees. i immediately email requesting more information, and don't get a response. i do this for a few days before threatening legal action in a admittedly hostile emails; to which i finally get a response indicating that "all communications regarding violations will only be addressed via communication methods approved in the bylaws." i request a copy of the bylaws. "all requests for the bylaws must be submitted via approved communications methods, as per the bylaws." at this point im about to go postal, but if Edmond Dantes could wait 14 years for revenge, i could take a breath and figure this out. the notice gave me 45 days and it had only been a couple days - i had time to figure this out. little known fact about developers and HOAs in Florida: the developer is the one that drafts the initial CC&R, bylaws, and legal documents then hands it off to the board. my developer, who's name starts with "D" and ends with a word that sounds like shmorton was already on my shit list for a number of issues, including the improper grading. when i emailed my contacts requesting a copy of the bylaws, i don't think they wanted to add to the growing list of shit i was vehemently emailing them about already and i had a copy within minutes. that's when i found the certified mail language. now the wheels were turning, because it stated ALL communication was to be by certified mail. each violation was to be filed separately, and delivered by certified mail, each notice of failure to cure and the late fee...certified mail. EVERYTHING. i had 8 unique violations, plus repeat violations over a period of 9 weeks. at a minimum, i should have received like 22 notices via certified mail...at around $7 a pop. cue malicious compliance. my revenge...i mean malicious compliance was two pronged. my morality has developed to a fashion that if you want to wrongfully take from me, i am willing to spend just as much as you want, to fight you. they wanted $4k from me...i was willing to spend a good amount of that just to fuck with them. i took off two days from work and prepared a little game of FAFO. so step 1 was to draft a single page, no personal details, but explaining my situation and warning any neighbors going through something similar what the bylaws indicated and that all homeowners should immediately request a copy of the bylaws via certified mail. i provided the board address, the language to include (which stipulated that the response from the board, even if it was a copy of the bylaws) was to be by certified mail. meaning a printed copy of the bylaws, which was 29 pages. i also encouraged anyone fighting infractions or having received a notice of intent to lien what to do. i printed about 150 copies because that's how many houses were in the neighborhood. roped in a few close neighbors and we stuck a notice on about every door. step 2 was to fight each violation...individually. i drafted a template language indicating that i was refuting each violation. some more boiler plate language on why is was refuting it, and the coup

Creepy dean asks creepy request, IT complies. Around 2000, 2001, in Argentina, I did a network admin course. The guy that taught the course was also an admin in an university (let's call him ITProf) and he told us this story. The department of the university ITProf worked for dealt mostly with Philosophy and Philosophy-related careers. and it was around 95% female students, mostly high school graduates but also a lot of people that, once retired, started the career as a hobby (in Argentina, university can be free of charge). In Argentina, IDs are numbered and sequential. So, for instance, if an ID starts with 28 million, you can estimate what year that person was born in. There's only one caveat: foreign-born people that have gained citizenship get a number that starts with something like 80 million... The dean (let's call him CreepyDean) at that department was a 50-55 something old dude with, you guessed it, a pretty creepy behaviour. ITProf could access browsing history of every single person in the department and, let's just say, his wasn't pretty nor university related. CreepyDean taught a couple of mid-career courses, he was one of several professors that taught this courses. Every year, each university assigns the students to the courses they ask for and divides them between all available professors. Sometimes this is done by hand, sometimes it's randomized somehow, this is handled by each department. In this case, it was done by a computer program that randomized everything so each course had a wide array of different students. This program was something that ITProf created, because, prior to that, this was done manually. One day, CreepyDean calls ITProf and tells him "I want, in my courses, just female students, with IDs starting at 35 million or more, get it done" and remarked to ITProf that his job was on the line if he didn't comply. Since 95% of the faculty was female, this is a creepy request but CreepyDean knew that it wouldn't be as notorious (he could always blame it on chance) and, at that time, this behaviour was not something that could have gotten CreepyDean fired, but the university board members wouldn't be too happy about this behaviour either. ITProf understood that 35 million or more on the ID was for people that were roughly 21-22 years old or younger, CreepyDean wanted some eye candy and who knows what else... But CreepyDean just said "female, 35 million or more...". So ITProf complied. He assigned all foreign female students, with IDs starting 80 million, and all older than 65 to CreepyDean courses. CreepyDean was furious the first day of classes. He wanted ITProf fired. ITProf told him "I've complied with your request even though it was weird and something that I'm sure the board members wouldn't be to happy to find out about". ITProf told us CreepyDean got "dishonorably" discharged as dean a couple months after this story, there were some speculations but he never found out exactly why. **TLDR: Dean wants an entire class of young female students, IT manages to give him the exact opposite.**

No phones during work? Sure, try to find me then This happened some months ago, and i remebered it while reading some ot the posts here. So, i'm a forklift driver in a factory that produces chemical products for building and construction, adhesives, sealants, cement, etc... my job basically consist in providing the workers with everything they need to continue production. my department produces adhesives and my shift has circa 20 people, so i'm constantly moving back and forth between the warehouse, the department and everywhere else we stock the materials. In the time this happened, our managers started to pressure us on the use of phones, which many people did use a lot, and some were really exxagerating with it. i used it in the slow moments, or while i was waiting for something, obviously not while driving, and i had to keep it near me because the bosses needed to reach for me while i was away from the department for various tasks. They really became very strict on the use of phones, and a guy got even a formal complaint for it (3 compaints in a single year gets you fired). Malicious compliance: i simply shut off the phone at the start of the shift and only turned it on while on break. Now, i didn't specify how BIG my workplace is, it's 1,4million square feet, and sometime it took me even 10 minutes to go where i needed to go and come back and i received like 30 calls a day that were simply left unanswered. my managers were going mad but they couldn't do shit because they imposed the rule. EDIT since i saw them mentioned. They provided us with walkie-takies, but the obviously needed to be charged, and since we are working on 3 rotating shifts, they were never fully charged and died after an hour.

Scheduled breaks must be taken on schedule My work has very little interaction with others for the most part. Basically you come in, do your work, and go home except for a meeting or two during the day. Pretty straight forward. New manager comes in and wants everyone's schedule so she can keep track of the comings and goings. 'Your breaks and lunch need to be scheduled the same every single day and taken on time' according to her memo. My morning break is at the end of the team's 15 minute huddle. A few days later the huddle is running long so I got up and left the room after 15 minutes. She must have thought I was using the restroom but I was sitting in the break room which she noticed when she walked through at the end of the huddle. Every single time the huddle ran long I'd leave after 15 minutes. She finally asked about it and I replied that my break was scheduled and needed to be taken on time. She said that means within reason and not to walk out of meetings. I asked if she was going to amend her memo. She didn't amend her memo, I didn't change my routine. This continued like a pissing contest for the 6 months she ran the department until she transferred. Next manager turned huddles into team meeting bullet points for the day and we all went back to normal.

My friend once told me he's so single he has to go to a KFC whenever he wants to feel some breasts. I thought he was really witty and good with puns untill he got arrested.

If you’re going to watch TV, you have to include your little sister. When I was around 10, my parents had a rule. If the TV is on, your little sister has to be allowed to watch too if she wants. I usually wanted to watch cartoons, and she always wanted those annoying sing along shows. Arguments every day. One Saturday morning, I turned on the TV, plopped her down in front of it and immediately put on a wildlife documentary about ants. I sat there with the remote in hand, patiently explaining every single scene to her like it was the most exciting thing in the world. She lasted about 6 minutes before running off. My dad poked his head in, saw her already running off to play and asked why the TV was still on. I told him shee didn’t want to stay. I don't know if my parents knew what happened but for some reasons, my parents quietly dropped the “you must include her” rule for the rest of that summer. Cartoons were mine again.

You want a list of every item I do every day? Okay. I have a manger who is… well, I won’t say what I want to call him. He’s a thumbs down kind of guy. He is especially a thumbs down kind of guy towards women who work for him. We’re talking a gross nail beds, pink eye carrying, hit with a hammer and swollen with infection sort of thumb facing down kind of guy. Here I am, one of the maybe 5 women in the department of 40-50 people. Mind you, I have a supervisor I directly report to. The supervisor is always confused when our manager gets on to me about something and is just as surprised as I am. He is never approached first. He encourages me and tells me to keep my chin up. The micromanaging has reached the stage of my manager wanting to receive a list of every single thing I do during the day. My malicious compliance seems insignificant but oh boy does it make me feel better. 1. I slightly change the subject of every single daily email so they don’t group together in his inbox. When he wants to micromanage, he’ll have to dig. 2. I bloat the hell out of those emails with useless info. Things like “I asked someone a question” or “reviewed internal policy on xyz to ensure correctness” with next line as “I did xyz in compliance with the policy” 3. I have the line items very vague. Instead of “I closed the task of this ticket number with issue xyz by doing xyz” I’ll put things like “closed <ticket number>” Ever since I started this, he hasn’t been replying to them as much. I had no idea this would work as well as it does. I’m a very detailed person and it’s going against the core of my being of sending such a terrible deliverable but damn does it make me smile. Yes, I’m job hunting. Yes, it will be devastating for him to lose me doing the tasks alone that most businesses have an entire team on. Yes, am I excited to to send an email that only says “two week notice” then take PTO I have for those two weeks. Edit: I forgot one. I schedule it to send after I know he leaves the office. Edit edit: working on a bulleted list of all the amazing tips to make it even better you all keep giving. This is fantastic. I’ll have it here so we can all have a united accomplishment in malicious compliance. Edit edit edit: 29 items on today’s so far. 6 hours left in the work day.

HR training leads to me getting paid extra. Another post reminded me of this story, and I thought I'd share. I work for a major grocery chain. For the most part they're locked in on following labor laws properly, but every once in a while they don't know what they're talking about. Before this job, I had been GM of a high volume brewpub and before that I was GM of a 14 screen cinema, so I also know labor laws pretty well, as both my previous jobs were drowning in employee relations. A while back we had a mandatory training for leadership about proper call-out procedures for our teams. In the training our regional HR asked all the department managers, "What do you do if they text you?" I said, "Ignore the text." HR said, "no, you need to tell them to call out on our call-out line. Let them know they need to leave their name, employee ID, and their shift." I said, "do I have to?" HR: "Yes" Me: "okay, but would you email us this information after the class?" They did. About three months later I had a new employee somehow get my phone number (which bothered me, but that's another story) and text me that they couldn't make it in the next day. I text back. "Call the call-out line. Leave your name, employee ID, and shift." The next day when I was at work I put in a timekeeper request for an hour of labor. This also happened on a Wednesday in a week where Wednesday was my only day off. Where I live, if you work even a single minute off the clock, the company is obligated to pay you for that hour. In addition, because I was scheduled 6 days already, that counted as another day of work. So my entire Sunday shift was time and a half as it was seven days in a row during the full Mon-Sun work week. About a week later I was called into HR to discuss what they claimed was me abusing the system and they wanted to write me up for it because that one text message resulted in $200 of extra money on my paycheck ($40/hr wage, so 8 hours at time and a half is $160 plus the $40 on Wednesday.) I let them know they were the ones who told me to work on my time off and that of they wanted to punish me for it they could see me in court and they'd pay a hell of a lot more. I then reminded them of the email they sent telling us in detail what we were to do if an employee texted us to call out. I told them that I value my work life balance, and even a minute of work is still work, and I expect to be paid for each moment of work i do. They said, "okay, I'll have to call the director of HR and discuss this. But we will get back to you." They never got back to me. But my paycheck was straight for the period and a week later they sent out a followup email telling leadership to let their teams know they weren't to text the managers off the clock, and that if an issue arise they could call the store and the store could decide if it was important enough to contact us on our days off. My time is my time, and I'm getting paid for it. Thankfully, for them at least, they never tried to retaliate over it. Sad for me as I wasn't bluffing when I said I'm not afraid to talk to a lawyer... would've been a good payout.

My girlfriend hasn’t made a single joke in the 10 years we’ve been together. We are in a very serious relationship.

