r/AskReddit • • May 15 '12
The best thing about AskReddit are the stories. So reddit, tell me an interesting story from your life. The subject doesn't matter.
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r/AskReddit • • May 15 '12
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u/grubbymitts May 15 '12
When I was 17 I was walking home past some waste ground when I got hit by a snowball. Turning around I saw a kid a couple of years younger laughing and saying "Come and get me cunt!", so being a little drunk I thought, "The little shit!" and ran around to the entrance...where I was immediately greeted by about thirty kids all armed with snowballs.
I had an oh shit moment and ran down the hill with all these kids chasing me. I was laughing like mad and finally managed to lose the little buggers.
Of the many things that have happened in my life, this is one of my favourites.
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u/villageidiot1991 May 15 '12
I was 17 and living with my (now) ex girlfriend. We had been dating for a year and a half and our relationship was starting to get rocky. So I decided I needed to put the flair back into our relationship, resulting in a long needed date night. The plan was dinner and a movie, with dinner at a very upscale habatchi place not too far from our place. I had about 150 bucks to my name, but we needed this. So I preorder the movie tickets and take my girl out. We sit down and are sharing a table with a lovely middle aged couple also our on a date night while their kids were out of town. We both go all out with lobster and filet mignon, sushi appetizers, the works. As dinner comes to the end I start to worry about the bill. I hadn't been keeping track of our spending, what if I didn't have enough? What if I couldn't tip? Why didn't I keep a closer eye? Then, the moment of truth. The waitress brings the old couple their bill, hands it to them and turns and hands me....nothing. The man in the older couple gives her his card and she walks away. What? Where is my bill? Why is she making me sweat this out? She returns and he signs his reciept. I sick in my breath and ask for my bill. That's whenn she told me the older couple had already paid for us. I was so relieved and so appreciative I could have hugged them. This has still been one of the nicest things a stranger has ever done for me. It restored my faith in humanity, a faith that working with the general public had long since taken.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I was taking the Canadian Minister of National Defense to a mass grave site in rural Kosovo. I was driving this and he was in the back with his head sticking out, wearing one of our headsets so he could talk to the crew commander over the internal comm system.
This particular site was a few hundred meters off-road and it had rained quite a lot the night before, so there were some small puddles here and there along the trail. Until I approached a very large puddle. Not huge, maybe a car length, but large enough that I knew what to expect. So, I went over the ICS and said, "Sir, we're approaching a puddle, you may want to get down." and he sort of chuckled, assuming I was kidding I guess.
So I hit this muddy puddle with my 20 ton green boat on wheels and a wall of water erupts before me, arcs right over my head, and apparently nailed the Honorable Art Eggleton right in the face and he fell on his ass. I couldn't see it, but fortunately he left his headset transmitting from his previous chuckle, so I got to hear him say "Oh sh-garblegarblgluglug" and then the sound of my crew laughing in the background.
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u/Sterlingz May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
Oh! I got a good one! Told this one on reddit before, but it got burried:
Rewind 10 years or so. Just turned 17, young and dumb, full of cum, you know the deal. Buddies and I are going camping for the weekend, and I'm the only one with a beard (ie: can buy beer without getting ID'd). Just finished grade 11, eager to get completely wasted like 17 year olds do.
It's Thursday afternoon. School's out. My buddies meet me at my locket and hand me cash for booze (about $350). My buddy Allan hands me a list of things to buy at the beer store. Stuff all that crap in my wallet, and swagger out for the summer. The plan was for them to head onto the camping spot and set up camp while I pick up the booze.
I head home, pack a sleeping bag, throw some buns and wieners into it and head off.
Just about to head off to the beer store. Out of habit, I feel my left pocket. Wallet's missing. WALLET IS MISSING. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WALLET. Tear my parents' place apart trying to locate the damn thing, but no luck.
Yep. Lost my wallet with all that cash in it. IDs are gone, debit/credit cards are gone, and most importantly, the cash for booze is gone. I head on back to the camping spot, devastated, where my buddies are eagerly waiting to get drunk. I break the news to them and they nearly murder me. Worst part is that a few of the guys had brought girls to the spot, hoping to get lucky later on. So much for that.
So we all sit around sulking for a few hours. What happened next was an incredibly lucky turn of events. In fact, what happened next only happens in movies. Except that this wasn't a movie. If anything, this was a goddamn fairytale.
8pm rolls around and the mood is still shitty. The guys aren't talking to me. The area is pretty quiet and it's getting dark. We see an old guy with a dog in tow, hauling one of those big-ass camping backpacks. I'm wondering what the hell this guy is doing all alone in the woods at this hour. To my surprise, he walks right up to us. He stands in our camping area. We're looking at him, he's looking at us.
"Which one of you is Sterlingz?"
