I’m the OP from “Darkly A-Mew-sing.” Our kitty has been happily ruling over our cousins’ farmhouse with an iron paw for six years. One of my brothers (not the one in the first story) visits them about once a month, both to hang out with our cousins and dote on the cat.

One night, as my brother and our cousins are eating dinner, they hear a tornado siren go off. Everyone freezes, drops their silverware, and leaps into action. They have maybe five minutes to secure the entire farm before the tornado touches down. One person goes to secure the goats, the other the cows, and my brother runs through the house calling for the cat.

No luck. He can’t find her. He refuses to stop looking until one of our cousins hauls him into the basement shelter while he’s almost crying about how he can’t find her, where could she be, what if she gets hurt?

He then looks up and sees her sitting on a shelf, her front paws crossed all prim and proper, looking down at them as if wondering what the silly humans were up to.

She received many snuggles, and my brother claims this incident took a year off his life.

I was at a soccer game. I decided to take a short walk around the concourse and treat myself to a souvenir Dippin’ Dots cup. The kiosk has all of four flavors available (cookies & cream, rainbow sherbet, cookie dough, and brownie batter), and none of them look alike.

Me: “One cookie dough, please.”

One lady took my order and handed the bowl to her coworker, saying cookie dough. While she took my payment, the coworker filled the bowl (the “menu” of sorts covers the glass, so it’s not possible to see what she’s doing from the front side of the cart). A minute later and she hands a bowl to me, full of cookies & cream (obvious by the Oreo pieces).

I hated to complain, but I said:

Me: “I asked for cookie dough.”

Worker: “Isn’t that cookie dough?”

Lady Who Took My Order: “Nah, cookie dough has the brown bits.”

I hand the bowl back, and she takes a fresh bowl and fills it. A minute later, and I’m looking at brownie batter (obvious by the brown, not white, dots and almost black bits of brownie).

Me: “That’s brownie batter, but it’s okay, I’ll take it.”

That was my second choice, and I didn’t want to ask her to redo my order again. She came around to my side of the kiosk.

Worker: “WHICH one?!”

I pointed to the photo. The light bulb went on, and a minute later, I was walking away with my cookie dough dots.

I was in the manager’s office with the manager, interviewing for a 2 AM to 10 AM shift. I don’t remember exactly what we were discussing, I was a young adult who didn’t have much work experience. I think the manager was trying to explain to me the store’s college education funding program.

Anyway, that’s when we heard the shouting up front. The manager told me to stay put and went to check the security cameras.

Over her shoulder, I could see that a guy was holding a gun on the cashier up front.

This wasn’t a ‘rough’ neighborhood. It was pretty normal for Chicago. The store was pretty small, a front area for the customers, a ‘backroom’ with cleaning supplies and some limited storage, and a manager’s office.

I don’t really know what I expected. Maybe for the manager to go out there and interrupt what was going on? Perhaps for someone to call 911?

But the manager didn’t do anything. She just watched as the cashier handed over the money to the guy, and he left. She nodded to herself.

Me: “Does… does that happen often?”

Manager: “No, honestly, it’s the first time it’s happened since I was hired four years ago.”

Me: “Are we… supposed to do anything if we get robbed?”

Manager: “No, our money isn’t worth your life.”

Me: “Weren’t you supposed to call the police?”

Manager: “I already did, it’s just a single button press. No need to actually dial in, there’s a silent alarm.”

Then she gave me a very serious look.

Manager: “I’d love to sit around and answer your questions, but I strongly suspect I need to comfort a badly traumatized employee. Let’s reschedule finishing this interview for another day.”

As freaked out as I was by what happened, I was seriously impressed by her calm and collected response.

I wound up working there for three years, and we weren’t robbed again in my time there. They also helped pay a quarter of my college fees, per their employee college benefits program, which was nice.

I finally got the chance to hook a phone scammer.

My cell phone has the capability to do a text-to-voice thing where I send an automated voice message that asks the person why they are calling. The vocal response will come back to me written out.

The response came back with some nonsense that I owed back taxes (I do not.) I decided to have a little bit of fun. A couple of keypad presses later, I had a real person. I’m still on text-to-voice. They start their spiel.

One of the preprogrammed responses is “Can you repeat that?” I press the button for that response.

The person goes through their bit again.

Voice Text: “Can you repeat that?”

The response is the same thing, worded a little differently.

Voice Text: “Can you repeat that?”

I’m starting to giggle.

Scammer: “If you think this call is in error, you can hang up.”

Voice Text: “Can you repeat that?”

Scammer: “If I reached you in error, you can hang up.”

Voice Text: “Can you repeat that?”

Dots show up like the person on the other end is starting to talk again, and then the call abruptly disconnects. By then, I’m cackling hard enough that my kid comes over to see what is so funny. 

Unfortunately, the whole conversation gets deleted the moment they hang up, so I can’t show her or remember the spiel. It wasn’t a long call, but for that couple of minutes, I finally got to annoy a scammer and keep them away from someone else.

I work for the company that hosts touring Broadway shows and musicals as they make their way to Chicago, and as such myself and my coworkers get to see the shows, usually around opening week or press nights. 

‘Beetlejuice: The Musical’ has made its way to Chicago for one week only, and while I go opening night, I unfortunately miss this gem, which was relayed to me by my coworkers who went the following night.

Sometime after the start of Act Two, a character is supposed to sing a tango number, but her lavalier mic (microphone worn by the actors) doesn’t work for the duration of the song.

Rather than stop the show to troubleshoot, a stagehand dances his way on stage during the choreography and gives her a handheld mic.

Which doesn’t work either. 

So, they bring her another mic.

Which ALSO doesn’t work.

The number concludes without her audible singing, and following that is an emotional ballad by the lead of the show, and as she kneels on stage, ready to begin, suddenly over the “god mic” (the microphone used to make announcements in the theatre) a voice booms out saying:

God: “IT DIDN’T WORK THE WHOLE F****** TIME, NOW IT F****** WORKS?!”

The crowd erupts into cheers and laughter, and the lead actress sits there on stage, stunned for a solid fifteen seconds before the performance resumes as normal.