A father asks his son what he wants for his 15th birthday His son says, “Dad, I have everything I could ever want. But there is one thing that would make me the happiest person alive.” The dad, wanting to make his son happy, asks his son what that is. His son replies, “I want a single ping pong ball.” Confused, his dad agrees, and on his fifteenth birthday, the son opens his present to find a single pig pong ball inside. “Dad! Thank you so much! I am the happiest kid on this planet!” The next day, the father goes into his son’s room but doesn’t find the ping pong ball anywhere. Next year rolls around, and the father asks his son what he wants for his birthday, probably a car, or a new video game. His son says, “Dad, I have everything I could ever want. But there is one thing that would make me the happiest person alive.” The father, only wanting to please his son, asks what that one thing is. His son says to him, “I want a ten pack of ping pong balls.” The father was a little weirded out, but he did as his son wished, and on his sixteenth birthday, the son opened his present to find a pack of ping pong balls. “Dad thank you so much! I love them!” The next day, he goes up to his son’s room, and doesn’t find one ping pong ball anywhere. Twelve months pass, and it’s time for the son to turn seventeen. The father, ready for whatever outrageous gift his son might want, asks him what he would like for his birthday. His son says, “Dad, I have everything I could ever want. But there is one thing that would make me the happiest person alive.” The dad, thinking he’s about to spend a shitload of money on a new car, asks his son what that thing is. “I want a jug of ping pong balls.” The dad, who was just taken aback by the whole situation, bought his son a jug of ping pong balls to open on his seventeenth birthday. “Oh my god! Dad thank you so much!” On the next day, the dad goes into his son’s room, but doesn’t find a single ping pong ball anywhere. Four seasons pass, and his son is becoming an adult. The father, who is about to send his only son to college, prepares himself for the amount of money he is about to spend on his favorite kid to send him to his alma mater, and asks him what he wants for his birthday. His son says, “Dad, I have everything I could ever want. But there is one thing that would make me the happiest person alive.” The father asks him what that one thing just might be. “Well dad, I want a warehouse full of ping pong balls.” The dad is like, holy shit? “What is up with my son and his ping pong balls?” But he does as his son wishes, and the next day, he drives his son to the an old abandoned warehouse. They open the door, and ping pong balls just roll out. Everywhere. “Dad. Thank you so much. I love you!” Around 24 hours later, the dad drives down to the warehouse, opens the door, but there’s not a single ping pong ball inside. 8,772 hours later, the son is turning nineteen. But a few days before his birthday, he is in an awful wreck. He’s hospitalized. Hooked up to thirty different machines. The father is devastated. He goes into his son’s hospital room, and asks him what he wants for his birthday. “Son, I’m going to make this your best birthday yet. I will buy you anything. Anything you want.” His son says, “Dad, I have everything I could ever want. But there is one thing that would make me the happiest person alive.” The dad, who is already up to protocol, is like, “alright. How many ping pong balls do you want this time?” “I want a boatload. As many as you can buy.” The father, just trying to make his son’s days in the hospital enjoyable, buys a boatload of ping pong balls. He buys out every warehouse of ping pong balls. Uses his life savings to buy every single ping pong ball in America. He walks into his son’s hospital room to tell him the news. “Dad I can’t believe you bought me all of these ping pong balls. How can I ever repay you?” The dad, who wants to know what the fuck is up with his son and these ping pong balls, asks, “well there is one way son.” “What is it Dad?” “What do you do with all of these fucking ping pong balls?” The son was happy to tell his dad what he did with the ping pong balls. “Well dad,” he started, but never finished. The son died. Edit: thank you for the upvotes and the gold. I am very humbled by you guys and the attention this has received. You guys are truly the best.

A lone Mongol warrior shouts to Chinese army "Send your men! I'm alone!"... A lone Mongol warrior stands on top of a mountain and shouts down to the Chinese army below: “Send your men! I’m alone!” The Chinese general sends 1,000 soldiers up the mountain. There’s the sound of swords clashing, men screaming… then silence. No one returns. The Mongol appears again and yells: “Send more! I’m still alone!” Another 1,000 soldiers go up. More chaos, more noise… then silence again. The Mongol shouts a third time: “Come on! I’m still alone!” This time, furious, the general sends 2,000 of his best men. The mountain erupts in the sounds of a huge battle. Finally, it goes quiet. A single wounded Chinese soldier crawls back down and whispers: “He lied… there were TWO of them.”

My manager told me to write shorter reports. So I did. For context: I work in logistics coordination. Every week I submit a report summarizing what happened with our shipments, delays, carrier issues, that kind of thing. My reports were usually around a page, maybe a page and a half. Detailed, clear, everything you needed to know. Three weeks into my new job my manager pulled me aside and said, and I quote: "your reports are good but they're too long, cut out the fluff, nobody has time to read all that." Okay. Fine. No fluff. The next week I submitted this: "Week 34: All shipments delivered. Two delays resolved. One carrier changed. No outstanding issues." That's it. That was the report. Every single thing in it was accurate. Nothing was missing in terms of facts. Were there nuances? Sure. Did the delayed shipment involve a fairly heated call with a vendor that probably needed documenting? Technically yes. But he said no fluff, and vendor drama felt like fluff to me. He responded within four minutes asking me to "elaborate a little." So I added the word "successfully" before "resolved." "Week 34: All shipments delivered. Two delays successfully resolved. One carrier changed. No outstanding issues." He came to my desk. In person. To discuss the report. We talked for twenty minutes. I took notes. The notes were longer than any report I had ever written. I now submit the same one-page reports as before. He hasn't mentioned the length since. I elaborated on nothing else and he did not ask me to.

I used to work at the zoo, and one time, a gorilla died of old age Problem was, it was the only gorilla in the zoo because it wasn’t very profitable. The gorilla was by far the most popular attraction, and they couldn’t afford to go a single day without it. So the zoo owner came up to me and said, "For an extra $100 a day, do you want to put on this gorilla costume until we can afford a new one?" Of course, I said yes. Pretty quickly, I became the biggest hit at the zoo. Everyone wanted to see the human-like gorilla. About a month later, the craze started to die down, but they kept pressuring me to get people’s attention again. So, in a desperate attempt, I climbed over to where the lions were and started hanging off the net. Suddenly, this massive crowd gathered, and everyone looked terrified. I could feel my grip slipping — I couldn't hold on any longer. I started screaming, "Help! Help!" — and then I fell. The lion rushed toward me, and just as I thought it was over, he leaned in and whispered, "Shut the fuck up before we all get fired."

A blind man walks into a bar and says to the bartender “Give me a shot of your finest 30 year old single malt !” The bartender says, “You know, that will cost you 100 bucks – it’s pretty expensive”. The blind man says “Not a problem, I have the money and I know what I like !”. So the bartender, knowing the man is unable to see what he’s pouring, serves him his cheapest single malt – a Glen Garioch 5 year old. The blind man takes a sip, makes a face and spits it out, exclaiming “That’s 5 year old whisky ! I said a 30 year old single malt !” The bartender apologizes and pours the man a shot of 12 year old Macallan. The blind man takes a sip of that, and spits it out again, and says “That’s 12 year old whisky ! I said 30 year old !” The bartender, still wanting to maximize his profit, pours another shot, this time a 21 year old Glenlivit, and sets it in front of the blind man. Again, the man takes a sip, spits it out, and says “That’s 21 year old whisky ! Give me what I ordered, or I am out of here !” At this point, the bartender has resigned himself to the fact that the man won’t accept anything less than the real thing, and pours him his best 30 year old Balvenie. The blind man takes a sip, and sighs “Now THAT’s 30 year old whisky !” An old drunk down at the end of the bar who has been watching this whole exchange, walks over to the blind man, sets a glass down in front of him, and says. “Excuse me sir, I’d like you to try this.” The blind man says “Happy to!” and takes a sip. Immediately, the blind man spits it out and shouts “My god man, that tastes like PISS !” The old drunk replies “It is – tell me how old I am”

You wanna throw a fit over the property line? No problem! So I bought a house in 2018. I had to in a hurry so I could get my mother in my old home before her chemo got intense. My family had outgrown the one we were in, and we found one that needed some work but had 5.25 acres and a chicken coop. Neighbor (Dan) obsessively manicures his property and it is much nicer as a result, but the price and features worked for us on our side. We fix up and paint the chicken coop, only interrupted once by Dan asking us to tear it down or move it. Surely the coop was well on our side of the property line, I thought. I politely declined and described how the only thing I'd be doing is building an enclosed run toward my house to protect the birds from predators after fixing some things inside the house that have been neglected. The previous owner was a serious alcoholic and there's a lot of work to do. Dan walks away angry but defeated. A couple of years pass and the run is built exactly as described and our informal survey shows the property line about 20ft back, and I build gardens roughly the same distance from the property line. Dan has a survey done that suspiciously puts the back corner of the coop and about 1/3 of the run over the property line, but we agreed that it could stay so long as I don't encroach any further and I eventually move it which WAS my actual plan. He said to take all the time I need, declining my offers to buy the dirt or trade easements and reimburse him for the cost of the survey. Another year goes by and Dan has changed his tune. He interrupts a target practice session with my two foster kids to demand that I demolish the coop and run soon, to which I said "I suppose I could push that project up to next fall (2024)". He isn't happy but seems pacified. I wasn't thrilled either but I'm a reasonable guy and would prefer to have a good relationship with a neighbor I don't like much. Enter May 2024, six months before I agreed to do anything, and this guy shows up in my back yard wanting to talk about the god damned coop again. "You know, Dan. You said I could have all the time I needed and then demanded I tear it down, going back on your..." Cue the most childish temper tantrum I think I've ever seen. He was literally stomping on the ground with elbows out, screaming about suing me and how he'll own my whole house by the time he's done with me. Malicious compliance: fuck you, Dan. I decided the best place for that coop is exactly where it is. It's been there about 20 years and adverse possession only requires 10. I can take that 12sqft of dirt from you and you'll even have to pay my legal fees. Only the run needs to move since it's only been there 5 years. That's exactly what I did. The new run connects to the gardens and the roof funnels the roosters' crows right to his house. Setback requirements say structures must be 5' from property lines. The back corner of the run is now exactly 5'2" away from the supposed property line and he gets to hear and smell my chickens every single time he's outside. He will not have peace until he dies or moves. I am well within my rights and while I do struggle with medical and PTSD issues from my service, I learned very well from the Navy how to be *technically* correct in a way that works only for me.

Sure thing boss every single log will be on your desk in physical form I work for a medium sized engineering firm and my manager is one of those old school guys who thinks that if something is on a screen it basically doesnt exist. He has this massive distrust of our digital tracking systems and cloud logs even though we use them for literally everything from Revit file syncing to server up-time monitoring. Last week we had a minor sync error that caused some work to be lost and he absolutely lost it during the morning meeting. He shouted that he was tired of "invisible data" and decreed that from now on every single automated system log and error report had to be printed out and placed on his desk every morning for his "personal manual review". The IT lead tried to explain that the server generates thousands of lines of code every hour but the manager just waved him off and said he wanted to see the paper trail because paper doesnt lie. I saw the look on the IT guys face and I knew exactly what was coming. Since I am the one who handles the BIM coordination and the project logs I decided to follow his order to the absolute letter. I went into the settings for our automated reporting tools and changed the output destination from the internal dashboard to the heavy duty plotter and the industrial laser printer in the main hall. I also disabled the filters that usually strip out the "heartbeat" pings which are basically just the server saying it is still alive every thirty seconds. I showed up an hour early on Tuesday to collect the harvest. It was beautiful. The laser printer had run through three entire reams of paper and the plotter had spat out about twenty feet of continuous logs because I formatted them to print in a single long strip for easier reading. I stacked it all up in a massive teetering pile that was about two feet high and walked it into his office. I had to move his coffee mug and his family photo just to make room for the Tuesday morning report. He looked at the pile and then back at me and I just smiled and told him that these were the raw logs he requested for the last twenty-four hours and that I would have the next batch ready by 9 AM tomorrow. He spent the entire day in his office and I could hear the ruffling of paper through the thin walls. Around 3 PM he came out looking like he had aged five years and asked if there was a way to just get a summary. I told him that per his specific instructions from the meeting we were no longer using summaries because they count as "invisible data" and we had to maintain the full paper trail for accountability. He didnt say anything and just went back inside. By Thursday morning the pile on his desk was so big he actually had to work from the small round table in the corner of his office because his main desk was completely consumed by logs. Friday morning he sent out an email officially reinstating the digital dashboard and told us to "use our best judgment" on what needs to be printed. I still have a few rolls of plotter paper ready just in case he changes his mind again.

Don't clock out on breaks? Why yes I will gladly comply! My former small company was bought by a much bigger one. When this happened our time management system changed to a new one. Nothing extraordinary here. The new system however had a major flaw: it substracted half an hour of mandatory break every day from your hours but you could not manually clock out for longer breaks or the system would break. I however was taking longer breaks on some days. This was common before and I (and my colleagues) had the approval of my supervisor for it. So with the new system I could not clock out for my breaks properly - it had to be manually adjusted each day. I talked to my supervisor about it, he told me to go to HR and let them sort the system out. I went to HR, explained that I had approval to take longer breaks and asked how to use the system correctly. I got this exact reply in writing: "don't clock out on your breaks, the system works automatic" It was clear from the phone call earlier that what they wanted to say was: don't take breaks longer than 30 minutes. But that was not what was written. I answered and thanked them for the clarification. Cue malicious compliance: I did exactly as I was told: I took long breaks every single day but the system only ever counted them as 30 minutes. On some days I took like 2 or more hours of break, went into the city from the office to get some ice cream or do some shopping and did never use more than 30 minutes of time for it. My "overtime" hours were going so high that I was ordered to take multiple days a month off to compensate... This went on for about 2 and a half years until we were sold again and the new system sadly did not have the same flaw...