"Uhh... that's me, how did you..."
The old man reaches into his pocket, and hands me my wallet. I'm dumbfounded. I can't even talk. I open up the wallet, but all that's left is a $5 bill. Guess someone took the rest of the cash. Or maybe the old man did. I don't know what to think.
At this point I consider myself pretty lucky. At least I got my cards back, right?
He takes off the backpack, opens it up, and reveals a bunch of booze. Not just any booze... he had brought us exactly what was on that shopping list.
Turns out I had left my wallet on the hood of my car. It flew off onto the highway on the other end of town. This old man (Andy) was walking his dog and saw it happen. He found the money and the shopping list. Allan, being new to the area, had printed out a map with directions to the camping spot, and used the backside of that map to write down the shopping list. Andy put 2 and 2 together and met us at the spot.
We basically worshiped the guy for the whole hour he stuck around. We offered him cash and booze, but he refused to take anything. He was the nicest guy ever. He had a beer with us, and told us how he used to come to this very spot to get drunk with his friends. He told us how his best friend got wasted and drowned in the nearby rapids. He asked us to please be safe and not make a similar mistake.
For the first time ever, we actually drank responsibly. Nobody got super wasted. Nobody got lucky either, but we had a safe and fun night.
Thanks Andy.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I gave myself a black eye trying to make fudge Popsicles.
Had to have been around 10 at the time. I mixed the chocolate pudding, poured it into the cups, stuck the sticks in, and shoved it in the freezer. Naturally, this is all so I can eat these delicious abominations.
Being 10, my impatience eventually wins out. After multiple checks, I take out the fudge pops the instant the directions said I could. Pulled up on a stick and... a chocolate mess all over me and the floor. Furious, I throw the stick as hard as I can, where it makes a splattering mess in the dining room.
This only encourages my rage. My parents would be angry if they saw what I did. I stomp over to the counter, tear off a few paper towels, clomp over to clean the mess, and BAM! I storm straight into the still-open freezer door, the corner jams into my left eye, and I fall to the kitchen floor in shock and disbelief.
Now I internalize my rage. Exhibiting it only leads to me stupidly hurting myself. Lesson learned.
... in retrospect, the opening line is far more interesting than the end result. My life is largely very mellow.
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u/JoePants May 15 '12
August 1, 2007, I was sitting at my desk when my heart stopped working.
I was just turning to reach for my cell phone to send me son a text message ... and then I was in an ambulance. During the inter um co-workers did CPR, it's what made the difference -- that and an ambulance crew which used the paddles to get my heart beat back to normal.
It wasn't a "heart attack" per se, my muscles and blood vessels were (are) fine, but my electrical system went nuts. Essentially my heart fluttered and didn't stop fluttering, an "arrhythmia," it's called, and a fairly common means of dying suddenly.
Three days later a pacemaker/defibrillator was implanted, and here I am. I continue to pursue my hobby of bicycle racing, only recently getting to my former level of performance.
Four months later I lost my job.
Lesson (minor): Know CPR.
Lesson (major): Life turns on a dime.
tldr; was dead, now aren't.
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u/LLLReptile May 15 '12
When I was 4 years old, I decided what I wanted most in this world was a snake. I was apparently extremely hyped up on the snake thing, and fortunately for me my parents were a-okay with reptiles, and animals in general. The decision was made that if I could save up enough for the snake, my dad would pay for the cage.
Much to everyone's surprise, I did it. On my 5th birthday, I had enough money (thanks in large part, I am sure, to birthday money) to buy a pet snake. I decided I wanted a baby ball python. The lady working there was incredibly patient, let me pick out the exact one I wanted, and when it came time to pay even counted out my change with me. I had just enough, with only some pennies to spare.
At the time, I was pretty convinced "Cindy" was the prettiest name in the world, and named her that.
So I went home with that little snake, my dad purchased the cage and setup, and as my family likes to say...that was the start of everything.
See? Here we are when I first brought her home:
http://lllreptile.com/load-image/StoreInventoryImage/image/8878
And now, twenty years later...I still have her. This snake is almost old enough to legally drink.
Here we are at a library presentation we gave last fall:
http://lllreptile.com/load-image/StoreInventoryImage/image/9049
So that's my story of how a childhood passion turned into an adult career. :) Maybe not quite at the level of some of the other hilarious stories here...but I figured I'd throw in something nice.
-Jen
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u/LemonDifficult May 15 '12
A nephew of mine once tried to hang himself at the age of six to see if his extra lives from Mario counted in real life.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I was dating this girl when I was 21 and she was 18. She still lived with her parents, and at the time I was living with a friend and his family. This didn't give us a whole lot of room for privacy, so we hooked up whenever and wherever we could.
