911 dispatchers, what was a time you had to contain your laughter?

911 dispatchers, what was a time you had to contain your laughter?

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Nine, dispatchers, what was the time you had contained your
laughter story one. It was a warm Sunday afternoon at
the park. Kids were playing, people were walking their dogs,
and the air smelled faintly of fresh grass. But in
one corner of the park a woman was fuming. Her
special bench, the one she always sat on to read
her book and sipper coffee, was occupied. A man she

(00:23):
didn't know was sitting there, completely relaxed, enjoying the shade.
For most people, this would be a big deal, but
for her, this was her bench. She had claimed it
in her mind years ago, and seeing someone else in
her spot was apparently too much to handle. Without a
second thought, she pulled out her phone and.

Speaker 2 (00:40):
Dialed nine to one one.

Speaker 1 (00:42):
Yes, I need an officer to come to park immediately,
she said, her voice sharp. There's a man sitting on
my bench and refusing to move. The dispatcher paused for
a moment, probably wondering if this was some kind of joke. Then,
in a calm voice, they explained, ma'am, nine one one
is for emergency only. This is not a police matter.

(01:02):
Mischoosing nine to one one is against the law. She
hung up, but a few minutes later she called again,
and then again three times in total, all because of
that one bench. By the third call, I imagine the dispatcher
was taking deep breaths to keep their patients. They warned
her again about the law and how serious it was
to make false emergency calls. I never did hear what

(01:24):
happened to her, but I have a strong feeling she
got a hefty fine and probably a few strange looks
from the officers who eventually heard the story. Meanwhile, the
man on the bench, he just kept sitting there, enjoying
the sunshine, completely unaware that it accidentally sparked a park
bench crime saga. Story two. We had this one lady
who would call our emergency line on a regular basis.

(01:46):
The thing was, her phone wasn't even connected to a
real service plan. Somehow she could still call nine one one,
but we could never get her exact location from the
phone or from her, so we could never send anyone
to check on her.

Speaker 2 (02:00):
He was, let's just.

Speaker 1 (02:01):
Say, very unpredictable. Every call was like stepping into a
completely different world. One night, it was especially quiet in
the dispatch center, so when she called, a bunch of
us who weren't busy clicked into line just to listen in.
She was going on one of her long, intense rants,
totally in her own world. The call taker speaking with
her was one of the kindest, most patient people you

(02:23):
could ever meet. At one point, the call taker asked
her where she lived. Without missing a beat, the woman
proudly replied, I live on Sesame Street. And here's the
best part. Without even pausing, The call taker responded in
the most cheerful voice, well, ma'am, can you tell me
how to get a Sesame Street? We completely lost it.
Thank goodness for noise canceling microphones, because our side of

(02:46):
the room sounded like a comedy club at that moment.
Later that morning, she called back again. This time things
took an even stranger but hilarious turn. Somehow we ended
up singing Schoolhouse Rock with her over phone. It was random,
it was ridiculous, and it was honestly one of the
funniest moments I've ever had at work. We never did

(03:06):
figure out where she was calling from or what her
real situation was. I just hope that wherever she is now,
she's safe and getting the help she needs, because for
a little while she turned our quiet night into something
unforgettable story.

Speaker 2 (03:19):
Three.

Speaker 1 (03:20):
One night, we got a call from a manager at
a local bowling alley. They sounded stressed like something serious
had happened. I'm expecting to hear about an accident, a fight,
or maybe even a building problem, but nope, the emergency
was that their ice machine had stopped working. It's a
really busy night, the manager said urgently. If someone doesn't
come out to fix it right now, there will be

(03:41):
no cold drinks. They were clearly treating this like a
crisis of national importance. I had to explain as politely
as possible that a broken ezed machine is not exactly
an emergency situation. You could almost hear the disappointment in
their voice when they realized we weren't sending anyone out immediately.
Guests for them warm sodas on league night were basically

(04:03):
a disaster. Story four. One afternoon, I got a call
from a woman with a very unusual request. She wanted
to know if we could at one of our units
house sit for her while she went on vacation for
a week. At first I thought maybe she was joking,
but no, she was completely serious. I explained politely that
we don't do that if she needed someone to watch

(04:24):
her house, she'd have to hire a professional house sitter
or ask a family member. That's when she got frustrated.
She started huffing and puffing into the phone, say I
didn't understand what she meant. She went on to clarify
she simply wanted one of our people to stay in
her home, watch her dogs, and make sure no one
broke in, you know, as an off duty side job.
Once again, I told her we don't do off duty

(04:46):
work in civilian home. She didn't like that answer. She
hung up on me, clearly annoyed that I wouldn't arrange
your personal vacation, security and pet care. To this day,
I still think about it and laugh. Some people's definition
of normal requests is something else entirely story five. To
be fair, and I'm not saying she wasn't being unreasonable.

(05:06):
In some communities like mine, you could actually request drive
bys when you're out of town, an office who will
swing by her house once a day or so, just
to check for any obvious signs of trouble, like a
broken window or a door left open. So maybe she'd
heard about something like that but didn't quite understand what
it actually meant. Then again, it's just as likely she
was simply a little out of touch with reality. Either way,

(05:29):
it still makes me laugh. Story six. I used to
code ambulance runs for billing, which meant I had to
read all the reports that came in. And let me
tell you, I've seen some strange cases, but my all time,
what on Earth favorite was one patient whose main complaint was,
let's say, bleeding from a very private area. When the
crew got them to the ambulance, they discovered a reason

(05:50):
the patient's partner had for reasons that are still a
complete mystery to me, somehow managed to get a rather
large vegetable lodge and a place vegetables are definitely not
meant to go. And when I say large, I mean
bigger than my fist. The bleeding that was from several
failed attempts to remove it at home using various household tools.
When nothing worked, they finally decided to call nine to

(06:12):
one one and let the professionals handle it. I still
have no idea how the EMTs kept a straight face
through that whole situation. I would have absolutely lost it.
Story seven. When I was brand new on the job,
I got a call one night from a very intoxicated man.
He was at a bar in a small rural town
and I was just trying to figure out exactly where
he was. I asked him what was going on, you know,

(06:34):
the usual questions to get the details, and he suddenly
burst out in the most dramatic, crying voice. I don't
know what that means. I was not prepared for that
at all. I had to quickly mute my microphone because
I could feel myself losing it. But he didn't just
say it once, oh No, every single time I try
to get more information, he'd repeat it, even more drawn

(06:54):
out and emotional than before. I don't know what that median,
followed by more sobbing. I mean, I get not knowing
your exact location when you've had a bit too much
to drink, but this guy turned it into a full
Shakespeare level tragedy. In the end, he was fine, just
very plastered and extremely in his feelings. Story eight. I'm
on shift right now, and a few hours ago we

(07:15):
got to call about multiple gunshots in the area.

