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tell us some weird work stories
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<blockquote data-quote="pigless in VA" data-source="post: 709844" data-attributes="member: 11832"><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/Graemlins/916wildone.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":916wildone:" title="scream :916wildone:" data-shortname=":916wildone:" />That was some quick thinking, Susie. I would have been too stunned to pick up the camera. </p><p></p><p>We had some nudity issues at the lab, but they were internal. We had one woman who like to strip completely naked and waltz around the ladies' room. I have no idea why she felt the need to do this at work. </p><p></p><p>Then there was Robert. He was a sweet man, but I think he was on the autism spectrum. He loved to go out "running" at lunchtime, but it was really more of a speedwalk. One day he was caught "jogging" on the traintrack right in front of a slow moving train. He got really hot on his jaunts and would return to work and take one of the box fans into his cubicle. One day he decided he would cool off better if he weren't wearing any pants. The trouble was, that I had the cubicle next to him, and since I was checking his work, I often had to come around the partition to return it to him. The first couple of times I told him it was inappropriate (at least he was wearing his underwear). I knew better than to report it to the supervisor, because they didn't handle personnel issues well. Finally, after many times of being nice and getting nowhere, I yelled over the partition, "Robert! If I come around this wall one more time and find your pants down around your ankles, I'm filing a sexual harassment suit!" </p><p></p><p>That worked wonders for me, but ruined the men's room for every single guy on our floor. Robert decided to go to the men's room, strip naked, and take an entire sponge bath in the sink. After about a month, the men's room on our floor was his personal restroom. </p><p></p><p>The apple story is a current one. One of the kids that I work with has "issues." (his word) He cannot stand the number 10 (the number I don't like), apples or pencil points. Every time someone says the word "apple," he says "ewww." Every time someone says the word "ten or tin" he says, "eleven." Pencils pointing at him freak him out, and he demands that they be redirected. He often hides the pencils in the room in strange places. On the surface, this doesn't seem to be a big deal, but you would be surprised at how often apples and the number 10, much less pencils, crop up in a school setting. If there is a math test and apples are in a word problem, he will demand that we skip the question rather than hear me say the word "apple." Yesterday, he got freaked out, because one of the boys was holding an <strong>empty</strong> cupped hand in the air. The phobic child said he was holding an invisible apple. </p><p></p><p>We were talking about tenements in social studies. Every time the teacher said the word "tenement" he would say, "eleven." I told him that "elevenment" was too hard to say.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="pigless in VA, post: 709844, member: 11832"] :916wildone:That was some quick thinking, Susie. I would have been too stunned to pick up the camera. We had some nudity issues at the lab, but they were internal. We had one woman who like to strip completely naked and waltz around the ladies' room. I have no idea why she felt the need to do this at work. Then there was Robert. He was a sweet man, but I think he was on the autism spectrum. He loved to go out "running" at lunchtime, but it was really more of a speedwalk. One day he was caught "jogging" on the traintrack right in front of a slow moving train. He got really hot on his jaunts and would return to work and take one of the box fans into his cubicle. One day he decided he would cool off better if he weren't wearing any pants. The trouble was, that I had the cubicle next to him, and since I was checking his work, I often had to come around the partition to return it to him. The first couple of times I told him it was inappropriate (at least he was wearing his underwear). I knew better than to report it to the supervisor, because they didn't handle personnel issues well. Finally, after many times of being nice and getting nowhere, I yelled over the partition, "Robert! If I come around this wall one more time and find your pants down around your ankles, I'm filing a sexual harassment suit!" That worked wonders for me, but ruined the men's room for every single guy on our floor. Robert decided to go to the men's room, strip naked, and take an entire sponge bath in the sink. After about a month, the men's room on our floor was his personal restroom. The apple story is a current one. One of the kids that I work with has "issues." (his word) He cannot stand the number 10 (the number I don't like), apples or pencil points. Every time someone says the word "apple," he says "ewww." Every time someone says the word "ten or tin" he says, "eleven." Pencils pointing at him freak him out, and he demands that they be redirected. He often hides the pencils in the room in strange places. On the surface, this doesn't seem to be a big deal, but you would be surprised at how often apples and the number 10, much less pencils, crop up in a school setting. If there is a math test and apples are in a word problem, he will demand that we skip the question rather than hear me say the word "apple." Yesterday, he got freaked out, because one of the boys was holding an [B]empty[/B] cupped hand in the air. The phobic child said he was holding an invisible apple. We were talking about tenements in social studies. Every time the teacher said the word "tenement" he would say, "eleven." I told him that "elevenment" was too hard to say. [/QUOTE]
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