The 10 Wildest Moments as a Social Worker

As a social worker, you need to get used to the unbelievable becoming the routine and the wild becoming expected. It really is amazing how quickly you become numb, as a coping mechanism, to the horrible things being experienced in the community. It is why you see so many jaded souls in the field – taking work home is, for me, the kiss of death for your own mental health and sanity as a social worker. There is a real line that needs to be toed between making sure you care about the people you work with and also not getting too emotionally involved and sacrificing your own well being. It truly is sad.

Once in a while, though, a situation so surreal and extraordinary will show up and live long in the memory bank. Listed below are 10 of mine; I do want to preface by saying all names, locations, and ages (genders, too, where applicable) are withheld to protect human dignity, HIPPA compliance, and their larger right to confidentiality. I am by no means making light of these situations or poking fun at anyone – this is just meant as a realistic, maybe dark-humored look at what comes up in social services if you are considering the field or just curious about it.

Just Missing the Cut

Honestly, cutting this list to just 10 was brutal. Just missing the cut are such gems as:

#10 – The Racist Parent

First off – if someone with some serious $$$ reads this and wants to do some good, I have the perfect non-profit idea: a fully-funded physical moving company to assist low income families and individuals with moving from one dwelling to another, at low or no cost to the client. Actually moving places with little money and no car is a nightmare.

Why that tangent? Well, dear reader, it segues perfectly into this little story. A parent called me one day asking for moving assistance for their child. I explained that, unfortunately, my agency did not assist with moving belongings to another home and that I also did not know of anyone who did for free. Said parent fired back by asking if I personally knew of anyone who could help their child, and I quote: “…even if they’re Mexican.” It took me a minute to process what was actually said, because WHO THE F#*% SAYS THAT!!!

The shock was followed by instant regret at having dropped Spanish after 3 years of high school, because I really wish I could have gone on an epic rant en Espanol to really give them the business. Alas, in the heat of the moment, I didn’t get much of a chance to lay into them before they hung up the phone, a major regret of mine.

#9 – Good Ole’ Fashioned Family Scammers

I always got a kick out of this one, because in a way I respected their balls and the ~brilliance~ of how they drew up their scheme in a way that I was never able to get enough proof to bust the scam. The scene is this: the year is 2020 and the world is starting to emerge from it’s collective shutdown. The air is starting to get polluted again, morning traffic returns to being an annoyance, and the first batch of relief money is trickling down to counties across America to disperse. One individual on my list of applicants for rental assistance was seemingly like any other. They met every qualification and things were running smoother than my cheeks after Shave Day.

Until, that is, it was time for the landlord to conduct a walk-through inspection and provide their documentation proving ownership of the property. And who is this mysterious landlord? The person’s mother! They had a fully legal lease allowing the child to live in the parent’s home and pay rent. Naturally, the rent was delinquent and they were looking to collect! After running it by lawyers, the lease was deemed valid and a fat, 6-month rental check was hand delivered (the parent refused to allow it mailed!) by yours truly.

I ran into several other attempts like this in my time – some successful, others not – but none as audacious and as in-your-face as this one.

#8 – Snail-Mailing the Vitals

As the world becomes more and more dependent on technology, there are those who are just not savvy with computers. Social services is not immune to this. As more and more applications get put online, not knowing how to upload or email a required document is a hurdle to getting assistance.

That brings me to a person who really, REALLY, trusted the United States Postal Service. Having given this individual a list of required documents for rental assistance, I was expecting something in my inbox anytime. What I did not expect was, 4 days later, an envelope addressed to me to show up at my office door. And what should be inside? Sadly, not a Five Guys gift card (man that place has gotten pricy, hasn’t it?!) or a holiday bonus check but a shiny, authentic social security card from the applicant!

A PSA from me to anyone considering this: do NOT, under any circumstances, snail mail your social security card to someone you have only spoken to once on the phone and have not met in person. I wish they had just asked me if I could drive out to them and make a secure scan of the dang thing! Luckily, nothing bad happened in the mail but…just don’t do this folks!

#7 – Getting the Low-Down on Lovers’ Lane

There are, officially, 2,132 roads in the United States called Lovers’ Lane. It was on one of those that a sad situation became truly scary. My client, a destitute, mentally ill yet manipulative member of, let’s say, a certain group of people talked his way without my knowledge into a shared living situation with an elderly property owner who had an affinity for that group of people and let them into the home. Asked for assistance with the rent, I set out to conduct an inspection of the property to fulfill program requirements.

