I accidentally scraped a car in the parking lot while trying to squeeze into a tight space. Before I could even get out to assess the damage, my boss came sprinting out of the building, his face flushed with rage.

“Who hit my car?!” he bellowed, loud enough for half the office to hear.

Embarrassed and already feeling awful, I raised my hand. “It was me. I’m so sorry. I’ll cover the repairs, of course.”

But instead of calming down, he doubled down. He launched into a full-blown lecture about responsibility, how careless people cost companies money, and how he couldn’t believe employees these days had no respect for other people’s property.

I stood there, mortified, while a few coworkers gathered nearby to watch the spectacle. That’s when my colleague Jenna strolled past with her coffee, eyebrows raised. She glanced at the dented bumper and then back at him.

“Boss,” she said with perfect timing, “isn’t this the same company car you scratched last week backing out of the loading bay?”

You could have heard a pin drop. His face went beet red as everyone turned to look at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and stormed back inside without another word.

Let’s just say, after that day, his lectures about “responsibility” got a whole lot quieter.