Please note that at the time of this story I was running on hope and caffeine, and had been awake for thirty hours, so some details might have changed due to my recollection.

It is the winter of 2018. I work at a call center for a power and natural gas company. The worst polar vortex storm the state has seen in ages hits us, with temperatures frequently hitting -25 or below for over a week.

Even the waffle houses closed; waffle houses are so reliable FEMA uses something called “the waffle house index” to rate disasters!

I was living close enough to work that they called me in a few times and all hours of the day over the weeks because the number of people who could arrive safely is small.

At the beginning, our queue could be over 500 people. By day three it is mostly just shouting that we need to reconnect their power before anyone else because of any number of reasons, none of which changed the reality that we couldn’t do that. The power grid is like a vascular system. If the end of the line isn’t getting blood it isn’t because the immediate juncture is stopped up. This is compounded by weather and reconnection surges frying an entire second batch of equipment and causing a second wave of outages.

Me: *Taking a call* “Thank you for calling [Power Company], my name is [My Name]; how may I help you today?”

Caller: “I’m not sure you can help, please let me know if you need to get a supervisor. My name is [Caller’s Name] and I am with [Major cellular company]. We donate facilities to be used as 911 relays and switchboards, and the 911 branch in Minnesota town has a problem. See, we have generators and fuel, but only enough for 86 hours. We are currently at about 76 hours without power. We have a fuel delivery being made on an emergency basis tomorrow after they will have been out of power for about 90 hours. With this weather, we need to remain active so our last-ditch hope was to contact you guys and see what can be done.”

I am staring blankly at the address search screen trying to process this.

Me: “Well… let me put you on hold for just a second, I want to see if we have a protocol for… this. Can I get the address of your building?”

Caller: “Oh yeah, absolutely, ask around! Anything that may help. Our address is [Very Minnesota road in very mid-west town].”

At this point, I just mute and ask the girl next to me what the h*** I do. The supervisors are beyond busy, sometimes even taking calls themselves, but she had worked there for six years and just gave me a blank stare for a moment.

Supervisor: “Huh, that’s new, call dispatch I guess. It is an emergency. Several actually.”

I hop on the line, check to make sure an order to investigate the outage is already there, check-in with the caller and get his callback line, all that, then call dispatch.

Dispatch: “Dispatch, what’s the issue?”

Me: “So I know we don’t prioritize who gets reconnected b—”

Dispatch: “Ya d*** right we don’t!”

Me: “Yes I understand that, but I have a fellow from 911 on my line. He says they’ve exhausted their options for keeping the lights on themselves. They won’t get fuel for the generator until they’ve been offline for several hours. That town was hit some of the worst, the last thing they need is to not be able to contact emergency services.”

There is a long pause.

Dispatch: “Okay, I need to put you on hold.”

I hear a bunch of shouting into different rooms because he didn’t put me on hold or even mute me. The dispatcher’s boss gets on the line.

Dispatch Boss: “This is [Dispatch Boss], I hear you’ve got 911 on your line?”

We go back and forth, I bring the cell rep into the call and hop around in the system getting our protocol stuff done, and letting my team lead know what’s going on. I never heard about the issue again, so I have to assume it worked out.

Honestly, I think that dispatch actually giving a hoot was more surreal than being called by 911. Those guys always sound like every request you make is like squeezing lemon juice in their eyes.

On a warm summer’s day:

Customer: “Hey! Why aren’t these drinks colder?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid this store is subject to the laws of thermodynamics.”

Customer: “Well, there’s no need to be a jobsworth!”

A few years back, a minor earthquake hit the military installation in the USA I was at. The epicenter was a considerable distance away, and all we felt was a one-time, minor jolt. This was not a typical earthquake area at all. I knew immediately what it was since I’d been stationed in Japan. I did not expect any damage, nor was there any at any location near us. I’ve felt worse jolts from controlled detonations, honestly. Unless a building was already falling down, there wasn’t going to be damage. Damage usually comes from back-and-forth or worse, waves in the earth.

I was not amused to see everyone doing everything you are not supposed to do in an earthquake: panicking, running outside, etc. I kept my people calm and collected and we went back to work. I was even less amused when we got an “emergency” call from the airfield control tower demanding we send out a structural engineer to certify that their building was safe after the quake. Now, I’ve seen fourteen-story control towers or temporary structures where that this might have been warranted but this one was maybe two stories tall and solidly built. My apartment block was higher.

We told them that we were not sending out damage assessment teams and asked if they could see any damage. Their response was to threaten to close down the airfield and that we could explain to the wing commander why his aircraft couldn’t land. We asked if they could see any damage. No, of course not.

Of course, the real explanation to the wing commander for that closure would be that his tower panicked, failed to follow any of the disaster checklists, and frankly needed to pull their heads out of their butts because such a reaction in combat will get you or others killed. The military trains for combat and other emergencies. Their reaction was not acceptable. And, if there hadn’t been planes on their way in, that is exactly the answer I would have happily given to them or the wing commander.

We didn’t have a structural engineer, and since our enlisted men and women whose jobs it was to do damage assessment and were extensively trained on that were plainly were not good enough, so we sent out our very-near-retirement mechanic. He was seventy-five if a day and used a walker. He showed up, eased out of his car, got his walker out, shuffled ten feet toward the building, and slowly looked it up and down. He told the evacuated personnel that he certified it was safe, shuffled back to his car, and left a pretty embarrassed-looking group to go back to work. 

I don’t know what happened to the lieutenant who was the shift lead and who made the call. I do know I never saw him again.

Customer: “Oh, it’s such a beautiful day out there!”

Me: “So I’ve heard.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, I guess you’re stuck in here. Are you off tomorrow?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Oh, good. Then it’ll probably nice tomorrow, too!”

Me: “Haha, you’re funny.”

Customer: “Are you working the weekend?”

Me: “No, I’m off this weekend, so it’ll probably be crappy weather.”

Customer: “Aww, shucks.”

Me: “But I work weekends for the next month, so you’re in luck!”

That’s the first time a customer has made me smile when mentioning great weather while I’m stuck working.

I work in a children’s museum that has a large event every year that involves snow.

Me: “Hi, thanks for calling [Museum]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “What time is the snow event open tomorrow?”

Me: “Ten to five every day; do you have any other questions?”

Customer: “Is it real snow?”

Me: “Yes, we have real snow.”

Customer: “Tell me, is it wet? Is it really cold, too?”

Me: “Have you ever visited anywhere where it snows? Big Bear or another destination like that?”

Customer: “Yes, but that wasn’t real snow!”

Related:
Snow Way They’re That Dumb