Want pictures of all the transactions and deposits, you got it! Once upon a time, I worked for a boss who would try to passively micro manage my work. For context, I was the manager of multiple locations and I would handle everything that is related to the store i.e the cash, vendor invoices, profits and everything in between. When I first took up this position, they expected me to learn everything on my own, no proper training, no one to reach out to if I was stuck at something. However, gradually, I picked it all up and mastered every single entry and transaction. When this manager started seeing my progress, he started asking me all the unnecessary "why's" and "How come this and how come that?". Then he started questioning my accounting and said "From this point on, I want pictures of all the transactions that you handle" say no more..... For the next few months, I would bombard his phone with every little transaction detail and tag him in everything that I was doing. If something's not taken care of and the upper management questions me, I'd simply say "I asked my boss but he never responded". Eventually, this boss called me one day and asked me to stop sending him pictures because his phone is now lagging due to low storage and that he has to spend a lot of time deleting those thousands of pictures. I know this is not even close to some of the posts here but malicious is malicious I guess. Thank you for reading 😊

You Want Me to Log Every Minute? Sure Thing, Boss! A few years back, I worked as a junior analyst at a mid-sized consulting firm. Our team was known for delivering quality work, often going above and beyond to meet tight deadlines. We had a flexible work culture, and as long as the work got done, no one micromanaged our hours. Enter our new manager, Karen (not her real name, but fitting). Karen came from a corporate background and was obsessed with metrics and control. She introduced a new policy: every team member had to log their work in 15-minute increments using a new time-tracking software. She claimed it was to "optimize productivity," but it felt more like surveillance. We tried to express our concerns, highlighting that the nature of our work didn't always fit neatly into 15-minute blocks. Sometimes, we had brainstorming sessions, quick client calls, or impromptu team huddles. But Karen was adamant: "If it's not logged, it didn't happen." Fine. I decided to comply—maliciously. I began logging every single activity: 9:00 AM – 9:15 AM: Booting up computer and reviewing emails. 9:15 AM – 9:30 AM: Responding to emails. 9:30 AM – 9:45 AM: Coffee break. 9:45 AM – 10:00 AM: Team stand-up meeting. 10:00 AM – 10:15 AM: Bathroom break. 10:15 AM – 10:30 AM: Reading industry articles for professional development. And so on. I included everything: waiting for files to download, software updates, even the time spent logging time. I wasn't the only one. The entire team followed suit. Within a week, Karen was inundated with detailed logs that painted a picture of a team bogged down by administrative tasks. Our actual productivity took a hit because we were so focused on tracking every minute. After two weeks, Karen called a team meeting. She looked exhausted. "Okay, maybe we went a bit overboard with the time tracking," she admitted. "Let's simplify the process." Victory. We returned to our previous system, focusing on deliverables rather than micromanaging time. Productivity soared, and Karen learned that trust and flexibility often yield better results than rigid control.

The whale jizz on my doorstep 5 years ago on this very night, I found a jar of whale jizz on my doorstep. It was beaten and injured, it needed my help. I nursed it back to health and raised it like my own son. Today it finally graduated from university and I was just so proud. It looked at me and said "Thank you, for everything." I looked back at it with a single tear rolling down my cheek "You're whale cum"

No stickers on equipment? Bet. I'll try to keep it short and sweet. No promises. Obligatory long time lurker, first time poster. At my current job (warehouse, no public interaction) we all have pallet jacks. Not personal ones, but each of us has "our own" pallet jack that we use on a day to day basis. For over a year and a half, "my" pallet jack has had a sticker with my nickname on it. Between my 3 other coworkers and myself we have an understanding and everyone uses the one that's "theirs". That being said, this has never been a problem and neither has the sticker on my pallet jack...... Until we hired a maintenance guy. We'll call him Dickhead or Richard P. Head Richard P. Head decided that stickers on pallet jacks or any of the heavy equipment (those had decepticon/autobot emblems that a previous employee put on) were tacky and unprofessional. Richard P. Head then started to remove the stickers on the equipment any chance he got. One day I came in and the sticker with my nickname was ripped off my pallet jack. Ok, np. Just put another one on. Richard P. Head ripped that one off too one day when I was away from my area. Same deal, new sticker. A few days after my supervisor calls me into the office and goes off on me about how maintenance has complete discretion over the equipment and how it looks and that if Richard P. Head takes off a sticker, it needed to stay off. As a consequence for putting another sticker on the jack, I needed to remove it and any other stickers on there. You got it boss. So I removed them. Every. Single. One. Warning labels? Gone. Weight limits? Gone. Brand name? Gone. Then I convinced my co-workers to do the same. "Boss said no stickers on the equipment anymore." My boss hasn't spoken to me in a week and I can live with that. Lol. Edit to comply with rule #8 as pointed out by another Redditor

A small geographical difference An elderly man walks in to the famous restaurant Lucas Carton in Paris with his girlfriend. He orders a bottle of Rothschild Mouton 1928. The waiter returns with a full bottle of wine and fill up a small amount in a glass for tasting. The man barely smells the wine before putting the glass down and stating: "This is not a 1928 Mouton!" Soon, almost 20 people are standing around the table. This includes the chef and the restaurants owner. Every single one is trying to convince the old man that it is, in fact, a 1928 Mouton. The waiter then asks: "How can you be so sure this *isn't* a 1928 Mouton?" The elderly man then states: "My name is Phillip de Rothschild, and I produce this wine!" The waiter then admits that the wine actually is a Clerc Milon 1928. "I could not bear the thought of us parting with the last bottle of Mouton 1928. You know, Clerc Milon is produced in the exact same village, with the exact same grapes, the same type of baskets and aged in the exact same barrels. The wines are *exactly* the same, the only difference is that the vineyards are on the other side of the village." Rotschild turns to the waiter and says: "When you get home tonight, ask your wife to undress, and put one finger in each hole. Pull them out, and smell them. You'll then understand the importance of a small geographical difference."

Micromanagement isn’t cheap I'm an IT consultant. Customers pay my employer for me (or my colleagues) to work on their IT systems. It’s not cheap (around 1500 per day), but we're good at what we do. We bill by the "day" which should *technically* be an 8 hour shift dedicated to a single customer, though in reality things are kinda fluid.. I might need to e-mail or have a quick meeting with another customer during the day and make the time up elsewhere etc. All my customers understand this, and they trust me to get their work done/ not rip them off. In 8 years, I’ve never had a complaint. I was midway through an 18-month project with a long-term client. We billed them 2 days a week, which pretty much lined up with the work I was doing for them. The project was progressing nicely and everyone was happy. Then they hired a new project manager. From the get go he was a nightmare and clearly wanted to throw his "authority" around/ show off for his new bosses. He wanted to micromanage all my work.. putting in twice-daily meetings, constant emails, the works. After a couple of weeks, he decided they weren’t getting their money’s worth and demanded a detailed breakdown of exactly how my time was being used. Fine by me. I started tracking every single minute: * Meetings he scheduled * Emails he sent * Time spent responding * Time spent logging all of this The bill nearly doubled. His director (who I had a good relationship with) called me directly to ask why costs had suddenly spiked. I explained I was just following the new PM's request for detailed time tracking and regular "updates". About 30 minutes later, we got an email saying we could go back to the previous arrangement and that the new guy had been "reallocated to another project", a few weeks later I noticed his account had been disabled.

Did you hear about the limo driver who was in business for 25 years without a single customer? All that time and nothing to chauffeur it. I'm pretty sure this is the joke that will yield me my fortune.

When she pulled down her underwear to pee, she screamed Writhing and twisting in the liner she’d just put on was a single slender brown maggot.

Pedestrian! I (54F) went to visit my adult son (30M). We went out to dinner and I was driving, he was in the passenger seat. We had to go through downtown traffic and I asked him to help me watch out for pedestrians. I didn't specify pedestrians crossing the road. (Pedestrians have the right of way.) So true to his humor he notified me about every person walking. Every. Single. Person. Yelling (not too loud) Pedestrian! And pointing to each person walking on the sidewalk. OMG he has me in tears from laughing so hard. I made a monster and taught him a warped sense of humor. God I love my son! Even a month later when I went to visit him again he'd do the same thing. I think this will forever be a thing and I don't mind. Malicious compliance between us is just another way to mess with each other and it's hilarious. Idk what else to say except that I'm proud of him.

"There's nothing that says the marketing team doesn't work directly with clients." About 10 years ago I worked for a small web hosting company. Initially I was hired as entry level support, taking calls from customers that accidentally broke their websites or needed passwords reset. Then, I worked my way up to team lead where I was working with SSL certificates and cloud hosting accounts for high value customers. Finally, they moved me to the marketing team after they found out that I had an English writing degree. This was my first copywriting job, and a huge step in my career (as I am still a copywriter to this day). I remember being overjoyed when I accepted the position and thought "I'm never taking another angry phone call for the rest of my life." Cut to about a year later. I'm writing blogs, emails, video scripts, and most importantly, not taking phone calls. I'm at my desk in the marketing department, and in walks the team lead that took my position after I was promoted. We'll call her Ruth. Side note: I objected to Ruth being promoted into my old role because she's extraordinarily bullheaded and rude. She would repeatedly overstep her bounds as an entry level tech, telling other employees when they could and couldn't go to lunch and trying to manage the call queue when her only job was to take said calls. Ultimately my concerns went unheeded and she got the job. Ruth walks up to my desk and sets a bulleted list in front of me. It's a vague business strategy she's written up. Essentially, the cloud hosting division of the company is rapidly expanding, and the CSO tasked Ruth with figuring out how to field all of the additional high value customers. Ruth's solution? I resume some of my responsibilities as a tech team lead to take escalations from angry cloud customers. I said absolutely not. She completely ignored me and just kept going over her strategy. Like, literally I'm saying "No Ruth, I'm not doing this" and she's like "Uh huh, anyway as you can see here, when a tech needs to escalate a call it will come to you." I was fuming, but patiently explained that I was on the marketing team now, and my tech support days are over. She said "Well, I checked the Roles and Responsibilities section in the company handbook, and there's nothing that says the marketing team doesn't work directly with clients." She then gave me a shit-eating grin and says "We'll have to get a phone installed at your desk," and leaves. I was fucking livid. I'd be going from no phone calls to specifically only taking calls from the angriest customers we have. Then, as I was recounting this awful situation to one of the graphic designers, something dawned on me when I remembered what she said about the roles in the company handbook. As the only copywriter, I was the one in charge of managing and updating the handbook. The graphic designer saw this dawn of realization on my face and was like "Oh man, please do what I think you're gonna do." So I logged into Evernote (or whatever system we were using to manage and edit the handbook) and added a subsection to the marketing team's roles and responsibilities that specifically said we do not take phone calls, emails, or have any direct interactions with customers. This also safeguarded the graphic designers and videographers from any future bullshit from Ruth. I took the changes to the CSO who gave me a smirk and signed off on the edits. I then took the signed changes to Ruth and set them on her desk. "Yeah actually it DOES say in the company handbook that the marketing team can't take calls, as you can see here. I guess you'll have to figure something else out." She stared daggers at me but I just shrugged and left. That was the last of our interactions. She ended up poaching some top performers from the entry-level tech team to make a dedicated cloud team that never really functioned well, and she ultimately quit without a 2-week notice a few months later. So, I got some extra "I told you so" satisfaction about her not being qualified for the job as well. I still haven't taken a single customer phone call since I became a copywriter, and I intend to keep it that way.

If you don’t like the way I eat, I simply won’t My parents are very weird people. A lot of very small, random things set them off, and they will seethe about them for hours, call me names, threaten to take away things from me, threaten to kick me out, etc. They also don’t believe in most mental health issues/diagnoses. Either I get a therapist and magically get better or it’s a waste of money. Meds or anything else? Out of the question. One of their biggest pet peeves is how I eat. I call myself a “grazer” (ex I like to have small light meals throughout the day). Heavy meals, or meals rich in dairy, acidity, or fats make me feel very nauseous, as well as eating too fast. I’m also never really “hungry” or ravenous, sometimes I just feel a bit dizzy so I eat to feel better. This leads to me, when going out for dinner or taking portions of homemade meals, to either take home leftovers, or packing up my portions for the next day. I’d like to clear the air; I don’t waste my food. It always gets eaten, just on my terms and within a reasonable time of a day or so. My friends and relatives do not see an issue with this; my mother and step-father, my step-father especially, do. Two weeks ago, he screamed at me because I didn’t finish my food and took it home for next days lunch, which I did eat at work. He was raging about how it “wasn’t how you were supposed to eat food”, that even though I always ate my leftovers I was “wasting his money because the food wasn’t fresh when I ate it” and “he hates having to buy me food” and told me “stop asking for food when we go out, he won’t pay for it anymore”. He also called me several flavorful names, while my spineless mom just sat there. My poor baby brother found me that night and apologized on THEIR BEHALF, saying “he didn’t know why they’re like this, so rude to you”. Game on then. Since that night, whenever my family and I go out to eat, I don’t get a single thing. If i bring my wallet, I make it a point to order by myself and order a small meal. At home, I take very little portions. No more leftovers. At first my dad refused to say anything, but now him and my mom are both throwing around “anorexia” and “EDs”. I’m 5’4 130lbs with a BF% of 24%. Perfectly healthy, even by my primary doctors standards. They’re furious now, saying I’m making them look abusive when we go out and that I’m being “an immature B”. I just point out that I’m just doing what they asked; which usually gets them to leave it alone. I have my own car, and as I mentioned before, my own job that thankfully pays well. I am not starving by any means :), just making a point to take none of the food they offer now, outside or homemade.

