Picture this: you stroll into the office, clock in, and you’re greeted by the unmistakable echo of a coworker’s footsteps—slow, deliberate, like a grandpa walking to the kitchen for his morning coffee. You politely ask if you can help him with a task, and instead of a helpful “Sure thing!” you get a full‑blown life‑lesson on appreciation. Cue the dramatic “I didn’t know that” moment.

Here’s the link to the original post I made:

https://www.reddit.com/r/coworkerstories/s/nS51ZF1C0F

So I followed some helpful advice from those in that post. Here’s how it went: I got to work, clocked in and I noticed that coworker head into the office and I followed shortly after. After settling in, I asked him very politely and genuinely what is it that I can help him with because I do see him not grasping certain instructions/tasks I give him.

Well… instead of him answering the question, he pretty much did a 180 degree and told me that he feels I’m not very appreciative of him being there. I was slightly confused because I had no idea to what he was referring to. He went on to explain that I didn’t thank him on completing a task and I should have stayed behind to acknowledge it. He also explained that he told my boss how I belittle him at work and every time we talk on the radio, I sound frustrated and upset with him. He said I’m not the best shift lead he’s worked with because I have some tweaks I need to fix myself. To finish up his statement, he ended it with and I quote “when you get as old as I am like in 35‑40+ years, you’ll learn to understand to be appreciative and have more logic.”

I stood my ground and explained (literally in parts to break down his conversation in front of him) that I for one have not belittled him on the radio and I have coworkers to prove that. Then I said “as to the way I speak on the radio, that impression you’re getting of me is not towards you. Our radios suck and you know it.”

Moving forward to the topic of him feeling not appreciated by me, I had to explain I always say “thank you” and “please.” I continued to say “if you’re looking for me to praise you constantly or hold your hand saying you did a great job, unfortunately I don’t do that and that’s just how my personality is. I am not here to change you and you aren’t here to change me. If I see you doing a well enough job, that means I’m not constantly on you correcting things… simple as that. I’ve done my duty in training you, making sure you’re doing things properly and correctly, and to answer any questions you may have. However it seems you’re taking my instructions or the way I speak as belittling which is not accurate at all. Otherwise, I’m here to punch in, do my job correctly, efficiently, and safely and punch out.”

He stayed quiet and he was trying to go around the bush saying he doesn’t like me but I finished the sentence for him. We both acknowledged we’re not each other’s cup of tea but we tolerate each other just to work well enough. So that’s the tea if anyone was curious to know. Sorry for the long story.

Ever find yourself staring at a sticky note that reads “Soon.” in the break room, wondering if it’s a new office meme or a secret countdown to the apocalypse? That was our daily mystery for months. The notes were short, cryptic, and oddly specific:

• “Soon.”
• “It begins.”
• “They don’t know yet.”
• “Thursday.” (written on a Monday)
• “Almost ready.”

We all started playing office detective. Coffee became a crime scene, and the copier was the new “forensic lab.” We drafted theories, whispered conspiracies, and even accused each other. Our boss, who had never once read a sticky note, looked perplexed every time a new one appeared.

Then, one fateful Friday, the camera caught the culprit in the act. It was… Harold. Harold was the kind of guy who brings homemade cookies, never complains, and is the reason the office fridge is always stocked with snacks. At 63, he was the unofficial “gentleman of the break room.” HR called him in because the notes were “confusing” and possibly “cultish.” Harold just smiled and said, “I was testing different pens.”

HR: “What about the messages?”
Harold: “Oh, I just wrote whatever came to mind. I didn’t think anyone would read them.”
HR: “We thought you were starting a cult.”
Harold (shrugging): “My favorite was the one that said ‘Brace yourself.’”

The best part? Harold was immediately banned from using sticky notes without supervision. The break room is now a no‑note zone. The only cryptic message left is the sticky note on the office door that reads, “Please do not leave sticky notes.” (It was left by Harold himself. He’s a legend.)

TL;DR: The office’s mysterious sticky note cult was led by the cookie‑bringer Harold who just tested pens. He got the sticky note ban, and the office lives on, now with fewer sticky notes and more cookies.

Ever watched a dramatic survival film and thought, “Surely if I do this, I’ll survive!”? The silver screen loves to sprinkle a few handy “survival hacks” that, when taken out of context, could do you more harm than good. Let’s dissect the most lethal of these myths—no capes, just pure, unadulterated danger.

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The myth:
Wearing black at night makes you invisible to predators, enemies, or even rescuers.
Reality:
Black is the absence of light. In low‑light conditions, it turns you into a silhouette, screaming “look at me!” to anyone with a flashlight or camera.

