Stupid Stuff I’ve Done, at Work and Elsewhere – Part 4

And now, on to the big fish.  As you can imagine, ten years is a long time to collect stupid stories, especially for someone like me, who cannot seem to avoid doing stupid things.

For this entry, I am thinking I will try to make it more of a point form list.  That’s tough for me, because I tend to go on and on, but I’ll do my best to try to keep it to the point.  And no, they will not be in chronological order, because I’m not that awesome.

  • The other day I tried to print a report and I pushed one wrong button and printed over 200 pages of information that I did not need.
  • A few years ago, on the same day I got my bonus, I was driving down the road with the kids in the car and my exhaust system broke from the catalytic converter all the way back, so the pipe was laying on the ground.  I had to get a tow truck to take me to a muffler shop, and spent four hours and my entire bonus replacing everything.
  • Another time, the same car died while I was on the way to work and wouldn’t start again. I believe it was either the battery or the alternator, for the second or third time.  I called my supervisor crying my eyes out because I wasn’t going to be able to make it into work, and then I called my mom and cried to her because I was broke and couldn’t afford any of it.  She told me “Shit Happens”, and it was the first time I ever heard her say it when it actually made sense.  After that, I didn’t cry when shit like that happened.  Life will go on.
  • One day, I got out early by 45 minutes, made it around the corner, and promptly rear-ended someone, causing $800 in damage to the front of same 1991 Honda Civic, as well as about $1200 in damage to the other person.  If I had just finished my entire shift, this probably could’ve been avoided.
  • One day I got an oil change on this beloved old beater right before work, and that night after work I was driving home on the QEW up one side of a small bridge when the hood suddenly flew up and smashed the windshield.  It stayed in that position, and I had to turn my head sideways and peek through the 2-inch crack between the car and the bottom of the hood in order to make it over the bridge and pull over on the shoulder without dying.  I got out of the car to examine the damage and was obviously pretty shaken up and full of adrenaline, when a cop stopped by to ask if I was okay.  I said, “NO I AM NOT OKAY, I ALMOST DIED!” He got me a tow truck home to Crystal Beach. Super fun times, also another $500 for a replacement hood and I made the oil change place cover the damage to the windshield because they did not properly close the hood when they finished working on the car.
  • The final straw with that vehicle was one day when I was driving home in the early morning hours after working a midnight shift on a rural road and a deer ran out in front of me. I slammed on my brakes and attempted to swerve around it, and my car scooped it up onto the hood.  It ran across the road and disappeared, and I decided that if the car was still able to drive I would at least try and make it home, and by the time I got there the radiator was leaking everywhere and the front end was smoking.  The hood (my second hood) was smashed beyond repair from the impact of the deer.  I have pictures of it which I will probably dig up and add to this post.  I sold the car for $200 to a man who was so tall that when he got into the car, it looked like he was a giant.  It looked like one of those clown cars where like 15 Ringling Brothers all pile themselves into it inexplicably.  I have no idea how he got into the car.  I watched him take it for a test drive (somehow it miraculously decided to start for him), and I was so jealous watching him rip around in my little go-kart that I debated not selling it to him.
  • My mother and I bought this car for $1200 after test-driving it around a parking lot.  Later on when we went back to pick it up and drive it home, we had barely made it onto the road when the muffler broke away from the exhaust and the car sounded like a fucking jet was landing.  This is an excellent example of why we should at least bring a guy with us when we go car-shopping.
  • One morning I showed up for work at 7am, extremely hungover and running on next-to-no sleep, only to discover that I was actually off that day so I had woken up at 5am for nothing.  I turned around and went home to go to bed, and nobody in the office has ever let me live that down.
