Many years ago, I worked for a large company as a secretary. We had an empty office on our floor, and the head honchos had moved in one of their buddies off of the penthouse floor because he had a reputation for frequent inappropriate comments to the young ladies who worked up there. The "good old boys" network used to get away with a lot of stuff they can't get away with nowadays. He didn't get fired - just moved to where he wouldn't embarrass them.
This guy was paid a VERY handsome salary, and did - literally - absolutely nothing all day. Came in late, long lunches, left early. Every afternoon, around 2:00, he would put his feet up on his desk, lean back in his chair, and start to read the Wall Street Journal . . . right in my line of vision. About 2:10, he would be sound asleep, newspaper across his chest, mouth wide open.
Around 2:12 the darn phone on his desk would ring and wake him up with such a start that he'd almost fall out of his chair.
It was better than an afternoon coffee break . . . the sheer pleasure of watching him jump.