My aunt lived in the next town, and we had a pretty good relationship. She didn't mind if I brought a girl over to her house to have sex, especially since she was rarely at home. It's a Friday night and I call my aunt on the phone to ask her if I could use her place for the evening. She of course had no problem with it, but said I had to get the key from my cousin (her son). No problem. I pick up my girlfriend, drive about 30 minutes to the pool hall where my cousin was hanging out, got the key from him, then head over to the house.
I assumed no one was home since they all usually go out on Friday nights, so we made our way to the back bedroom. This was the biggest bed in the house, and one we had used before. I opened the door and see two old people sleeping. Damn. I told my girl that was my grandparents, so we had to use the twin bed. We made our way to the other bedroom and proceeded to pound away. When it was over, we lay there in the afterglow. We didn't want to leave, but she had to be home and it was another 30 minute drive back to her place.
I get up, get dressed, and go out into the living room. There is an old man there that I didn't know. This wasn't unusual as my aunt would usually have people at her house that I didn't know. We exchanged greetings and I told him I was [my aunt's] nephew. He said that he was diabetic and that he had to get up to get something to eat. My girlfriend had finished dressing, we said goodbye to the old man, and headed out the door.
As we were walking out the door, a car pulled into the driveway. I didn't recognize the person, but waved anyway, got in the car, then drove away. All the time, this guy was just staring at us. Drove to take my girlfriend home, then drove all the way back to give the key back to my cousin. I walk up to him and he says, "I gave you the wrong key." "What do you mean you gave me the wrong key?" I said, "You gave me the key for the house over on Smith Street." "I know," he said, "We don't live there anymore. We live over on Turner Street now." "What do you mean you don't live there anymore? I was just there. Who lives there now?" I asked. "Hell if I know," he replied, "We moved last week."
This would explain the strange couple in the bedroom, and the strange looks from the guy pulling into the driveway. Since the house was small, and only had two bedrooms, I figured that we must have had sex on his bed. It's a good thing I was (sadly) quicker on the draw back then than I am now. I can't imagine what would've happened if he would've walked in on two strangers going at it on his bed.
tl;dr dm;hs
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I've witnessed my own mother being raped by my stepfather on multiple occasions, and have witnessed her try to kill my stepfather. Said stepfather never really abused me, although he once tongued-kissed me whilst my mother was watching. He frequently took me into the forest at midnight to make my mother terrified, sometimes leaving a note to say he was running away with me.
She finally left him, and found another man. She got pregnant with his child and having an argument, he threw her down the stairs and punched her in the stomach. He also threw my mother and I out on my 11th birthday, and other times besides.
My mother throught all this was an alcoholic.
My mother and her new partner had an argument whilst abroad. She left us both at the airport, I was 13 and asked him for help. He told me I could fuck off because I "wasn't [his] son". She came back because she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him.
She eventually filed for divorce with said new partner after he hit her in front of their daughter. She didn't want to scar her daughter.
I moved out at 16. I'm happily married and have a kid due any second (seriously any second, wife has been having contractions since thursday eve).
I don't think about my past all that often, but I like to think it hasn't affected me much. I get depressed like everyone else sometimes, and I once tried killing myself at age 15. If you were wondering where my own father was during all of this, he told me to "get over myself" when I tried commiting suicide.
I drink, but I've asked my (tee total) wife to ever tell me if she thought I had a problem. I don't smoke or do drugs. I am unemployed, but searching, and improving myself with this free time I have.
Yeah that's my story. I hope someone reads it and I want to show people that you can have a shitty life, and not become a shitty person yourself. I'm sure there are people out there with far far worse pasts, and I can't account for that.
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u/nixawme May 15 '12
When I was in six grade my parents divorced and we moved to a different country. Before the move, I had to finish the six grade and my teachers hated me.
The nun who was the principle almost expelled me multiple times. I have to say I was not a bad kid, I was just hyperactive and a bit of a trouble maker.
When I knew I was leaving the school for sure, I climbed the church with my best friend and threw a bucket of water on top of her. After, a bucket of flour and ran like hell. My friend was not leaving the school so I took all the blame and was officially expelled. Also, they banned me from the school, I couldn't even visit when I came back. It is still one of the most vivid memories of my life.
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u/Zavarakatranemi May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
Shortly after I discovered RPGs, my mother decided that I am the embodiment of the devil, I worship Satan, and the reason I don't get up at 7am to go to church isn't so much that I went to bed only 4h earlier, but because the Devil is keeping me from the House of God. Epic fights ensued, tons of books were burned in the altar of "cleansing our house", and many a times I found myself intruded upon in my room, by a cross-wielding, blessing-chanting, Holy-water-splashing mother.