  • Last week, my fiance and I came to work early to have breakfast together, so we were dressed in our regular clothes.  I went into the change room to change into my “business casual” outfit, only to discover that I was missing the black tank top I had packed.  The one I was wearing had big colorful letters that said something like “Don’t Quit” or “Don’t Give Up”.  I had about fifteen minutes before I had to start my shift, so I ran up to my car and checked the trunk to see if it had maybe fallen out when I was grabbing my backpack.  It was not there. Luckily, we have a clothing store on-site, so I ran over there to buy a plain black tank top.  The only ones they had in stock were extra small, and I am definitely a large.  I ended up grabbing a black t-shirt and paying for it, running into their change room and putting it on before leaving the store, and running all the way down to my pre-shift in the nick of time.  By the time I got there, between the rush and the humidity, I was sweating profusely.  Everyone asked why, and I was attempting to explain, and tried to pull out the tank top I’d been wearing to show them how stupid I would’ve looked, and instead pulled out the black tank top I had originally been looking for.  Even though I’d searched my backpack three times before giving up, it mysteriously appeared when I no longer needed it.
  • One day I was on my way to the smoking area on my break, and there was a little table set up to promote emergency preparedness, and a very good-looking security officer was giving out these big red bags for us to put all of our emergency stuff in at home.  I looked like total garbage that day.  He asked me to take a picture with the bag because were in some sort of competition, and then offered to let me hold their full bag rather than my empty one.  I posed for the picture and was so flustered that I took off right away to have a smoke.  It was only when another associate asked me how much I had to pay for that bag, that I realized I had accidentally swiped the prop bag full of stuff, so I had to go back there and give it back to him.  So stupid.
  • Last April I decided to start training for the 5km race in the Niagara Falls International Marathon, which I have run every year for the past 3 years.  Our company sponsors us to participate, and I really wanted to knock it out of the park. I had been going strong for a few weeks by this point, and lost 6lbs.  Trevor and I were jogging down the sidewalk in the middle of the day, and I had the dog on a leash so he was running just in front of me.  There was one single small round pine cone on the sidewalk, and somehow my foot found it. This is the kind of pine cone that is hard and unforgiving.  My ankle literally just went “Nope!” and I fell to the sidewalk like a pile of bricks.  And it wasn’t the nicely paved part of the sidewalk, either; it was the kind that is all rough and jagged.  I scraped up my left knee and leg pretty bad and I couldn’t walk on my right foot at all, so I sat down on the grass and waited while Trev ran all the way home and got the car and came back to pick me up.  We went to the hospital where they offered me no ice, no disinfectant, no bandages, nothing.  We sat there for about two hours before I was told it was a “bad sprain” and to go home and rest.  My ankle has never been the same, and it took me 9 months to really trust myself with it.  I ended up running in the marathon, but I did very poorly compared to how well I would’ve done if I had not discovered that pine cone.
  • I am notorious with my friends and family for sending them random, unsolicited pictures of myself on the toilet.  If I scroll through my camera roll, I would say there are probably 20-30 adorable pictures of me on the toilet.  Everyone pretends they don’t want them, but I know deep down they really do.
  • A few months ago, I was working as a supervisor alongside another one of our mentors.  She had gone on break and I was sitting at my desk chilling when I realized that I had to fart.  I decided I would try to let it out slowly so that it wouldn’t make any noise. Little did I know that this was to be my first encounter with the elusive shart.  I had never sharted before, but I immediately knew something was wrong.  I handed the phone to another dual and took off to the washroom.  I had sharted into my thong.  I took it off and threw it in the garbage, cleaned myself up and then went back to my seat to await the other supervisor’s return from her break.  When she came back I had to explain to her that I had shit my pants.  I decided to start the conversation with, “So, I was wearing a thong.” She discreetly offered me some baby wipes which I gratefully accepted.  Just when you think you’re doing okay, something like that happens to bring you right back down a couple notches to where you belong. I ran around and told everyone and we had a good laugh at my expense. I finished my shift (obviously clean and fresh-smelling, or I would’ve gone home) and went home to shower.

I think that’s a good-sized list for now, but believe it or not, I probably have a few more up my sleeve.  And I believe I now have a new motto, “Shart Happens.”

– C


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