"I just stared for a moment in disbelief as the room laughed their asses off."

"One of my first tasks was to replace a light fixture. I did a perfect job removing the old one and installing the new one, but I couldn't get it to turn on! I checked the switch, I checked the fuse box, and I checked the power to outlets around the area... The boss took one look at it and let me know that I hadn't put a bulb in the damn thing."

"I tried starting it, but the oil would stream out of the air filter box. I found a small hole in the bottom where the leak was. It either failed there or… it looks like some idiot tried to drill a hole in the bottom of the air filter box.

Anyway, I plugged the hole with super glue, and then the thing wouldn’t start at all. The air filter was all oily. Nothing made sense. I YouTubed the issue, which seemingly didn’t exist, for an hour. Why wasn’t anyone else experiencing this? 

Turns out vehicles take a finite amount of oil; you don’t just fill them to the top. The overflow hole was in… the air filter box. I plugged their idiot-proof backup plan for when a freaking dumbass fills the oil too far. And I thwarted them! I’m dumber than they thought!"

"I did find out about fire pistons and knew cars had spark plugs. Why the hell did they need spark plugs if you can ignite things with a piston under pressure? Being 18 and cocky, I obviously did no research on this whatsoever. 

So I went to the head of my department, who I often had little chats with. I very excitedly told him that I thought spark plugs probably weren't necessary, and we could just design cars that start the engine with one forcible plunge to ignite the first bit of fuel and proceed from there. He sat back in his big chair with his arms above his head, grinning. He let me finish my whole pitch. When I finished, he said simply, 'I think a man named Rudolf Diesel had a similar idea one hundred years ago'."

"I had the receipt in my hand, and I put on my coat, then the receipt was just gone. I couldn’t find it. I went through everything: my car, the house; I was freaking out. I finally just went to the store with the item, and the lady was so nice. She was able to look up my credit card information and give me a refund that way, but I was still so mad and befuddled about what happened to the receipt. When I finally got home and took off my coat, the damn thing was stuck in the sleeve."

"My colleagues wanted to order lunch from a pretty pricey sushi place that had just opened a new location right down the street. I’m normally pretty cheap, but I decided to splurge because it was a new place and I hadn’t ordered lunch in a while. I volunteered to call the order in and pick it up because I was in a good mood. I proceeded to place like a $240 order. They said 45 minutes to pick up, and I said okay.

I head over in 45 minutes, and there is no order ready. The lady at the front desk was confused and said they did not have an order under my name. I busted out my phone to show them my call log to prove what time I called. I show her the call. She informs me that I’m a fucking idiot who placed the order at one of their other locations, like an hour and a half away. So I pay out of pocket to re-order the full $240 worth of orders for everyone so they wouldn’t kill me.

Guess who spent several hours that evening picking up $240 worth of cold ass sushi and serving it to my family for dinner for several days? This fucking idiot, that’s who."