At Least They Were On The Hospital Side

, , , , , , , | Legal | April 17, 2019

I grew up in a small country town that was mostly made up of farms. As a result, I learned to drive as soon as I could see over the steering wheel — sitting on my grandfather’s lap — but didn’t actually get my license until I was 21. My home town is separated by a river and, until about ten years ago, there was only one bridge. Quite often there would be an accident on the bridge, blocking the whole bridge, effectively cutting off one side of the town to the other.

Before I got my license, my best friend had her first baby. Three weeks before her due date, she and her fiance had a BBQ as a last hurrah before the baby came. As I was working late, by the time I got there, everyone but the mum-to-be was well over the legal driving limit. About 20 minutes after I arrived, my friend’s water broke and the contractions were coming hard and fast — she’d been suffering Braxton Hicks Contractions for about a month so when labour actually started she didn’t realise.

We called an ambulance, only to find that an accident had shut the bridge down and all three of the ambulances in town were stuck over on the other side. As we were on the same side of town as the hospital, I decided to drive her the kilometre and a half to it. I managed to get her, the father, and my boyfriend into her car and race to the hospital. With about one kilometre to go a police car pulled up behind me and put its lights and sirens on. I ignored the cops and kept going.

I pulled up in front of the emergency department and got out, only to face two pissed-off officers. I ignored them as I send the father in to get help and, without looking at the officers, opened the back door to get my friend.

As I did this, I said to the cops, “Look. No, I don’t have a license. Yes, I was speeding, but the bridge is closed, there are no ambulances on this side, and she’s having a baby. Everyone else is drunk; I’m sober. You can arrest me once she’s taken care of.”

Another contraction hit my friend and both the male officers went pale. Doctors and nurses came rushing out and managed to get her inside.

One cop said to me, “We’ll give you a warning due to the circumstances, but you need to get your license. We hope everything’s okay with the baby.”

My friend didn’t even make it to the maternity ward, and not even ten minutes later, she delivered a happy, healthy baby boy. I got my license the next week.

Initially Incorrect

, , , , , | Legal | April 13, 2019

(I am a “mononym.” That is, I only have one legal name, which I tend to use as a surname.)

Caller: “Please could I have your first name?”

Me: “I don’t have a first name, only a surname: [My Name].”

Caller: *thinks for a second* “What about an initial?”

Me: “An initial? For a first name that I don’t have?”

Caller: “…”

Me: “…”

Two Of Nine

, , , | Legal | April 12, 2019

(Like many other people, I get spam phone calls. I’ve been trying to get off their lists, and it’s clear that the automated systems aren’t working, so I’ve been trying to tell the persons on the other end verbally. It’s worked for a couple of callers, but certainly not all of them. One of the common ones is talking about my current credit card account. I’ve been getting it since well before I had a credit card. They ask me to press nine to speak with an agent, which for this one I’m not particularly interested in doing. I’ve had automated systems claim to put me on a list if I pressed two before, even if that wasn’t a stated option, so I try that. It instead starts the phone ringing, so I figure I’ll just tell them to take me off and be done with it.)

Scammer: *in a very obvious Indian accent* “Hello, can I get your name, please?”

Me: “No. Please take me off your call list.”

Scammer: “I will not take you off my call list.”

Me: *thinking I misheard* “What?”

Scammer: “I will not take you off my call list!”

Me: “Uh, yes, you will take me off your call list.”

Scammer: “No, sir, I will not!”

Me: “Yes!”

Scammer: *in a somewhat sing-songy way* “No-no-no-no-no! I will not take you off my list!”

Me: “Why not?”

Scammer: “Because I don’t want to!”

Me: “Are you kidding me?”

(We continue to go in circles for a bit. Admittedly, I’m being a bit stubborn but this is the first time they’ve outright said no. After a bit he changes up his tactic:)

Scammer: “You pressed nine, sir!”

Me: “No, I did not.”

Scammer: “Yes, you did.”

Me: “No. I pressed two hoping that it would take me off your list.”

Scammer: *sing-song again* “No-no-no-no-no!”

(He was persistent but so was I. Eventually, I stopped responding and just left the line open, which seemed to finally wear him down. He tried asking for my name, and I simply repeated my demand without giving it, at which point he finally said he’d taken the name off his list. I didn’t really believe him, but I knew I was not going to get anywhere by taking it further, so I hung up. I still don’t know what he hoped to accomplish, though. Did he think I was going to suddenly start complying if he said he wasn’t going to take me off his list?)

Driving Like They’re High(way)

, , , , , | Legal | April 11, 2019

Other Car: *driving at 30 in right lane*

Me: *slows down, prepares to pass on left*

Other Car: *drifts into shoulder then overcorrects hard into my lane*

Me: *slam on brakes, thinking I’m going to hit them*

Other Car: *front bumper flies off into the shoulder, with obvious damage from before*

Me: *thinking* “This guy has no business out here.”

(I contact the Highway Patrol number listed on the signs for emergencies on the highway and stay on the car, trying to get the plate number. I am placed on hold. Stunned, I wait, forgetting the plate number as I realize the police have put me on hold. After waiting five minutes, I finally get a dispatcher.)

Dispatcher: “Highway Patrol.”

Me: “Yeah, hi, I’m driving on [Highway], passing mile marker [number]—“

Operator: “So, you’re on [Highway in this part of the state]? Stand by, we will transfer you to that troop.”

Me: “Hey, this is urge—“

Hold Music: *plays*

Me: “What the f***?”

Hold Music: *continues to play*

Other Car: *continues driving erratic and slow*

(We’ve passed a pair of mile markers now, with me still on this car’s tail.)

Me: “Hello? What is this?”

(By this point, we had approached a part of the highway where three lanes feed into one, and since I was trying to tail them from a non-obvious distance, this allowed other cars to merge in and prevent me from getting their plate. I pulled over and waited for a response from the state troopers. After another ten minutes of hold music, I gave up.)

Not The Picture Of A Gun Carrier

, , , , , | Legal | April 10, 2019

(My dad sells gun parts and gives concealed carry classes when he’s off work. This particular instance happens some years ago when he still owns a Crown Victoria, the most iconic undercover cop car. There’s a knock on the front door and my dad goes to answer it.)

Dad: “Hello, are you [Customer #1]?”

Customer: “Yes, do you have my [certain gun part]?”

Dad: “Indeed I do. If you’ll wait here, I’ll go get it for you.”

(He goes to get the part all boxed up and returns.)

Dad: “Okay, all I need is some ID and you can be on your way.”

(The customer, who has been looking a bit uneasy this whole time, takes out an ID and hands it to Dad.)

Customer: “Here you go.”

(Dad looks at the ID, then to the guy, then back to the ID, and frowns.)

Dad: “This isn’t you.”

Customer: “What do you mean, it’s not me? It’s got my name on it, doesn’t it?”

Dad: “Yes, but the picture doesn’t look like you.”

Customer: “I’ve shaved since that picture was taken!”

Dad: *still skeptical, takes the ID to do a quick check and finds that this man is most definitely not who he says he is* “Sir, going to have to ask you to leave.”

([Customer] ranted and raved until my dad threatened to call the cops and pointed out the Crown Victoria in the driveway. Now suitably afraid, he left without another word. Later that day, another customer pulled up to the house, saw the Crown Vic in the driveway, and promptly drove off.)

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