(I work for a small business that does horse trails through an area of public forest that is technically “Crown Land” — i.e. belongs to the Queen by default — and has some conservation rules. We have been having difficulty with a man owning a neighbouring property who wants to use the crown land as his own. He has gone as far as shooting at our rides from a distance, and police have been involved several times at this stage. After a long day of work, in which we dismantled some obstacles he left on the land, he pulls up at our worksite to yell out of his car. It is just me, a teenage girl, and my boss, a short, middle-aged lady.)

Neighbour: “You cut my fences!”

Boss: “No, we haven’t. We don’t go on your property.”

Neighbour: “You cut the fence by the river!”

Boss: “The river isn’t on your land. It’s crown land. It’s illegal to fence off public land for your own use.”

Neighbour: *now shouting* “I own up to the river edge—“

Boss: “No, you don’t. Your property line is 30m from the river.”

Neighbour: “I have permission from the owner to use it!”

Boss: “No, you don’t. Crown land has no owner.”

Me: *mostly to myself* “Well, it does have an owner.”

Boss: “What?”

Me: “The Queen?”

Boss: “Oh, my God.” *to the neighbour* “Are you trying to say the Queen was like, ‘Oh, sure, no problem’? How dumb are you?” *loudly, to me* “Hang on while I call the police.”

(The neighbour left immediately. We continued to destroy every fence he built illegally to block our rides.)

(I am working as a park ranger in a state park when one day another new ranger and I are tasked with cleaning up a section of a river. A great deal of trash has washed down the river and has collected on the banks. We are sent down with a truck and trash bags to clean everything up. About an hour into the project, my coworker starts loudly sighing and moving at a snail’s pace.)

Coworker: “Is this good?”

Me: “Huh?”

Coworker: “Is this good enough? Can we stop?”

(I look around. There is still a great deal of trash around us. This is a popular hiking area and the public is often in this area. Things still look awful.)

Me: “Uh, no. We can’t stop until all the trash in the water is picked up.”

Coworker: “But won’t it just get washed down?”

Me: “What? What do you mean?”

Coworker: “If we leave it, won’t it just get washed away? What’s the point of picking it up?”

(I am shocked by what this park ranger has just said.)

Me: “God, no! If this washes down, it will spread to other parts of the river and eventually get into the bay! Why would that be a good idea?”

Coworker: “Then it wouldn’t be our problem!”

(I have no idea how this person got hired with ideas like that floating around in their head.)

(I am hired at the local state park to rent out boats to customers to use to paddle around the river. I am approached by a man and his two kids, a young girl and a younger boy.)

Man: “May we have a kayak?”

Me: “Uh, yeah. Just go up to the front of the boathouse there and they’ll help you.”

(That’s literally what we need to say, because customers have to fill out a bit of paperwork in order to get in a boat in case they get lost. The man and his kids walk up to the front and they leave my sight. They come back a few minutes later.)

Me: “Hey, did you get everything filled out?”

Man: *long pause* “Yes.”

Me: “All right! Go ahead and get your life jackets, and I’ll get you in the water.”

(They did so, I let them in, and all that. They paddled around in the kayaks for an hour and got back out, and I was bewildered to find they just wanted to leave instead of actually paying. What I didn’t know is that the man and his kids went to the front of the boathouse, saw the huge line they had, and decided they didn’t want to wait! If any park ranger had found out about that, we’d be in huge trouble! But the real frosting on the cake? He expected the kayak rentals to be free. I made him fill out the paperwork and pay like all the other customers, and he left looking pretty sad he had to do that.)

(A tourist runs into the ranger station looking really scared.)

Tourist: “Help! There’s a grizzly bear in the parking lot. A grizzly bear! He chased my kids!”

(The rest of the rangers and I grab our guns and run out to the parking lot to chase off the bear and make sure no one is hurt. When we get outside, we look around but don’t see the bear.)

Rangers: *yelling* “Where is it?! Where is the bear?”

Tourist: *pointing frantically* “It’s right there! Right there between those cars! Shoot it!”

(We continue to look around but don’t see the bear while the tourist continues to point and scream. Finally, one of the rangers notices a marmot running between two cars.)

Ranger: *pointing at the marmot* “Wait. Is that what you mean? That little brown animal right there?”

Tourist: “Yes! That’s it! Shoot it, quick!”

Ranger: “Sir, that is a marmot, not a grizzly. Marmots are just really big ground squirrels.”

Tourist: “That’s not a grizzly? But it looked just like the picture I saw in the magazine. Are you sure?”

Ranger: “Yes, sir. Grizzlies are much much bigger. They are taller than a person when they stand up and they weigh 500 lbs or more.”

Tourist: *embarrassed* “It didn’t look that big in the picture.”

(The Washington Monument is currently under construction due to an earthquake in 2011. It’s covered from top to bottom in scaffolding as workers make repairs. The ticket booth where you would normally buy tickets to ride the elevator to the top is, obviously, closed. I am walking by one day, and I notice a woman with three children standing at the booth, carrying a lot of tourist merchandise, and looking around in a semi-panic. She sees a park maintenance employee, and waves him over.)

Tourist: “Sir! Sir!”

Employee: “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Tourist: “I’m trying to buy tickets for the Washington Monument, but there’s no one here.”

Employee: “Well, ma’am, the Monument is closed right now.”

Tourist: “No, no. The ticket booth is closed, but I want to buy tickets.”

Employee: “Sorry, I think you misunderstood. The monument is closed to the public for repairs. I don’t know when it will re-open, but it won’t be for a very long time.”

Tourist: “I can see the booth is closed, and I resent your condescending tone!”

Employee: “I meant no tone, ma’am. But the booth is closed because the Monument is closed.”

Tourist: “I’ll make this easy on you. I… want to go… up… there!”

(At this point, I have to step in and help this poor fellow who’s working outside in the heat and humidity and getting harassed by this crazy tourist and her now-crying children.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, but maybe I can help here. The monument…” *I point at it* “…is closed and under construction. No one is allowed to go inside because it’s unsafe.”

Tourist: “What are you talking about? I see people up there right now!”

Me: “Those are construction workers.”

Tourist: “I don’t care who they are. I just want to buy some tickets. We traveled a long way to get here and I promised my children they could go up there!”

Me: “Well, maybe you should have checked before you got here.”

(She pulls out an old, beaten-up tourist map from her purse and waves it in my face.)

Tourist: “This said I could buy tickets!”

Me: “Right. Well, this map is from 2005. See? It has a picture of President Bush on it.”

Tourist: “Don’t you dare blame him! This is all Obama’s fault!”