'It's good US money......' Years ago, working your basic convience store gig. Guy comes in, wanders the stacks, and comes to me with about $7.50 worth of stuff, and hands me a $100 bill. 'Dude, please tell me you have something smaller. I just opened up about 45min ago. I don't think I can break that.' All true, I knew my till was on a razor's edge for this one. I see *that* look on his face, hear *that* tone, 'No, it's all I've got.' Those in customer service know that voice, that, 'I'm the customer, you're the peasant,' tone. Right, okay then. I knew the type, but I try begging off, giving him an out before I turn on my Gen X lack of fucks. Still polite & professional, 'Well, I can't make any promises, and I can't check while the sale is on the screen.' 'Well, you have to take it. It's good US money.' Ah. That isn't how this works. If I ain't got the cash, I have every right to refuse service. But hey, you set the rules, so, malicious compliance it is. I will make you regret this. Pop the drawer, and the gods smiled upon me. Three $20s, two $10s, and assorted $5 & $1 bills and coins later, he has his change. 'What's this?' 'Your change. I wasn't sure I could pull it off, but we got lucky. Enjoy your afternoon.' He's just standing there, unsure how to respond or act. 'Is everything okay? It's good US money.' All sweetness and charm. Never saw anyone go from one to completely impotent 100 so fast. He wanted to chew me out, or bitch to my boss, but knew I'd done nothing wrong. I gave him what he demanded- $90+ change from a $100 bill. What's he gonna howl about? 'Your clerk gave me exact change!' The boss, 'And you're angry, why?' I watched each and every thought run across his face, trying to make me look bad, and just couldn't. So he tust turned around and sulked away out the door. I've put in 40+yrs behind the counter, in four states & dozens of stores, and this is, by far, my single most favoritest customer exchange, ever..

The memo said we must give a printed receipt for EVERY library checkout, so I did, until we ran out of paper I work at a public library and most days are calm, even when it’s busy. Last month someone higher up sent out a shiny new "accountability" memo that said every single checkout must include a printed receipt, no exceptions, no asking the patron, no email option unless they request it after you print. The memo literally said it reduces disputes, and if a patron refuses the paper you still print it and discard it yourself for "audit consistency." We all kinda rolled our eyes, but i decided fine, i will follow it exactly because i am not getting blamed later. The next Saturday we had a line out the door, strollers, seniors, kids, everyone, and i printed a receipt for every checkout even when people said "no thanks." I didn’t speed print either, because the policy also said to highlight due dates and verbally confirm them, so i did that too, every time. One guy checked out 47 items for a book club donation sort, so i printed two full pages of receipt, highlighted, confirmed, stapled, and then put the duplicate copy in the "audit tray" like the instructions told us. Another patron asked why i was throwing paper straight into recycling and i just said "new rules, sorry," because i wasnt gonna editorialize. By noon we had burned through two rolls of thermal paper and the printer started doing that faint stripe thing, which means it’s about to jam and need a reboot. So i logged a supply request, and kept printing anyway, because the memo didnt say to pause for "common sense." The line got slower, people got cranky, and we ran out of paper completely, which meant we couldnt check anything out at all because the receipt screen blocks the checkout until it prints. The fallout was immediate: the childrens librarian had to cancel a storytime giveaway, the holds shelf was overflowing, and the director got a call from the city office because someone complained they drove 30 minutes and couldnt borrow books because "the printer was empty." Monday morning we got a follow up email that receipts are now optional again and "please be mindful of waste." I kept the original memo in my drawer, just in case they forget how we got here.

A man living in Soviet Union goes to a bar and asks for the price of a single beer. Bartender: "Well, the beer used to be 50 kopeks, but now everyone has to pay 50 kopeks extra for the party's economic plan, so now beer costs 1 ruble." The man gives one ruble to bartender and asks for one beer. The bartender returns the man 50 kopeks. The man with confused look on his face asks the bartender: "Isn't the beer now 1 ruble because of the extra 50 kopek charge that everyone has to pay for the party's economic plan?" Bartender: "Yes comrade, thats what i charged you for. Right now we don't have any beer".

Raise denied for not working overtime A couple years ago, I was working for a corporation as an analyst. Company culture was that working insane overtime was bragged about and praised - when in reality, these people are working overtime because they do so much meaningless work that could be automated in a dozen different ways. I’ve always been very flexible with my time, because my management has been flexible with me - if I needed to take a long lunch, leave early for an appointment, etc. And I’ve always been very forthcoming about this. However, if I don’t *have* to work late, I’m not… I finish all of my responsibilities during normal work hours and wrap things up neatly at the end of the day to have a smooth start the next day. I had been in this position for a little over a year and went into it knowing I was being severely underpaid, and I’m very confident in the output of my work - always got great marks on performance reviews and constant praise for what I was doing. So I felt deserving of a raise, and I requested it. (20% which is large, I understand, and I debated that for awhile because I knew I wouldn’t get the full amount. But this is how severely I was underpaid, and I knew 20% was the cap by our company’s policies.) I was immediately rejected any raise because I come into the office at 8 and leave right at 5 while everyone else works late and I never offer to help others out when they are overloaded (meaning they work late and I leave on time). The first part of this “feedback” actually came from someone else who worked on our floor, never worked with this guy in my life. My manager was all about perception > reality. Which I understand is general corporate culture, but that doesn’t mean it’s not bullsh*t. Ok. I can change that. Around 4:30 everyday, I would ping my manager asking if there was anything she needed help with to finish out the day. I documented all of this in a word doc. Day in and day out, there wasn’t a single thing she ever asked me to do in addition to the work I was already doing. I would test things out and stay until 5:15/5:30 some days to see who all is working late. Very seldomly was anyone ever in the office past 5:05. Eventually, my manager said I don’t need to be checking in with her at the end of everyday. I said ok no problem, but I just want you to know that you can always reach out if you need help with something, because I can’t be expected to know your workload if you don’t communicate. Our relationship stayed very strained after that. I was desperate to leave the company, especially once the raise was fully rejected after receiving above average performance review for being in the job for only a year. Finally got another offer about 5 months later that was a 60% raise. My prior company offered me the same 60% raise and a promotion. Took the new company’s offer and have never been happier in a job.

Several centuries ago, the Pope decreed that all the Jews had to convert to Catholicism or leave Italy. There was a huge outcry from the Jewish community, so the Pope offered a deal. He'd have a religious debate with the leader of the Jewish community... If the Jews won, they could stay in Italy; if the Pope won, they'd have to convert or leave. The Jewish people met and picked an aged and wise Rabbi to represent them in the debate. However, as the Rabbi spoke no Italian, and the Pope spoke no Hebrew, they agreed that it would be a 'silent' debate. On the chosen day, the Pope and the Rabbi sat opposite each other. The Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. The Rabbi looked back and raised one finger. Next, the Pope waved his finger around his head. The Rabbi pointed to the ground where he sat. The Pope brought out a communion wafer and a chalice of wine. The Rabbi pulled out an apple. With that, the Pope stood up and declared himself beaten and said that the Rabbi was too clever. The Jews could stay in Italy! Later the cardinals met with the Pope and asked him what had happened. The Pope said, "First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up a single finger to remind me there is still only one God common to both our beliefs. Then, I waved my finger around my head to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground to show that God was also right here with us. Finally, I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us of all our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of the original sin. He bested me at every move and I could not continue!" Meanwhile, the Jewish community gathered to ask the Rabbi how he had won. "I don't have a clue!!!" the Rabbi said. "First, he told me that we had three days to get out of Italy, so I gave him the finger. Then he tells me that the whole country would be cleared of Jews, so I told him that we were staying right here." "And then what?" asked a woman. "Who knows!!" said the Rabbi. "He took out his lunch, so I took out mine!"

Monday morning at school, the teacher lined up all the students to present their weekend homework assignment: “Sell something, and explain your sales strategy.” Sally went first. “I sold Girl Scout cookies and made $30,” she said proudly. “My approach was appealing to people’s sense of community and supporting local troops.” “Excellent, Sally,” said the teacher. Next up was Jenny. “I sold magazines and made $45,” she said. “I told people it would keep them up to date on world events.” “Very good, Jenny,” the teacher nodded. Then came Little Johnny, lugging a giant cardboard box that he plopped on the teacher’s desk. Out spilled a mountain of cash. The teacher blinked. “Johnny… how much did you make?” “Two thousand, one hundred sixty-seven dollars.” The class gasped. “What were you selling?” “Toothbrushes.” The teacher blinked again. “Toothbrushes?! How on earth did you sell that many?” Johnny grinned. “At first, I couldn’t sell a single one. Nobody cared about toothbrushes. So I changed my strategy.” “I set up a free chips and dip stand downtown during the lunch rush. Everyone who came by tried the dip.” He paused. “And every single person said the same thing” “Ew! This tastes like dog crap!” Johnny nodded. “‘It is, I told them. Now… would you like to buy a toothbrush?’” The class erupted in laughter. The teacher, barely keeping a straight face, said, “Johnny… that’s disgusting! But… oddly impressive. What do you call that sales strategy?” Johnny shrugged. “The government method: give people something crappy for free, then make them pay to fix it.”

UPDATE: "Make it so a person with zero knowledge could understand it"? Ok. About a year ago, I wrote a [very messy and awkwardly worded post](https://www.reddit.com/r/MaliciousCompliance/comments/1c4y2qi/make_it_so_a_person_with_zero_knowledge_could/), describing how my old boss had me fired due to being a whistleblower, citing my (very proven) unorthodox methods, among other bogus claims, while demanding that I create a document for my future replacement, and "make it so a person with zero knowledge could understand it", which... I did. I didn't expect to even write a follow-up, and definitely not this one. I couldn't have come up with this chain of events if I tried. Predictably, as soon as I left the organization, things quickly began to unravel. Projects fell apart. Partnerships I built disintegrated. Volunteers left (some did so in protest). Community engagement, trust and support from target groups pretty much vanished. My replacement was not only completely clueless, but also a non-functional alcoholic, who didn't even want the job (apparently she was lied to), and drove every single programme to the ground. All of which, in turn, alienated donors as well. But that's not all. One of the comments (u/[SeanBZA](https://www.reddit.com/user/SeanBZA/)) on my old posts suggested I contact IRS, because odds are they would find some fraud going on. Well... You weren't very far off. While I didn't contact any authorities, and generally tried to not escalate anything - I ACCIDENTALLY tipped the manager of the org's biggest funders that something was off. I didn't even realize it until much later. I just ran into him at an event and chatted with him, mentioning that I was fired from the org that December. The manager looked confused. "What do you mean? They said you worked there until March, and left on your own!". After a bit of a puzzled exchange, I also noted that the crew of one of the flagship programmes decided to shut it down a few months earlier... Yeah, the organization reported as if the programme is still running. Long story short... The foundation looked into it, and it was not pretty. **But wait, there's more.** The other biggest funder of the org was a government program. On my very first day at work, I flat out told them this grant was extremely unreliable, and that will last 2-3 years at most before the program gets shut down for being too "progressive", and that they should prepare a backup for when this inevitably happens. Well... Guess how this worked out. And now, for the weirdest plot twist. Ultimately, the CEO decided to jump the sinking and burning ship, and quit (or maybe they got fired?). When I saw the open call for CEO, I decided to be a bit of a troll, and apply. It was mostly just for my own amusement - I wasn't expecting to hear back. Both because of my strained relationship with the org, and because, frankly, despite my expertise in my own field - my relevant experience for this kind of position is fairly limited. I just wanted to rub it in a little. I sent my resume and cover letter, and mostly forgot about it. Well... After a couple of months, they called back. Asked me if I'm still interested in the position, and asked for an interview. I thought about it for a few minutes - and decided to politely decline. It was tempting, honestly. But ultimately, I realized I will hate it, and would probably suck at it, too. My skills are in other places, and my heart is in other places as well. I recently decided to take a break from work altogether to focus on my physical and mental health, and while I'm at it, get a Masters degree. Best of luck to whoever decides to take that position - they're going to need it.

A man walks into a bar, orders a double bourbon, neat, and downs it in a single gulp. “How big is a penguin?” he asks. The barman says, “Around 18 inches.” He orders another double bourbon, neat, and gulps it down. “What’s the biggest a penguin can ever be?” The barman frowns. “Three feet, maybe an inch or two more.” The man orders a third double bourbon, neat, and gulps it down even quicker. He sighs. “I may have run over a nun.”

God is travelling around the world to spread his religon He gets to India and asks the public, 'Will you take my commandments to be yours?' The public says no and decides to try elsewhere. He gets to China and asks, 'Will you follow my commandments?' And the public replies no. He gets to Israel and asks, 'Will you take my commandments?' The crowd begins to look at each other questioningly and a single man steps forward. 'How much do they cost?' God replies, 'They're free.' The crowd shouts back, 'WE'LL TAKE TEN!'

I told my dyslexic son to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas and he asked for a sibling As a single father, you can imagine my confusion when I felt something moving in my stomach

A stupid policy was formed as an overcorrection, I was written up for enforcing it A few years back I was a team lead in a call center for a bank. Our building was secure, but policy required any personal information for ourselves or customers be locked up along with the obvious things like passwords anytime we weren't at our desks. A separate compliance group would do random desk checks periodically and violations would result in a write up for the individual which also rolled up to leadership. Us team leads were responsible for completing the checks and were frustrated despite our being the ones responsible for the nightly desk checks. One of my peers had the suggestion that NO personal information, including photos, knickknacks, that sort of thing should be allowed out except for the small shelf everyone had in their cubicle. The person making this suggestion was a friend and was one of the closers who had to do these checks on a regular basis. I was not and only had to do these on weekends. I said something to the effect of "That's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard. That's an overcorrection and no one is going to follow the policy and it's just making our jobs more difficult" I was written up the next day by my boss, who wasn't there, as \*her\* boss was part of that discussion and wanted me disciplined. I observed nearly no one outside of my team was complying by their ridiculous policy. That Saturday when it was my turn for desk checks I wrote a detailed breakdown of every single violation. There were dozens. I kept my feelings on the policy out and stuck to the facts. Monday I was put on a formal warning. That manager wondered why everyone hated her, wasn't sad when she left, or empathized when she was laid off.

