A few years ago, I was on call for jury duty for three months. We were supposed to call in every week to see if we needed to report. Toward the end of the three months, there was a notice to report.

I arrived at the courtroom, checked in, took a seat, and waited… and waited. A friend joined me. She was a music teacher, and she was worried that she would get chosen as it was right before spring concert dates for her. 

The judge came out.

Judge: “People aren’t showing up for jury duty. We’re having to send sheriff’s deputies out to find people as we can’t start until we have enough potential jurors.”

A few more people straggled in, and they finally said we could start. The defendant and the lawyers came out and stood at their tables. The defendant started peeking back over his shoulder at all the people sitting in the courtroom. About the time the judge came out, the defendant leaned over and whispered something to his lawyer. The lawyer then asked to approach the bench. Both lawyers went up and talked to the judge for a couple of minutes. Then, they went back to their tables and gathered up their stuff, and they all left. 

The judge came over to the potential jurors.

Judge: “The defendant has decided to plead guilty. You are all free to leave. It’s fairly common for defendants to see all of the people here and change their minds.”

The defendant ended up getting a plea deal out of it, my friend didn’t have to miss her concerts, and I got paid for sitting in a courtroom for a few hours!

CONTENT WARNING: Armed Robbery

This happened when my girlfriend and I were eighteen, and we worked at the same store. Our store manager was a small, middle-aged lady who overall wasn’t a bad manager, but she had one big problem. She was terrible at dealing with shoplifters. I don’t know what the laws are in other countries and states, but where this took place, workers were not allowed to touch shoplifters or else they could sue our company. According to store policy, for safety reasons, we were not allowed to block or stand in the way of shoplifters. Our store manager regularly yelled at, confronted, harassed, and blocked shoplifters. She had gotten in trouble for it before, but she was good at her job and we had no replacements.

One morning, my girlfriend, the store manager, and I were all working in the store. My girlfriend was working the front register, managers are supposed to stay at the front, and I was in the back helping people if they needed something from our back room.

At some point, I came out of the back room and found [Manager] arguing with some woman, who was carrying a large bag that appeared to be empty. This person was a regular shoplifter in the plaza where the store was located. So, [Manager] had followed her all the way to the back of the store.

Shoplifter: “Stop following me!”

Manager: “I’m just here in case you need anything.”

[Manager] was constantly about five to ten feet away from her just cleaning up shelves.

This was nothing new, so I didn’t think much of it. The shoplifter asked for some items from the back, which I brought out to her because she hadn’t done anything wrong yet and I didn’t know she was a regular shoplifter. I was still being nice and cordial with her because that’s just how I work.

Afterward, I convinced [Shoplifter] to let me bring the items she had asked for to the front for her. We do this to prevent shoplifting by placing the items behind the counter of the register and not bringing them back up until they pay for them. When I got to the front, I began helping my girlfriend cut the line down and got on the other register.

As [Manager] and [Shoplifter] approached the front, they were getting more and more aggressive with each other. [Shoplifter] had begun grabbing items off of the shelves and stuffing them into her bag.

Shoplifter: “Now I’ll give you a reason to follow me!”

[Manager] started berating her and slapping items out of her hands onto the floor. [Shoplifter] then tried to leave out the front door, and [Manager] blocked the door, two feet in front of her. [Manager] told me to call the cops, so I did. This whole time, I was trying to ignore what was happening and help other people at checkout, and my girlfriend was doing the same. At the same time as I was trying to ring people up for their items, I was on the phone with the cops telling them the situation and the description of the shoplifter.

At some point, I looked over, and [Shoplifter] had pulled a gun out of her bag and was now pointing it at [Manager]’s head. As I relayed this new more terrifying situation to the operator, [Manager] continued to stand her ground and MOCKED HER GUN, saying the gun wasn’t real and that she was doing a poor job of threatening her. The operator was asking for descriptions of the gun; it was a small pistol with a sight accessory on the top.

[Shoplifter] then pointed the gun to the floor behind [Manager] and shot it, causing everyone to suddenly crouch down. I continued relaying this information to the operator. It was pretty loud but not as loud as normal firearms, and there was little to no flash. So, when she brought the gun back to point it at [Manager]’s head, she STILL didn’t believe it was real and was still berating her and blocking her from leaving the store.

A few seconds later, [Shoplifter] pushed past [Manager] and began running down the sidewalk. [Manager] FOLLOWED HER OUTSIDE and continued to yell at her as she ran away. I explained to the operator the direction she ran, and they said the police would be there soon.

At this point, I would like to mention that [Manager] owns many firearms and regularly takes them to firing ranges.

[Manager] walked back inside complaining about how the cops were still not there yet.

Manager: “People who do that are so funny. Like, don’t you think I can tell it’s not real?”

To which I pointed at the bullet casing lying on the ground. She picked it up, said, “Huh,” and set it on the counter. Then, she walked to the office to pull up a security camera of all this being caught on tape.

