"Barney Rubble...what an actor."

One of the schools (maybe my mom's, I don't recall exactly) had a code for lockdown that was something about a coyote being in the parking lot. Which was actually useful the time there actually WAS a coyote in the parking lot at dismissal, however not so good for teachers' nerves. They changed the code.

Sorry if this has been linked to before, but...

Jack Chick vs. Mormonism: [link]

Oh great. I'm going to get no work done for the rest of the day. We just sent out the annual survey and the responses are rolling in. I'm gonna be hitting refresh for the latest snark all afternoon (when I'm not being meetinged to death.)

When I worked at Penney's, we did not have rolled dimes. When we started we were trained that in times of emergency, we were to call the operator (of Penney's) and say we needed dimes. The only time I did this, the conversation went something like this:

ME: Hello, I need a roll of dimes.

OPERATOR: We don't have dimes here, didn't you know?

ME: Yes but I REALLY need a roll of dimes!

OPERATOR: I am sorry, but you can just use nickels!

ME: $#@#$!!!!

When I was a cab driver, we had two codes to call in and report trouble from a passenger (if we could). They were fake cab numbers that you used to identify yourself. One was if you thought there might be trouble, the other was if there was definitely trouble.

I was running a series of night rides (cheap, shared taxi service for late night, that took up to 45 minutes to arrive for pickup) and picked up two young women as part of a long ride heading from west to east. When I took them to their destination, only one got out. I asked the other one why she wasn't getting out and she said she was going way west side, the other direction.

She was actually supposed to get in a different cab. And I confirmed the destination with them, but this woman assumed she would just go on to her own destination.

When I explained this to her, it turned into a huge argument with her insisting I take her to her destination. When I told her that her choices were to call for another ride at the end of the line (with another 45 minute possible), or get out here, she flipped out, hinted she had a gun in her purse, and told me *I* would be taking her home whether I liked it or not.

Anyway, I stopped arguing and started driving again, and after a minute, called in on the "I have serious trouble" code.

The dispatcher asked me to explain what the problem was.

I told him I had a problem, but couldn't explain it. He said he wasn't going to take any emergency steps unless I explained what the problem was.

Understand that this is a code that might mean "I have a crazy person with a gun in my cab."

Everything turned out okay. Cops met us at the destination, and had guns drawn as passengers exited the vehicle. I was a little startling and scary for all involved. The young woman was just a punk kid with no gun and a big mouth.

However, I almost decked the dispatcher the next time I saw him.

Note to self: make sure if you have emergency codes, all involved know what they are.

I know there are publishers who supply Writer's Digest and the other listing services with a fake editor name. That's why, when a duplicitous would-be author writes in, "Dear [Jane], Here is the MS you asked for when I showed you my partial at the [Whatchamacallit] conference..." they know to send a "no thanks" response without any first reading.

Note to self: make sure if you have emergency codes, all involved know what they are.

SERIOUSLY.

Mr. Jane knows that if I call him any shmoopy name that's not sweetheart, there's trouble.

There were always attempts at my libraries to set things up - but they kept trying to use hospital codes- which sounded so fake. and the only reason you'd use a code is that you were trying to keep the crazy person from knowing you were calling for help. So we never had them.