Speaker 2 (07:18):
Pretty serious stuff.

Speaker 1 (07:19):
Right well, I'm reading through the call notes and one
line absolutely got me unknown who shut the gun?

Speaker 2 (07:25):
Yep?

Speaker 1 (07:26):
One little typo completely changed mood I probably shouldn't laugh
as much as I did, but after hours on the job,
that was exactly the kind of slip up that can send.

Speaker 2 (07:36):
You over the edge.

Speaker 1 (07:37):
I had a pretty good chuckle before getting back to
business story nine. Back when I was a dispatcher, one
of the funniest moments I remember started as a simple
typo from a call taker. Our city has a big bridge,
and if there's debris or any kind of hazard on it,
we have to send officers out with lights and sirens
to get it clear before someone hits it and calls
as an accident. One day, a call came in about

(07:58):
a hazard on a bridge. The call taker entered it
into the system as a buck in the roadway. Now
we do have deer in the area, but not in
the middle of the city and definitely not standing on
the bridge.

Speaker 2 (08:09):
Usually.

Speaker 1 (08:10):
Still, it was enough to get a bunch of officers
who were free at the time, jumping on the radio
all excited about the call. While they rushed over, I
was trying to get clarification the big reveal it wasn't
a buck, it was the bucket. The disappointment in their
voices over the radio when I confirmed it was priceless
and just a little heartbreaking. Later, when I moved a

(08:31):
crime scene, I got sent to one of the strangest
burglary calls I've ever seen. Someone had broken into a
house but didn't steal anything. Instead, they heated up boxes
of hot pockets and then left the food scattered around
the place. No theft, no vandalism, just a very confused
homeowner and a bunch of abandoned snacks.

Speaker 2 (08:49):
Story ten.

Speaker 1 (08:50):
This was a nine to one to one call, but
our dispatch once got a very unique request. A woman
called in genuinely concerned about her friend. She said she
hadn't him in a while and his farm wasn't being
kept up. She'd even had to go in and harvest
crops and feed the animals herself. Naturally, this sounded serious
at first until she explained the farm was in Farmville

(09:12):
on Facebook. Yep, this was someone she only knew through
an online game, and she was trying to get real
world help for a virtual farm. I'll admit it's one
of the most memorable false alarms I've ever heard of.
Story eleven. One night, a call came in from a
guy driving down a backcountry road. He was chasing another
vehicle because, according to him, the teenagers in that car

(09:34):
had thrown something at him and hit him right in
the head. I asked what they threw, expecting to hear
a soda can or maybe a rock, But no, he
told me it was the block of cheese, not a slice,
not shredded a block. I had to confirm it with
him multiple times just to be sure I wasn't mishearing,
but yep, he swore it was a solid block of cheese.

(09:54):
When a dispatcher put out over the radio, two officers
and even the sheriff called in the double check that
we had actually said block of cheese.

Speaker 2 (10:02):
We had.

Speaker 1 (10:03):
And here's the kicker. This happened in California, not Wisconsin.
So now my biggest question is who drives around with
a spare block of cheese just waiting to be used
as a projectile. Story twelve. I used to work in
the er for a couple of years, and let's just
say people come in with some very unusual personal mishaps.
One pattern I noticed when it was women with an

(10:24):
intimate product problem, they often came in with their partner,
but when it was men, they were almost always alone.
One of the funniest situations involved a couple who came
in because a piece of an item had gotten stuck.
As a woman was being taken for an X ray,
her boyfriend casually told the nurse, yeah, I even try
to spoon in a straw, while using hand gestures that

(10:46):
made the explanation way more descriptive than necessary. Then there
was one of the bigger what on Earth moments. A
man came in by himself and explained that after a
week in a party with some women. Keep in mind,
this was already Thursday, they put eggs one where eggs
absolutely shouldn't go, and he thought one might have cracked.
I still have so many questions. Story thirteen. Some calls

(11:07):
stick with you forever, usually the wild ones you couldn't
make up if you tried. It all started with guy
who had been chewing cinnamon gum. Sounds innocent enough, right,
except instead of just freshening his breath, he decided to
get created with his girlfriend. Within seconds, she was screaming
in the background, and he was frantically explaining the situation
to us. I honestly couldn't decide which was funnier, his

(11:29):
panic play by play or her very vocal reaction. Not
long after, we got a much more alarming call from
a woman about her boyfriend, same guy this time. She
said he was having another manic episode and try to
put knives where knives definitely do not belong. That one
was more oh my gosh and funny, but it was
definitely memorable. And then, just when I thought I'd heard

(11:51):
the last of nim, he called back a few days later.
His voice was low, almost whispering. It was clear he was,
let's say, not in ten highly sober. Hey, he said,
dragging out the words, I was shaving and I cut
my yiiner. Then he started laughing at his own story.
I've taken a lot of calls over the years, but
that little trilogy, Cinnamon, Gum, Knives and Shaving Mishaps will

(12:15):
forever live rent free in my brain. Story fourteen. I'm
the one who actually called nine to one one for this,
but I'm pretty sure everyone from the dispatch it to
the doctors found it hilarious. It all started with a
spider on the ceiling. I hate spiders, so I begged
my mom to deal with it. She grabbed something to
swat it and climbed onto a chair like a hero
going into battle. She took a swing, hit the spider

(12:38):
and it fell right onto the door. Victory, right, Nope,
she stepped off the chair and instantly fracture her foot
in four places. So now I'm on the phone calling
for help, and when we get to hospital, every single
nurse and doctor is trying not to laugh. And the
worst part, the spider, the cause of all this chaos,
still survived. Story fifteen. My wife asked me to take

(13:00):
down the curtains in our bedroom. I was running late
that morning, so I told her I'll do it when
I get home. Apparently that wasn't soon enough. She grabbed
a chair and decided to do it herself. Unfortunately, the
chair toppled and she ended up wedds between the bed
and the bedside cabinet. She hurt her back and couldn't move,
but thankfully she brought the phone down with her and

(13:22):
managed to call nine nine to nine. When the ambulance
crew arrived, they opened the door, only to be met
by our very large, very protective German shepherd, so they
called the police. The police sent a dog handler, who
managed the lure our shepherd into another bedroom and closed
the door. That solved one problem, but then they realized
they couldn't get my wife down the stairs safely, so

(13:44):
they called in the fire brigade. Meanwhile, I was out
on a job and completely unreachable. When I finally got back,
my boss greeted me with it would have been cheaper
to just get the fire brigade to take the curtains
down in the first place.

Speaker 2 (13:57):
Story sixteen.

Speaker 1 (13:58):
I'm not a dispatcher, but I think I'd have a
really hard time keeping a straight face with some of
the stories you hear from the er.

Speaker 2 (14:05):
You know, the ones.

