My mum is a very nice lady, but you don’t want to cross her or hurt her kids. That doesn’t mean we get away with everything; on the contrary. Her “mum sense” is very sensitive; she often knows of our wrongdoings almost before they happen. We are usually very honest in confessing, as lying often leads to a more severe punishment than the transgression itself.

One day my brother, about fifteen and fairly shy and quickly intimidated, returns home from school and tells my parents that he got a ticket going to school this morning for crossing while the light was red. He swears that the light changed when he was already on the crossing with his bike. The officer, however, bullied him into acknowledging he crossed the road during the red light and gave him a ticket.

My mum studies the ticket and ushers my brother into the car, and my parents and brother drive to the police department.

Mum: “Where do I need to pay?”

Police Officer: “Excuse me?”

Mum: “Where do I need to pay? Apparently, my son crossed [Busiest Crossroads in town] during rush hour and all he has to show for is a ticket. I’m happy to pay the ticket and not the undertaker, so where do I need to pay?”

My mum makes enough noise to attract the attention of the commissioner and he overhears the last part.

Commissioner: “Can I see the ticket, please?”

He mumbles under his breath, “[Officer] again,” before speaking to my mum.

Commissioner: “I agree, it would be sheerly impossible to cross the road there at that hour without getting hurt. You don’t need to worry about the ticket; we will take care of it.”

It later turned out that the officer issuing the ticket had a track record of very readily ticketing teenagers for real or imagined facts. I don’t know what happened to the officer, but we never heard anything about the ticket again.

I run a writing group which organises talks, workshops, and other writing-related events for its members. Most events go off smoothly and the speakers and workshop leaders are a delight to work with. However, there have been a few that were less pleasant to work with.

A few days before a scheduled talk, the speaker calls and cancels, saying that something has come up. This is less than ideal since this gives us no time to organise a replacement, but I thank him for letting us know and then frantically try to notify members and organise something else.

Thankfully, we end up having a free-writing session and everyone rallies together to bring snacks and drinks and we have a wonderful evening.

A few days later, the speaker calls me.

Speaker: “I don’t seem to have been paid.”

Me: “Paid?”

Speaker: “Yeah, you agreed to pay me.”

Me: *Long pause* “You cancelled and never actually did the talk, so we didn’t pay you.”

Speaker: “Well, the contract says if the talk was cancelled with less than forty-eight hours’ notice I would be paid anyway.”

Me: “Yes… if we have to cancel the meeting with less than forty-eight hours’ notice. If you cancel, you don’t get paid, regardless of how much notice you give.”

Speaker: “Why should that make a difference? The talk was cancelled at the last minute, so I want the money.”

Me: “We’re not going to pay you for a talk you never gave that we didn’t cancel.”

Speaker: “Well, I guess I’m just going to have to sue you, then, aren’t I?”

Me: “You’re welcome to take legal advice if you want, but our contract is clear. You aren’t owed any money.”

After a few choice words, the speaker hangs up. A few weeks go by and he calls again.

Speaker: “I spoke to a solicitor and he says you have to pay me.”

Me: “We haven’t received any kind of correspondence from your solicitor.”

Speaker: “Well, he said you have to pay me, so I want my money.”

Me: “You cancelled your talk with less than forty-eight hours’ notice even though the contract asks for five days. The contract very specifically says you will only be paid for last-minute cancellations we make. You cancelled. That means you have no legal claim.”

Speaker: “Well, that’s not what my solicitor says.”

Me: “I suggest you get your solicitor to send us a letter.”

Speaker: “And then you’ll pay me?”

Me: “No. But then you can take it to court where a judge will throw it out because you have no case and are being ridiculous.”

Speaker: “How dare you?! This is so unprofessional!”

Me: “So is cancelling with less than forty-eight hours’ notice and expecting to be paid.”

The speaker shouted some profanities at me and hung up. Thankfully, I have not heard from him since.

This story is part of our July 2020 Roundup – the best stories of the month!

Read the next July 2020 Roundup story!