Although I had reservations about the individual previously, what I walked into that day was truly shocking. While there with a colleague, the landlord and a family member stated that they feared for their life. The client had moved in with a partner and was stalking and threatening the owner; the owner had also realized several valuable possessions were now missing. My client, who had promised to be their for the inspection, was also nowhere to be found. While we tried to work out a plan of what to do in case they came back, we encouraged the owner to move in temporarily with their family member and contact both the police and their attorney.

While everyone left the property that day without incident, the issue was far from over: the terrified owner then agreed without my knowledge to meet in person with the client, and signed a month-to-month lease agreement with them, providing some staying rights to the now-tenants. More threats, more stolen possessions, and some drug pushing later, the police finally had enough evidence to arrest the person.

#6 – A Point Well MAde

One of my favorite individuals I ever worked with was a character who came into my agency weekly, without fail, seeking shaving razors that we limited to one a week, as by sheer volume of donated razors we handed out to them we assumed they were being re-sold on the streets. A pleasant soul and always quick with a joke, it was a major surprise when they didn’t show up for several weeks in a row, and all the staff was worried something had happened.

The answer came from the newspaper, which ran a short article about how this person was arrested for attempted to rob a bank…with an airsoft gun. A little while later when they showed up again, a colleague of mine was curious and asked why the attempted robbery? The answer: “Because that’s where the money is.”

You can’t argue with that.

#5 – A Love Triangle Yields a Love Child

A useful ability that came with the COVID relief grants was being able to qualify hotel rooms as “emergency housing” if area shelters were full and thus cover the cost for a set period of time while searching for a permanent solution. This also led to some really wild stories, the best of which featured clients from two separate programs. One was a troubled couple, the other an individual. Said individual got involved with one half of the couple, leading to illicit sexcapades that were finally discovered by the cheated party. This turned into a massive brawl that led to the police being called and the individual being arrested.

It was only later I learned that out of that two-week fling, a love child came into being. I’m sad that no one who worked with them was named a godparent for facilitating this connection.

#4 – Oh I would Do Anything For Love…

Buckle up, folks, because now we’ve reached the “S” tier tales. Kicking it off was a situation that really pissed me off in the moment and has since become a classic. Late in the afternoon on Friday right before the holidays, I was delegated a fairly routine task. My agency had a small program where people that couldn’t afford vital medication could be covered one time by us, provided a social worker went with the person to pick up the script.

So, as the late December Sun started to settle, I headed out to a pharmacy to meet with this individual, who had already been pre-screened and approved. It turned out that the pharmacy the person had chosen couldn’t actually accept their insurance, and thus the cost was way above what the program could pay. Telling them this, they insisted that the local hospital’s pharmacy had worked with them before and would take the insurance. It was starting to get very cold and precipitation was coming down, and my client was wheelchair bound. Due to company policy, I was unable to give them a lift across town. Undaunted, my client insisted on calling it in to the other pharmacy and started making their way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces pass…

When I arrived, it turned out that, while the insurance was accepted, the price was ~slightly~ higher than the price they quoted us earlier in the day (about $50 higher, to be precise). Lacking that amount of petty cash on hand, and with the office long-since closed for the weekend at this point, I was left with one option: that little piece of plastic lurking in my wallet. The pharmacy took my credit card, and my client gratefully exclaimed, “Man, how have I not heard about this program before?! Can you guys do this every month?” I told them it was mostly a one time thing, but to contact the person they spoke with initially for more details.

After all the trouble we went through to obtain the “vital” medication, what was it you may ask? Viagra.

#3 – Facebook Freakout

During COVID times, I was referred a potential client who had a real ax to grind from day 1. From the opening conversation, I was informed that they had connections at the mayor’s office and the newspaper and if things didn’t go as they felt I wasn’t doing my job they would happily report this to their contacts. Looking to leave a dwelling with maintenances issues with their siblings, I explained the required documents of the program, including providing proof of income. This was not well received, but eventually provided after weeks of pulling strings.

This particular person was an enigma as well as ill-tempered. They ran an after-school teaching program out of their home that had received press attention, and they were very active about their apparently successful life on social media. They wished to purchase a home, but the program wouldn’t allow funds to be used for a down payment. I provided a list of reputable landlords and property management companies in the area with openings, but all my suggestions were shot down as not good enough. Although they never provided specifics as to what exactly their requirements were, they did eventually find a luxury apartment well out of their budget range. When asked about how they intended to afford the place after the assistance stopped, they snapped at me but promised to show proof.

Next, they submitted an offer letter from a school showing that the individual was named CEO, on a salary hovering on the 6 figure line. Although I hated to be suspicious, my BS meter was off the charts based on our prior interactions and I googled it – the school was owned by them, run out of their home. I told him congratulations, but based off the requirements for the aid he was now well over the income limit, and we could not help with the deposit and first rent. That didn’t go over well, and they demanded to speak with the manager.

