A coworker told me this story. He was all alone, working at a detached post office. Essentially, he sold stamps, took in mail, and maintained the post office boxes. All of the management and supervisors worked at a larger post office a ten- or fifteen-minute drive away.

One day at work, he had a stroke. (Fortunately, it was a very mild one.) He called 911 (the emergency number in the United States). Then, he called over to the other office to tell them what had happened and that he would be leaving. The supervisor who took his call told him:

Supervisor: “Don’t get in the ambulance yet. I need you to stay there until I can get there.”

As you might imagine, he said no, and three minutes later when the ambulance got there, he locked the doors on his way out.

Management actually tried to write him up for “abandoning his workstation”. Fortunately, we have a very strong union, so that went nowhere. The manager in question was promoted a few weeks later.

I am working at a call center when I hear some shouting at the entrance to the office. I see my manager running up to a group of firefighters.

Firefighter: “Why are you all still here?! The building is being evacuated!”

I am confused. I haven’t heard any alarms or anything.

Manager: “It’s just a false alarm, right? These things are never real!”

Wait… the manager knew something was up?

Firefighter: “We’re here to assess that threat! Someone called in a bomb threat! Why are you all still here?!”

Manager: “Look, just do what you need to do, and if you find a bomb, then we’ll evacua—”

Firefighter: “Out! Now! Get out, you unbelievable moron!”

The firefighter actually smashes one of his pieces of equipment against the wall, making a huge sound. I apologize to my caller, hang up, and start walking out.

Manager: “Where are you going?”

Me: “Away from the f****** bomb!”

Manager: “If you walk out now, you’ll be—”

Me: “I’ll be alive, you tw*t!”

The rest of the office left, and only then did we realize the whole building had been evacuated twenty minutes earlier! It turned out to be a false alarm, and my manager was all “I told you so,” but then when he tried to get me into trouble, I asked why none of us had heard the evacuation alarm.

It turned out that a small group of managers had found a way to mute the alarm for our floor, which is super illegal. They were not only fired but charged with endangering over thirty workers.

Last I heard, they were all doing prison time, just because they didn’t want the dent in their numbers that would risk their end-of-year bonuses.

Our venue is rented each year by the local Kidney Association to put on a show by a very talented local Elvis impersonator. It is always a hit, and you would be amazed at how excited some of the grandmas — and even great-grandmas — get at the thought of it. You would think the King himself was going to be on our stage.

I was working in the box office the afternoon before last year’s show when an elderly woman and her daughter came in to purchase tickets to both the show and the meet-and-greet beforehand. After they received their tickets and turned away from my window, the mother somehow got tripped up by her cane and took a tumble into one of the retractable stanchions by the door.

I looked out to see my manager at their side with the first aid kit. I called for an ambulance while she kept the mother calm and applied a bandage to a small wound on her temple (caused by the edge of her glasses). While I spoke to emergency services, my boss tried to make her comfortable on the floor of our lobby.

While all of this was happening front-of-house, the band had been on stage setting up for that night’s performance. It turned out that someone must have run down and let “Elvis” know that he had a fan down in the lobby; the next thing we knew, the man himself had left the stage and was sitting on the lobby floor. He sat by the mom’s side, holding her hand in his, and making jokes about her going to such lengths to meet him one-on-one. Soon, she was smiling and laughing, their undignified position on the floor completely forgotten.

When the EMTs arrived, I went out to meet them, but I had to warn them:

Me: “I’m not sure how much help you’ll be now. I think Elvis has already saved the day as far as the patient is concerned.”

They checked her over, and other than a couple of bruises and the cut from her glasses, the mom was fine. She absolutely refused to be taken anywhere for further treatment, declaring that having met “that nice young man”, she certainly wasn’t going to miss the meet-and-greet or the show. She had a fabulous time, and she got special attention from “Elvis” during both, which made her glow.

The Kidney Association continues to do its annual fundraiser with us, and our impersonator friend even flew in for the show this year, taking a couple of days off from a months-long booking in Hawaii to keep his yearly date with our local grandmas. That is one artist who is not willing to let his fans down.

CONTENT WARNING: Death (Stranger found dead, removed by paramedics)
 

The temperature is in excess of 100 degrees Fahrenheit (37.8 C), very high even for the summer. The humidity is over 90%, and my car’s air conditioner is broken. This is the sort of weather people die in. I’m on my way to work. (I work the evening shift.)

I’m driving on a two-lane divided boulevard. It’s very narrow, there’s only one lane going in my direction, and I’m hedged in by high curbs and some nice bushes.

The van in front of me stops at the stoplight. I stop behind it. I wait. The light turns green. The van in front of me doesn’t move. The light turns red again. I wait. The light turns green. I start honking. The van in front of me doesn’t move. The light turns red again.

I physically cannot turn around on this road and find another route. I call the police. They arrive, and shortly thereafter, paramedics arrive.

They tell me that the person in the van is “unresponsive”, and I see the paramedics getting him out of the van. He’s a very large guy, and they’re being very slow about it. I notice them getting out a black bag for the stretcher. I suspect he’s dead.

I’m starting to feel very thirsty. My lips are dry, my eyes are dry, I’m having a headache, and I’m barely able to sweat despite the humidity and temperature. I suddenly start feeling quite bad.

Me: *To an officer* “When do you expect a tow truck to arrive to move the van?”

Officer: “It’s going to be a couple of hours; the tow company is backed up.”

Me: “Could I have a bottle of water, please? I don’t have any in my car.”

Officer: “We don’t have any, either.”

Me: “Okay. Then would it be okay if I leave my car here and go find a fast food place to wait and get some water?”

Officer: “No, that’s not okay. You need to remain with your vehicle so you can move it as soon as that van is towed. Otherwise, we’ll write you a citation.”

Me: “Then can I please sit in the back of one of your cars since my air conditioner doesn’t work? I’m feeling lightheaded and dizzy, and I’m on the edge of panic.”

No, that’s against their policy, too.

At this point, I’m having a panic attack. I bend over and throw up in my panic. The vomit has very little fluid in it — about the texture of corned beef hash.

This attracts the attention of the paramedics.

Paramedic: “How are you doing?”

I pathetically asked for some water, and they got me a bottle. Then, they called another ambulance for me.

I wound up in the emergency hooked up to saline drips for dehydration and heat sickness, and I missed work that day. The cops had my car towed, too, and I was charged a $345 tow fee. But at least I didn’t die.

After that, I started stocking bottled water in my car, and I stopped treating the AC as an optional component. Work, at least, was understanding since I brought a letter from the doctor when I next went in.

I am sitting down eating my food at a fast food place. Two firefighters have already ordered and are waiting for their food. A couple ahead of them has just received their food.

Suddenly, the fire truck outside starts its siren, and the two firefighters immediately turn on their heels. Without hesitation, they’re sacrificing their already-paid-for lunch for the next emergency. The couple runs up to them and keeps pace with them, never slowing down.

Couple: “Wait, take ours! Hopefully, you can chow down on the way!”

They basically shove their food into the firefighter’s arms as they beeline for the fire truck.

Both Firemen: “Thank you, so much!”

The couple then calmly walks back into the fast food place, gets in line again, and reorders their meals.

Manager: “I saw all that. No way are you two paying again.”

This moment restored my faith in humanity more than a little bit!