Speaker 1 (14:06):
People who claim they fell on something while cleaning without
clothes and now it's somehow stuck in a place it
definitely shouldn't be. And the objects they're always bizarre. I mean,
a buzz light, your figure really to infinity and beyond?
I guess Story seventeen. This one's not my story. It
happened to a very good friend of mine. I can't
give too many details because of her nda, but I

(14:29):
can share the important takeaway. Don't use titanium rings. Not
the kind you wear on your finger, the other kind.
Apparently someone had decided to spice up their evening with
a little online purchase. The problem is, titanium is strong,
really strong, and unlike cheaper materials, it doesn't bend, flex
or let go easily, which is great if you're talking

(14:51):
about aerospace engineering, not so great if you're talking about
this long story short. The ring went on without an issue.
Coming off, however, was another matter entirely que a very
awkward trip to r Now, titanium doesn't just pop off
with a quick tug or a dab of soap. The
staff had to call maintenance, yes, maintenance, to bring in

(15:13):
a specialized tool to cut the thing off, and because
it was titanium, they had to go very slowly, making
sure not to nick anything important in the process. My
friend told me that everyone in the room was doing
that professional, polite, keep a straight face thing, But the
minute the patient was wheeled out, the nurses burst into
the kind of laughter you can only have once the
dangerous passed. The whole ordeal took hours, The patient left

(15:36):
with the story they will never live down. The staff
got a tail they'll be telling in the break.

Speaker 2 (15:40):
Room for years.

Speaker 1 (15:41):
And the titanium ring, let's just say, it didn't survive
the operation. Moral of the story. If you're going to experiment,
maybe stick with something less industrial. Story eighteen, Back when
I was still in training, I got a call that
I'll never forget. It was a quiet afternoon in the
calm center, the kind of day where the biggest excitement
was someone bringing in donuts. Then out of nowhere, the

(16:03):
radio crackle with a voice that wasn't one of our
usual units. A State Parks ranger had managed to jump
onto our frequency. His voice was low but urgent. This
is ranger name redacted. I got three armed subjects at gunpoint,
possible cartel. They came in on a ponga boat loaded
with marijuana, requesting immediate backup. My trainer shot me and

(16:24):
looked like, well, here's your trial by fire. I grabbed
a pen and started taking notes, my hand flying over
the page. I got his location, the number of suspects,
their description, everything. You could hear the tension in his voice.
This wasn't just another day on the beach. He kept
feeding me details, how he'd spotted the boat, how they
tried to scatter, how he'd drawn on them and ordered

(16:45):
them to ground. The whole thing sounded like a movie scene,
the kind where you're gripping the armrest and waiting to
see what happens next, and then It happened in the
middle of his high stakes adrenaline pumping situation. His phone
went off at full volume, any ring tone, the John
Cena trumpet theme. For a split second, the entire calm's
room froze. My brain was screaming, do not laugh, do

(17:09):
not laugh. My trainer had his face buried in his sleeve,
shoulders shaking. Meanwhile over the air, this poor ranger just
keeps talking like nothing happened, trying to shout over with
the blaring ww entrance music while holding three suspected cartel
members at gunpoint on a public beach. I kept my
voice as steady as I could copy Ranger units are

(17:29):
en route, but on the inside I was absolutely losing it.
It's been years since that call, but to this day,
whenever I hear that John Cena theme, I don't think
about wrestling. I think about one of the most high
tension and unintentionally hilarious calls my career story. Nineteen one night,
right in the middle of an otherwise quiet shift, I

(17:50):
got a call on an emergency line nine one one.
What's your emergency, I asked, expecting the usual, maybe a
medical issue, a car accident, something urgent. Instead, A woman's
voice came through, slow and a little dreamy. Yes, I
need an ambulance. I kept my tone, calm, okay, tell
me what's going on. There was a long pause. Then

(18:11):
she said, very seriously, I I took two of my
son's cannabis gummies on an empty stomach, and now I
feel like I'm floating in slow motion. I'm already working
very hard keep a straight face. But then she adds, also,
I'd like you to send the police to arrest me.
At this point, I'm caught somewhere between concern for her
well being and the urge to laugh. I start asking

(18:33):
standard follow up questions heart rate, breathing, any chest pain.
When I hear another voice and background. It's her son,
and he sounds done like you can hear years of
teenage exasperation condensed into one moment. Mom, you didn't seriously
call nine to one one, for the love of God,
hang up the phone.

Speaker 2 (18:52):
You're fine.

Speaker 1 (18:53):
She ignores him, entirely, speaking into the receiver as though
he's not even there. Don't listen to him. I need help.
I think time has stopped. Meanwhile, her son keeps pleading
with her in the background, his voice getting higher with disbelief.
Oh my god, you're embarrassing me. You just ate edibles.
You're fine, drink some water. By the end of the call,

(19:14):
she was calm enough that we didn't actually have a
sin a ambulance, just a recommendation for her to lie down,
have some water, and maybe avoid rating her son's stash
in the future. I can only imagine how awkward that
family conversation was once she came back down to earth,
especially if her son decided to start keeping his snacks
in a lock box. Story twenty Back in college, I

(19:35):
once made a nine to one to one dispatcher stifle laugh,
and honestly, I don't blame them. A friend of mine
had gone to a party and didn't realize he'd eaten
pop brownies. He'd never tried anything like that before, so
when it hit him, he had no clue what was happening.
He somehow made it back to our residence hall knocked
on my door, and the first thing he did was
take his shirt off and say, feel my heart. Is

(19:56):
it beating for you? I think there's a maggot in
there hitting me. I'm just standing there, like, are you
having a stroke? I called nine to one one and
While I'm talking to dispatcher, he's in the background rambling
about how my popcorn ceiling isn't really popcorn, but if
we heeded the room maybe the pieces would pop. Then
he gets right up behind me and says, don't tell

(20:17):
my mom if I die, she'll be sad. The dispatcher
is trying and keep things professional, but I can hear
the muffled laugh that my friend suddenly lets out this
dramatic oh new, like he's in a bad soap opera.
By this point, I'm starting to piece together that he
probably just took something without realizing it, and the dispatcher
finally says, okay, ask him if he's eating anything unusual

(20:38):
that night. Will forever live rent free in my memory
story twenty one. This one isn't technically my story, but
it's about my best friend who's a dispatcher, and it
still cracks me up every time I think about it.
Back then, I pretty much knew every cop in town.
Even the chief was a regular at our house because
it often swing by for lunch or dinner. We lived

(20:58):
in a small community where wasn't exactly booming, so it
wasn't unusual for weeks sometimes even months to pass without
a single major call. When things were slow, the officers
would just hang out with us, grab a bite, and
enjoy a little downtime. One day, my mom heard it
had been especially quiet. The guys were about to wrap
up their shifts without a single incident, no calls, no

