Many years ago, while working for a well-known electronics store, our area experienced a massive ice storm. Many roads were closed, as were many businesses.

Knowing that I lived at the bottom of a hill and my older sedan wouldn’t make it up the hill that was covered in ice, I called my manager to let him know that there would be no way for me to get to work. He immediately got annoyed and said:

Manager: “You have a shift today, so you need to be here!”

I explained that I lived on a hill and that due to the thick layer of ice on the road, my car couldn’t make it up. I also asked why we were still open when most of the roads and all of the other businesses in the area were closed, and he said:

Manager: “It’s not as bad as people are making it seem. I’ll figure something out and call you back.”

Fine. Whatever. About fifteen minutes later, he calls back.

Manager: “[Coworker] has a jeep and lives a couple of minutes away. They’re the other person scheduled to work with you tonight. They’ll come pick you up because jeeps can make it through anything.”

Me: “That’s a bad idea.”

Manager: “You don’t get to have an opinion because you have to work.”

Four hours later, just before my shift, I get a call from [Coworker] to tell me he has arrived. He also lives at the bottom of the hill, so he was able to take flat roads to get to me. I walk outside and get in the car, and we give each other a knowing look and start making our way up the hill. The jeep’s wheels start to slide, and the vehicle rolls back. We try again and slide back down. One more time, and we slide back down.

[Coworker] tells me that he had told the manager that his jeep wouldn’t be able to make it up the hill either, and the manager told him that “jeeps can make it through anything,” just like he’d told me.

At this point, I’m not risking our safety for this job, so I invite my coworker inside my apartment, and we call the manager together to let him know that no, jeeps cannot make it through anything and now he’s cost himself both employees who were scheduled tonight instead of just one.

He informs us that about two hours earlier, he’d gotten word that the major road the store was on had been closed anyway, so they’d closed the store. You’re telling me that we could have avoided all of this, including my coworker now being stuck at my apartment, and he didn’t call to let us know!?

I’ve been at an apartment complex all morning performing a telecom system upgrade. I checked in with the lady at the office, explained that my work was limited to a single utility room in the basement, and was given a single fob.

Everything goes smoothly, so I pack up, load up my van, and go to the office to return the fob.

Office Lady: “What about the other key?”

Me: “That fob was the only thing I was given.”

Office Lady: “No, I gave you a key with the fob.”

Me: “Ma’am, the only thing I was given was the—”

Office Lady: *Now angry.* “—Don’t argue with me. I’ve been doing this for fifteen years; I know what the f*** I do with my keys.”

Me: “I’m not trying to argue, ma’am, but the only thing you gave me was the fob—”

Office Lady: “—I don’t know what you’re remembering, but I gave you that key.”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am. I didn’t need any keys beyond the set I just gave back.”

Office Lady: “WELL, this is going to be a BIG complaint to [telecom company] then. I don’t WANT to get you banned from the building, but I have NO CHOICE since you lost the key to [unit] I gave you.”

Me: *Starting to walk away.* “I had no reason to be in that or any other unit, ma’am. My work was entirely within the utility room downstairs, as I explained when I came in.”

Office Lady: *As I’m halfway out the door.* “Oh. Oh! Oh! Oh! I’m sorry. I remember now! There’s another contractor that looks just like you! Seriously, I should take you to see him. He has the same hair and everything!”

Me: *Still leaving.* “Thanks for apologizing, but I don’t appreciate the way you were talking to me.”

Office Lady: “Well, I’m still going to report you then. Have a nice day!”

As a paralegal at a large firm, our office gets a fair number of scam calls. I’ve learned to recognize them and can end them briskly. One day the phone rings, and when I pick up, I get the first warning. After I speak, there’s a pause and a “bloop” sound as the call is routed.

Caller: “Yes, hello, I need to speak with [Senior Attorney].”

Red Flag #2: He used their first name like they’re friends.

Me: “I’m sorry, they’re in a meeting. May I take a message?”

Caller: “No, I need to talk to them. When is a good time for me to call back?”

Red Flag #3: No message, just a demand for their time.

Me: “May I ask who you are and what matter you’re calling in reference to?”

Caller: “My name is Bob, and I’m calling about your financial assets.”

Yeah, definitely a scammer. Time to shut him down.

Me: “We work with several companies regarding our financial assets, Bob, which one are you calling from?”

Caller: “Um…”

Me: “Can’t answer that, can you? Please don’t call here again.”