Not too long after, the cops arrived and said that they found someone hiding behind the building behind a dumpster. The cops gave [Manager] s*** for not closing the store immediately as people were still walking in and out. They took our statements and information, and I was taken around the back in the police car to verify that they had gotten the right person. They also found her bag and gun in nearby bushes.

For some reason, I was calm throughout the whole thing and still was afterward, but my girlfriend was freaking out and shaking, which is fair. I was glad I was there to help calm her down and hold her.

[Manager] asked the police when we could open the store back up, and she was told a minimum of two hours. She wanted to open back up immediately. The cops explained to all of us that we should never block shoplifters or confront them, and they told us to always assume the gun is real just in case.

And just like that, we reopened two hours later, and my girlfriend and I worked the rest of our shifts like nothing had happened.

Except for the entire front of the store being covered in and smelling like gunpowder dust.

I’m a driver for a rideshare service. I have a dashcam and a camera that points backward at both myself in the driver’s seat and at the back seat. My rideshare profile has that information on it, and I have signage on the inside of my car that the clients are being recorded for my safety and theirs. 

I picked up a client from a bar because he’d been drinking and needed a ride back home, and he was being responsible and not taking his own car. The ride was meant to only be about twenty minutes, and he seemed to be one of those cheerful drunk people who just kind of laugh a little too loud, but he was cracking jokes, making conversation, and not being overly obnoxious.

So far, so good, right?

Then, maybe five minutes into the ride, we stopped at a red light next to a police cruiser, and he noticed the cop. His demeanor changed, though when he started getting angry, it wasn’t at me, it was at the police. I didn’t really engage that much. People aren’t required to have good feelings about the police, after all, though he had some choice words that I won’t be repeating here. 

He wasn’t getting so belligerent that I felt like I was in any danger, and he seemed to calm down once the light turned green and the cop turned onto a different road. Still, he seemed to decide I needed an explanation that I didn’t ask for, so he told me the story about a time he was detained and arrested for having an expired license and that his charges were dropped because, and I quote:

Rider: “We don’t need a driver’s license to drive a car.”

Here’s where, admittedly, I make a mistake. Once I heard that, I flashed to several videos I’d watched over the years of Sovereign Citizens being arrested, and more than a few saying those exact words. It was then that I sort of mumbled, louder than I intended, and he heard me:

Me: “Oh, God, you’re one of those?”

Rider: *Angrily* “What?”

Again, I realize that I shouldn’t have said what I said out loud, but when I tried to apologize and de-escalate the situation, he went on a complete meltdown, kicking the back of the passenger seat, waving his arms around, and full-blown screaming at me because I was “a sheep” and “a government spy”, whatever that meant.

That was the point when I decided that it was time for the ride to end; he was raging so hard that it was making my car rock on its suspension. So, I pulled into a parking space at a gas station and made several attempts to ask him to get out of my car. He refused and continued to scream incoherently over my voice. Then, I decided to just get out of my vehicle and leave him alone in the back seat while I called the police.

His screams continued in the back of my car, though quite muffled, as he started getting red in the face. Other people at the gas station were staring, and it was all I could do to just shrug, as baffled as they were. A few asked what he was mad about, but I just said I didn’t know, which honestly didn’t feel like a lie since his rage seemed really disproportionate to my (admittedly kind of rude) words.

The whole time I stood outside my car talking to 911, the man in my car kept repeating, over and over again:

Rider: “Am I being detained?! I don’t consent to being detained!”

I tried to tell him several times that he could just open the door, it wasn’t locked — I was not going to open the door myself and risk him attacking me — and he wasn’t being detained. He refused to listen, his breath fogging the window as he mashed his face hard against the glass. To this day, I swear that left a permanent face mark that has refused to come off no matter what product I use.

It took several minutes before any police arrived, and later, I learned it was the same cop who had shared a red light with me earlier in the night because he recognized my car in passing. Still, I went up to him and explained what had happened. All the while, the man in my car had not let up on his tantrum, attracting a small crowd. 

Officer: “Is he locked in?”

Me: “No, sir, he can just open the door anytime he likes. I just got out because…” *gestures in my rider’s general direction* “…I didn’t think I was going to be able to help, and I didn’t feel safe opening the door for him.”

Officer: *Nods understandingly* “You got license, registration, and insurance on you? We need proof of ownership if we’re gonna trespass him out of your vehicle.”

Me: *Taking out my wallet* “I have my license here, but the other two documents are in the glove box, and…”

I gestured again at the full-grown, possibly drunk adult, whose voice had started becoming hoarse.

Officer: “Yeah, no, I get ya. I’m waiting for backup before tackling this situation, so do me a favor and hang out for a bit, yeah?”

I agreed, the officer handed my license to his partner to run it and my plates, and before too long, another cruiser pulled into the gas station. With four cops on the scene, my license was returned to me by the first officer, and he asked one last question.

Officer: “You have any information about why he might be like this?”

Me: “I picked him up from the bar around the corner, and I figured he was drunk, but I don’t think I’m qualified to make any… assumptions, I guess?”