(21:21):
traffic stops, nothing. My mom, being the kind hearted troublemaker
she is, decided that simply wouldn't do. So she picked
up the phone dial nine to eleven and in the calmest,
most casual voice, said, yeah, I got brownies. Just thought
you all should know now. Nine to one one calls
are supposed to be for emergencies, but apparently freshly baked

(21:41):
brownies from a woman they all adored qualified. Within minutes,
the patrol cars were pulling up outside, lights flashing just
enough to make the neighbors peek out their windows, only
to see a group of uniformed officers piling into our
kitchen like kids of bake sale. About a year later,
she did it again, but this time the chief decided
to make it a little more fun. He told her,

(22:02):
next time you call, we'll give you a ride along.
My mom didn't need telling twice. She called, offered up
another batch of her famous brownies, and sure enough they
showed up not just a dessert, but to whistle off
in the back of the police car for a quick
tour of the town. Not exactly what the nine to
one to one system was designed for, but I'm willing
to bet it's still one of the sweetest calls they've

(22:23):
ever taken. Story twenty two. I've told this story before,
but it's one of those calls you never forget. I
was still in training when I answered a nine to
one to one call from a man who had just
found his brother dead from a self inflicted injury. He
was surprisingly calm when he said, I just found my
brother and he shot himself in the head. I repeated

(22:44):
what he said to my trainer, who was mid conversation
with a deputy, without missing a beat. My trainer looked
at me and said, aw, you just got your first suicide.
Like it was some kind of ride of passage. The timing,
the delivery. I almost lost it. I had to buy
my tongue to keep from laughing so the caller wouldn't
hear me. We send deputies and medics and they confirmed

(23:05):
the situation. It was just one of those moments where
the seriousness of the job and the dark humor that
comes with it collided. Another unforgettable one was a call
from a gas station tendant. They said there was a
man in the parking lot with an injury in a
very private area. While I was trying to stay professional
on the phone, I caught sight of a deputy making

(23:25):
a ridiculous hand gesture out corner of my eye, and
that nearly broke me. Turns out, the man and his
girlfriend were living in a tent nearby. They'd been experimenting
with a cucumber, but things didn't go as planned. He moved,
suddenly it broke, and they couldn't get it out. That's
how a trip to the gas station turned into a
very awkward emergency call story. Twenty three years ago, when

(23:48):
I was working as a fire dispatcher, I took what
started as a pretty routine call about a house fire,
but it ended up becoming one of my favorite memories
on the job. The guy on the other end was
clearly rattled. You could hear the urgency in his voice,
the kind that makes you instinctively sit up straighter and
focus flames smoke. The whole situation sounded bad. Of course,

(24:08):
I went into autopilot with a standard protocol, confirm the address,
confirm if anyone's inside, find out what's burning, how fast
it's spreading. But as I worked to the checklist, I
could hear him getting more and more worked up, like
each question was just one more hurdle between him and
the sweet sound of sirens in the distance. His answer
started getting shorter and faster. Yeah, yes, uh huh, like

(24:32):
he was willing me to skip straight to the part
where help was already halfway there. I was about to
wrap up when instead of usual please hurry or just
get here, he suddenly yelled, in the most intense, street
level sincerity I've ever heard, send the fire trucks, homie.
I had to clamp down hard on my instinct to laugh,
because professionalism is key. But in my head, I was

(24:53):
picturing the scene this guy pacing in his driveway, smoke
building behind him, talking to the fire department. He was
calling him back up in an action movie. We sent
the units, of course, and everything was handled. But to
this day, anytime I hear a siren, a tiny part
of me remembers that moment, and I can't help a
grin the thought of someone out there still telling his
friends about the time he called nine to one one

(25:15):
and told the fire dispatcher send the fire trucks. Homie
story twenty four. I've taken plenty of calls over the
years at Fade for memory, routine, stuff that blends together.
But then there are the calls that etch themselves into
your brain for all the wrong and hilariously awkward reasons.
The first one still makes me shake my head. A
man had walked all the way to a payphone to report,

(25:36):
let's just say, a very personal emergency. He had an
object lodge somewhere it absolutely did not belong, and he
needed medical help. Naturally, I asked the obvious question, why
didn't he just call off his home phone. His answer
was delivered in a whisper, as though someone might overhear
us across the empty parking lot. I don't want the
ambulance crew to know where I live. So there he was,

(25:58):
in public, making a situation far more complicated and far
more memorable than it ever needed to be. I remember thinking, sir,
I think that ship sail when you walk three blocks
with secret you can't sit down on. Then there was
a woman who called in sounding absolutely miserable. She explained
she hadn't been able to well go for several days
and she was starting to panic. I stayed calm, asked

(26:21):
a few questions, and she assured me she really did
want an ambulance. And then mid sentence, it happened nature
finally decided to cooperate. There was a pause, a noise
that I will spare you the details of, and then
a sigh of pure relief. She came back on the line,
cheerful now and said, oh, never mind, I don't need
you anymore. And then she hung up. Two completely different calls,

(26:43):
both ending in ways I did not expect, and both
leave me sitting there, headset still on, staring at my
console and wondering did that really just happen? Story twenty five.
Back before cell phones were a thing, my uncle had
two dogs who could best be described as furry little
masterminds of chaos. They were smart, curious, and just a
little too clever.

Speaker 2 (27:03):
For their own good.

Speaker 1 (27:04):
One day, while my uncle was at home, they managed
to pull off a stunt that no one saw coming.
They figured out how to call nine to one one.

Speaker 2 (27:12):
On the old landline phone.

Speaker 1 (27:13):
Nobody knows exactly how it happened. Maybe they were pawing
at it while chasing each other around, or maybe they
knocked off the hook and stepped on just the right
combination of buttons. Whatever the case, the first responder showed
up expecting an emergency, only be greeted by two wildly
excited dogs, tails wagging like helicopter blades, practically vibrating with
joy at the sight of new people to play with.

(27:34):
The officers gave them a little attention, laughed about the
whole thing, and left. But the dogs, oh, they took notes.
They had just discovered the ultimate life hack, dialed his
magic number, and friendly humans arrived to shower them with
pets and attention. From then on, whenever my uncle was
at work, they would find a way to knock the
phone off the hook, tap in those numbers, and wait.

(27:55):
Sure enough, at least once a day, the local dispatcher
screen would light up a familiar By that point, I
imagine the dispatchers didn't even need to ask what was
going on. They knew it was those dogs again. I
like to think the officers had a running joke about it,
deciding who would take one for the team and make
the trip out. Not because it was a burden, but
because let's face it, a midshift break, to hang out

(28:18):
with two goofy phone savvy pups is a pretty great
way to spend an afternoon story twenty six. I once
had a nine to one to one open line come in,
the kind where no one says a word of dispatcher,
but the background tells the whole story. At first, all
I heard was muffled noise, and I thought maybe it
was a pocket dial. But then the sound became very clear.

