No stickers on equipment? Bet.

My boss said, very specifically and with the calm authority of someone reading the rules of a board game, “No stickers on equipment.” I replied with the only honest thing you can when handed a vague edict: literal compliance.

We work in a warehouse that treats pallet jacks like MMO gear—everyone has a favorite. So I spent ten minutes with a rag and a box cutter and removed every adhesive badge, name sticker, and decorative logo until the fleet looked like a minimalist art installation. Inventory list for posterity: 28 pallet jacks, 63 peeled stickers, 1 sticker that said “NO STICKERS (IRONY).”

Consequences: sudden, elegant chaos. Shift start turned into a scavenger hunt; coworkers argued in tones usually reserved for parking spots; risk management wandered by and asked if the safety labels were supposed to be non-existent. Someone later suggested, helpfully, that “sharpies are not stickers.” Another recommended spray painting everything pink. I did not opt for pink—I enjoy weekends.

They wanted compliance. They got compliance: a stickerless workforce, ten minutes of productive confusion, and a policy postmortem. In the ledger of petty victories, it’s neat and merciless—no stickers, no favorites, no excuses. Sharpies are not stickers, but consequences are.