Ridiculous and crazy work stories #1
It’s hard to believe the poor behavior that surfaces in companies—and even harder to believe how much of it is tolerated. In this series, I’ll share the crazy, ridiculous, and downright absurd workplace stories I’ve experienced or collected over the years, starting with one of my own: The Seatbelt.
At a large educational institution run by its founder for more than 40 years, the CEO was in charge of everything. And I mean everything—right down to reviewing Glassdoor responses drafted by the communications team. This was the kind of CEO people quietly warned each other about. Staff would call neighboring offices to say, “He’s making the rounds,” his version of impromptu reinforcement: unannounced drop-ins to ensure departments were operating exactly as he expected.
Newer employees, including senior executives, were often caught off guard by his personal style. Long-timers, on the other hand, joked about it. “It’s just his way,” they’d say. No one actually liked him, but he had started the company, so he was granted a kind of lifetime license to behave however he pleased. Speaking up was not an option—you were quickly and publicly shamed.
In all my years there, I never saw a single leadership training, interpersonal communication workshop, or employee-centered management program. This, at an institution dedicated to helping young people communicate.
The fear he instilled ran so deep that a short drive to lunch became one of the most ridiculous workplace stories I’ve ever heard.
My department chief was driving the CEO to a restaurant two miles away, where they were meeting board members for a leisurely lunch. When they arrived, the CEO tried to unbuckle his seatbelt—and couldn’t. He grew agitated, yanking at it.
“Get me out of here!” he yelled.
As the CEO’s anger escalated, the Chief leaned over to help. He couldn’t release it either. Panic set in. Thinking skills deteriorated rapidly. The CEO continued tugging and bellowing while the Chief bolted into the restaurant to find a pair of scissors.
He returned, cut the seatbelt, and freed the CEO—who exited the car and walked into the restaurant, annoyed that he’d been subjected to such an ordeal.
Once the adrenaline wore off, the Chief looked at his now-destroyed seatbelt and thought about the cost to repair it (not cheap). And once he fully regained his composure, he realized something else: the CEO had been trying to unbuckle the seatbelt from the anchor side—not the buckle.
In the chaos, both of them had been working furiously on the wrong end. The buckle itself worked perfectly fine.
And that, friends, became known as The Seatbelt.
It’s a cautionary tale about what happens when someone else’s anger rattles you. Because once that happens, you don’t just inherit their stress—you inherit their mistakes.