(28:38):
It didn't take long to figure out that the caller,
a young man and his lady friend, were in the
middle of what I'll politely described as a very enthusiastic
extracurricular activity. Now here's the thing. Protocol is protocol. So
I start calling out into the line, this is nine
to one one, Can you hear me? Is there an emergency? Nothing?
Just more background audio. I tried several times, hoping maybe

(29:03):
one of them would hear a phone and pick up. Nope,
either they couldn't hear me or they were otherwise occupied.
At that point, I had no choice. By the book,
an open line with no verbal contact means we have
to send someone to check it out. So I dispatched
a pair of officers to the location we got from
Rapid SOS. I can only imagine what was going through

(29:23):
their minds when they arrived. They knock on the door,
probably expecting anything from a medical emergency to a domestic dispute. Instead,
the door opens to two people who suddenly realize they
are standing in front of uniformed officers while still trying
to catch their breath. From what I heard later, there
was a long, awkward pause before anyone said a word.
Then came the embarrassed explanation, no emergency, no danger, just

(29:48):
a very badly timed accidental call. I still don't know
if they ever realized exactly when the phone had dial
nine to eleven, but I'm guessing they started keeping it
far far away from the bed after that night. Story
twenty seven. I was a dispatcher for about five years,
and in that time I took my fair share of
odd calls, but one stands out of my memory as
the day we all learned that some people take pastaway

(30:09):
too seriously. The line came in from a local grocery store.
The employee on the other end sounded equal parts annoyed
and bewildered. Uh Yeah, we've got a situation here. This
woman is demanding a bag of noodles, and she's not
exactly being polite about it.

Speaker 2 (30:25):
Now I'm thinking maybe.

Speaker 1 (30:27):
They're out of stock and she's upset, or there's some
coupon misunderstanding. Nope, this was a full blown Karen scenario.
According to the employee, she had marched right in, found
the pasta isle, and when she couldn't locate the bag
of noodles, she apparently had her heart set on she
lost it. She wasn't just asking, she was demanding, like
the staff had committed a crime by not producing her

(30:48):
noodles on command. And then came the kick her. She
threatened to physically kick one of the workers if they
didn't hand them over over noodles. We always try to
keep things professional on the line, but the store staff
were giving us a place by play, and between the
background yelling and the absurdity of the situation, several of
us at dispatch were quietly covering our mics to hide
our laughter. Luckily, she was so busy shouting at the

(31:10):
employees that she didn't hear a thing from our end.
The officers got there quickly, had a short chat with
her and managed to calm things down. In the end,
we didn't file any serious charges. A verbal warning was enough.
She left without her noodles, still muttering under her breath,
and from what I heard, she never came back to
that store again. All that drama, all that yelling, all

(31:31):
that righteous fury over a bag of pasta. Honestly, I
still can't walk down the noodle aisle without thinking about
it and smiling.

Speaker 2 (31:39):
Story twenty eight. Working in New Zealand.

Speaker 1 (31:41):
On the one eleven line, you get used unusual calls,
but every now and then one comes and that leaves
you wondering if you've heard it right. One afternoon, I
answered the phone and a woman's voice came through, urgent
and certain. My head's been chopped off, she said, no hesitation.
I paused for a second, thinking maybe i'd miss her
your head, I asked, yes, she replied, confidently, it's gone.

(32:05):
I started gently asking her questions where she was, if
she was hurt anywhere, if she could still talk or see.
Each answer just confirmed she still believed what she was saying.
She lived in mental health care home, and while I'd
had some odd calls before the way, she stuck to
her story. Without a single doubt. Caught me so off
guard that I had to physically bite the inside of
my cheek to stop from laughing. In my head, I

(32:27):
pictured the scene, her sitting there perfectly fine, just sure
she was missing her head. It was all I could
do to keep my voice steady. Then there was another
day that tested my professionalism in a completely different way.
I was speaking to Carla, who had a very stern,
commanding voice, the kind of tone that instantly makes you
sit up straight her. Without thinking, I addressed her as to her.

(32:50):
There was this split second of silence, and then I
realized my mistake. I'm so sorry, ma'am, I blurted out.
She didn't seem too bothered, but around me, my colleagues
were already trying not to burst out laughing. The moment
I hung up, they completely lost it. A couple even
started calling me sir for the rest of the shift,
just to rub it. In different situations, same result. Sometimes

(33:12):
in this job, it's all you can do to keep
a straight face until call ends. Story twenty nine. I
wasn't dispatcher, but I happened to be hanging around the
station one day when a call came and labeled destruction
of personal property. That's usually something like a broken window,
a damaged car, maybe a smash phone. But the second
I heard the first few lines, I knew this was

(33:32):
going to be something special. The caller's voice was already
at a fever pitch. Yeah, I'm calling regarding destruction of
personal property happening right now. You have come arrest him.
He's out of control. The dispatcher, cool as ever, went
into the standard questions, Is he on your property? We're roommates.
The guy shot back like that fact alone should have

(33:54):
been enough to trigger a swat deployment.

Speaker 2 (33:55):
Who owns the home?

Speaker 1 (33:57):
The dispatcher continued, Well, we're both renting, but he got
mad and he's destroying my belongings. The caller's voice cracked
halfway through a mix of fury and devastation. Okay, the
dispatcher said, in that calm, measured tone, tell me exactly
what happened. What is he destroying? There was a beat
of silence on the line, almost like the man was
gathering the strength to share the horror he was witnessing.

(34:18):
Then he let rip at full volume, with the kind
of raw emotion usually reserved for disaster movies. He has
my cookies. He's pouring water into my cookie jar.

Speaker 2 (34:28):
Oh my god, hurry.

Speaker 1 (34:30):
At that point, everyone in the room, dispatchers, officers, even
the sergeant, was suddenly sitting straighter in their chairs, not
because of the urgency, but because we were all choking
back laughter. You could almost hear the heartbreak through the phone.
This wasn't just about baked goods. This was betrayal. This
was the kind of cookie related tragedy you tell your

(34:50):
grandkids about someday. We never did hear what the final
resolution was, but for weeks afterward, Cold Cookie became an
inside joke at the station, and honestly so this day.
I still hope that poor guy eventually found peace and
maybe a fresh batch of cookies. Story thirty. I used
to work in elderly care and one of my clients
had dementia. She was usually calm and sweet, though sometimes

(35:13):
her imagination would run away with her. One quiet afternoon,
I stepped into the bathroom for just a moment, and
apparently that was all the time she needed to decide
there was an emergency. While I was gone, she picked
up the phone and dialed the police. When the dispatcher answered,
she told them in all seriousness that there was a
tiger in her house. Not a cat, not a strange

(35:35):
a mammal outside, an actual tiger. By the time I
came back out, the police were already pulling up in
front of the house.

Speaker 2 (35:42):
My stomach dropped.

