A Moderately Terrifying Cycle

, , , | Legal | March 27, 2020

My dad is a big fan of bikes; he’s the kind of guy who has three bikes on the wall and is still searching eBay for a deal on more bikes. One day, he has gone to the local bike shop near our house to get one of his bikes fixed. He loads his bike back into the back of his truck and the repair guy asks if he wants to do a survey. My dad agrees.

After five minutes, he returns outside to find his truck has been busted open and his bike missing. He asks the bike shop guy if they have security cameras and they say no. Desperate, he goes to the biltong shop next door. (Biltong is South African snack food; it’s like dried meat sticks.)

After asking the guy if he has cameras, the man asks what was stolen. After my dad explains, the guy tells him to say he was in the biltong store instead of the bike shop, and then the guy calls someone. A few minutes later, a very buff man comes in and asks my dad what was stolen. My dad explains that his bike was stolen while he was in the shop and the owner tells the buff guy that they have a deal and they don’t steal stuff from customers of his store.

They argue for a bit and then the buff guy makes a call. Then, another guy shows up with my dad’s bike. The buff guy then asks my dad if he wants to beat this guy because he broke the rules! My dad says he just wants his bike back and, after a few rounds of, “Someone has to,” and, “Are you sure?” he hands my dad his bike. The buff guy says that the bike looks very expensive and he thinks he deserves a “reward” for getting it back.

The shop owner starts talking about their deal and the buff guy leaves. My dad takes his bike and goes home. In short, my dad accidentally discovered that our local biltong shop pays off criminals so they don’t steal from customers.

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If He Has Nothing Else, He Has The Audacity

, , , , | Legal | March 17, 2020

(I stop at a gas station to fill my tank and get a cup of coffee. I approach the register with my drink and am greeted by the cashier.)

Cashier: “Hi, I can take you here if you’re ready.” 

Me: “Thank you.”

Cashier: “Just the coffee?”

Me: “Actually, I’d like to get $20 on the first pump, please.”

Cashier: “Okay.” 

(A random man comes to stand beside me. He puts a few bags of snacks on the counter in front of me and smiles. The cashier smiles at him and begins scanning.)

Me: “Oh, those aren’t mine.”

Man: “It’s okay, babe.” 

Me: *shaking my head* “No, I –”

Man: *to the cashier* “I’ll take a case of [Cigarettes], too.”

Me: “Stop. I do not know him; I am not buying anything for him.”

Cashier: *uncomfortable* “Okay. So… Uh…”

Man: “Don’t tease her, honey.”

Me: “I’m not teasing anyone. You need to wait your turn.”

Man: “It’s not a big deal.” *puts his hand on the small of my back* “Smile!”

Me: *putting my hand in my pocket* “I will mace you.”

Man: *steps back, hands up* “Okay. It was just a joke. No need to be a b****.”

(The man pushes everything off the counter — thankfully not my coffee — walks out to his car and watches us at the register.)

Cashier: *blushing* “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew him and he was just adding to your order.” 

Me: “It’s okay; it’s not your fault.” 

Cashier: “Do you still want your coffee and gas?”

Me: “I’m going to wait until he leaves if that’s okay with you.” 

Cashier: “Totally acceptable.”

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Guess Who’s Next, Caller?

, , , , , , | Legal | March 17, 2020

(I receive a phone call from someone claiming an arrest warrant under my name is in effect. I’ve heard often about this scam, but it’s the first time I’ve actually gotten the call. So, I decide to have fun.)

Caller: “We are calling to inform you that an arrest warrant will be issued against you…”

Me: “Yeah, I know!”

Caller: “You knew?”

Me: “Of course! The trial already started two days ago. I am escorted by the police every morning to get there! Why are you telling me this today?”

Caller: “The trial?”

Me: “Yeah, with the judge and my lawyer and the jury. Why are you calling?”

Caller: *now hesitating* “Well, there is another warrant for…”

Me: *cutting him* “The police already told me that other charges will be added, and I already told them about what I did to that man in the hotel room.”

Caller: “…”

Me: “…”

Caller: *hangs up*

(I just hope they will call again. It was so fun!)

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You Can’t Punk A Punk (Or Your Mother)

, , , , , | Legal | March 11, 2020

(In the nineties, I am a 25-year-old punk kid with bleached blond hair working graveyard at a [Convenience Store] in a sketchy neighborhood. I’ve worked there long enough that the locals don’t harass me — much — and I never have any real problems. One regular customer is a nurse — a beautiful older black woman who takes the last bus home and comes in and buys smokes, and we joke around about our crappy hours. One night, she comes in and asks to use the bathroom, which is against policy, but I don’t care so I let her. A few minutes later, this kid comes in wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, doing the finger gun thing in his pocket.)

Kid: “Gimme all the money!”

Me: “Your mother…”

Kid: “WHAT’D YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?”

Me: *pointing* “She’s right behind you.”

(The kid turned around as my favorite customer walked out of the bathroom with that “I’m gonna beat your a**!” look that moms use on you when you know you’ve really messed up. The kid’s face was now as white as mine as his mom dragged him out of the store by his hoodie. She said she’d take care of this if I didn’t mind. I just nodded and smiled. A few days later, I was working the morning shift on a Saturday. The kid came in, wouldn’t look me in the eye, and apologized… and invited me to their BBQ. I went and had a great time. Nobody ever messed with me or that store again.)

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A Fraudu-dent Claim

, , , , | Legal | March 8, 2020

A few years ago, my teenage brother was in a slow-speed rear-end accident. He was at fault, but the damage to the other driver’s car was so minor that the cops had to bend down and squint to see it; the dent was barely the size of a dime. They exchanged insurance information, and my mom encouraged him to take photos even though both drivers were okay and there appeared to be no damage.

About a year later, we got a notice that the other driver was suing for $17,000 with a laundry list of complaints and supposed injuries, the pinnacle of which was “loss of enjoyment of life.” The letter was from one of those freeway billboard lawyer firms, which makes us suspect that she spent the ensuing months trying to find a lawyer that would buy into her claims.

Eventually, we got a notice that the insurance company had settled, but we have no idea for how much. We hope it wasn’t for much more than a $3 dust rag to clean her car.

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