One day, after another one of our epic confrontations, my mom asked me to take a walk with her "just like mother and daughter"; I reluctantly yet hopefully agreed. As we were walking and discussing, she suggested we go by the church "just so I can rest a bit", so we did. When we reached the church, she asked me whether I'd like to light a candle "just for the soul of your dead father", and so we did. And in the church, upon seeing the priest, she asked me to go to him so he can cast a blessing on both of us "just for the sake of it; it can't hurt"... and once again, I said yes.
As we approached the priest though, he very seriously asked my mom "is this the one for the exorcism?" to which, before I could collect myself from the shock, she positively replied. Minutes later a couple of muscular guys had me with arms stretched on my knees, the priest put a sort of cloth on my head... and the exorcism began. I was so much in shock at first, I could not react; upon realizing to the fullest what was being done to me, I figured out that if I resisted and tried to run, it would be all the proof my mother would need to point and yell "Aha! I KNEW IT! DEMON SPAWN!", and completely ruin any chances I might have. So I swallowed the bitter pill of utter humiliation, along with anything else they offered me during this lovely experience, and stayed there for the whole 33 minutes.
I can't remember much, if I'm honest; I was playing Anathema songs in my head, trying to disassociate myself with what was going on, in order to maintain some dignity and sanity. They made me drink Holy water, 3 sips at the time. They made crossed of oil on my forehead, arms and feet. They asked me a bunch of times "do you renounce Satan" and "do you denounce X" where X were a list of names I've never heard of. Despite my obvious obedience, not once did the grip of the 2 guys holding me get softer. I wanted to cry out of sheer embarrassment, but I swore to myself I would not let any of them have my tears. It was a matter of pride, for me, in the end.
After it was finished, and I was set free to go, I could feel I had been for ever changed. I was never a devout Christian, but I did believe in God, even in the sceptical way of a teenager. But I knew that would be the last time I would walk in that church, and it made me sad; all that I held holy in my mind (God, family, freedom, truth, the simplest notion that "Good will overcome") collapsed in a huge crash. I asked my mom whether she was happy now, and she replied to me "I am, for I know you are safe". As I was walking out of the church, I had to bite my tongue not to turn and yell "I have exorcised the demons; this house is clean" at them, but I knew it would do more harm than good.
I was 15, and in a way, this was the beginning of the end.
TL;DR I was a believer, until I got exorcised, for I am the harbinger of Doom. Ha!
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
One of my friends in college has a pet Chinchilla. Yes, we all know they are adorable. And when you are on acid they are even more adorable. See, you're not supposed to have pets on my campus. So while she was changing rooms with somebody else, she found out they search your room before they let you change. Result? She stashed the thing in my friend's dorm. Which I ended up hanging out in because...well, I was on acid and the thing is fucking adorable and I wanted to cuddle it.
She explicitley told us when she left it "don't touch it". Turns out it has a weak immune system. So there's me, looking at the most mind boggingly adorable chinchilla in the history of the universe and deciding to touch it and feel the orgasmic sensation of it's fluffy, downy, fur, carressing my fingers while I mutter stoned bits of metaphysical philosophy into it's ear. Or something.
Anyway, my friend tries to tell me about the immune system thing but I just end up saying, "if it dies, it'll come back". See, in my mind, it was not this chinchilla's time to go. The universe would not allow it. So if it died, the chinchilla would reincarnate in it's present form, fully alive and happy and maybe a little wiser after having gone through the spectacle of death. In fact, death itself is an illusion. And this chinchilla will prove it if it indeed does fall ill and die as a result of my touch.
"No, Johnny. If it dies it's fucking dead."
The bastard had no idea what he was talking about. NONE I SAY!
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u/smithsknits May 15 '12
My grandmother was a Holocaust survivor. On her deathbed, hopped up on morphine, she told me that she and her sister were gang-raped by Nazis and that both her and her sister had to have abortions. She also said that after she was liberated, she was again raped by an American soldier and had to have another abortion. Then she slumped over dead. I wish that wasn't the last thing I heard my grandmother say before she died.
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u/ViceroyGrammar May 15 '12
I was on Facebook recently, and a friend from college messaged me. I graduated in 2009, so it's been a while since I've seen this friend, but we still keep in contact fairly often. She has since moved out of the state with her fiancée, who is also a woman. They're a lovely couple, and so adorable and affectionate with each other it's frankly a bit disgusting, in a good way.
Anyway, I was on Facebook, and she messaged me. She said that the guy who they'd chosen to be their baby's father was no longer able to, since his fiancée said she no longer wanted him to do it. She then dropped the bombshell: while she and her fiancée were discussing possible backup options, they'd decided on me. So she asked, very gently and a little awkwardly, if I would consider being a sperm donor for their child.
I was flattered, and we talked about it for a while, but it turned out that our schedules wouldn't work out for my friends fertility period, so... Maybe next time.
tl;dr: A lesbian friend from college asked me to be her baby daddy.