Read the July 2020 Roundup!

I’ve shared this story in the comments of a few different NAR stories, so it may be familiar to some long-time readers.

About ten years ago, my hometown had a bit of a burglary problem. Several homes in the area are summer homes for rich people; they are not occupied year-round. Naturally, this made it easy for the burglar to avoid getting caught; they just broke into homes that they knew were empty. They also only stole routine items such as TVs, video game consoles, and power tools — stuff that was easy to sell in secondhand markets without drawing any significant attention.

Several of the rich homeowners had installed alarm systems through a local security/alarm company, but the company had not taken action in any of the burglaries, and law enforcement had never been sent to investigate an alarm. Naturally, the homeowners simply assumed that the alarm systems were faulty, but the company finally admitted that while each burglary had triggered the alarm, the automatic verification calls to the home had always come back as a false alarm report.

Law enforcement officers finally listened to the recordings of a few such calls to figure out what was going on. In each call, the company agent naturally went through an identity verification script to make sure they were talking to the actual homeowner. The only problem was that, instead of having the homeowner state the answers to the security questions, the company only required the homeowner to verify the information on file.

For example, instead of asking, “Who am I speaking with?”, the company would ask, “Is this [Homeowner]?” Instead of asking, “What is the address of this property?”, the company asked, “Is this the property at [address]?”

All the burglar had to do was answer yes to every question and the company recorded it as a false alarm.

Law enforcement seized the recordings of every such call and were able to use voice matching to prove that every burglary had been committed by the same man. When that man was finally caught trying to sell one of the stolen items online, he was arrested, tried, and convicted for every burglary. He spent a few years in state prison.

In the end, very few of the homeowners ever received compensation after being burgled. The alarm company declared bankruptcy and dissolved immediately after their negligent behavior was exposed, which somehow allowed them to avoid lawsuits from the homeowners. A few of the many stolen items were recovered from pawn shops and online markets, but most of the items were generic enough that they were never found again. And because the burglar didn’t have much going for him in terms of financial assets, any civil lawsuits filed against him would have earned such a small settlement that very few of the homeowners went ahead with such lawsuits.

The police department of my small town has a huge shakeup after several justifiable complaints come to light about the illegal activity being committed by several officers and the Chief of Police. They are finally replaced with mostly good people who work hard to regain the trust of the town and who at least have a good sense of humor.

About six months after it happens, one of the new officers comes through the drive-thru window of the gas station where I am working.

Me: “Hey there, what can I get for you today?”

Officer: “I’ll take three packs of [Cigarettes] and a can of [Dip].”

Me: “That’ll be around [amount]; let me go grab those for you.”

I grab them and come back to begin ringing him up.

Officer: “You know, I see you in here just about every day. You’re always having to ask us what you can do for us, so let’s turn the tables. What can I get for you?”

Me: “Five million dollars in small, unmarked, non-sequential bills, please.”

He is clearly not expecting that quick answer, because he bursts out laughing at once as he pays for his items.

Officer: “That’s a good one! Okay, deal. Can I slip you a few ink packets with that?”

Me: “God have mercy on your soul if I find an ink packet in there. You have a safe day.”

I am the OP of this story. This is another story from the same hotel.

This same night auditor from the previous story continues to work at the hotel for months. He does take on a few day shifts but still occasionally will not show up for a shift and is not held accountable.  

One time he comes in for his shift at 4:00 am, five hours late, while I have stayed and started the auditing process (as I now have been conveniently trained due to/during the first story).

This continues on for some time until our front office manager notices that our two slot machines in the bar are short exactly $100 every Friday and Saturday night. After a few weekends of this continuing, they contact the police and set up cameras.

The cameras capture the night auditor stealing from the machines by popping the back doors open.

The police review the footage and obtain warrants to search his home; I’m not sure of the specific details here. They search his home and find that not only has he been stealing money, but he has a handwritten list of credit card numbers with names and CVV codes from customers of the hotel. Worse yet, it is actually his parents’ house and they have been running a meth lab out of the basement.

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