Jami, the Coworkers and the Email

a random memory Several years ago, I worked in the engineering department of a software company. One of my coworkers was a young, just-out-of-college, single guy, Ameet. Once a week, Ameet and a group of his friends played some basketball, just friendly pick up games, you know? But on those days, they'd email smack talk back around to each other, and sometimes we'd hear Ameet chuckling and then furiously typing. I don't know where Ameet had his personal email account, but some of them, like Hotmail, limit the number of emails you can send in one day, trying to cut back on spammers. Ameet had exceeded his personal limit for that day, and had to start smack talking from his business account. You might see where this is going. A few minutes after Ameet sent an email along the lines of "Say that to my face and I'll slap you like the b**ch you are" he got an email from a guy in our marketing department. Not your stereotypical outgoing marketing guy, but a shy, quiet guy who worked there for two years and I couldn't even tell you if he was married. The email said "Ameet - I don't think this email is for me. Bob" Yup. Ameet's work email had that auto-complete, so when he typed Bob, it just assumed he meant Bob at work, not Bob who apparently is a little b**ch. In case you are wondering, yes, people of Indian descent can indeed blush. Neither of them ever mentioned it again. Of course the rest of us did. Some days I do miss working.