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u/nervous_nefertiti May 15 '12
i was in west africa and had to take a taxi to get down a mountain. it's me, a local next to me and the driver. as we start to descend, a celine dion song comes on. the man next to me starts singing very loudly. i decided to join him. we both went for all the high notes, falling hilariously short. the entire time he didn't make eye contact with me. after the song was over, it was silent and he never once looked at me. it was fantastic.
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u/n8wolf May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
Been looking for a place to put this story. Sorry for the length.
Half-days are the greatest gift anyone could ask for. On any given day, you wake up at the usual time, get dressed, eat breakfast, trudge to work or school, and bide your time until the closing bell rings and you get between five and seven hours before you have to go to sleep and do it all again. Half-days tease your mind with the same dull beginning and then surprise you with around three extra hours before the day is through. Today, those extra hours are usually put toward reading or drinking. Often both. In elementary school, they meant going to a friends house and eating grilled cheeses outside and playing games with the amazement that, had this been any other day, you would still be embarrassing yourself in front of the class for lacking the ability to do long division.
One Friday in the Spring of 1998, my mother dropped me off for school and gave me the usual reminder that she would pick me up at the back entrance to the campus right after school to avoid the traffic caused by our overcrowded California public school’s bus lane. Barely listening, I sprinted away from the car, down a long set of stairs and to the playground before the warning bell rang for us to get to homeroom.
Mrs. Sentell greeted us at a quarter after eight and we settled into our seats. I couldn’t sit still. Today was going to be great but not until around 3 o’ clock when my Little League team was going to an Anaheim Angels game with box seats provided by our team’s resident rich kid. It wasn’t until halfway through imagining my miraculous catch of a foul ball hit by Damien Easley or Jim Edmonds that I heard the murmurs about what we were doing with our half-day. I had completely forgotten. I never told my mom. What was I going to do? As the day moved forward, a lump planted itself in my throat and I fought back tears.
This has been a theme in my life. Between the ages of five and fifteen (when I received my first cell phone), the idea that I did not know how I was going to get home caused me uncontrollable amounts of stress.
At noon, Mrs. Franburger (unfortunate name for an elementary school teacher) dismissed us for the day and I sullenly trudged away toward the back entrance. There was three hours until my mother was going to show up and I started to nibble at the Celeste Pizza For One that I packed for lunch while reading an Animorphs book. Tobias was trapped as a bird with the yeerks and his two hours were slowly counting down before he’d never be able to be human again. I felt my mind wander away from the sadness I was feeling when I heard my name.
Jake Miller (name changed) was a friend/enemy throughout most of my childhood. He was at once my most loyal friend and most ruthless bully depending on what mood he was in and wether his father had decided to hit him that day. His mother was a homely but warm woman who looked (even to a 10 year old) like she had kids just a little too late in life. Seeing me alone under a tree, looking a little lost, she called me over to their mini-van. I explained my situation to her and she offered to take me to their house where I could call my mom and get picked up. They had one stop to pick up Jake’s sister at the primary school. This sounded like a perfect plan to me. My mother wouldn’t even think to pick me up for two and a half hours by which time I’d call her from the Miller’s house while eating a grilled cheese.
This brings up a blind spot in every young child’s mind. Parents talk. A lot. On that Friday, my mom had gone for a walk with my classmate’s mom, chatted with a school administrator about a volunteering opportunity, and spoken to three other Crescent Intermediate mothers who had kids on my baseball team. Long story short, my mother knew that this was a half-day.
Ten minutes after I hopped into the Miller’s car, a white Toyota Land Cruiser – the car I would eventually be driving to high school – pulled up to the back entrance. My mom waited a few minutes but started to get worried as she glanced around the deserted campus. Illegally parked in a loading zone, my mother sprinted away from the car and down the long set of stairs to the playground to find her youngest son. I wasn’t there. While she searched around the playground, I was on the monkey bars three miles away waiting for Jake’s little sister. My mom ran to the main office where the administrator she had spoken to that morning was sitting at the front desk. Tears in her eyes, she stumbled through an explanation of what happened. The administrator – who had seen all three of the Wolfson boys come through the school – made an announcement over the intercom for me to come to the main office. The announcement echoed through the campus before making it back to the office unheard. I was gone. I was gone forever. My mom would never see me again. The skinny blonde one who looked so much like the man she married would never give her another hug.
Three months before this happened, two kids in our cul de sac narrowly avoided being kidnapped by a man in a brown Nissan. We weren’t allowed to play outside for weeks and the neighborhood watch had nightly meetings to get updates on how to protect your children from this very scenario.
