Coyote's Den

A friend once remarked that I wasn't terribly coyote-ish, because I don't seem to play tricks on people.

Heh.

At a pagan festival, one of the people in charge was often very overbearing and disrespectful of people. He managed to curl my lip many times. I'll call him Chuckles (not his real name).

Anyway, a couple years ago, some friends were running a major ritual event there, and the staff loaned them a walkie-talkie to help them coordinate with other people in the ritual - who were scattered across the rather large property the festival takes place on.

Anyway, apparently, someone tried to get in touch with them, but the thing was off, or on the wrong channel or something, so Chuckles huffs over and instead of just explaining the problem, snatches it away and tells them that they can't use it any more if they "don't know how to work it."

Well, it rapidly became a big pain coordinating. I ended up running back and forth several times across this 40-acre spot trying to relay messages and find people. Finally, I explained the problem to one of the other organizers, who gave me the go-ahead to get the walkie-talking back from Chuckles.

So, I find Chuckles and ask for the walkie talkie, and he holds it out to me with the ends of his fingers, like he's handing change to a vagrant, and sneers something about "try and see if you guys can remember to turn it on this time, huh? If you can't work a simple device, you should let someone else use it."

Right. Obviously the man needed a demonstration that we were capable of operating it properly, so he'd feel good about the distribution of resources. No problem! That's fair, right?

So... after I finished helping coordinate the event, I decided that maybe I should demonstrate that I knew how to operate the walkie-talkie properly.

I turned it to the channel used for the site coordinators and security staff - Chuckles' co-workers. I then wandered around, making conversation with whoever I ran into. The conversation starter was always "Hey, you know that guy Chuckles? I'd heard he was a decent guy, but he was a little funny to me just now. What do you think of him? Am I just being sensitive?"

And then I'd surreptitiously hold down the "talk" button on the walkie-talkie as they responded.

And of course, every single person I talked to immediately shared some anecdote about what a big, pompous jerk he was, how he'd been rude or high-handed, how they wished he wouldn't be put in charge of stuff, how he'd repeatedly complicated simple matters, or tried to operate dangerous equipment that he didn't know how to use and had gotten injured.

I did this for about forty-five minutes or an hour. Then I went back to Chuckles to bring him the walkie-talkie and tell him thanks, and that we were done with it, and that it worked well now that we knew how to use it.

As I handed it over, he was kind of ashen and pale, and didn't say a word - he just sort of nodded woodenly.

He was incredibly courteous to me after that.

I'm hoping that he simply didn't know how he was coming across to others, and that my little trick was a wake-up call that helped him learn to be more courteous.

But failing that, I'm hoping that all the rest of the staff who heard what came over the security channel got an earful. I notice that he didn't seem to get put in charge of a lot of stuff after that.

It's an old story, but I'm reasonably proud of it, and think it was a good trick.

And in this case, the trick didn't result in me losing my eyebrows, so, cool.