Beat me to it.
“Father, I was late to work today because my wife kept me in bed to get jiggy for a while.”
“My son, that’s not a sin. Why are you telling me?”
“I’m telling everyone!”
I was once late to work because a sod truck flipped and the interstate was covered in grass.
It’s called a shart 
I’m not sure the excuse is all that bizarre, but the amount of documentation and proof I had to show got a little ridiculous.
I was one of the “victims” of the Volcanic Ash Cloud of Doom that shut down European airspace last month. As a result, I was unable to fly home, spent an extra 5 days in the UK, and missed a final exam at university.
I went to the school to fill out the exam deferral form, and they requested documentation, so I brought along my passport (UK tourist entry visa), proof that I stayed at the hotel I was at during the entire length of my trip, my original travel itinerary, the boarding pass I used to go to the UK, the bus ticket/receipt for the bus to the town I stayed in, the itineraries and e-tickets for each of the flights I was scheduled for which subsequently got cancelled, the boarding pass of the flight I eventually took (2 days after the exam), and happened to have some photographs from the trip as well on my cell phone.
The school takes all this, looks it over, and says
“But nothing here shows that any of these flights were cancelled. How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
:smack:
Apparently these office drones had managed to miss one of the most newsworthy events of the past several months, one that had a massive financial impact on all of Europe.
I had to get the airline to write a nice little note saying “Flights XXXX, YYYY and ZZZZ were cancelled due to volcanic activity in Iceland”.
That was acceptable proof…I hope. If the school bitches again, I’ll be going straight to the airline to beg the CEO to write me a note, I’ll get signed affidavits from every last person I met and interacted with in the UK, and see if I can get any of the CCTV footage every damn street and business in Brighton must have.
And my university is supposed to be full of smart people?
That’s a great girlfriend right there. Maybe she should have come up with a better excuse and described him as terribly ill, but you don’t abandon someone on a bad trip.
My neighbors were having work done in their house last summer. My driveway is closer to the neighbor’s front door than it is to mine. The first day of work, the worker parked his truck in front of my driveway, blocking me from getting out. I went next door and proceeded to ring the bell and knock on the door for at least an hour. Finally, he opened the door. His excuse, in broken English, was that the owners of the house told him to not answer the door or the phone. I suspect that he was illegal and afraid of deportation.
When I was a manager, one of my employees called in late once because “Dogzilla, I have ants in my pants.”
Turns out, she’d just done her laundry and set the laundry basket – with all her clean clothes in it – on the floor of her closet. Ants had gotten into her apartment and invaded her clean laundry. She said she was driving in to work when she felt one crawling up her leg. Then another. And another! Said she damn near wrecked the car trying to swat at the ants in her pants. So she had to go home to change. But all her clean clothes were full of ants, so she had to do a load of laundry before she could come into work.
I told her that, even if her story was complete bullshit, I’d give her a pass and accept her excuse because it was so creative and hilarious.
Not exactly bizarre, but I couldn’t make it to work because the storm last night felled a tree across my driveway.
The call my neighbors had to make. The storm blew over a tree into the garage totalling both vehicles and the garage.
Note: Not the same tree.
Wow, I had something like that happen once, too. It had been raining a lot for several days, and apparently during the night some fire ants decided they’d had enough and came indoors looking for drier shelter. They found their way into my closet, and then, just because fire ants are dicks, climbed the up the little cardboard four-drawer sock-storer-mini-dresser I had in my closet into the top drawer… where I kept my underwear. Didn’t notice them, of course, until I put on the jockeys for the day and got bitten a couple of times in short order. I spent about 15 minutes shaking out the whole dresser-thing, spraying the carpet and floorboard in the closet, and dismantling the mound that was built against the outside wall of the apartment. I called work to tell them I’d be a little late, and why.
At my current job, my bosses are great people who I consider friends. A couple of weeks ago it was unusually slow trying to get the kids to daycare and just getting the morning routine going, so I was late. When I got there I said to our VP, in my most earnest deadpan, “Sorry I’m so late getting here today. I’d have been here earlier, but I just didn’t care.” Got a good laugh out of her.
I wasn’t late, but I had to go home immediately after getting to work.
When I first moved in with my wife, she had a cat that did not like me at all. He would hiss and attack me all the time. Wife took the cat to the vet and the vet put him on valium. Every day before work I would open a can of cat food, crush a valium and put it on top. One day my routine was screwed up somehow and I put my contacts in after giving the cat his meds. I must have still had some of the crushed up valium on my finger which went into my eye. I didn’t really notice anything but as soon as I walked into work one of my co-workers freaked- one of my pupils was completely dilated while other was normal. I went straight to the doctor who was sure I had suffered some head trauma, but then called an ophthalmologist who told me to go home and sit in a dark room and return at 4pm. By the time I returned I had figured out what had happened, and the doctor confirmed that since valium can cause your pupils to dilate when taken orally, putting some directly into your eye would do the trick.
Eleven years later, I still get shit over this incident at work.
My indoor cat used to do her best to run outside whenever I was taking my bicycle out the front door to go to work. If she managed to get out, she would hide under a parked car. Many times I had to chase her from one car to another until I finally caught her. One day, as I tossed her back in the apartment, I realized that I had lost my keys in the process. Yeah, I could ride my bike to work without keys, but I couldn’t very well leave the front door unlocked. It took me half an hour to find them.
She dropped that habit after she got hit by a car. She’s fine now, but conveniently afraid of going outside.
Dear Bobby
86%. Very well done!
P.S. Please excuse the scratch marks and bite holes all over your assignment. Unfortunately, my cat ate your homework.
I was at work and somebody called in to say she wouldn’t be coming in that day because she had just had anal sex for the first time the night before and her ass was still bleeding.
I couldn’t go to work because my nose would not stop bleeding. I finally got it to stop hours later.
If they do, let me know. I can try and get you a letter from the Air Force 
My actual one:
My lonely neighbor woman’s dog was hit by the garbage truck and the carcass was smeared across the bottom of the driveway. I couldn’t think of an elegant way to back my car over the dog while she sat there sobbing over its corpse. It was a day where it was vital I be on time and the whole affair lasted well over an hour before I decided I simply had no choice and backed out over the dog remains.
I felt much worse about it than it sounds, but then again she did repeatedly let the dog run free in an urban neighborhood.
Dear Boss,
I can’t come to work because I can’t move due to severe back pain. It took me hours to crawl across the floor of my apartment to the phone. I am going to the clinic as soon as I can.
Thanks,
Sunspace.
(This actually happened in around 1991. I was pretty out of shape, and had lifted a heavy load a few days before.)
At my previous job, a girl called in one morning to report that she had shit her bed and would not be able to make it in that day.
And at another job, a girl called to say that she couldn’t come to work because she had hit herself in the head with a plug from a TV when she had yanked it out of the outlet.
Oh, and it wasn’t at my job, but one of my co-workers said her husband called in once because a bee had stung his penis.
Dear Overly’s boss:
Overly will be late today because daycare burned down, there was a flood in her basement and when she finally managed to secure babysitting services and the basement was finally dried enough to leave (thanks to the several industrial-sized fans and holes she had to have made in the walls), she went outside to find that both her tires are flat. Sorry 'bout that.
Signed,
A Really, Really Bad Week