I need to work regular office hours? Sure thing! I used to work for a nonprofit that has very important government contracts. My role expanded quite a bit over the years and they weren't sure who I should report to. Now, the executive director of my state didn't like me. I think it's because I take up a lot of space when I know what I'm talking about. I was not thrilled when I became her direct report. She has her own problems 🍸 and I don't suffer fools when it comes to my money. Before I reported to her, my boss didn't care what hours I worked or where I worked from. Which was perfect for me as a single mom of two who got her Bachelor's and Master's while working there full time. I had weekly one on one meetings with my new boss (the ED) on the day she "worked" from home 🍸🍹🍺 As a child of an addict/alcoholic she could really tear me down sometimes. But I put up with her drunken tirades. But here's the kicker. My cousin got diagnosed with breast cancer about 4 months after her husband left her. I was her only family in the area. So I told the ED that I would need to take her to chemo, etc. She told me that I had to take PTO for those times I was going to be with my cousin. I was a salaried employee so I didn't understand but whatever. AND she added that I needed to be in the office from 8:30 to 5:30 every day per my contract. Great! So I started working those hours. A couple of weeks in, she asked me why I was telling my internal customers that I didn't have time to do their marketing. I told her that I was working my contract hours. And was no longer logging on at home from 10 pm to 2 am to make sure everything was done. The look on her face was priceless. She didn't change her mind, though. She had to hire another marketer. Not great for her nonprofit budget!

“They said they were fixing that!” the man complained, trying to sleep through the 5th fire alarm that week. Across the street the arsonist watched, smiling in disbelief at how well his plan worked: not a single person fled the burning high rise.

I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped into the room because the demon I had trapped in there was smiling. Immediately inspecting the seal, I saw, marring the surface of the salt circle, was the imprint of a single cat's paw.

Here’s one that has probably never been heard Years ago I worked for a suburban police department, fairly small but average size for my state. Many people suspect that these smaller towns generate revenue off tickets/citations and that is generally true. My boss, the chief, was in his heyday a “go getter”..loved writing tickets and therefore expected us to follow suit. I was a patrol supervisor-a sergeant-so I was expected to set the standard for the others to follow. One month I’d been called in and counseled about my low “stats”..in other words, I wasn’t writing enough tickets. Legally, they cannot tell a police officer to write tickets and quotas are illegal but..your overall “contacts”, which includes citations, written warnings, and arrests, can be used as a metric to judge performance. Mine were low..typically 20ish tickets and warnings in an agency where most were writing 70-150 tickets a month. I didn’t sign up to be a revenue generator though and it didn’t sit well with me to have to make someone decide between paying a stupid ticket for a broken headlight or feeding their family. Anyway, I was told that I needed to improve my contacts. Yes sir was my response, knowing that he meant write more tickets but couldn’t tell me to write more tickets. So..my contacts improved. Every single person I stopped that month, which if memory serves was around 40, got a written warning. No tickets. No revenue generated. The following month after our stats had been compiled-and posted on the wall of shame for all to see-I was called back into his office. You wrote 40 warnings last month and no tickets, he said. Yes sir, that sounds about right, I replied. And none of those deserved a ticket? Well, I used officer discretion, and in my opinion, none of them did. He was angry by this point and told me he knew the game I was playing. I’m not playing a game, I told him. You said my contacts needed to improve, so are they or are they not improved over the previous month? Oh yeah, they improved alright you smartass, he said.. That was the last time I was hounded about stupid stats or contacts.

When the metric becomes the target (a cautionary tale on being careful what you measure) This happened about eight years ago, when I was still working for a North American class 1 railroad. I worked in IT, specifically in a department whose primary role was to generate metrics and regulatory reporting (for the Surface Transportation Board and their ilk). Most of our measures were inward-facing, though, covering such things as volume, dwell, revenue, and productivity. This story involves a problematic dashboard in the last category – specifically, a measure of the productivity of our unionized office workers. The managers loved it because it gave them a weekly graph of who needed corrective punishment for under-performing. Our toxic CEO of the day was all about punishment. They even had quotas to meet. It was in regards to this last one that (I'll call him B) made the short walk across to our building so that he could ask me about the metric. He'd just come from an uncomfortable meeting with his direct manager who showed him how he was the lowest-performing employee on their graph. By a wide margin. His manager told him to pick up the pace, or he'd face potential repercussions, possibly even a one-week suspension. B came to me because he knew I had access to the back-end of the metrics, and he wanted to know what they were measuring him on because he was never *not* busy. Some important background on B is that he was a very senior, conscientious employee. He had as much experience as the rest of his group combined, and he came to me because we went back about 20 years from my time in the union before I moved to IT. The job of their group was to "work the queue" – that is, go into the failure queue of events that had cacked for one reason or another, resolve the issue, and allow the automated functions to flow properly. A couple of trivial examples would be a train lift failing because the cars had not been properly reported into the customer's track or, conversely, they'd been reported in, but the customer had not electronically released them out yet. Because he had so much experience, B took it upon himself to hand-pick the really messy, time-consuming ones from the queue; ones where somebody had back-dated events, and it took some faffing about to figure out what was wrong, and what needed to be fixed. Or where a conductor took all the paperwork home and forgot to update this tablet with the switching that he'd done. Basically, if it was something that might require phone calls and deep research, he would deal with it rather than let inexperienced folks struggle with it. I pulled up a pre-production version of the dashboard and scrolled through the source code to find the important bits. We discovered that it was looking for clusters of specific event types reported under an employee's User ID with at least a two-minute gap between the clusters. He was puzzled over the last requirement, but I explained that it was so that a single train being processed would only count as one event. It might take a few minutes to fix the train, but the reporting was at the car level, and as long as no more than two minutes elapsed between the report on one car and the next, it would all count as a single incident to the dashboard. "So, it doesn't look at how many records you handle, only that they happen more than two minutes apart?" He paused for a moment before adding, "That's *really* dumb. They don't care about complexity? They're seriously just counting how many times a person clicks OKAY? Somebody could game that pretty easily if they wanted. Hm." He walked away without saying anything else, but I could see the mental gears turning. He came back to me a couple of weeks later to give me the good news. He'd gone from being the most under-performing person in his group to being their top employee by just as big a margin. "It's great," he told me. "Forget all the complicated shit – I'm just grabbing the biggest trains from the queue. I work one screen of cars, then sit back and drink my coffee for exactly three minutes before I process the next. I finally have time to complete the crossword puzzle in my paper. Sadly, the company attributed his miraculous turn-around to their draconian discipline practices, and never clued in that while their numbers went up, their actual productivity had tanked a bit. The only real consequence to him was that his job became a lot easier, and he got to slide into retirement on a high note.

What did the annoying redditor say when begging for more karma? Edit: Omg guys thanks for the 1 upvote! This means so much to me! I can't stress enough how hard my life has been for the past 3 months. This made it all worth it! Edit 2: Omg guys thanks for the 2 upvotes! I am truly proud of this communities ability to come together around a common goal, thank you kind stranger! Edit 3: Wow! The support just doesn't stop! Today at 9:35 pm i officially hit 3 upvotes on this post!! I can't believe you all have stuck with me for so long! I am truly blessed to be living the life i am! Edit 4: 9:37 PM CT; WOW!! 4 upvotes!!!! Just 2 minutes after my last update and you have already upped yourself! You are truly the most supportive people out there, and i hope to be as great as you all one day! Edit 5: 9:39 PM CT; huh, i guess this is what it feels like to lose everything. In just 2 short minutes this post went from 4 upvotes to 3, i have been crying for over 10 seconds now and i don't know if i will be able to recover. Edit 6: i am literally crying and shitting all over the place, i don't even know if my life is worth it anymore. 2 upvotes. 2. I have been hurt in a way i never knew possible. I don't know how i will go on afrer such highs and lows, my sadness only grows with every passing moment. Edit 7: OH MY GOD!! WE ARE BACK TO 4 UPVOTES!! THIS.IS AMAZING!!! I LOVE YOU A KIND STRANGERS!!! EDIT 8: DOUBLE DIGITS!! I now have 5 upvotes!!! Thank you to alL my supporters young and old, new and experienced, and all that you have done to support me along the way! Many years ago my mom pushed me to pursue my dreams of being a rock star, and this is the best thing thing to happen to me after going homeless! Edit 9: I have no words, not only 6 upvotes, but a comment as well! I am getting messages all from all around the world about how what i am doing is good, i am truly humbled by the amount of support i am receiving, but i am still just a normal person, its hard for me to remember that sometimes, just think of me as on the same level as you, i love you all! Edit 10: HOLY MOLY!! TOUCDOWN!!! SEVIN UPVOTES!!!!!!!! THATS MORE THAN THE AMOUNT OF COUNTRIES ON MARS!!!! i am still suprised by the constant support i am recieving and what i am able to achieve if i just push myself! Edit 11: JEEPERS CREEPERS!!! 9 UPVOTES! This is the best thing to ever happen to me! In my entire live. This will never be topped, i would love to take some time to thank all of you that have made it possible for me to reach this point in just one short life. Thank you. Edit 12: It just doesn't stop!!! My inbox is blowing up!! I have 2 whole notifications from this post!! My karma will be hyper inflated by this but i don't care!! I must slumber for the night but i will return to tou lovely people tommorrow! Don't forget me! I'll never forget what you have done for me! Edit 13: i know i said i was going to sleep but i cant just leave my greatest accomplishment like that! I can't even thank every one of you because everything is moving so fast! 19 upvotes, i can't believe i have made it this far! Edit 14: this is amazing, i have no words, all i can bring up is words from edit 3:"Wow! The support just doesn't stop! Today at 9:35 pm i officially hit 3 upvotes on this post!! I can't believe you all have stuck with me for so long! I am truly blessed to be living the life i am!" How young and naive i was, i never knew how much this would blow up, thank you all. 21 upvotes and 3 comments. wow. Edit 15: in just 3 minutes i got 4 more upvotes, 4 more people thought they liked what i did enough to give it a small orange arrow. 4 more members of the family. Thank you. ♥️ Edit 16: this is the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I need sleep but i continue to be awakened by my phone blowing up! Im getting a notification like every 10 minutes! And thanks to this post i may find love, i have been messaged by multiple hot singles in my area! Thank you all. You have truly changed my life. Edit 17: 30. Wow. That is alot, you could fill an entire small classroom with 30 people! The support that this post has recieved is amazing, i truly didn't expect it to blow up! Edit 18: Time to sleep. I have achived everyones greatest goal: 42 reddit upvotes. Thank you to every single one of you. And the comments, ooooooh the comments are amazing, to you 3, YOU, yes you, are good. Good night. I will return in the morn, 5:30 CT, you all have let me accomplish my dreams. I truly, didn't expect this to blow up! Edit 19: WHAT!?!?!!? I am blown away by what just one small community can accomplish over night! 689 upvotes. Wow. I can't believe that you all are still happy with what i've been doing here. Thank you kind strangers!! Edit 20: in the words of well, me "HOLY MOLY!! TOUCDOWN!!! SEVIN HUNDRED UPVOTES!!!!!!!! THAT IS ALOT OF UPVOTES!!! I HOPE THAT IF YOU'RE READING THIS YOU ALL BECOME RICH AND SUCCESSFUL!! Edit 21: OH MY GOD!!! I GOT A PLATINUM AND A SILVER!!

GET RID OF THOSE F#&KIN' DANDELIONS!!!! When I was 24 I got first place on my own. I'd rented a townhouse (this was back in the late 80s even when poor people could rent entire houses) and was putting myself through college. Not a lot of money to spare, but I was getting by. The townhouse was not detached, and I had 2 neighbours whose homes were directly attached to my own. I got along fine with my southern-most neighbour (aka we said "hi" when we saw each other and that was about it) but the other neighbour, he had a chip on his shoulder. Generally rude if we bumped into each other, I'd say "hi" or "good morning", he'd ignore me, scowl, turn away, etc. Whatever, no big deal, I just took it in stride. Being a struggling college student, I didn't have a lot of money for non-essentials. Most of the people in the neighbourhood poured weedkillers on their lawns every spring. I didn't do this, for several reasons. Most important, I think it's a shame to poison the local water table, and while I love a nice lawn, I don't think you have to cater to grass. I prefer a more natural look. Back then, that meant regular grass, but with some crabgrass and dandelions. One day Bob starts berating me over my dandelions. "It doesn't fit the neighbourhood! Don't you have any self respect? You bring down the tone of the neighbourhood!" Every time he'd see me, he'd tell me I need to pour poison on my lawn (which I explained I couldn't afford and didn't want to do). At first I was polite as I wanted to be on good terms with my neighbours, but Bob started getting angrier and angrier, and more and more unreasonable, started calling me "poor white trash". One day I'm coming home, parking in my driveway with some friends from school in my car. As we're getting out, Bob comes outside and shouts, at the top of his lungs, "GET RID OF THOSE FUCKING DANDELIONS!!!" He looks over and now spots my friends getting out of the car, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doubled down and started talking directly to my friends. "Did you know your friend is an embarrassment to the neighbourhood? How's it feel to be friends with white trash?" I had just about had enough of his anger by then, and I snapped back, told him to fuck off and mind his own business. Several days later I get a knock on my front door. Open up the door, and it's a bylaw enforcement officer. Says he's responding to complaints of "noxious weeds" in my backyard, and asks to come take a look for himself (being a middle unit, the only access to my backyard was through the house). I invite him in, offer him a drink of water (which he gratefully accepts; hot day!) and take him through to the backyard. Lots of lovely white and yellow dandelions peppered over the yard. He takes one look, and gives a deep sigh. There were no "noxious weeds", which I knew full well, as I had long ago taken the precaution of checking with the city to see what was and what was not acceptable in the weed department. And I knew I was well, very comfortably, within compliance. The bylaw cop apologized for wasting my time, said my yard was "Nowhere near" a problem. He left, and went next door to chastise my neighbour for wasting his time. I stood at my front door and listened, it was glorious listening to Bob sputtering and angry, trying to defend himself and vilify me, all to no avail. "My wife and I can't even sit out and enjoy our back yard, because of all those stupid dandelions!" Bylaw cop told him to stop harassing his neighbours and left. But listening in gave me an idea. I knew Bob liked to sit out on his back deck in the afternoons, so I waited. As soon as I spotted him out there, I walked out into my backyard, ignoring Bob as I gathered up a nice bouquet of white-topped dandelions, seeds ready to disperse to the wind. We had a 4-foot high chain link fence between our properties, so the view between yards was pretty much unobstructed. I stood at the fence, locked eyes with Bob, and started blowing thousands of dandelion seeds into his yard. The wind was at my back so the seeds were traveling quite far into his yard. He grew red-faced and started yelling at me. "What's the matter Bob? I'm just doing what you asked, and getting rid of my dandelions." He yelled more, and I just ignored him. After depositing several dandelions worth of seeds he went back inside. From that day forward, for the next several weeks, every single time I saw him out on his deck, I'd go out and send more dandelion seeds into his yard. Eventually dandelion flowering season ended. I wanted to think that Bob learned a lesson about bullying. But he didn't. I'll post some of his other bullying attempts at some other time.

