A man with learning differences works at our police station. We’ll call him Peter. What Peter’s story is, I don’t know, but he is a hard worker and mostly happy. Peter understands French, German, and Italian, but he replies to everything in English. He also ignores a lot of instructions.

He once wouldn’t let a senior officer into the station, instead leaving him out in the rain. An angry, soaking-wet lieutenant came into the office.

Lieutenant: *In German* “Peter! Why didn’t you let me in?!”

Peter: “No police ID.”

Lieutenant: “But you know me! I’m [Lieutenant].”

Peter: “Rule [number]: no entry without police ID. Orders by [Lieutenant]. I check bins.” *Walks off*

Me: “What do you want me to do, tell him to ignore the security rules which you wrote?”

[Lieutenant] never forgot his ID again.

Peter does well, and we need someone to manage lockers — for storing guns, shields, laptops, etc. That is an unpopular job, but Peter loves it. He politely explains why someone isn’t allowed a locker, and he makes good use of short space. When an officer doesn’t use it properly, he pranks them by removing the door or filling it with bricks. They learn their lesson. We all love him.

One Friday afternoon, we leave Peter alone for thirty minutes. The next Monday, he arrives at 10:00 am, looking sad. He won’t say what is wrong. After lunch, he comes back happy.

Me: *In German* “Peter, why are you so happy?”

Peter: “Talk to Brigadier. Secret.”

I hear there was an incident that Friday. [Officer #1] wanted TWO lockers, but for some reason, he went to the Brigadier’s private office instead of emailing Peter. The Brigadier’s private office then demanded one for the same officer, followed by [Manager #2] and [Manager #3] in Peter’s office. Peter told them, “I haven’t decided if he gets a locker at all,” then closed the office, and went home, since it was 5:00 pm on Friday.

I get an email.

Brigadier: “I’m looking into Peter’s complaint. Police officers need lockers, but he isn’t talking. I need to know why he disobeyed me and how he works.”

Peter won’t talk to me, either. That week, I see him talking to an interpreter, who is there to interpret a meeting… in sign language.

Me: *In German* “Do you understand him?”

Interpreter: *In German* “Yes. His sign is a bit confusing, but he is very intelligent and chatty.”

Me: “Right… This is Peter. He can hear fine. Can you talk to him and ask him about the locker incident? We need to know how he sorts out lockers.”

The interpreter talks to Peter over coffee, lasting about ninety minutes.

Interpreter: “Peter doesn’t understand the concept of a chain of command.”

Me: “What? In a police force?”

Interpreter: “He doesn’t care what your pay grade is. He decides whether you get a locker and what size. Does he take pride in his work?”

Me: “He’s meticulous about it. Where did he even learn sign?”

Interpreter: “Interpreters on TV during [health crisis], apparently. I mean, he isn’t fluent. He is upset that [Officer #1] didn’t just ask him directly like everyone else. He should have been told he would have to deal with managers he didn’t know. Anyway, why did they harass him on a Friday afternoon when it wasn’t urgent?”

Peter: “Rude SCUBA diver.”

Me: “So, Peter, you wanted to read the reasons why he needed a locker?”

Interpreter: “Yes. He is working hard to get respect from officers, but he can only do that if he is seen to make the decision… like for this police diver with SCUBA gear. He also wants advice from [weapons department], because he thinks a stun grenade in a personal locker is a bad idea.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Peter: “Gun? Meh, okay. Stun grenade? Accident, k’boom explode.”

Interpreter: “Peter felt he couldn’t explain that verbally, because he was being forced to do something. Clearly, he understands the safety risk. Peter, can you do lockers if you get to decide yourself?”

Peter hugs the interpreter.

Peter: *In German* “Ja!”

Interpreter: “Here’s my business card; let me know if you need me.”

Officers were told to contact Peter — nobody else — about lockers. Peter granted [Officer #1] two lockers, on the condition that they didn’t contain stun grenades. [Manager #2] and [Manager #3] were told to stay out of locker decisions.

Out of snarkiness, Peter asks [Lieutenant] for his ID card every time he sees him in the corridor.