Speaker 1 (35:43):
A tiger report wasn't something they were going to ignore,
and now I had to figure out what she had
seen that could possibly have made her think she was
in danger from a jungle predator. The officer stepped inside
and began looking around cautiously. She pointed toward the living
room window, urging them to be careful. We all walked
up and there it was, lounging on the neighbor's porch,
stretched out in the sunlight like it owned the place.

(36:05):
Was there enormous ginger cat. It was fluffy, relaxed, and
at least twenty pounds, but very much not a tiger.
I tried to explain to her that it was just
a neighbor's cat, but she wasn't buying it. In her mind,
she had just saved us all from a deadly predator,
and nothing we said was gonna change her mind. She
even thanked the officers for handling it so quickly, and

(36:26):
they to their credit, kept straight faces the entire time.
Once they left, I couldn't help but smile. It wasn't
exactly the jungle encounter she thought it was, but in
her world she just survived to brush with danger, and honestly,
I think she went to bed that night feeling like
a hero. Story thirty one. I once took a call
that still sticks with me, partly because of how it started.

(36:47):
The line clicked open, and before I could even get
past my first question what happened, the guy jumped in
with I swear it's not what it sounds like. Now.
Anytime someone starts with that, you know it's about to
be something unusual. Sure enough, he went on to explain,
in a most serious tone possible that he had been
standing on his kitchen counter without clothes, as you do,

(37:08):
he added, as if this was the most normal way
to spend an afternoon. He was apparently reaching for something
in an upper cabinet when disaster struck. He slipped, lost
his balance, and in one of those one in a
million accidents, he landed in such a way that an
entire king sized bottled dish soap ended up somewhere it
absolutely positively should not be and now it wouldn't come out.

(37:29):
I could feel my face heating up as I tried
to keep my voice calm and professional on the inside,
though I was falling apart. The mental image alone was
enough to make me want to mute my mic and
laugh until I cried. He kept insisting it's not what
it looks like, as if I were there in a
room judging him. I reassured him that accidents happened and

(37:49):
got the necessary details so help could be sent. But
the moment the call ended, I had to step away
from my desk, take a deep breath, and let out
the laugh I'd been holding in. It was one of
those stories that bread to the station record time, and
every single time someone retold they always started with this
unforgettable opening line, I swear it's not what it sounds like.

(38:09):
Story thirty two. I'm a police officer, and over the
years I've taken my fair share of strange calls and
walk into the station, but this one still makes me
laugh every time I think about it. One afternoon, a
woman walked and looking very serious, clutching her phone like
it contained the evidence of the century. She sat down
across from me and said she needed to report something suspicious.

(38:30):
She told me she'd been scrolling through Facebook when she
saw a post from an elderly woman. The post said
she was looking for someone to take care of her
money after she passed away, no details about how much,
no mention of legal documents, just as vague, too good
to be true. Off her hanging out there in the
wilds of social media. Most people would recognize as for
what it was, but not her. She decided this was

(38:53):
her big break. She sat down and wrote this long,
heartfelt message about why she was a perfect candidate. She
told me she'd gone all out, mentioned her trustworthiness, her
life experience, and even her financial skills. She made it
sound like she was applying for the most unusual job
interview of her life. Then she paused, leaned in and said,

(39:13):
completely serious. But now she's not replying anymore, and I
think was a scam. I had to bite the inside
of my cheek to keep from laughing. She had basically
applied for a scam like it was a legitimate employment opportunity,
and was only now putting the pieces together. I asked
a few clarifying questions, mostly to keep her talking while
I compose myself. It turned out. She'd spent two days

(39:35):
checking her messages waiting for the elderly lady to respond.
When nothing came, she started to worry something that happened,
or as she finally concluded that it might not have
been real. When she left, I couldn't help but imagine
the scammer on the other side reading her pitch and thinking, Wow,
she's really into this, maybe two into this. It's one
of those moments she just can't make up And I'll

(39:57):
probably be telling the Facebook in Harrodon's job at Location
story for the rest of my career Story thirty three.
One of my friends is the ultimate introvert, perfectly happy
to spend days in his own little world. His idea
of a good time is playing video games, reading thick novels,
binge watching movies, and dabbling in a bit of online
stock trading. His room had a balcony that faced the

(40:18):
back of the building toward a gully, and there was
a group of guys who seemed to hang out back
there almost every day. Over time, they got used to
seeing him on his balcony. He wasn't exactly social, but
he wasn't unfriendly either, more of a give a quick
nod and go back to what you were doing.

Speaker 2 (40:34):
Type one.

Speaker 1 (40:35):
Sunny afternoon, he stepped out onto his balcony for some
fresh air. The group down and the gully called something
up to him, maybe a greeting, maybe a question, but
whatever it was, he didn't hear it. Clearly not wanted
to see him rude. He just made some quick, random
hand gesture in reply. Then he went back inside without
thinking twice. Turns out that was a big mistake. One

(40:56):
of guys down there immediately decided he knew exactly what
the hand meant.

Speaker 2 (41:01):
In his mind.

Speaker 1 (41:01):
My friend had just given a covert distress signal, the
universal sign for I've been kidnapped and I need help.
He didn't stop the double check, didn't call up to clarify. Nope,
he went straight for his phone and dialed nine to
one one. Before my friend knew it, there were police
officers knocking at his door, ready to rescue him. He
answered the door completely relaxed in sweatpants, holding a mug

(41:24):
of coffee. The officer started asking careful, probing questions, clearly
trying to assess if he was safe. It only took
a minute for the mix up to become obvious. My
friend explained that he was just enjoying his day off,
had no idea what the hand gesture even meant, and
definitely wasn't being held hostage. The look on the officer's
faces was somewhere between relief and I can't believe we're

(41:45):
here for this. Once everyone realized it was a false alarm,
the tension broke and it turned into one of the
most awkward but also funniest conversations he'd ever had. My
friend still can't walk on to that balcony without wondering
if one of those guys is down there ready to
save him again. Story thirty four. When we were kids,
my brother had a flare for the dramatic and a

(42:07):
knack for overreacting in ways that could only end in trouble.
One afternoon, my mom told him she was going to
spank him for something he'd done. Nothing serious, just typical
kid mischief.

Speaker 2 (42:18):
But in his mind this.

Speaker 1 (42:19):
Was apparently the opening scene of a true crime special.
He ran into his bedroom, locked the door, and called
the police, not the non emergency line nine to one one.

Speaker 2 (42:29):
A little while.

Speaker 1 (42:29):
Later, two officers showed up at the house, expecting to
deal with a serious case of child abuse. Instead, they
found my brother sitting in his room, perfectly fine looking
smug that backup had arrived. My mom, meanwhile, looked like
she was two seconds away from losing her mind. You'd
think that would have been the end of it, but no,
my brother was just getting started. A few months later,

(42:52):
we stopped for gas on the way home from somewhere.
He spotted a payphone outside, and, without anyone noticing, wandered
over to it. My mom wouldn't take him the toys
are us that day, so in his brilliant kid logic,
he decided.