I handed one of the six friends a revolver with a single bullet, telling them they’d all go free if the trigger was pulled six times, aimed at someone else each time. The real fun begins when they realize the bullet was only a blank.

You want me to do my work your way? Sure. I’ve been handling this annual event for years. I know the process, the information we need from guests, when to handle their VISAs, and how to plan the event flow down to the minute. My boss, on the other hand, mostly knows how to look like he does. Last year’s event was a mess, so this time I came prepared. I built a shared Excel sheet for the committee. It was clean, structured, everything in one place. Guest names, designations, dietary restrictions, flight details. Fully tabulated, filterable, easy to manage. The idea was simple: input once guests have submitted their RSVP via a Google Form, and we’re set. At some point, my boss saw the sheet. He deleted it. No heads up, no informing anything btw. Just gone. Instead, he created a new tab linking directly to the raw Google Form responses. During a progress meeting, I mentioned (politely) that the working sheet had disappeared. That’s when he admitted to deleting it because his version was “more automated”, just use the form responses and add columns as needed. In hindsight, it made sense but not for this kind of event. It was just waay more complicated. Guests submit multiple responses when details change. Some cancel. Some bring plus-ones with completely different flights and dietary needs. It gets messy fast. I raised these concerns, especially since I’d be the one managing it anyway. Despite me explaining multiple times that it’s gonna be very inefficient, he insisted his way was better. Alright then. I’ll comply. Every bit of information went exactly where his the form responses allowed it to go, no extra structuring, no cleanup. Duplicate RSVPs? Highlighted in red, no consolidation. Different flight details in one submission? All four flights crammed into a single cell. Dietary restrictions for multiple guests? All dumped together, good luck figuring out who’s vegan and who has a nut allergy. Special requests? Full essay pasted in one cell, untouched. I followed his way exactly. Eventually, he realized the sheet was unusable. Couldn’t filter anything properly, couldn’t find what he needed, and definitely couldn’t present it proudly to management to take credit for someone else’s work. Meanwhile, I quietly rebuilt my original Excel on my personal drive, so my actual work wasn’t affected. But not gonna lie, was tough trying to switch tabs like a ninja when he’s micromanaging at my desk.

But they aren’t wearing ties! I saw a similar story that reminded me of mine. Many years ago I worked at a print shop that no longer has its original name, but people still call it by its original name and is notorious for iffy customer service. (Side note: one of the main reasons is that we encountered the most ridiculous asks so when a perfectly reasonable request came through, we were already sitting on ready to engage in the madness…apologies for anyone who was reasonable) Anyway, we were a pretty laid back, island of misfits store…grad students, wayward musicians, lifers, tokers, and single moms who work two jobs…but collectively got ish done. P&L unmatched to the smoke breaks taken. Our uniforms were navy pants and a button down shirt (long or short sleeve…dealer’s choice!) and could even order a cardigan sweater, which all came from the corporate catalog. We get a new district manager who does a store visit. She determines that the men were not adhering to the official uniform because none of them were wearing ties. Pause. The reason why? We have an industrial size laminating machine that was diabolical and easily snatched up ties. Just a general chocking hazard and made absolutely no sense to wear to do this job. She threatens to write up anyone non-compliant and puts our store on notice. Quiet storm Gil (not his real name) says, bet. He reviews the handbook and sees that both neckties and bow ties are acceptable with no additional descriptions. So he orders a box of what can only be called the comical clown collection of bow ties from eBay. Puts them in the break room and tells the store to have at it. We are talking about polka dots, paisley, stripes in every color of the rainbow and of ridiculous size proportions. Honestly, a joy to witness. Customers are like, this is interesting. Which btw, makes Gil and others grumpy because they are taking a stance, not trying to spend more time with customers. A month later, district manager visits again. We have now normalized the bow ties. She is livid. She speaks to our store manager, who shows her the employee handbook and points out how it doesn’t provide color or size parameters and technically, they are all compliant and have taken her warning seriously. Soooo… After she leaves, our store manager says that they no longer have to wear ties and it is up to the discretion of each employee if they want to wear a tie on shift. Every now and then someone would walk onto the floor with a polka dot reminder.

You want these ads done 3 months in advance? No problem, boss. Long-time lurker, but I finally have something to share that’s happened within the last few months. I work as a senior graphic designer for a company for 5 years now. Originally it was only a team of 3: a marketing manager, a marketing executive, and myself. The former two have since quit, and you’ll find out later why. A huge part of my job is to handle a huge advertising schedule in a project management system (PMS) for which I design print/ digital ads for. Enter, my difficult micromanaging manager. He’s the VP of Sales and Marketing who’s been with the company for 30+ years. His way of quality control is to force all our marketing materials to go through an “approval process” in our PMS in which everyone else has to give their feedback and only then will my manager will give the final sign off once it reaches him. On top of that he insists on being copied on every notification for every single step of the way. So every single ad I produced had to be sent through our PMS while tagging the product managers and proofreaders. Those individuals would then comment feedback for changes needed, or if the ad is approved, they’d mark it complete and then send it along to the next person. It would end with this micromanaging manager, who’d have the final say on whether it’s good to be sent out or not. Sometimes the process would be flawless as everyone would approve it the first time with no changes needed. But when it got to my manager, he’d reject it and I’d have to do it over pending his remarks. The thing with our PMS is that you can see timestamps of when people viewed updates. He’s on our project board so he gets all the updates, and he could’ve easily interceded earlier and let me know if changes were needed to pass his check so I’d not waste my time. But because of the way he is, he only wants to see the final drafts after everyone else sees them. Everyone else always seems to move things along in a timely fashion, but when it finally gets to my manager he'd just let it sit and then you'd have to constantly check to see if he marked it off. When I pushed back and stated how arduous this all is, his tone-deaf reply was to “have it done 3 months in advance.” He also insisted that the ads I produced have to look different each time for each publication’s insertion order. So after 4 years of handling all this by myself, I was barely meeting deadlines, and the quality of my work started slipping as I was making really stupid mistakes. Every few months I would ask my manager if we’re going to hire an additional designer for our department since we’re doing more marketing, and every year I’d hear, “It’s not in our budget right now.” Things came to a head during one of my biannual reviews, where I told my manager bluntly, in front of HR, that we desperately needed to hire an additional designer, as there was no way for me to hit the “3 months ahead” goal that he keeps parroting. He actually asked me, and I quote, “Is it typical for companies to have more than one graphic designer?” I’m dead serious. I showed how I handled everything by myself as best as I could at that point, and I was getting burnt out. For those that may ask why I stay, they compensate me VERY well without having to commute into a major metropolitan city. A golden handcuffs situation, if you will. By the end of the meeting, my manager finally caved and gave me permission to hire an additional designer who started with us this past January. While showing him the ropes on our design systems, he told me the manager said something snarky to him along the lines of, **“I never imagined having to hire TWO designers. You guys should have no problem being 3 months ahead on ads now.”** Are you kidding me? Over the years, I watched my manager as he hired a plethora of account executives and replacements for our department, most of whom quit within months under his watch, but he’s going to give me crap for needing ONE designer after I made things work for 4 years by myself? I was so infuriated by his comments that I decided: **He wants ads done 3 months in advance? Okay, bet!** I trained the new designer on our approach to the advertising schedule in the PMS and the ins and outs of the approval process, and we went to work. We both proceeded to BURY my manager in notifications as we churned out ad after ad after ad, pushing items through the pipeline with my manager receiving notifications on EVERY. SINGLE. UPDATE. When the tasks ended at him and we got no response, we set up automations to ping him every hour calling for his approval. We also would send detailed weekly reports stating our progress and also made it inherently clear to mention our goal was **“to be 3 months ahead of deadlines.”**  By this past May, in time for one of my biannual reviews, my manager made an announcement. He announced my coworker, the marketing assistant, would be promoted to the vacant marketing manager pos

Don't believe me that I have severe bowel issues enjoy having it clogged and fleece toilet Background: do to medications and bad genetics I am not in any way regular. Anytime at a new job or new location I look for the most powerful toilet there to not inconvenience people you know those air pressurized ones that sound like a jet's going off those usually can survive. Years ago I worked in an old three story building. 3rd floor employee bathroom has your standard low flow worthless. Anytime nature called I would make my way down the stairs to the lobby and use the more updated pressurized toilets and let me just say that with all of the supplements I take to make the job easier you could have days if not weeks of filler for the toilet in a matter of seconds. Of course new manager comes in not liking that I'm taking 30 minute toilet breaks walking all the way down to the lobby walking all the way back up he demands I use the employee toilet down the hall. Que:Malicious Compliance Now you can imagine the problems this now causes at least once every two weeks toilet is stuck plumber stuck and not the best smell of course it shuts down that employee toilet so now everyone has to go down at least one floor to use someone else's toilet so everyone's taking more time he finally believes me that hey I don't have a doctor's note that I need a more powerful toilet because that's stupid but maybe just let me go down to the lobby to not inconvenience every single person here and make their rest of their day for two or three days more miserable nife EDIT: Voice to text\ edit: everyone should=downvote every poop knife post. It is weird.

Three Irishmen and Three Scots are on a train Three Scots and three Irishmen are traveling by train to a conference. At the station, the three Irishmen each buy tickets and watch as the three Scots buy only a single ticket. "How are three people going to travel on only one ticket?" asks an Irishman. "Watch and you'll see," answers a Scot. They all board the train. The Irishmen take their respective seats but all three Scots cram into a bathroom and close the door behind them. Shortly after the train has departed, the conductor comes around collecting tickets. He knocks on the bathroom door and says,"Ticket, please." The door opens just a crack and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand. The conductor takes it and moves on. The Irishmen see this and agree it was quite a clever idea. So after the conference, the Irishmen decide to copy the Scots on the return trip and save some money (being clever with money,and all that). When they get to the station, they buy a single ticket for the return trip. To their astonishment, the Scots don't buy a ticket at all. "How are you going to travel without a ticket?" says one perplexed Irishman. Watch and you'll see," answers a Scot. When they board the train the three Irishmen cram into a bathroom and the three Scots cram into another one nearby. The train departs. Shortly afterwards, one of the Scots leaves his bathroom and walks over to the bathroom where the Irishmen are hiding. He knocks on the door and says, "Ticket, please."

Short and silly story at McDonalds that happened today. I had 6,000 pts for a free Big Mac on the McDonalds app so I swung by to get it. Happened to have 35 cents in the car so I added an extra piece of cheese, paid at the first window, got my burger, and after taking a bite I realized... no extra cheese. Thought about letting it go, but dammit I paid for that and figured I could get a second burger out of it for my time wasted, so I went back into the drive thru, waited behind 3 cars, and when I got to the drive-up window the girl had the audacity to just hand me a cold piece of cheese. So I was like, "No I already started eating it without the cheese before I realized, and had to wait in line again... so I'd like it re-made." She checked with her manager, and came back and said, "Ok but you have to give me the old burger back." Nodding, I picked up the burger and proceeded to take the 3 largest bites you'd ever seen and left nothing but a single bite and a pile of lettuce. Mouth stuffed full of big mac, sauce all over my face, I gave her the biggest shit-eating grin as I handed her the box containing what was left. She actually grinned back. (She must think her manager is anal, too.) I got a new one with TWO pieces of cheese a half a minute later. 35 cents well spent today. P.S. screw any manager that would allow food to be wasted like that just to satisfy their own ego. P.P.S. I would \*never\* do this to a small, locally owned business. But, McDonalds? I have no shame. EDIT: It seems some people think I acted like a, "Karen" in this situation. You're entitled to your opinions, but I'd wager McDonalds has screwed all of you out of far more than just a piece of cheese in the past. My "McDonalds screwed up again" punch-card was full, so this time, I chose to not let it go.

