One night, around midnight, I realized that I’d left a book in my truck, so I headed out to retrieve it. As I stepped out the door, I spotted someone trying to wiggle out from under my truck in my driveway. At first, I thought it was a dog or something, but then he shifted into the light enough for me to realize it was a man. I shouted, and he managed to wiggle his way out and try to run off, only to trip and slam face-first into the short brick wall that borders our yard. He managed to stagger up and vault the wall, running off, but he obviously broke his nose or something, given the blood splatter that was left on the wall where he hit.

I checked under my truck and quickly worked out he’d been trying to cut off the catalytic converter, leaving some damage to the exhaust. I managed to get that patched up, shuffled some things around so I had enough space to actually pull my truck into the garage, and felt that would be the end of it. I made a report to the police and moved on.

But then, around three days after it happened, a brick got thrown through my front window with a note tied to it, telling me that I would be in “big legal problems” if I didn’t pay for the “medical damages” I’d caused, and listing a PO box that I was supposed to send a check to.

Naturally, I did not do that. Instead, I called the police and provided them with the note as well as my suspicions about what it was regarding. And, it turns out, that was enough of a lead for them to track the guy down. They got me to come in to identify him, and he was apparently linked to several other thefts and break-ins in the area. So, off he went to jail.

But wait, it doesn’t stop there. About a month after all of this happened, I came out to find a paper taped to my front door. On it was a picture of a sad-looking kid and the sentence, “I hope u proudlee like that u make child cry for papa.” It took me a second to figure out what the h*** this was talking about, but once it clicked, I took a pen and wrote, “Very, very proudly,” on the bottom of the paper, and then left it taped on the outside of the brick wall, right about the point where the would-be thief broke his nose.

The paper was gone within a couple of days. I don’t know if one of the neighbors saw it and took it down, but I like to think that whoever posted it came by and got to see that I wasn’t shedding any tears that her “baby daddy” or whatever was in jail.

This happened when I was in high school in the 1970s. We had just finished our production of “Harvey” and had gone to the local twenty-four-hour chain restaurant. We were all still in costume and, as I played the sanitarium assistant, I was wearing what appeared to be medical-type clothing. As I walked into the restaurant, a little behind my fellow cast members, a guy came up to me.

Guy: “Is everyone in the accident all right?”

I had no clue why he asked me that, so I just looked at him and said:

Me: “I don’t know.”

And I went to join everybody.

As I sat down, I noticed that there were cops and an ambulance a few blocks down the street. That’s when it hit me: he thought I was a real ambulance attendant! 

I can only imagine what he thought, a first responder going into a restaurant when there were injured people to deal with. My other thought was, “I’m sixteen; do I look like an adult to you?”

My fellow cast members thought it was funny.

I am job hunting. A local temp agency has a job listed, so I apply. They call me that afternoon, and I can smell the desperation through the phone. Apparently, I am the only Excel expert who has replied at all.

I interview the next day. Let the parade of facepalms begin!

The large company needs to update their emergency escape maps so that, in the event of a fire, employees and visitors know where to run and where to gather. Doesn’t sound much like an Excel job yet.

They have hand-drawn maps of some sites, architectural drawings from some sites, and pictures from a helicopter of one. And they had one electronic file! Some gifted employee had drawn a map in Paint, put it in an Excel file (for reasons never explained), and sent it in.

The project manager, a brilliant but non-technical guy, looked at all this and decided that Excel must be the tool to use. And they needed an expert, because, well, experts make them look better.

I have a policy to never visibly facepalm during a job interview. I follow my policy but the temptation is so strong.

Me: “Excel, while an awesome tool, is absolutely the wrong tool for the job. You’re trying to drive nails with a CNC lathe. I recommend that you find somebody who is good with MS Visio.”

We shake hands and I leave.

The temp agency calls while I am driving home.

Temp Agency Rep: “Can you please spell ‘Visio’ for us?”

I do. They call me back again later that afternoon. 

Temp Agency Rep: “Do you know how to use Visio?”

Me: “I do; it is really pretty simple.”

Temp Agency Rep: “The boss you interviewed with was impressed enough with your honestly suggesting he hire someone else that he wants to hire you.”

So, I spent six months tracing Google Earth images of worksites and figuring out which escape routes fit our state’s fairly vague rules for emergency escape maps. Easy work, nice people.

The job could have been done in a fraction of that time by a decent graphic designer, but they wanted me, I wanted the paycheck, and the work got done.

This story is part of our Best Of January 2021 roundup!

Read the next Best Of January 2021 roundup story!

Read the Best Of January 2021 roundup!

I am driving while listening to a local radio station. This is shortly after a Florida pastor made the news when he announced plans to burn copies of the Quran. The DJs are interviewing an elderly woman who is threatening to do the same unless her demands are met.

Caller: “I have it all ready. I bought two copies from the Internet and I will set fire to them on my grill unless I get what I want.”

DJ: “Well, [Caller], what exactly is it that you want?”

Caller: “Let me tell you a story. When I was a young girl, I attended the 1939 World’s Fair and I saw a television broadcast of a woman dancing, and I thought ‘someday that’s going to be me’.”

DJ: “So, you want to be on television?”

Caller: “That’s right. I want to be put on television, and I want to be interviewed by Larry King before he retires.”

DJ: “And if that doesn’t happen, you’re going to burn two copies of the Quran?”

Caller: “That’s right.”

DJ: *Audibly flabbergasted* “[Caller], I gotta say, that is the most detestable thing I have ever heard.”

Caller: *Crying* “I am not a young woman anymore! I’m afraid if I don’t do something now, I won’t have time to do it later!”

DJ: *Sighs* “Okay, how about this? [Co-Host] does a telethon every year to raise funds for the animal shelter. How would you like to be a part of that?”

Caller: *Sounding disgusted* “Oh, what, am I going to have to hold some one-eyed puppy, too?!”

DJ: “Okay, we’re done here.” *Hangs up*

I’m in my socially-awkward early twenties and I’m visiting a small local theater to see a movie. Before the movie starts, I go to use the restroom. As I’m washing my hands, a young boy around seven comes up to the sink next to me and starts hopping while grabbing at the sink handle. Thinking he can’t reach, I turn it on for him

Kid: “No, not that. I’m trying to reach those.”

He points at the liquid soap dispensers above the sink. I squirt a large amount onto the palm of my hand and lower it to him.

Me: “Here.”

Kid: “Thanks!”

He scoops soap out my hand. I wash off my hands, turn off the water for him, and leave to go see my movie. Later, as everyone is leaving the theater:

Kid: “Hey! Thanks for before!”

I turn to see the kid waving at me with one hand while holding onto a woman with the other. The kid tugs on his mom’s hand and points at me. 

Kid: “Mom, that guy was cool. He helped me use the restroom earlier.”

My eyes went wide as I realized how bad that could sound out of context. I made eye contact with the mom who was looking at me with concern. I wordlessly spun on my heel and started speed-walking to my car. I really hope that kid explained the story better.