I live in a large city — over one million people — and rather than buy wood for my barbecue and fireplace, I watch for tree removal and salvage local material. Our plant waste is removed one cubic yard per week, and therefore, most homeowners are more than willing to allow others to salvage wood so that it does not harm their grass. It is a win-win situation.

At a nearby home, a large tree had been removed, which was conveniently on the road leading to my home. The tree was close to eighty feet tall and four feet thick at its largest point prior to removal. The branches were the size of normal trees, but it was rotten in the center. I received permission to take as much wood as I wanted. Every day, I carried a maul, which is a sledgehammer-axe combination for splitting wood, and I would immediately load split pieces.

During this work, a woman in a car stopped and asked me if the wood was for sale. I advised that it was free. The woman pulled over, exited her vehicle, inspected the pile, and eventually started admiring my truckload.

Woman: “Take this wood out of your car and put it in mine.”

Me: “No, that will not do. Once it’s in my truck, it isn’t coming out. But I will split some wood and help you load it.”

This apparently was not good enough. She tried to make me feel bad, but I advised her that providing any help was more than required. She resorted to rude comments, and I advised her that she could then split and load her own wood.

I thought that was the end when she left angrily, but no. Law enforcement arrived on the scene within fifteen minutes having received a report.

Peace Officer: “Are you making money?”

Me: “No, making chicken and ribs.”

The peace officers laughed at that. I explained the woman’s actions and we laughed a bit more.

Peace Officer: “When are you barbecuing?”

Me: “This weekend! Just follow the good smells for a heaping plate.”

I work for a retail pharmacy. At the end of each shift, we put the money from the cash registers into a small blue bag and take it to the front of the store to “drop” the money into a machine that requires a fingerprint to sign in.

On this particular day, I was exhausted. I had worked a long shift with one of the pharmacy interns who talks a lot and is also quite bossy. I offered to take the money up so I could leave a few minutes early.

As I was putting the money in the machine, a man came up behind me and said, in a joking voice:

Man: “Give me all the money!”

Thinking it was the intern, I said:

Me: “F*** off!”

I turned around.

It was the sheriff.

I work in a hotel, and my morning started off with a bang. As the night audit worker left, he mentioned [Man #1] and [Woman #1], who he’d checked into [Room] forty-five minutes prior. He’d had them pay the early check-in fee, but that was all the excitement of his shift.

About forty-five minutes later, a woman called.

Woman #2: “Is [Man #1] staying at your hotel?”

Me: “I’m not able to give out that sort of information, and I will not be checking to see if he’s staying here.”

Woman #2: “It’s fine; he’s my husband.”

Me: “Ma’am, it is not fine. Regardless of a relation to a possible guest, we do not ever confirm if someone is staying here or not.”

Woman #2: “Fine. I’ll just come down there.”

I hoped she wouldn’t.

About twenty minutes later, my hopes were crushed. [Woman #2] showed up with another man, and they approached the desk.

Woman #2: “Look, we know [Man #1] is here; his car is out front.”

Me: “I can’t help you; there is no information I can give you.”

Both of them were extremely frustrated that I wouldn’t help.

Man #2: “But it’s an emergency!”

Me: “If there’s an emergency, you’ll need to call the police.”

So, they called the police. The officer who showed up has helped me out several times, so I’m pretty familiar with him. He talked things over with [Woman #2] and [Man #2]. It turns out that these two were the respective spouses of our guests, [Man #1] and [Woman #1], and they believed the two to be cheating together.

[Officer] pointed out that this was not a police matter. The jilted husband then decided to insist:

Man #2: “There is no way my wife would have gone willingly with [Man #1]! She is obviously drunk and being taken advantage of!”

None of us believed him, but the officer wanted to watch security footage of the check-in and the paramours heading to their room to confirm that neither of them was under duress. The jilted spouses tried to watch the footage, but the officer told them off.

Watching the security footage, the lady was maaaaaaaybe tipsy but certainly there of her own free will.

Officer: “Try contacting the room. Tell them a welfare check was called in.”

To no one’s surprise, they didn’t answer, so we left it at that.

Officer: “I can tell these folks to leave for you, and I’ll hang around until they’re gone.”

[Woman #2] left in a van, but [Man #2] hung around for a bit and told the officer his car battery was dead. The officer told him he still needed to leave and could not wait for a ride on the property.