The officer nodded.

Me: “I… think he might be a Sovereign Citizen guy?”

At these words, the officer and the other cops in earshot all collectively groaned, sighed, or rolled their eyes.

Officer: “Not that I don’t believe you, but why do you think that?”

Me: “During the ride, he said something about not needing a driver’s license to drive a car, and during… the whole thing here, he just kept screaming that he doesn’t consent to being detained. I’ve seen videos.”

The officer took a breath, closed his eyes, and then let it out before thanking me for my information and telling me to step away to give him and the rest of the cops room, just in case. Not needing to be told twice, I took several big steps away, as far as I could go while still being able to watch.

I think at this point the man had finally tired himself out; once the officer opened the door, he barely even made a token effort before falling limply out of my back seat. He was cuffed, lifted to his feet, and escorted by only two officers as he weakly rasped out protests and accusations, and other than one burst of energy that made him trip and fall, he was placed in the back of the cruiser without further incident. 

Once he was secured, I was able to get my registration and insurance, but the first officer said I was good; he had checked my tags against my license, and everything was in date and it was all under my name. I still offered my camera footage if he needed it, and he agreed, making a note of my phone number and asking me to make a copy.

Officer: “Did he damage your car at all?”

Me: *Checks* “Other than stomping dirt all over the back of the passenger seat and floorboard, no, I think it’s fine. I’ll give it a more thorough check later and let you know?”

Officer: “Yeah, sounds good to me. You stay safe out there.”

Me: “I’ll try my best, sir.”

Once the excitement wore off and I had explained what happened to the other folks who were still hanging around, I treated the officers to some coffee and doughnuts, which they thanked me for and drove off, taking the now — I think — passed out Sovereign Citizen with them.

And that was still only in the top ten craziest things that happened in my rideshare career.

Related:
Sovereign Citizen, Stupid Criminal
Sovereign Citizen, Stupid Coworker

I am in my store before we open. There is a buzzer to ring if you’re there before we open so that someone can come unlock the door. A frantic, repeated buzzing starts, and my manager and I go running to the door. A man is standing outside the door with his hands in his jacket pockets. We both stop short.

Manager: *Through the closed doors* “Yes?”

Man: “I gotta use the bathroom.”

Manager: “There is a [Twenty-Four-Hour Gas Station] on the next corner.”

She points; the gas station’s sign is visible from the front of the store.

Man: “I gotta go now. Just let me in.”

He starts pulling on the doors, but they don’t budge.

Man: “Let me in the f****** store!”

He moves his hand in a way that makes me think he may have a weapon in his pocket.

Man: “Or else!”

Manager: *Looking at me* “Call the police.”

Man: “No! I didn’t f******— Don’t call the cops, b****!” 

I was already connected to the local police department and describing the man. He took off, running in the opposite direction of the gas station. The police arrived soon after and collected our statements. They caught him trying to get into another store a few weeks later, claiming to need to use the restroom again. And yes, he did have a gun on him.

Near Christmas, my boss hired a temporary salesperson. I spent a four-hour shift with him and came out of it hating him more than I thought I was capable of hating another human being. To quote another salesperson’s favorite song, “There’s a strange exhilaration in this total detestation.”

[Salesperson] couldn’t stand me, because even when I was 99% sure of something, I asked questions so I could be 100% sure, e.g., “Is there a reason this receipt is out on the counter?” He told me it was obviously left out accidentally, and I should just put it away instead of asking him.

I couldn’t stand [Salesperson] because he was incapable of agreeing to disagree on anything. No matter how small the argument, he would not let the topic drop until you said he was right after all. Eventually, I told him I would stop talking to him unless he let it go, and I remained silent as he complained about how childish I was being.

After that shift, each of us separately asked the boss to never be assigned shifts with the other. I thought this was a small ask because he was a Christmas temp anyway. Then, the boss hired him permanently, scheduled him throughout the week, and cut my hours down from thirty-nine a week to eight a week. I guess [Salesperson]’s forceful personality was good for sales.

I wasn’t around to witness much of this personally, but I heard from other employees that [Salesperson] started making weird power plays. Whenever someone was being listened to as an expert, [Salesperson] tried to convince everyone else that the expert was stupid and they should all listen to him instead. He played people against each other, repeatedly undermined the manager, and played innocent when caught. Also, it turned out that the reason I was able to stop arguing with him was that I was bigger than him; with smaller employees, including the manager, he would physically block them from leaving until they agreed he was right about whatever petty argument they’d gotten into.

As he alienated more of the salespeople, his hours steadily crept down, and mine crept up again. Then, money started to go missing. [Salesperson] blamed another employee and tried to get her fired for it, but he ended up being caught himself, and I never saw him again. The employees who’d listened to him most kept treating the manager as stupid, so they eventually lost their jobs, as well. I was a worse salesperson than any of them, but I hung on much longer, all because I didn’t trust the guy who couldn’t stand disagreement.