I walk into the copyroom, holding roughly a ream of forms that had suddenly become useless. Odd how often that happens.

The vice president – the vice president, mind you – is kneeling in front of the shredder, changing out the waste bag. Never mind that the bag he was taking out was still empty – I had changed it myself fifteen minutes ago.

Me: “Jim, I just changed that. It’s empty.”
VP: “Right, but that was a transparent bag. Someone might read sensitive information through it.”

I let it go at that point. I didn’t feel like explaining what a shredder does.