If a single radio's battery dies, shut it all down This happened over 5 years ago, and it still ticks me off whenever I think about it. Also sorry about how long this is lol: I was 17 working at a big theme park, and had been working there for the better part of the year. I had quickly picked things up, and was usually regarded as the responsible one on the team when it was just a bunch of us teens working a ride. We had a college student intern lead who was... not good at leading, or training new hires... We'll call him M. At my main ride, it required 3 people minimum to operate; One person in the control booth, one at the entrance gate, and one at the exit. However, we could have 4 or 5 if we were incredibly busy to help deal with the line. The people in the booth and at the entrance could not see the person at the exit directly, so we used radios. The control booth also had a camera on the exit gate. From day 1 on the job, we were taught hand signals in case the radio dies or for quick communication, these signals were universal across the entire park. That summer, 3 freshly certified kids (we had to take tests to prove we paid attention to training) started the ride with someone locked inside the fence, aka: not in a seat. Twice it was another employee, once it was a guest (which was a HUGE deal). The thing with those incidents was that those in the control booth didn't notice their mistake until the others SCREAMED at them to hit the E-stop. Those new hires were either retrained or moved to a simpler ride. Well, one incredibly busy day, there were 5 of us running things. Me, M, and 3 others. M had been called over to another ride, which normally wasn't an issue. About an hour later, someone was scheduled to go home, and M hadn't come back yet. I called the other ride and asked them to send him back. We could've run things with 3 of us, but it was super busy and we really needed a 4th. A few minutes later, someone (not our lead) was sent over to take over. Weird, but no big deal. Another hour or so went by, someone else needed to go home, I called again asking for M. Also, all the radios' batteries were dead/dying. Things had slowed down, so I, being the spare 4th person, took the radios to the office to get fresh batteries. This took less than 10 minutes, and in that time, the guys had switched to hand signals as we were trained. When I came back, our lead had once again sent over someone else to take his spot. At this point I realized that M was probably just shooting the shit in the nice air-conditioned booth at the other ride. Now the guy that got sent over to us was normally at a rollercoaster and hadn't been at this ride in over a month, so I gave him a quick review and he took controls. I turned around for maybe 30 seconds when I hear yelling. I turn around, and the ride was stopped maybe 3 ft off the ground with our entrance guy locked in the fence. The guy at controls saw what he did and hit the E-stop, something that the other screwups that summer did not think to do. We had to call upper management, and wouldn't ya know? M came running over! This time the highest of the higher ups came over as well. They pulled each of us aside and interrogated us (which was odd) then walked away and talked for like half an hour. They then FIRED the guy at controls on the spot, and came up with BS reasons to get the rest of us removed from running rides. They absolutely were only doing that to make an example of us. I tried to rip into M for shirking his duties, but as an anxiety ridden kid it didn't hit very hard. I was mainly pissed off that they fired the poor guy who never should have been there in the first place. Remember I took the already dead radios earlier? They tried to say I had 'removed communication devices from the ride area' which prevented them from letting controls know they were outside the gate. They were basically trying to pin the whole thing on me. Total bull, bc this happened after I brought them back. I assume M threw me under the bus for being 'in charge' while he wasn't there. Also, we had hand signals!!! I tried explaining that to them, but they didn't give a shit. I refused to sign the paperwork which would be admitting fault, so this fight was stretched over multiple days. Plus I was leaving for college in like 2 weeks and didn't want to spend my last days of summer cleaning bathrooms. They gave us a new rule: if a single radio was dying, we had to call a manager to fetch us a new battery even if we had people to spare to go grab one instead. If a radio died, we had to close the ride. Managers roamed around the whole area and were responsible for sooooo much, so if you called them and it wasn't urgent, it could take a long time for them to show up. The next day, my radio was dying, I called the manager, half hour goes by, I call again. My radio died. I shut down the ride. The people in the over-an-hour line got PISSED. I explained to people that we had to close because

working hours I once had a job where I did network support for a corporation in a city that supported a manufacturing plant in another state. That plant started operations at 7 every morning and the software and data connections had to be up and running when the plant started or they couldn’t do their business. So, I made it my job to make sure I was there at 7 every morning.  Because of this I would leave around 4:000 pm in the afternoon. One day somebody had some network problem at 4:30 and I was not there to answer questions.  I’m not talking about problems at the plant. I’m talking about one person in the office had trouble with their terminal.  The next day I was given a lecture that I had to stay until 5 every day. I tried to point out the reason for the early arrival and departure.  But the manager, of course, couldn’t understand this logic. She wanted me there until 5 because her friend had issues getting her terminal to work at 4:30 one day.  Because of the sub this is listed on, I guess you know what happened. I started working 8 to 5. It wasn’t two weeks before there was a problem at the with the plant communications at 7:00 am.  I got the call around 7:00, all I could do was say “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I just got out of bed so it’s going to be about an hour.”  Nobody got fired over this and nobody had to eat crow and tell me to return to arriving at 7. But not a single person ever said anything about me leaving at 4:00 again.

Don't think anyone will care what I think and advise me to leave a negative review? Awesome let's see what happens This is a long one but I still enjoy it. Long ago I was dumb enough to rent a house within the control of an HOA. I have since learned better. This property was managed by a company called (city I lived in) properties they had purchased the house within the HOA and rented to us but given that I wasn't actually in the HOA I was just a renter it became a really conveluded mess very quickly. We were told that we would need to adhear to the HOA guidelines, but we couldn't talk to the HOA directly nor would we be able to receive a copy of the rules but that it wasn't that serious most of their tenants didn't ever hear from them. Should have said no right then but I was young and dumb. The day I arrived at the property to move my stuff in I was informed by my landlord that I was being fined 100 dollars for my trash cans being visible from the street. Apparently because my trashcan was delivered by the city two days prior to a place I didn't have access to, it was my responsibility to have driven across town and broken into the backyard to move the trash cans. The first infraction is a warning they never passed on the second is 100 dollars. They said I was responsible for it especially after the warning I literally never received. Then they told me that they would only accept payment in person going forward even though my deposit and first months rent were paid online, and it must be through a money order in person. Then they informed me the office for (the city I lived in) properties which I'd never been to is actually a two hour drive away totally not in (the city I lived in.) I told them this is my first day in I got the keys a hour ago there's no way I could have done this correctly. Surely it could be explained to the HOA that this couldn't be my fault. They said no I couldn't talk to the HOA because I wasn't a member couldn't see the rules I was supposed to follow because the HOA only allows copies for members. Then they pointed me to a single line in the rental agreement that said I would follow the rules. After far more back and forth than should be required for something so ridiculous we came to an agreement that they would cover the fine but for some reason it was impossible to wave the record of the infractions and I would be half way to eviction on day one. All of it counted against me but they'd do the 100 dollars. I asked if there were any more rules that I needed to be aware of up front since I couldn't get a copy of the rules. They told me I had to mow every Thursday because that and the trashcan thing is what typically gets people in trouble. They do a "walk by" Fridays if we mowed on Wednesday it would be too long by then if we did it Friday they'd count it as not done. I mow the lawn every Thursday for months and kept my head down I never even spoke to a neighbor or did anything to draw attention to myself. Around 3/4ths of the way through the lease I get a 400 dollar fine on a Friday with a photo taken nearly in my backyard of my grass with a ruler next to it which I had just mowed the day before. I'd missed a single tuft of grass behind the AC unit it was less than half an inch above the rest of it they'd walked through the yard to the back corner with a ruler to find an issue. They said this puts me on my final warning before eviction unless I could prove it was cut by a specific landscaping company owned by someone in the HOA. Apparently the HOA only accepts work from them and it's the only way to reverse a fine. I fought it hard but ultimately I paid it because I was almost out. Then I started to pay to have it done by that company and kept receipts just in case Around 2 months or so left in the lease I get another notice this time it's a 600 dollar fine and a formal letter stating that I would be evicted and a picture of my grass fully mowed. No ruler no indication that anything was really wrong just a wide shot of my house with cut grass. Since the last time I was told that a receipt proving it was done by them could clear it up. I called the landlord up offer to show them the copy of the receipt told them to look at this picture or come by with a ruler but it was done correctly. I figured it was a misunderstanding and there's no way I'm actually getting evicted over this. A woman who I'd never spoken with answers the phone and comes in hot from the get go. I calmly explained the situation to her, she isn't having any of it cuts me off mid sentence says I have to pay 600 today then they are going to evict me. Refused to look at the receipt or the photo tells me the buck stopped there and it's my fault for being a bad tenant and to just save my breath and start packing. I told her I didn't recognize her voice and that I had been dealing with someone else. I asked how long she'd been there. "2 days I just started." I ask to speak to someone else who might be more exper

What do you call a group of men in a flying car having unsatisfying sexual intercourse with a single woman because they feel sorry for her? A shitty pity gangbang.

Give me a zero for no name, got it So this happened about 12 years ago, but I thought it would be funny to post. I have a learning disability, and I’ve worked really hard to become successful academically, but when I was 14, I was still learning. So I worked really hard on this paper for my history class, and I was really proud of it when I turned it in. Two weeks later I have a zero, and when I ask why, my teacher says that I forgot to put my name in the correct spot, and he “Couldn’t find it” and “college professors won’t remember your name”. Ok, cue malicious compliance. For the next 5 papers I proceeded to highlight, underline, bold and use red ink for. Every. Single. Assignment. It gets more obnoxious for every assignment, until finally I’m using clipart and pointing arrows at my name. Finally my teacher tells me I’ve made my point, and could I please stop. I do, but I also cheer when he leaves at the end of the year and is replaced by the man that made me go into history as a career. Also, when I was getting my associates at community college, I forgot my name on a paper. My professor didn’t deduct points, and he wrote my nickname at the top. Edit: I went to a small private school, with, I kid you not, 12 people in my graduating class. It was not hard to figure out who’s paper was who’s even if I didn’t put my name on it, which I did, it just wasn’t in the right place.

Today, I asked my phone “Siri, why am I still single?” And it activated the front camera.

Had to comply before my boss would see that an idea was so stupid it would prevent customers even entering the store. **Apologies for verbosity. I remember this all very clearly though it was 25 years ago; SUMMARY AT THE END if you need it.** From 1997-2004, I was a retail manager, mostly for a chain of record stores. I was widely considered to be one of the best managers in the company, mainly because I worked very hard, was very diligent, hired good staff, and took great pride in my work. My branch ran like clockwork, so I was frequently sent to other branches that were failing, in order to get them licked into shape, to install better routines, and to retrain staff to keep it that way. The company even used in-store administrative paperwork that I designed because I found the existing stuff messy and inefficient. All this to say; my opinions were well respected, and any concerns I raised well heeded. Until… October 2001. I was asked to sign for a consignment of “trestle tables”. That was how they were described. They were folding wallpaper pasting tables. I thought there must be some mistake, but no, it was addressed “care of \[me\]” and to my branch. The accompanying memo said that I needed to erect these tables, ALL TWENTY OF THEM, on the shop floor, and staple the accompanying plastic (rolls of what I can only describe as trash bag plastic, both in quality and smell, but red), to the tops of them like tablecloths. There are a number of issues here: Firstly, what for? We have beautiful, bespoke, powder-coated shelving for all the CDs etc. It’s a slick, professional retail space. What’s the deal with wanting it to look like a yard sale? More importantly, my store, at least, the retail space, is small. Barely more than 15’ x 20’ in fact. And the middle of the room is dominated by a large, immovable rack unit which houses the back catalogue CDs. Customers already complain that the store is cramped. People in wheelchairs and parents with strollers complain that it is hardly navigable. So even ONE of these tables is going to provide a maddening and pointless obstacle, perhaps even a safety hazard, not to mention blocking access to existing stock. Just one. I’m supposed to erect twenty. This is ridiculous. So I called my regional manager, (I’ll call him Greg) and asked him what this was about. In fact I gave him my thoughts in the strongest possible terms. But he seemed to think it was a brilliant idea by our recently installed new owners, and would “get customers in”. I pointed out that on the contrary, it was guaranteed to keep customers out, since they’d sent me 240 square feet of tables and I only have \~220 square feet of floor space. They couldn’t get in even if they wanted to. And they would only want to out of sheer morbid curiosity. He simply could not understand the problem. I implored him to understand the numbers, to visualise the absurdity of this. He couldn’t. He said it had all been worked out and every branch had the exact number of tables they needed. The conversation got heated. I said he was stupid if he couldn’t understand this. He ordered me to “Just get it done.” And that he’d be down first thing in the morning “To check compliance” - and yes, I vividly remember him using that word - before slamming the phone down. Well I was infuriated, but determined to show him the issue fully if that’s what he wanted. I stayed late, alone, and wrestled these tables into place, having to carry each one down a long flight of stairs since deliveries are made to the top level of the mall, what they call the “service deck”. It took me over two hours, cost me my back and many cuts and bruises, but I managed to get 18 of them in place, complete with “tablecloths” stapled to them. My beautiful shop floor is now a three foot high sea of shitty red plastic, with barely a single square foot of floor space to stand in. I made sure that there was a navigable path underneath, since I still needed to set the alarm and get out. I did so, having to literally army crawl under the tables to the exit, just managing to get the shutter down and locked in time. The next morning, about 8:35am, Greg was there as promised, having got there before me. He was standing In stunned disbelief, looking through our grill shutter at this scene. “What have you done?” He said, somehow in disbelief. “Exactly what you asked for. Exactly what we talked about yesterday. Wait there…” I slid the shutter up and army crawled back across the floor to the alarm to disarm it, before shouting back to him “That’s what I have to do just to get in. What do you propose the customers do if they want to buy something, or even look at a product? Should they walk on top of the tables or crawl underneath?” Greg’s eyes were like dinner plates as he stood helpless at the entrance. How he couldn’t picture this in his mind yesterday I don’t know, but I think he sees the problem now. “Actually Greg, this is only 18 of the 20 tables. We could st

