Thread for when you’ve made involuntary in appropriate responses.
I’ll kick us off.
I moved to Glasgow from Aberdeen after basically spending months and months begging with my company to do an internal transfer. After HR got involved, they moved me, and I met my new boss the same day I started. He seemed nice enough, but for the first few months I knew he’d been forced to take me on, and likely had other folk he’d have rathered either given the work to, or evne hired in short term to do what I was doing.
He was supportive to an extent, but those first few months were tough. This led up to the christmas night out. The team organising it picked a good place in town, but the isse was that when we got there instead of the long singular table we’d expected, they put us in three booths of six, so we had to divvy up. I got plumped with this boss, his other two sub-heads, and a pal of mine. I thought that this was good, because they’d likely buy booze all night for us - and they did.
Towards the end of the meal, and I forget how it came up, he started telling this story of a friend, one of his best friends. He had been feeling unwell and gone to the doctor to find out they had a tumour in their lung, and they needed to get it removed (I’m abbreviating here, but that’s the gist). So the guy decides to go under the knife to remove part or all of the lung. So he goes in for the operation, and is ready to be made better.
But comes out and the doctor wakes him and explains there had been a mistake, and they had removed the healthy lung not the cancerous one, and now he was going to die.
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh, turned it into a cough, and then the absurdity of it all caught me and I went into full rolling hysterical giggling. I managed to mumble out “oh shit, I am so sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but… i am sorry” or something, but the rest of the table were horrified.
He finished the story whilst I was stiffling laughter - his friend died a few months after that. When it came time to go home, we parted ways at the bar - I went to get the train back home.
Turns out he was getting the same train. To the same station. And that he lived less than five minutes from my house. I had to endure small chat about everything and anything mere minutes after laughing in his face that one of his best friends had died.
I felt awful for years afterwards. I told him how sorry I was for weeks and weeks afterwards, and tried to explain it away, but I struggled.
When I ended up being made redundant, I had to go back to get a reference from him in person. As I was leaving, he shook my hand, and Columbo’d the fuck out of me - he said “Oh, by the way, don’t laugh at stories of your new bosses friends dying, you can have that advice for free” and smiled, waved, and closed the door.