I hang up. To my surprise, the same number immediately calls back.

Me: “Good morning, [Law Firm].”

Caller: “Is this how you speak to a legitimate business?”

Me: “It’s not, Bob, but I don’t think you’re legitimate at all.” *Hangs up again.*

He calls right back!

Me: “Good morning, [Law Firm].”

Caller: “I will have you fired! Your boss will want to speak to me!”

Me: “My employer doesn’t usually speak to people with no last name who won’t admit where they’re calling from. Good-bye.”

I hang up again and immediately send a message to the work channel advising not to pick up a call from [number] as it’s a persistent scammer. The call is sent to voicemail. Amazingly, Bob did not leave a message for my boss demanding that I be fired, and our firm’s financial assets are just fine.

I rent a basement room in a large home shared with many others. There is one other woman who rents a room in the basement, who loves her TV a bit too much. She has the same televangelist on non-stop, and I mean that quite literally. She’s gone four days straight without turning the TV off or changing the channel on more than one occasion.

The reason I know that it’s a televangelist she is listening to is that the walls between our room are paper-thin, and she keeps the volume up so high that I can hear it so clearly it may as well be playing on my TV.

I’ve talked to her about this many times. She says she will keep the volume lower or start using a sleep timer at night, but she only keeps to her promise for one or two days before she reverts to her previous behavior.

I’ve downloaded a white noise app on my phone and have to keep it running at maximum volume to drown out her tv to have any chance of doing anything in my room, but even with the white noise, I can hear the TV; it’s just somewhat easier to ignore it.

That was until one day when she decided her TV wasn’t loud enough, and turned her volume up even more! Now, even at max volume, my phone could not drown out the TV. I could hear every word coming through loud and clear despite my best efforts.

I attempted to go to bed at 11:30 PM, hearing a televangelist telling me to repent my sins. At 12:00 AM, I’m still awake, being told I should turn the other cheek. By 12:30 AM, I’m told God has plans for me, plans that evidently involve me never getting to sleep again. By 1 AM, I have still not had a wink of sleep and am wondering if the Lord’s forgiveness would extend to my violating that whole ‘thou shalt not kill’ commandment just this once.

So, I headed over to the circuit breaker and flicked the switch to [Roommate]’s room off and back on, figuring that we tripped circuits often enough in the very old and poorly wired house that no one would be able to prove I’d done it intentionally. Then I finally went to bed to the delicious sound of silence.

I spoke with my roommate about the volume of her TV the next day, and it went down to her usual volume at least. But that one night of sleeping in silence was so glorious, I couldn’t help but try the trick again a few nights later. And then a few nights after that.

At this point, my bedtime routine involves padding over to the circuit breaker in my socks as I brush my teeth so I can hit that wonderful magic switch to turn off God’s words for the night. I’ve been doing this for months now, and [Roommate] still hasn’t commented on it. I’m not sure if she has even realized it’s happening. I only wish I could justify doing it when she was awake and would notice.

To preface this story, our house used to be the mansion of the mayor back during the colonial era.

Frankly, it’s a kinda s*** house: It’s poorly insulated, and there are a lot of weird stairways and corridors that used to be methods for the servants (and possibly slaves) to get around during the colonial era. And don’t get me started on getting a wifi signal through chunks of limestone.

The ONLY reason we live here is because of our obsession with old things.

Anyway, my husband was attempting to hang a German cuckoo clock from the 1860s on the wall when he accidentally stepped on the cat and went tumbling THROUGH the wall, revealing a secret servant’s passage that had been papered over and forgotten.

He curled his body around the clock and was able to mostly protect it. He was less able to protect himself; this resulted in a hospital trip. Anyway, this particular servant’s passage was cut off from the rest of the house.

We wandered through it; it was creepy, but all the other openings to this particular passage had been papered over. Still, plenty of stuff had been left in it: The worst of it: Ancient, dry-rotting Barrels of Gunpowder and flour, not sure which was scarier.

We also found some antique light fixtures, intended to hold candles. A couple of landscape paintings of presently unidentified locations that are PROBABLY somewhere in Delaware? An extremely tarnished silver serving set, and a bunch of really old Bibles in a box.

So… the gunpowder (and flour) in particular was scary to find, because both of those things explode, and given that the house had, since construction, been wired for electricity and gas and the wiring was, uh… knob and tube? And some of the wiring went through the walled-off passage? NEAR the barrels of flour?!

Yeah. That was scary as f***.