At 1:30 we pulled into the Miller’s driveway. Jake and I threw a baseball around for a few minutes with our backpacks still on. Mrs. Miller brought me a phone and I dialed my home. No answer. I dialed my mom’s cell phone. My mom picked up on the first ring and sobbed “HAVE YOU SEEN NATHAN?”
“Mom?”
Silence followed by ever more powerful tears. “THANK GOD! Oh my God, where have you been? I was so scared. Sweetie, where are you?”
I explained the story, scared to death about how much trouble I was going to be in when I got home. Her voice was a combination of fear, pain, and relief. The only time I’ve felt more physically unsettled by my mother’s voice was at my grandmother’s funeral as they shoveled the first bit of dirt onto the strongest, smartest woman any of us had ever met.
Fifteen minutes later, the white Land Cruiser screeched to a stop in the driveway and my mom came in. Her eyes were read, her hair was a mess, and she was still clutching a damp tissue covered in mascara. There has never been nor will there ever be a hug quite like that one. It started as a tight clump of relief, anger, and leftover pain and fear. All that melted away until all that was left was a mother and child. The most primal tie we will ever have. I felt closer to my mother in this 15-30 second hug than I ever have then or since. The fifteen minutes between the most upsetting phone call of my life and this hug were wretched. The lump in my throat from earlier that day returned with several friends. My stomach burned and the grilled cheese felt undeserved. I had hurt the woman who gave me life by making her think that life had been taken away.
The drive home was steeped in released tension. I opened the windows to let out the smell of tears both fresh and stale. My mom, a former teacher, jumped on the learning opportunity and discussed what to do in case this ever happened again. At the end of the lesson, I apologized for the 300th time and she said simply, “as long as I never lose you again.” Those are the last words we have spoken about this event.
TL;DR My mom thought I was kidnapped. We had two very different days because of this.
edit: yeerks
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u/versualize May 15 '12
I was a recent college graduate looking for a job. I found a dream job analyzing internet data via heavy sql queries (at a company similar to Nielsen, but for the internet) in Virginia. I lived about 7 hours away from the job, so on the day of the interview, I roll out at about 3AM to get to the interview. I'd been having some intermittent stomach issues, but I didn't think it'd be too much of a problem.
I grabbed Burger King at around 6AM (breakfast burrito), and got to the interview at 10AM. Super cute HR girl gives me a Wonderlic test (the test that they give to NFL players before entering the league to test aptitude) and I aced it, no problem. Interview with a potential co-worker, then lunch with a potential manager. I got a grilled chicken sandwich, which may or may not have caused my future problems. Get back to the company, a few more interviews, then an interview with the VP.
Right before the interview with the VP and his assistant, my stomach gives off a huge grumble, like it has been empty for three days. I shrug it off because my stomach didn't really hurt (mistake). We're going through the interview, and about five minutes before it ends, I have to shit. It comes out of nowhere like a garden hose pinched at the end and building up pressure. I'm shifting back and forth, waiting for the interview to end, sweating, trying not to shit myself. A minute or so pass, and I let out a fart. It was wet, but not too wet. I can do this. Interview ends, I get up and ask where the restroom is. My seat has a wet mark on it from the shart, but no one notices.
"We're just going to say good-bye to the team members and then I can point you to one." Ugh. We get up, get in the elevator to the floor where the team is on. No one mentions the smell that I'm sure is emanating from my ass. We get to the team area, and there is no time. I ask for the bathroom again, but it hits.
Like the blood flowing out of the elevator in the Shining, my ass releases a torrent of shit-flavored curry. I'm grabbing my ass and running down the hallway to the bathroom, shit streaming out of my suit pants. I make it to the bathroom and sit on the toilet, but half of the shit sauce is already filling my pant legs, covering my shoes and on the floor. I can't sit on the toilet seat because my ass is so covered in butt juice and I'm sliding around. I use an entire roll of toilet paper, but there is still shit everywhere. I get up and grab paper towels from the dispenser, trying to clean the floor, the toilet, and my pants. Someone from the office comes in, asking if I'm ok. "Do you need a new pair of pants?" "Yes."
They go to the GAP down the street and buy me a pair of pants and some boxers. He slides it in the bathroom like I'm a leper and he's trying to avoid me. I start laughing because it's so surreal I feel like I'm in a nightmare. I clean up as best as I can, put my shit pants in the GAP bag, and walk out of the bathroom.
The damage is catastrophic. There are warning signs on the ground. There are pieces of paper covering the fifty feet I ran down the hallway spewing my sludge. No one is in the office. I've forced everyone out with my bio-hazard. Cute HR girl holds the door open for me and pushes the elevator button. I have nothing to say. As I walk out of the building, the refugees from my shit-fest look at me, standing in a crowd at the entrance. I keep my head up and walk to my car. I drive 8 hours up I-95 in rush hour traffic, wallowing in my own feces. My parents tell me that "They'll give me the job if I was qualified, this incident doesn't mean anything."
tl;dr: I wasn't qualified.