Before my manager sat down with me to call them, we did a little research on this person. Turns out, my manager was Facebook friends with them! It gets better: they had just posted the week before a picture of their bank statement, showing wellllllll into 5 figures worth of savings, bragging of their success recently in business ventures.

Why they went through all this trouble still remains a mystery to me. Were they trying to prove how easy they could game the system? Were they just lying on social media and actually struggling? Were they just bored and wanted to find something to mess with? Were they having delusions of grandeur?! I even considered they may have been sent undercover to expose issues with the program by the contacts in high places! To this day, I have no idea.

#2 – Got Milk?

If someone in the dairy industry could clue me into this one, I’d be forever grateful. In the Spring and Summer of 2020, during the COVID shutdown, the county with which I worked had a massive surplus of milk during the days of the lockdown. The reason? I’m unsure. To avoid wasting it all, farms donated massive amounts of the good good to local non-profit food pantries, including the one I worked. And when I say massive, I mean MASSIVE. We are talking 15-25 crates worth, 2x a week for months.

My coworkers and I played Tetris just to try to fit all the 1/2 gallons in our fridges, and in a fit of desperation, even resorted to freezing some. The scene was just incredible – all hands on deck doing an assembly line of warming milk crates, multiple times a week. The smell, let’s say, hovered somewhere between rotten eggs and fresh mulch.

To freeze the milk, we needed to make space, as the freezers and fridges were filled with meats for the food pantry. The solution? Partnering with a local ice cream shop to store the meats in their freezer while we filled ours to the brim with half-gallons. This did come with a nice side perk, though: ice cream on the job every delivery to and from the shop!

Getting all that cow juice out the door before the expiration dates was a struggle. Despite hanging a “Free Milk!” sign out front and handing out unlimited amounts to every food pantry client, we were constantly in a race against time, keeping a hilarious inventory of expiration dates. At times, and as crass as it was, we were begging people to take milk. I felt terrible; at times we had to reject people who didn’t qualify for a program, but were then offering milk as consolation on the way out the door. Yet, we had to to do it to avoid pouring tons of it down the drain.

It got to the point we had to request fewer crates. Our request was denied; the reason being every non-profit in the area had made the same request!

#1 – The Gun Incident

In my final year on the job, I worked with a couple that became homelessness because of a situation that was no fault of their own. The apartment they rented had been allowed to fall into disrepair, and one of them had fallen down the stairs and messed up a leg when the handrail broke. While hospitalized for surgery, the city finally stepped in and condemned the unit. A byproduct of this: the couple was now homeless. I only spoke initially with the one not in surgery, and they secured an apartment for the couple with program assistance for the move in costs.

Everything was smooth – the couple moved in after the one moved into outpatient treatment for the leg injury. I realized I was missing a vital bit of paperwork from my file that was required and contacted them to come and scan it. I set up a date and time to come by, and showed up on-time that day to the first-story apartment with a gift card as a housewarming gift. I knocked on the door – once, then twice. I heard nothing from the other side, and wondered it they were out. I tried knocking one more time, and heard a faint “Come in!” from inside. The door was unlocked, and I entered into a hallway, with a kitchen to my right and the living room and bedroom to my left.

In the living room, seated in a wheelchair, was the person who had broken their leg; someone I had not up to this point ever spoken to. In their hand was a black object pointed at me. They asked me who I was and what I was doing there. Confused, I stated my name and that I was there to collect the paperwork as we had spoken about. At that point, the object in his hand was lowered and they apologized profusely. Totally ignorant until that that point, I finally realized what the object actually was: a pistol.

They stated their SO was out shopping, and to protect themselves, they had armed themselves against potential intruders in a part of town they considered unsafe. Fair enough, I suppose. Just as I was wrapping my mind around what just happened, I was told to sit down and stay for a bit, and spent 30 minutes hearing increasingly wild (and possibly true) stories about how they were a special forces agent who was well versed in many different weapons. They mentioned at one point how, per the government, they didn’t actually exist. Thoroughly spooked, I kept a calm disposition, terrified of saying anything that might unnerve, worry, or provoke them. Finally, I was able to tear myself away and gunned my car down the street.

I actually had a meeting with another social worker to attend right after. I legitimately have no recollection of it; I was in a daze at this point and called my boss to debrief, then called out early for the day. In the follow-up post, part 3 of my social work series, I discuss what it was like to go through a possible life-or-death incident on the job and my reaction now.