I'm using too much of my PTO? I work at a massive company in corporate. Great place but unfortunately was stuck under a micromanaging director who had random neurotic episodes Our team was always burnt out because if mr. Director saw you leave your desk for any reason like to go to the bathroom, get water, or take a lunch break, he took that as you not being busy enough and would pile on even more useless work. And if you left a minute before 5:05 he got *really* upset. Oh, and forget about working from home (everyone else did) Finally the time came for the big international trip I had been planning for *years* that was now possible after covid. I hardly took time off and slaved away the whole year while my friends on other teams enjoyed life. We were more pressured this year to always be working and not take time off. *We had so much work we couldn't even take time off.* I ensure everything is wrapped up first, plus it's december so most people are out anyway. Take my 1.5 week trip and had an amazing time Fast forward a month and my manager (who reports to mr. Director) tells me that I need to watch out and not take so much vacation. He states matter-of-factly that I need to be more careful about using my days and I've actually run out of time to take off What? We're checking vacation days? I was shocked as we were repeatedly told that we should **not** log our days in the system because they aren't checking. It's an "honor system". And nobody cares how many days you take if it's reasonable I ask what should I do differently? I always check well in advance and add it on your calendar. Should I start logging my days in the system? How is that possible if I have at least a week left? (I keep track myself) He won't give me a straight answer and is super vague Okay. Since we're now tracking vacation days, I'll make sure I log everything in the system I went in and backlogged all of the days I had ever taken off prior years. Weeks upon weeks of PTO. Even needed HR approval since some were so long ago. Manager had to go in and approve every single request since it notifies you and requires you to respond. Going forward I submitted everything. And yes, I had plenty of PTO left Manager starts getting annoyed. Says that I really don't need to log time off. I stop him right there, "but I thought I was taking too much vacation? We all need to be sure that we're being truthful about the honor system" He doesn't know what to say Later a teammate tells me what really went down. Turns out one day, Mr. Director decided that his team was taking too much time off. That all the useless work he assigned was "not getting done". He had one of his tantrums and started freaking out and tracked down every day off, doctor's appointment, sick day, etc. that our team of 8 people had taken going back at least a year. He was checking calendars, digging up emails, asking other people if they saw us this day or that. Even though he had told us time and time again "you don't need to log your days, we're not checking" But because Mr. director was a B-cluster narcissist, he was much too busy and important to take up his concerns with us lowly employees directly. Or to talk things through like an adult and get all the facts first... but not too busy to account for every hour I wasn't at work This would be one of many "infractions" that came out of nowhere. Mr. director was also an extremely difficult person to work with. Other teams did not want to work with our team. He treated people poorly and I can't tell you how many people flat out hated him And guess what? Nobody had used anywhere near all their PTO. There were zero performance concerns and we were an extremely high performing team due to the constant fear of setting him off. I always asked for feedback and got nothing Yet coworkers with planned family trips were getting pressured into pushing them back again, and again, and again, because mr director needed them there sitting at their desk in case something important came up! Meanwhile mr. Director made sure to use more than his allotted PTO days and frequently took week-long trips I made sure to use the rest of my PTO days since they were now being tracked. Mr. director actually tried to stop it, but I threatened to take it up with HR since I had plenty of time left and he backed off Thankfully I escaped that team and moved internally. I was doing so much work, much of it technical for a non-technical team, that nobody knew how to do it. Mr director was frantically reaching out to me and *demanding* me to fix stuff. Even though I spent my last 2 weeks documenting and transitioning over everything. I chose to ignore him, and it felt great My old teammates still there are miserable. The people that replaced us are already trying to leave. One guy, who'd been with the company for years, completely left the company a month after joining this team when realizing his mistake

Sony has a site where you can watch The Interview for $5.99 and I can't think of a single reason not to trust them with my credit card info.

You need me to stop calling in advance for my TCG order? I just got home from this experience and I wanted to share.  As a hobby, I have taken to trading card games. Pokémon, and Magic the Gathering to be specific. I am not collecting sealed products, but rather I am usually buying bulk so that I can make multiple decks and play with my family. This is important because I am often making huge bulk orders that consist of fifty cards or more.  There are a few shops near me, and I am fortunate enough to be close to about five hobby shops that sell Pokémon and Magic singles.  I managed to drag my family into the Pokémon TCG hobby roughly a year ago. Since then, the process of making an order was to; select from their online stock, and checkout with the cart. At this time, you are given two options; pay in advance for your order, or pay in the store. Paying in advance, while very sensible, has often led to cards being paid for that they did not have in stock. As in, it was mistakenly labeled as in stock, but actually was not. This would then result in a refund system that would take 2-3 days to complete. The issue is that it was super inconvenient when I had to wait for 2-3 days to recoup the money. I personally experienced a transaction of a $10 card that needed to be refunded. So I spoke to one of the staff, and they told me, “When you have big orders, it's perfectly fine to call ahead of time, and we can pick the order when we have time. In fact, as long as you don’t abuse this process, it works out for everyone.”  That staff member is awesome, and so for a year, that’s exactly what I did. This process accomplishes three things.  * One, I am not paying for a product that couldn’t be fulfilled. * Two, I would reduce my time waiting because I called ahead of time by four to five hours. * Three, the staff members would have plenty of time to grab the order. I never abused this process, and always came through when I said I would come through. Now, this wouldn’t be malicious compliance if not for the next part. About two months ago, me and my family took the dive into Magic the Gathering, because Commander is a blast. This has caused me to start hoarding cards again, and making decks for myself, and for my family’s usage. So I was back into the swing of things again. Making 50+ single card orders from this shop that I loved very much.  During my usual four hour in advance phone call I was told, “Hey, you have to stop calling in these orders. It’s store policy to only pull orders that have been paid for. We won’t be pulling your cards until they are paid for.” Weird… I was told otherwise, but I will ask them when I get there. So, I get there to pick up, and pay for my order and tried to explain that this process was something that a previous staff member told me was A-OK, and even encouraged. There were two staff members and they both responded again with a very terse and repeated message of “it’s store policy.” The message was fine enough, but the tone and rudeness had me floored. They told me from now on, pre-pay for all of my orders, and then come to pick them up. So here is where the malicious compliance begins.  It was clear what they wanted me to do. Pre-pay and show up. So a few weeks later, what I did was scroll through their inventory, and started the “bling-a-fication” of my decks. I proceeded to spend roughly forty minutes scrolling through their online inventory, and adding to my cart with various amounts of most holo-foil basic land card I could find for under a dollar.  For those of you who aren’t familiar, these basic lands are pretty cheap ($0.10-$0.60 each). They also are categorized by sets and as individual printings. So each basic land has its own set, and its own foil print version. This means that they would need to hunt each land by set, and by foil print. I had carted roughly one-hundred cards. One hundred cards that they would need to hunt through at least forty different sets. They would also need to specifically find the foil only of the basic lands. Even more, I gave them an hour of time to pick the order. An hour, while definitely not a lot of time, is more than enough to grab this order. When I get there, it was one of the two guys that had reinforced the new method of ordering. Even better, he was swamped. He hadn’t even started my order. I would have loved to give him the four to five hours that I normally would give, but it was store policy that I stop calling in advance, and just order, pay, and show up. So I wait. I asked if they started my order, he quickly responded with “yes… I am getting to it”. I think that even he knew that this would have been much easier if I had called four hours in advance like I normally would. This may be strange to say, but I was very happy that there were four cards that were not available for the order. So I had paid for four cards that I would never see fulfilled.  Do you remember the staff member that was awesome? Yeah, he s

A man gets pulled over at a DUI checkpoint... A man is driving home from a party with his wife and son. They get pulled over at a DUI checkpoint and the policeman gives the man the breathalizer test. The machine beeps and the policeman asks the man to step out of the car. "Bullshit!", he exclaims in response. "I haven't had a single drop! The machine is obviously broken, test it on my wife!" The policeman reluctantly agrees as the man does not seem intoxicated. As the wife is blowing into the breathalizer, it beeps again and shows that she is drunk as well. "See? It doesn't work! You can even test my 4-year-old son!" So the 4-year-old kid takes the breathalizer test and whaddaya know, it says he's drunk as well. "As I said it's broken, you should get it checked." The policeman is left puzzled, he apologises and lets the man on his way. As they start driving along again, the man turns to his wife and says: "You see that? I told you it won't hurt to give the kid a taste."

Of course I'll email your team Many years back I was working in an office for a company in one of their satellite sites. In general, for your day to day, you only needed to use one system as it did everything that you technically needed. But it didn't do everything you actually needed. Now I was an older employee and was there before the new shiny bespoke software got rolled out, which meant I had login details for the old system which was still the backbone of half of our head office work and fed into what we saw. This was really useful as it meant I could login and access loads of information that we actually needed, information that some faceless exec had decided to exclude from the new system. So for the next three or four years and I would log in every couple of days and download a report or two, giving us buying reports, stocking issues, and more, that I could then share with the rest of our site. It wasn't confidential information, and while we could do without it, it definitely made life easier having it. Think of it as the difference between getting a drink in the middle of the night with the lights off... But it's a damn sight easier with the lights on. Anyway, we'd never had an issue and no one had complained, until one day one of the department managers found out I was downloading reports from a system that she was adamant that only her team needed to use and she contacted IT and had them revoke my access. And annoyingly, she did so without letting me know, which meant when I logged in the next time... Well, I didn't and just got an error message. Locally we had no idea what had happened, so a quick email to IT and got told that Karen had had my access blocked. So, then it's a quick email to Karen to find out why and all I got was a short and curt "you don't need access, if you need to know something you ask my team.". I figure there's two reasons for this, one being she's a power hungry pain in the arse that likes to control people, and two is she'd been trying to expand her team and I guess if you make 20 satellite stores run through her then you create the workload you need to take on two or three more people so you can give your best friend flexible working hours... Allegedly. Oh... three reasons actually, she really hated me after I called her out once and humiliated her in front of the company directors, to which she lodged a complaint to HR demanding I be fired, only for the CEO to tell them to withdraw it as I hadn't done anything wrong after I named him as a witness to the event. So.. malicious compliance time. Those reports I downloaded, granted it was only two or three reports, and only two or three times a week, which doesn't seem like a big amount, but those reports helped resolve 50 plus complaints and enquiries per day. So now, I guess we have to email her team each time. I told the rest of my team to run every query through me and I would email her team. One, because I didn't want anyone else to get in trouble as I knew this was going to make her explode. Two, because I could field the queries to make sure each one was unique as we did get duplicate info requests and if they've told me once I didn't want to upset them by making them tell me twice. And thirdly, because I'm a dick, I wanted her to know it was me. She managed a week. By day three she had contacted my manager to complain, and by day five (because I hadn't stopped, we still needed questions answered) she had a meeting with HR and I got a "cease and desist" request, asking if I could send a single email at the end of each day with all the queries in. It turns out, if you email six people up to 50 emails a day, at some point someone misses an important invoice and a whole shipment gets delayed, or worse, gets cancelled. The upside... Within a couple of months, her team was "restructured", with different members being given regional coverage. Turns out, the reason her team looked so busy is because they would count one job done by one person as being six jobs, one for each person because they were all included in the same emails. Turns out you don't need a bigger team if you're honest about the work they do. And secondly, the reports I downloaded, each person in her team now has to download them themselves twice a week and send them out to the stores in their region. The other stores had just decided that now they couldn't find out, there was no reason to know, and answered queries with "I don't know" for years, so we accidentally made their services better too.

Hitler wasn't a very athletic man. He never even finished a single race.

All the single ladles Joe invited his mother over for dinner one night. During the course of said dinner his mother couldn't help but notice the staggering beauty of Joe's roommate. She had been long suspicious of a relationship between them, and her beauty combined with the banter she had seen them share only made her all the more curious. Joe noticed his mother's suspicion. "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you that Julie and I are just roommates." A week later, Julie came to Joe and said, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I can't seem to find the gravy ladle. You don't suppose she took it on accident, do you?" Joe agreed that it was a reasonable possibility, and wrote a letter to his mother inquiring about the ladle. It read, "I'm not saying you 'did' take the ladle, nor am I saying you 'did not' take the ladle,' but the fact is it's been missing since you came to dinner last week." Several weeks later, a reply came. "I'm not saying you 'do' sleep with Julie, nor am I saying you 'do not' sleep with Julie. The fact is if she was sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the ladle by now."

The Irishman's parking space An Irishman is trying to find a parking space outside his local pub on a busy evening, but cannot find a single one. He looks skyward and says, "Lord, if you grant me this space, I'll come to Church every Sunday like a good Catholic should." Low and behold, a space opens up right in front of him at which time, he looks skyward again and says, "Never mind, I found one."