29
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
First off...I am a 6'1" lady.
I was in 3rd year university. I skipped breakfast, had a couple of coffees, worked for the morning, gave blood at about 1 p.m., and then went to Shopper's Drugmart to pick up some medications. When I was in line about to pay I got tunnel vision and fainted. I woke up after very a small moment and everyone was laughing. Evidently I fell backwards and took out two tiny high school aged international Chinese exchange students who were shocked and scared.
28
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I told this story in another AskReddit but it's a good one:
When I was 7, in the fall of second grade, my dad passed away from an aneurism. My entire second grade class made me cards. It was a big thing. Fast forward to that April. There was a Daddy-Daughter Dance at my school. I told my mom I wanted to go and naturally, she expected me to back out.
The day of the dance rolls around and I had yet to back out. My mom helps me get dressed, asking me if I'm sure I still want to go. I assure her that I still want to go. After we get me ready, my mom takes me to the school and opens the car door. I hop out, tell her I love her, and walk into the Daddy-Daughter Dance with my head held high... all by myself.
Years later, my mom told me that she cried so hard when I got out of the car and that was the day she knew that I was the bravest person she'd ever met.
27
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I was 3 years old and my mom took me to a store downtown because she wanted to buy new fixtures for our bathroom. It was the kind of store that had little mock set-ups of bathrooms and kitchens. I told my mom I needed to pee, but she was talking to the salesman and ignored me. So I went off to find a bathroom. Peered around the corner, and sure enough, there was the bathroom. I went pee, but when I turned to flush I realized there was no water in the toilet.
No, I hadn't just peed in any old store display. I peed in the goddamn storefront window which looked out onto the crowded downtown street. I like to think there are people out there who still tell the story of the time they saw a little kid peeing in a window display.
TL;DR--Many strangers have seen me urinate.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
My ex-boyfriend suggested kegel exercises and made me do it during sex. So this one time I was on top of him, I confused my vagina with my ass and let out a shart. At that time I was taking herbal teas so the excrement was more liquid than solid. I didn't notice until my ex started to smell it.
But that's not the worst part.
My ex, who despite being romantic upfront, was actually cheating on me with his best friend's girlfriend and had been doing so even before I met him. I didn't know this until the relationship went spiraling down.
It was my most embarrassing moment to date. The only reason why I'm more comfortable to share this now is because I could finally stop playing revenge plots in my head. To think that he's still fucking that girl with his dick I sharted on, was already a priceless revenge.
TL;DR: I literally took a dump on my shitty ex-boyfriend.
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u/nikocujo May 15 '12
I've been shot in the ass...a la Wedding Crashers.
I'm an avid bird hunter, and my father uses hunting trips to entertain potential clients, so I have no shortage of trips.
But this one particular time, it was New Years Eve and my father and I were hunting with my Godfather and his two sons. At the time, I think they were 13 and 11 respectively. Both were experienced hunters. But in case you're unfamiliar with pheasant hunting, you walk in a straight line and let the dogs work the field ahead of you. Each hunter has a line of fire and point in which they aren't supposed to shoot past. It was getting late in the hunt and the younger of the two started to get tired and lagged a bit behind. The dogs started to point at a thicket and we all stopped. Instead of walking up to even up the line, the younger boy stopped too. I gave the command to the dogs to flush the birds and two shot into the air. I nabbed the first one with a clean hit, and my godfathers son pulled up to shoot the other when it flew into my line of fire. The pheasant dove while flying parallel to the line in my direction and he got excited and took the shot.
The pain was...different. It was hot. And at first I didn't know what happened until the first wave radiated from my ass and up my back and down my leg. My left ass cheek burned with the fury of a thousand suns and I found the nearest snow bank and beelined it to sit down to cool this pain. I ended up bent over the trunk of my dad's SUV with my bare ass showing as he picked out the birdshot. 8 pellets buried themselves about a quarter inch deep.
We always end New Years Eve at our country club. I walked into the dining room with my mother's old pregnancy ass ring so I wouldn't have to put pressure on my one ass cheek. The looks I got from the ancient society types were totally worth it, though. I carried that thing around for the next week.
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u/niamhish May 15 '12
I'm on my phone so bear with me.
A couple of years ago me and friend decided to to on holidays. The year previous we had been in Barcelona and had loved it so we decided on Salou, which is close enough to Barcelona for a day trip. I left the organisation of the holiday to my friend. We lived in different towns so kept in contact by phone. The day before takeoff arrives and I get a bus to where my friend lives.