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The comments (because Reddit loves to throw in a side‑story or two)​

The Beach Romance Myth
Everyone loves the idea of a steamy, sun‑kissed beach rendezvous—think salty breeze, sand between your toes, and a sunset that could make a heart skip a beat. But reality? Sand can be a full‑time abrasive, hot tubs might be filled with more chemicals than your favorite playlist, and the whole “sex on the beach” fantasy is often a slippery slope into awkwardness and, yes, perimenopause.

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Ever wish adult life was a video game where you could just pull a cheat code and everything would magically work out? We’re all on the same quest—except some of us have discovered the cheat codes before the level‑up. Below are the top “adult cheat codes” that Reddit users swear by. Grab your controller (or your phone) and start hacking your way to a smoother existence.

1. The “Back‑Speak” Anti‑Cheat​

Cheat Code: Avoid the “Spokesperson of Evil”

If someone is a master of behind‑the‑back gossip, you can safely assume they’ll do the same to you. Think of it as a negative health bar: the more they talk, the more your trust depletes. Stay away and keep your life glitch‑free.

2. The “Positive Whisper” Power‑Up​

Cheat Code: Say Nice Things Behind Their Back

This isn’t a passive skill; it’s an active one. Drop a compliment in someone’s ear while they’re not looking. It’s like a stealth mode boost—people notice the good vibes and start seeing you as the hero of the day.

3. The “Sleep‑Solve” Reset​

Cheat Code: Hit the Bed Instead of the Brain

Stuck on a code, an equation, or a life‑changing decision? Just press pause and hit snooze. The subconscious does the heavy lifting while you’re out in dream‑land, and you wake up with the solution in hand. Works for coding, music practice, and even figuring out the perfect pizza topping.

4. The “Gift‑List” Inventory​

Cheat Code: Keep a Secret Notes Folder

Every time your partner mentions a desire—“I wish I had a new mug,” “I love those headphones”—add it to a hidden notes document. By the time Christmas rolls around, you’ll have a ready‑made loot list and won’t have to scramble for last‑minute gifts.

5. The “Sale‑Sneak” Stealth Mode​

Cheat Code: Buy on Sale, Hide in Plain Sight

If you spot a deal you love, grab it while it’s still cheap. Then stash it somewhere nobody will notice—your closet, a drawer, or even the back of a book. That way you can enjoy the spoils without the guilt of “I should’ve saved more.”

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It turns out that the world’s biggest marketing machine is running on a human workforce, not on the very AI tools they’re supposed to be selling. Picture this: every brand from the big‑box grocers to the quirky indie startups is now putting an AI‑generated video on their website, hoping to impress their customers with “futuristic” content. But when it comes to the companies that actually build the AI, they’re still stuck in the old‑school, “let’s hire a creative agency and shoot a commercial” era.

Why? Because the AI that spits out images and videos has one huge flaw: it can’t read a brand guide. A brand guide is that tiny, dusty booklet that tells you exactly which shade of green the logo must be, what the exact placement of the wordmark is, and how many pixels to leave around the logo to make it look good. The AI? It just drops whatever it thinks looks cool onto the screen—sometimes with a misspelled logo or a color that’s more “neon pink” than “Coca‑Cola red.” The result is a marketing masterpiece that looks like a toddler got hold of a Photoshop subscription.

Because of this, most companies that want to use AI in their ads will first let the AI do its thing (generating a generic “wow‑factor” video) and then layer the real, perfectly‑formatted logos on top. That’s how the AI Coca‑Cola commercial last year was made: a slick AI‑generated backdrop, and a team of editors who went on a mission to make the Coke bottle look just right. It’s a bit like using a cheap printer for your wedding photos, then hiring a professional to retouch them.

Even when AI is used for images, the results are usually not ready for the high‑stakes world of marketing. A lot of designers now rely on AI for quick “touch‑ups” or to stretch a small image to fill a billboard, but they’ll still go back to their favorite editing tools to finish the job. The “lazy” approach—just dropping an unedited AI image into a campaign—ends up looking like a billboard for a start‑up that couldn’t afford a professional graphic designer. And that’s the kind of thing that makes people go “uhh… that’s… not great.”

Meanwhile, the AI companies that are supposed to be the trendsetters are stuck marketing themselves the old‑fashioned way. They’re still shooting traditional commercials, hiring copywriters, and investing in the kind of polished storytelling that doesn’t involve a glitchy algorithm. The irony isn’t lost on anyone: the very tools that are supposed to make everything easier are still causing a marketing bottleneck.

In short: the big money companies can afford a real ad and still choose AI for the novelty factor, but the AI companies themselves can’t afford the luxury of an AI‑generated ad because, well… the AI can’t get the branding right. Maybe one day the AI will learn to read brand guides, but until then, we’ll keep watching the irony unfold.

