I was a Duty Officer during fire season back when we issued burning permits from the office. (This process is now online and centralized.) The permits were given out with the understanding that they could be cancelled at any time due to changing conditions. 

We had daily weather briefings, and one came along with storms and strong winds developing in the next few days. We put announcements out on the radio that all burning was suspended and any current burns were to be extinguished. We also got on the phone and called the permit holders.

Everyone was very cooperative until I called one company that was doing some land clearing. The fellow was very arrogant and said words to this effect:

Employee: “No g**d*** government employee is going to tell me what to do!”

No need to get worked up on my end. I simply informed him of the relevant legislation requiring him to comply, the fines for not complying, the rough costs he would be assigned if his fire got away, and the likelihood of legal action from surrounding property owners.

Me: “Finally, sir, you should know that I have several fire crews, helicopters, bulldozers, and water trucks on call, and as soon as I hang up, I will be dispatching a suitable workforce to ensure that your fires are out. You will get the full bill, and you will be unlikely to be granted a permit in the future.”

He got quiet for a bit and grumbled that he would have his crews on it.

This is a story my mom told me that happened when she was in college and lived in a trailer park. Just to head off the comments, I don’t want to get into a discussion about whether what she said was RIGHT. (She clearly thought so, but we don’t always agree.) I just thought this was FUNNY.

On a Sunday morning in winter, Mom woke up to discover that the heating in her trailer wasn’t working and the trailer was already uncomfortably cold. Her landlord did his own maintenance, so she called his number and got his wife, the landlady.

Mom: “My heater’s gone out and I’m freezing. Can [Landlord] please come fix it?”

Landlady: “He’ll come out Monday afternoon. He doesn’t work on Sundays.”

Mom: “I wouldn’t ask him to, normally, but this is an emergency.”

Landlady: *Snottily* “You’ll just have to wait. My husband doesn’t work on the Lord’s day.”

Mom: “It’s below freezing outside and my heater doesn’t work. You tell your husband that if he isn’t here fixing it in the next hour, I’m going to start a fire to keep warm. And remind him that this trailer doesn’t have a fireplace.”

He was there within an hour.

It’s Christmas weekend in 2022, and I’m visiting my parents’ home from out of state. It’s unusually cold across most of the continental United States, and temperatures in this town have dropped to an unprecedented low of three to five degrees Fahrenheit.

My parents have two brother cats who love to wander outside, but the weather is too cold for them. One of their cats is sitting by the sliding glass door waiting to be let out again.

Mom: “It’s too cold. You’re not going to like it.”

The cat sits and looks at my mom expectantly

Mom: “You’re just going to come right back inside.”

The cat looks outside and then back up at my mom.

Mom: *Giving up* “All right.”

She opens the door and lets the cat out, shutting the door immediately as a blast of arctic air rushes into the living room. She stands there and watches the cat. He walks about two feet from the door and sits down, looking around. Seconds later, the cat gets up and walks back to the door. My mom opens the door again and the cat rushes inside and runs into another room.

Mom: “They’ve been doing that since yesterday, but their stupid little cat brains can’t remember that it’s really cold outside!”

CONTENT WARNING: Child Abuse

A customer comes into my bank one day in mid-August and tries to cash a check. Said check looks like it was written by a four-year-old. We go through the protocol as mandated by our organization, calling the issuer and verifying all data.

While we are going through this procedure, the woman goes off on a tantrum. She’s ripping the little pens with chains from the little desks, throwing deposit slips around, demanding to speak to the president of the bank, and verbally abusing all the employees. Likewise, she looks to have done enough speed to stay up for a week straight.

We are finally able to get ahold of the issuer of the check, and lo and behold, it’s a good check!

We cash it and thank her for her patience.

As she’s storming out cursing, two officers walk in. She has her car keys in her hand.

Officer: “Are you the owner of the [color] [Car] in the parking lot?”

Customer: “Yes? So what?”

Officer: “There’s a small child in your car. They don’t look older than two. They’ve been locked inside for more than twenty minutes — in August.”

Customer: “I… I’m on my way to him now!”

Officer: “Too late. Some good people called us, broke your car window, and rescued your kid. You’re under arrest.”

I hope to God that that little kid has found a new home or that their mom has cleaned up her act.

During a cold snap in the southeast, I am driving a company truck from one facility to the other in order to do some work there. It is about 9:00 pm, as I work the overnight shift, and it is raining a bit. I think I can handle the drive, as I’m a Georgia native and don’t think it looks that bad.

It turns out there is a black ice warning that I missed before we headed out. With my supervisor in the passenger seat, I’m driving a few miles below the speed limit, and I am getting passed as a result, even on roads where passing shouldn’t be allowed.

I’m a few car lengths behind a semi-truck on a four-lane highway with water spraying back onto my windshield when the semi starts to slide back and forth. My supervisor starts cursing, but I very calmly take my foot off the gas, letting the truck slow down on its own while the semi-truck in front of us jackknifes, swerving across all four lanes, crashing into a guard rail. It nearly tips over but finally comes to a stop and, luckily, it doesn’t hit any other cars.

Once the road is clear of the wrecked semi, I keep driving, but at about half the speed I was before the semi started sliding.

After a few minutes of staring at me, the supervisor speaks up.

Supervisor: “Are you okay? You’re surprisingly calm.”

I’m feeling a bit shaky after the fact.

Me: “Nah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Supervisor: “Jesus, you didn’t even blink when the truck spun out.”

Me: “Well, sure. What was panicking going to accomplish? That being said, can I pull into this parking lot up here?”

My supervisor agreed under the circumstances, and I pulled into an empty parking lot since the full weight of what almost happened was hitting me and I started shaking a bit.

He was surprised when I insisted on driving the rest of the way, since we were almost at our destination anyway, after only a few minutes to calm down.