My secretary liked to yammer on the phone with friends.
One day I was about to interrupt her chat to tell her to get back to work, when she looked up at the clock and put an end to the conversation.
“Sorry, I have to hang up now,” she said. “It’s time for my break.”
My friend had been pounding the pavement in search of a job with no luck. Frustrated, she asked her dad to look at her résumé. He didn’t get much further than the first line of her cover letter before spotting the problem.
“Is it too generic?” she asked.
“I doubt it,” said her father. “Especially since it’s addressed ‘Dear Sir or Madman.’”
- You've already read the entire Dilbert page-a-day calendar for the year.
- You discover that staring at your cubicle wall long enough produces images of Elvis.
- You've figured out a way to get Gilligan off the island.
- You decide to see how many Mountain Dews you can drink before the inevitable explosion occurs.
- People come into your office only to borrow pencils from your ceiling.
- No longer content with merely photocopying your rear, you now scan and enhance it with Photoshop.
- You now require only a single can of cola to belch the names of all seven Dwarfs.
- The 4th Division of Paperclips has overrun the Pushpin Infantry, and General White-Out has called for reinforcements.
On my first day working at the gas station, I watched a senior co-worker measure the level of gasoline in the under-ground tanks by lowering a giant measuring stick down into them.
"What would happen if I threw a lit match into the hole?" I joked.
"It would go out," he replied very matter-of-factly.
"Really?" I asked, surprised to hear that. "Is there a lack of oxygen down there or some safety device that would extinguish it before the fumes ignited?"
"No," my co-worker continued. "The force from the explosion would blow out the match."