Speaker 2 (43:05):
To make a report.

Speaker 1 (43:06):
He called nine to one one and told him about
his emergency. I can only imagine the dispatcher's face hearing
a little kid explained that the crime was his mom
refusing to buy him toys. Looking back, I'm honestly amazed
my mom didn't just ban him from touching a phone
for the rest of his childhood. But then again, knowing
my brother, he probably would have found a way to
signal the police by smoke or carrier pigeon if he

(43:28):
had to. Story thirty five. I used to work as
an emergency dispatcher for a security company and one day
I got an alarm alert. Nothing dramatic, just a notification
that a battery needed to be replaced. I called a
number on the client account, and the second someone picked up,
I was hit with absolute chaos in the background. It
sounded like a room full of screaming kids. Me, this

(43:50):
is XYZ Security. May I speak to whoever is in
charge of your alarm system?

Speaker 2 (43:54):
Guy?

Speaker 1 (43:55):
I can't hear you, it's too loud. He's yelling at
the kids to be quiet. Try again, this is XYZ Security.
May I speak to person in charge of the alarm system? Guy, Alarm,
I don't know what you're talking about, Damien, Damien, No.
And then crash, something big broke. It sounded like a
window or a huge mirror shattering. He put the phone down,

(44:18):
so I just sat there for a few seconds, listening
to pure chaos while he yelled at Damien for breaking something.
Considering the business wasn't listed as a daycare or school,
I'm still not entirely sure what I stumbled into that
day Story thirty six. I'm not a nine to one
to one dispatcher, but I once had to call them
when I was working as a grocery department manager at
Fries down in Arizona. It started like any normal shift,

(44:41):
stocking shelves, checking orders, helping customers, until I noticed people
coming out of the restroom looking unsettled. A couple even
stopped me to say, Uh, there's something going on in there,
so I want to check. That's when I heard him.
Inside the restroom, a man was very loudly announcing to
the world just how much pain he was in wild
well trying to take care of business. He was calling

(45:02):
out for help in between groans, but every time he
offered call emergency services, he flat out refused. He seemed
equally determined to both suffer and make sure everyone in
the building knew about it. The assistance store manager came
in to see what all the fuss was about. One
of the employees started explaining, but she just looked skeptical,
like there was no way it could be as weird

(45:23):
as it sounded. That's when I walked into the office
to give my official report. Yeah, I told her we
should probably send someone out for a wellness check on him.
I was still in the middle of explaining the situation
when right on cue, the bathroom door opened and the
man himself walked up behind me, big smile, completely cheerful,
and he says.

Speaker 2 (45:43):
Got it taken care of. Thanks.

Speaker 1 (45:45):
I could hear the dispatchers on the other end trying
so hard.

Speaker 2 (45:48):
To keep it together.

Speaker 1 (45:49):
Honestly, I was doing the same thing, fighting that mix
of relief disbelief, and he urged to laugh. The whole
thing was over in a matter of minutes, but the
mental image of customers leaving the restroom life traumatized, followed
by this guy strolling out like he just finished a
marathon is something I'll never forget. Story thirty seven. Back
when I was a dispatcher, I once took a nine

(46:10):
to one to one call from a woman who sounded
genuinely concerned, the kind of voice you'd expect if someone
was following her in a dark alley. She started with,
I'm being followed there right behind me. Naturally, my brain
went straight to the usual possibilities. Maybe a stranger, maybe
a danger situation. I asked, ma'am, can you describe who's
following you? There was a pause, and then she said,

(46:32):
where's two of them? They're kind of waddling and they
keep making this honking noise. I asked a few more questions,
just to be sure I was hearing this right. Nope,
no code words, no strange slang. She meant actual geese.
Apparently she had been walking home from the store when
too big determined geese decided she was worth escorting or chasing,
depending on how you look at it. In her mind,

(46:55):
this wasn't just wildlife being wildlife, It was a full
on pursuit. I had to explain as gently as possible
that geese are wild animals, they live around people, and
there's really nothing we can do to make them stop
existing in the neighborhood. I even suggested she crossed the
street or wait them out. She didn't sound entirely convinced.
In fact, she asked if we could send someone to

(47:17):
shoot them away, like they were part of some organized
crime ring. Once the call ended, I couldn't help but laugh.
I pictured those geese just going about their day, probably
thinking she was following them. In my head, it looked
like the star of a low budget nature documentary, And
here we see the unsuspecting human in her natural habitat,
being shadowed by the relentless urban goose. Story thirty eight.

(47:39):
I used to be both a dispatcher and the chief
of security for a hotel in Washington, which meant I
got my fair share of odd calls, But during one
of our big conventions, I got one I will never forget.
The caller's voice was shaky, rushed, and a little embarrassed.
He said he was stuck in his hotel room, not
just stuck inside, tangled up in gear. He was alone,
couldn't reach the spare key because it was across the room,

(48:02):
and had no way of freeing himself. I stayed on
the line, asking questions and trying to figure out what
gear meant, while one of my officers grabbed a master
key and headed up. The guy on the phone kept
insisting it was complicated and not what it looked like,
which of course only made me more curious. A few
minutes later, I hear the officer arrive, the door unlocks,

(48:22):
there's a pause, and in my radio crackles with the
sound of my officer completely losing it, full on belly laughing.
In the background, I can hear the caller protesting, his
voice rising in this indignant, it's not funny tone, which
of course made even funnier. Here's what happened. This gentleman
had been preparing for what he clearly thought was going
to be an unforgettable night with a casual Fling said.

(48:45):
Fling had strapped him into some rather elaborate equipment. It
had locks, it had straps. It looked like something you'd
see in a prop room for a very specific kind
of movie. The evening apparently ended sooner than he expected.
Instead of freeing him, the other person had pushed him
off the bed, leaving him on the floor tangled like
a human pretzel, and then just walked out. He'd been

(49:07):
stuck there long enough to wriggle toward the nightstand, grabbed
his phone and call for help, which is how he
ended up talking to me. I muted my mic, bit
my knuckle and stare at the wall because if I
let myself laugh out loud, I was never gonna stop.
The whole thing felt like a scene ripped straight out
of a slapstick comedy. In the end, we had to
bring up bolt cutters to free him. No other tool

(49:30):
in the building was going to work. Once he was loose,
he thanked us about one hundred times, avoided all eye contact,
and bolted from a room like it was haunted. Within
a few hours, he'd checked out entirely and booked himself
on the very next flight home. I never saw him again,
but I can guarantee everyone who worked that shift still
remembers the gear guy from that convention story thirty nine.