Ever wonder what the Earth feels when a global tragedy wipes out millions of souls? Some think it’s a quiet, lonely planet; others think it’s just a lot of empty seats in the cafeteria. Let’s take a stroll through history to see if the planet actually grew quieter after its biggest bloodbath – World War II – and how that compares to other calamities that left the world oddly still.

From the Harrying of the North to the Potato Famine​

The story starts way back in 1066 when William the Conqueror, fresh off his Norman conquest, decided to Harry the North of England – not the Harry Potter way, but a brutal campaign of oppression and depopulation. The result? A region that still feels a bit thin‑lined today, almost a thousand years later. Think of it as the ancient version of a “no‑go‑zone” for people.

Fast forward a few centuries, and we land in Ireland, where the potato famine turned a thriving nation into a ghost town. The population plummeted from 8 million to 2 million. That’s a 75 % drop in people you might know and a lot of lonely streets. Yet, people still call Ireland a people place – maybe because the survivors were just that good at making the most of a quiet country.

The Black Death, WWII, and a Few Other “How Did We Survive?” Moments​

• The Black Death – Roughly 50 million people vanished, wiping out about half of Europe. That’s a massive empty‑room scenario, but it’s still a smaller percentage than some other historical plagues and wars.
• WWII – About 36–40 million deaths, roughly 3 % of the global population at the time. It’s the biggest conflict in history, but the percentage hit is surprisingly modest compared to the Black Death.
• Three Kingdoms War (220–280 AD, China) – An estimated 18 % of the population died, a higher percentage than WWII but still less than a plague‑driven collapse.

The takeaway? Percentage of deaths and the “feel” of emptiness aren’t always linearly related. A smaller percentage can feel like a larger vacuum if the loss is concentrated in a tight community, while a huge loss spread across continents can feel… well, still.

The Planet’s Quiet? Or Just a Big, Silent Crowd?​

So did Earth feel emptier after WWII? The numbers suggest not as dramatic as the Black Death or a plague, but the cultural impact was huge. We lost millions of lives, saw entire cities turned into husks, and the global psyche was forever changed. Imagine a world where the majority of the population is suddenly gone – that’s a quiet, lonely place. But if you’re looking at the planet as a whole, it’s still bustling, just with a few extra empty chairs.

TL;DR​

• William the Conqueror Harryed northern England, leaving a “thin” region centuries later.
• Ireland’s potato famine cut 75 % of its population, yet it remains a people place.
• The Black Death killed ~50 % of Europe; WWII killed ~3 % worldwide.
• The feel of emptiness doesn’t match the percentage of deaths; it’s all about context and community.

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Picture this: it’s a regular Tuesday in the office, you’re juggling a stack of paperwork, and your colleague—let’s call him the “Snack Whisperer”—drops a line so oddly phrased it could have been a line from a sitcom gone wrong. He says, “You smell edible.” No, not a compliment, not a culinary recommendation, just a strange way of pointing out that you apparently give off the scent of… something edible. The result? A flinch, a step back, and a paper trail that’s probably still in the office.

The Incident
Our heroine (35F) was handing over a set of orders for the warehouse when the Snack Whisperer, 40ish, casually remarks about her “edible” scent. Because she’s a total poker‑face‑sufferer, she reacts instantly—flinch, move back a little, and then just hands over the paperwork. She goes back inside the office, hoping the scent mystery ends there.

Fast forward 30 minutes. The same Snack Whisperer bursts into her office, arms crossed, saying he’s “offended” by her reaction. Apparently he didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, and he’s now convinced that not every man thinks like that. He also added, “Stop overthinking.” He’s basically saying: “You overreacted, and now I’m sorry for my comment.”

Our heroine is left wondering: Did I just get caught in a scent‑based social experiment? Or is this just a weird office drama?

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AITA for refusing to cover a shared cost after my coworker wouldn’t show me the break of what the money had gone towards so far?

I (24F) recently started my first full‑time job after graduating. My company has an optional team social fund where each member of our small department contributes a set amount every month to cover birthday treats, team lunches, and small surprises. It sounded harmless, so I joined when my coworker Liam asked.

He manages the fund and everyone just sends him their contribution directly. Not that I suspected anything but last month, I asked if he could give me a breakdown of what the money had gone towards so far, because I’m trying to be better about tracking my spending. My mom drilled into me that I should always know where my money is going.

He said, “Yeah, I’ll get it to you later.” He didn’t.

A few days later, he didn’t send anything but reminded me that my monthly contribution was due. I asked politely for the breakdown again. No reply. I waited a few days and sent a follow‑up, nothing. He responds to other messages in the work group chat, but mine about the fund get ignored.

Last week he came to my desk and said, “Hey, you still haven’t sent your part for the fund this month.” I told him I’d be happy to once I got the breakdown I’d asked for, nothing complicated, just a list of what’s been purchased with everyone’s contributions.