At first, he seemed resolute to toe the line and stand literally on the edge of the four-lane highway outside, which is obviously public property, but after a moment of that, he joined [Woman #2], whose van we spotted parked at the gas station across the way.

After the officer left, the head of housekeeping and I joked around, saying the jilted spouses should just get together; then, everyone would be happy. It’s not like we felt great covering for a cheating couple, but it was also super not our business. We wondered how long they would wait over there, considering they also had at least one child with them.

We did not have to wait terribly long to find out. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes later, the cheaters left their room. As the cheaters got close to their car, it became clear to us that their spouses had spotted them, but the couple seemed to be blissfully unaware. The van peeled off down the road to be able to make a U-turn to get back to us, while [Man #2] sprinted across four lanes of traffic. Once he got to our side, he pulled the car door open to scream at his wife as the van pulled into the parking lot. [Woman #2] got out and ran to the driver’s side to slap and scream at her husband.

I was concerned that things might become increasingly violent, so I called the police back before somebody got more than their ego hurt. While I was still on the phone, [Woman #2] ran back to the van, and honestly, for a moment, I thought she was going to ram her husband’s car with the van. But instead, she backed out and drove off. Meanwhile, [Man #2] was trying to coax his wife out of the car or something.

The police showed up and quickly defused the remaining situation. [Woman #1] got out of the car. An officer took each half of the couple aside to confirm the situation with them. A friend or brother of one half of the couple also showed up to confront [Woman #1], so she was just not having a great day. I did not feel too bad for her. [Man #1] was allowed to leave to go get his comeuppance at home with his wife, I assume.

Ultimately, [Man #2] and [Woman #1] seemed to leave together. I say “seemed” because about half an hour later, [Man #2] was back at the desk, no wife in sight. It turns out his car was still dead, and he needed a jump.

I felt for the guy even though he’d been a pain in my butt for the entire morning. I also just so happened to be parked directly next to him and have jumper cables, so I went out and jumped the guy’s car for him. He thanked me for my help and told me to have a good day, and I said, “You, too,” without thinking.

Pretty sure the chance of this guy’s day turning around is slim to none.

I live in an apartment complex. My apartment is owned by a corporation that owns several apartments in the area, but they’re not, like, a bad corporation. They’ve always responded to complaints and maintenance requests promptly and effectively… until the manager for my complex retired.

They replaced the manager with a young guy, fresh out of college with an MBA (which he loved to remind his tenants of). He looked down on us working tenants, he failed to maintain the grounds, he ignored maintenance requests, and he frequently had loud, drunken, parties, flooded with other youth, at night in his manager’s apartment that could be heard all across the complex. He was a bad manager.

Now, like most contractors, my truck is my life. I have a sticker on my truck that says it’s legal to part in the apartment lot. One day, out of the blue, my truck got towed. The reason on the tow slip was listed as “no sticker”. But the sticker was fully visible in the picture that the manager took to prove that there wasn’t a sticker.

I grumbled, got my truck back, and complained to the property manager. I was not reimbursed for the improper tow. Two weeks later, it happened again. This time, I went over the manager’s head and complained to corporate.

After that, my truck got towed every. Single. Day. Sometimes multiple times in one day. I missed work because of it getting towed, and I started getting very worried about getting a reputation for being a flake.

I didn’t let that go on for very long before I decided to do something about it. With my cellphone, I went into the office and complained to the manager. He said he was doing it on purpose to “teach me a lesson” for complaining to corporate headquarters. I frankly didn’t expect him to be so brazen about it; I was only hoping to get a (probably false) promise that he wouldn’t do it again, so I could prove that he was aware.

I went to the police with this admission. I also sent a copy to corporate, as had been my original plan. About three days later, the police arrived at the complex and arrested the manager. 

I don’t know what happened to him after that, but watching him being dragged away in handcuffs wriggling around like he was trying to get loose while being frogmarched by one cop on either side of him made me feel very warm inside.

A few days after the arrest, we had a new manager — a middle-aged woman who smoked like a chimney — and corporate refunded me for all the tow fees I’d had to pay this entire time. The new woman started her tenure by sending repairmen to fix all the issues that the old manager had ignored.