(49:52):
I'm not a dispatcher, but I remember seeing this call
on TV and it stuck with me ever since. It
was one of those reality shows where they play actual
nice recordings, and this particular call was between the dispatcher
and a guy who was very high. The call started
with absolutely no warm up. He didn't pretend there was
another reason for calling. He just blurted out, I'm too

(50:13):
high and I need help. The dispatcher tried to keep
a professional asking what was wrong, how much he'd had,
and if he was alone. His answers were slow drawn
out and very sincere, like each word took a full
moment of deep thought before it left his mouth. When
the police arrived, the scene was somehow even better than
what I had pictured. The guy was sitting cross leg

(50:33):
in the middle of his living room floor, staring up
at them like they had just entered his fortress, and
it was a fortress sort of. Surrounding him was a
perfect circle of snacks, chips, cookies, candy crackers, all neatly
arranged in an unbroken line, like he was preparing for siege.
The officers later joked it looked like the world's most
delicious crop circle. Instantly, my brain wented that SpongeBob episode

(50:56):
where they draw a circle in the dirt to keep
away the sea bear, only in this case, his circle
of protection was one hundred percent edible. I could just
imagine him thinking that as long as he stayed inside,
he was safe and well fed. The best part, he
didn't try to run, didn't make a scene. He just
politely asked the officers if they could fix how he
was feeling. I'm pretty sure they spent more time holding

(51:18):
back laughter than actually doing anything else. It's still one
of my favorite two high stories, a mix of cartoon logic,
snack food strategy, and pure commitment to the bit. Story
forty we had a frequent flyer who was known by everyone.

Speaker 2 (51:32):
At the station.

Speaker 1 (51:33):
If you've been there more than a week, you knew
her name, her voice, and at least three wild stories
about her. She struggled with her mental health, and one
of her more infamous habits was occasionally running through the
street without clothes. But that a whole other saga. She
had this routine where she'd stroll into the police station
and use our phone to call dispatch, no warning, no preamble,

(51:54):
She'd just pick up the receiver and make a request,
as if she were ordering takeout. My coworkers had all
all warn me about that first h JAY call, like
it was some rite of passage every dispatcher had to
go through. So one quiet afternoon it finally happened. I
picked up the line and heard her voice for the
first time. Someone broke into my house. She said, all right,

(52:15):
I replied, keeping my voice calm, what's your address? Without
missing a beat, she said, I don't have a house, silly.
I almost lost it right there, but I took a
deep breath, reminded myself this was the HJ, and pressed on, okay,
so what's going on today that we can help you with.
That's when she launched into a story, and I mean launched.
According to her, her mother had stolen her antique mirror,

(52:38):
not recently, not last week, in nineteen ninety six. She
gave me a full rundown of the mirror's importance, her
mother's betrayal, and how that one theft was connected to
the downfall of America as we know it. From there,
it was a hard left turn into a passionate monologue
about the terrible state of the country, politicians, gas prices,
the weather, you name it. I was just along for

(52:59):
the ride at that point, taking notes like a court
reporter at the world's strangest hearing. Then, as abruptly as
she started, she wrapped it up with if you're not
going to fix things, then you should just kill me.
Thank you have a blessed day.

Speaker 2 (53:13):
Click.

Speaker 1 (53:13):
I sat there staring at the phone for a second,
caught between concerned disbelief and the urge to laugh. Once
the shock were off, I started laughing so hard my
stomach hurt. She was and still is, a character I'll
never forget around the station. She wasn't just a frequent flyer.
She was part of our unofficial cast of regulars, the
kind of person who could turn an ordinary shift into

(53:35):
a story you'd be telling years later. Story forty one.
I like to think we gave the folks at nine
to one won a good laugh that night. When my
kids were young, we had one of those wireless landline handsets,
the kind that always seemed to vanish into couch cushions.
Or get left in the strangest places. Somehow, one Sunday evening,
it managed to dial nine to one one all on

(53:55):
its own. To this day, I have no idea how.
Maybe a button got pump maybe when the kids was
playing with it, but however happened, the call went through,
and then the phone ended up sitting right in front
of the TV. Meanwhile, in the mad Turk household, life
was moving along as usual. We were cooking dinner, laughing,
eating together, and watching our usual Sunday night show, totally

(54:17):
oblivious to the fact that somewhere out there a dispatcher
was listening to all of it in real time. I
pictured them sitting at their desk, hearing the clink of silverware,
the hum of the TV, my kids bickering over who
got the bigger slice of garlic bread, and maybe the
occasional laugh from whatever sitcom was playing. No panic, no
raised voices, just the sound of an extremely normal family evening.

(54:40):
At some point I can't even remember exactly when the
call disconnected. We kept right on with our night, completely unaware.
A few minutes later, the phone rang again. I picked
up and it was nine to one one, checking in.
Is everything all right? There, the dispatcher asked. I assured
them it was fine, no emerging, no trouble, just dinner

(55:01):
and TV. They didn't send anyone out since it was
pretty clear nothing bad was happening, but they told me
they'd try to get our attention earlier and eventually had.

Speaker 2 (55:10):
A call back as a follow up.

Speaker 1 (55:11):
Now, whenever I think about it, I imagine that dispatue leaning
back in her chair, listening to our whole evening unfold,
wondering just how long would take before we noticed, probably
shaking their head and thinking, well, at least these people
are having a nice night. Story forty two. This one
wasn't technically my call. It's a story a dispatcher told
my dad, who's a police officer. But it's about me

(55:34):
when I was little. See, when I was a kid,
I had no concept of appropriate ways to reach my
dad while he was at work if I needed him.
I didn't think about calling the station's non emergency line
or waiting until he came home or leaving a message. Nope,
I went straight for the top. I'd pick up the phone,
dial nine to one one and very confidently say can

(55:55):
I talk to my dad?

Speaker 2 (55:56):
That was it?

Speaker 1 (55:57):
No unit number no badge number, not even his name.
I just assumed they knew exactly who my dad was,
because obviously he was my dad. The dispatcher would try
to get a little more information, but usually ended up
playing detective to figure out which officer had a kid
bold enough to treat nine to one one like a
personal hotline. Eventually, they learned the pattern and would patch

(56:19):
me through without much fuss. My dad later told me
that he and the dispatcher would struggle to keep straight
faces each.

Speaker 2 (56:26):
Time it happened.

Speaker 1 (56:27):
And the thing is, I wasn't always calling for big,
important reasons. Sometimes I want to ask him if we
could get ice cream after his shift. Sometimes I just
want to tell him I'd found a cool rock. Once
I called a tell him the cat was acting suspicious.
Looking back, I'm amazed no one told me to stop sooner,
though I think the dispatchers secretly looked forward to it.

(56:48):
My dad always said he could hear them laughing softly
in the background when my calls came through. To this day,
whenever I think about it, I imagine the poor dispatcher
trying and keep their voice professional while writing in the notes.
Child requesting ice cream from officer dad,