His whole demeanor shifted. He sighed loudly and said, “Nobody else needs this level of detail. It’s supposed to be casual. You’re making it weird.”

I told him it wasn’t personal, it’s just my budget and my comfort. He walked away mid‑sentence.

Now a couple coworkers have hinted that I’m overthinking everything and making extra work for Liam. One even said I was being stingy for not just paying like everyone else. I’m starting to feel guilty, but it also seems like a basic thing to ask when I’m handing over money every month.

AITA for refusing to contribute again until he shows me what the fund is actually being spent on?

Ever read a story that starts with “I liked my boss” and ends with “…and he was in jail for a year and a half” and then you think it’s a plot twist in a bad romantic comedy? No, folks. This is the real‑life version of a “Where’s Waldo” mystery where the culprit was a mid‑day dose of midazolam and a very, very “inspirational” email.

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The Sweet‑And‑Sour Love Story​

It all began in 2017, when you’re 26 and still figuring out whether you want a career in healthcare or a career in “I’m so excited to start my day!” The head nurse (who we’ll call “Bossy”) is friendly, supportive, and occasionally sends you “You’re doing amazing, keep it up!” emails after hours. Great, right? Until you notice that after each of those pep talks, you’re suddenly as sleepy as a toddler on a Sunday afternoon.

Side note: He’s 50, has a wife, two kids, and a “bipolar” personality that might snap into a “I’m in love with you” phase. Spoiler: it didn’t end well.

You start feeling… well, zoned out at work. Power naps in the break room become a hobby. You forget half your day. You drive home at 3 am and pass out at the wheel. You go to the doctor, get your blood and urine tested, and the verdict is: “Overworked. Get more sleep.” You cut back from 14 to 10 hours, but the blackout episodes keep coming. Your libido drops, sperm count plummets, and your boss’s “inspirational” quotes become the only thing keeping you sane.

Then, one night, you’re left alone in a hotel room in your underwear, wondering how you got there. The next morning you ask a coworker where you stayed, and she says, “You did, and you were driving like a clown.” Cue the panic. You start suspecting something (or someone) is messing with your food.

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The Great Midazolam Conspiracy​

You begin documenting everything. Zipper positions change. Water bottles spill. You notice clear, floating particles in your water. A drug‑testing kit confirms the presence of benzodiazepines—midazolam, folks. You set up a hidden camera in the bathroom and catch the real culprit in the act: Bossy, in a single 7‑second burst, unscrews the bottle lid and injects a syringe full of the sedative into your water. Cue dramatic music.

You call the cops, show the evidence, and the medical director fires him on the spot. Security footage for the last three months shows him sneaking a syringe into lunch, water, and even a “sugar‑free” coffee. The cops arrest him, release him (because apparently he’s a “free citizen”), and a year later he gets a 1½‑year sentence (but only serves 2/3 of it). Freedom. (And a bit of a punchline for the whole thing.)

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The Aftermath​

You’re back to full‑wake‑up, sperm counts are back to normal, and you have two kids. Your boss is out of the picture, your medical director is out of the picture, and your life is almost back to normal. But you’re still dealing with the aftermath: the memory gaps, the potential for assault, the lingering trauma. A few friends suggest suing the clinic, a lawyer says therapy is a must, and you’re left wondering if you should just keep living like this or finally take action.

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TL;DR​

You worked for a head nurse who was a secret midazolam‑spiking, love‑quote‑sending, sexual predator. He got a 1½‑year prison sentence (served 2/3). You’re now back in the world, but you’re still dealing with trauma. Get therapy, consider suing, and maybe start a new career—just make sure nobody’s sneaking syringes into your water again.

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The Comments (Completely Anonymous)​

• Comment 1
  “Suing isn’t about blaming them, or punishing them for what he did. It's about using the money to help fix your health. You deserve that.”

• Comment 2
  “Sue. Your kids could benefit from the money. You were drugged and sexually assaulted. You really just don't want to unpack how big that is. That trauma will rear its ugly head, at the worst time possible, if you don't deal with it now. I'm sorry that happened to you.”

• Comment 3
  “Therapist here. This was/is a significant trauma. Start therapy. Put this first, it will pay dividends for you and your family.”

• Comment 4
  “Noted, thank you and will do.”

• Comment 5
  “Why would you not sue that clinic and medical director so that the same thing can never happen to any other person? Lawyer up and sue the fuck out of that place.”

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And that, dear readers, is the real story of how a love‑letter‑spamming, benzodiazepine‑spiking head nurse turned your life into a plot from a horror‑comedy mash‑up. Stay safe, keep an eye on your water bottle, and never underestimate the power of a well‑timed inspirational quote.