With most of the guys I worked with, acceptance into their circle was indicated if they would pull a practical joke on you.  Many times I would walk into a shop and people would ask me for a joke.  I guess my reputation for telling stories preceded me.

For instance, in one shop where I worked, one of the office personnel in the drafting room was a man that, though young, was only able to get around with a walker.  He was no exception to having practical jokes played upon him.

I am all for employing people with disabilities.  It’s tough enough to get and keep a job without also having to fight a disability.  I believe that the young man (I’ll call him “Bob” – because I don’t remember his name anymore) appreciated that he was included.

“Bob” was working in a drafting room with about four other estimators and drafters.  I tried to avoid going in that room because you never knew what they were going to pull on you.  One day when I did go into the drafting room, one of the guys said: “Adrian, you should have been here about a half hour ago.”

I asked, “Why, what happened?”

He said; “Well, I was arguing with ‘Bob’ and he was being stubborn., so I walked across to his desk like this, and took his walker like this, and walked back across the room like this, opened the window like this, and threw his walker outside like this, and closed the window like this.”  All the while he was talking, he was demonstrating the process as he explained it.  (Usually that’s a good training method.)

After they had a good laugh and talked awhile, he went outside and retrieved the walker and returned it to “Bob’s” desk.

Those same guys knew that I was raising chickens at home.  They asked me to bring in a little bit of chicken manure.  I was suspicious about what they were planning.  (Maybe they were planning to do something to me?)

It turns out they had bigger fish to fry.  The big boss had a separate office with a window where he looked out at these estimators and drafters.  He had a picture in his office of a duck taking flight.  They intended to place the chicken dropping on the floor under the tail end of the duck.

I brought them a little box of chicken dung, making sure I left no fingerprints or other “crime scene evidence” on it.

I never knew how their plan turned out.

I was afraid to ask.