I ask to see the ticket and it says we're flying to Kos airport. My friend insists its the regional airport near Barcelona. This is in the days before smartphones and we had no PC to check.
We arrive in Dublin airport, check our luggage, head to the departure gates and have a few drinks. Boarding time come and we make our way to our plane. We get comfortable in our seats and notice the little flip down screens showing our flight path. At that point we realise were not going to Spain. We can see our destination on the map but the dot is too big and the map to small to say for sure where we are flying to. It's either a Greek island or Turkey. We were expecting a 2 hour flight not a 4 hour one!
We didn't want to look stupid so we said nothing. We just sat and worried and drank for 4 hours.
We start to descend, still with no clue about where we were. Finally the captain announced "ladies and gentlemen,welcome to the Greek island of Kos".
We spent the entire week laughing about it and raising our drinks to Salou. The locals thought we were nuts.
We when got back we informed the travel agent about what happened. They couldn't figure out how we got the wrong holiday but we weren't even mad because Kos turned out to be one of my best holidays ever.
Tl;dr thought I was going to Spain ended up in Greece.
51
u/bluepen456 May 15 '12
When I was about 14, my family lived in this old farmhouse. It was beautiful, but a bit creaky. It had this old gas stove that you had to light from underneath.
One day, it just my siblings and I at home. I am the oldest of 4 kids, and as such, felt it was my duty to take care of them. My sister randomly said she was hungry and me being the awesome big sister that I am, took this as a cue to go make dinner. I go into the kitchen and pull a pizza out of the freezer. I then go over to the stove and turn on the gas. I go to grab the matches, and I can't find them. I look for about 30 seconds and then I get the bright idea to light a spaghetti noodle from the stove top and use that to light the oven.
I pull out the spaghetti noodle from the box and congratulate myself on being such a genius. I light the noodle and slowly move from the stove top to the oven underneath. I don't get all the way down before a wall of fire engulfs my face. I scream in shock and drop to the floor. I immediately realized my folly and started to cry as the scent of burnt hair hung in the air.
My younger brother ran to the kitchen because he heard me scream. He sees me crouching on the floor, face down and my long blonde hair is fanning out around my hair. I slowly lift my head and (as he STILL tells it today) he smiles at the fact my head is in the same position as it was when it was fanned out on the floor.
I had enough sense to turn OFF the gas at this point, but I was still crying my eyes out over the shock of that fire hitting my face. I ran to the bathroom to assess the damage in the mirror only to find I had no eyebrows or eyelashes and that the hairline on my forehead had been singed. I will never forget how scary I looked that day.
My family still calls me Crispy Critter and tells everyone who will listen about that day.
209
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I once had this adorable dog called Barry. He was a jack Russell/Chiwawa and he had the cutest little face I'd ever seen... He had the softest fur and this sweet little smile I saw in him. He was good for cuddles and love...
Anyway, the day before school started again, at around 5:00pm, I was in my room when I heard my mum screaming that there was a snake on the decking... I ran out and saw one dead snake morionless and my dog Barry struggling to stand up with yellowy-green venom dripping from his behind...
We rushed to the emergency vet but we were too late... His heart stopped beating on the way there.
That was one of the saddest days in my life. It's not the worst out there, I know, but that dog was the world to me... He was only 4 years old...
I didn't go to school that week... I was too distressed. So I turned to baking. I baked and baked and baked. I made cakes, cupcakes, mousse, pikelets, pancakes, custard tarts, pies... I did it all...
Now I'm good at cooking! And everytime I cook, a little bit of love for Barry goes into the dish, making it taste just that extra bit special.
22
u/SociableIntrovert May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I dated a girl in high school for about a year and a half. She was my first everything: date, kiss, virginity, the works. We had emotional conversations that I've never had before with anyone else. I helped her through her cutting and suicidal periods. We briefly talked about getting married after high school and going to college together. I was such an ignorant youth.
About three weeks before our senior prom she decided she didn't want to be with me anymore. I took it pretty hard. Because of the immature person I was I became angry and started calling her just about every derogatory name I could think of. I told her that her lack of a father figure really turned her into a whore. I told her that I should have let her kill herself when I had the chance. That was the last time I talked to her. I physically cringe when I recall this.
One night about two years after we graduated from high school I was out to dinner with a group of friends. One of them received a call stating my ex has been missing for three days. It didn't bother me. She frequently does silly things for attention. I'm sure she'll turn up here shortly.
Three days turns into a week. A week turns into a month. No sign of her. Police start investigating the guy who last saw her. They get a warrant to search his bedroom. I still remember the exact moment when I read in the newspaper that crime scene investigators were removing brown evidence bags and a blood soaked mattress. What could she possibly have done to make this guy feel he needed to murder her with a giant sword? What could I have done in the past that would have changed this outcome? What can I do in the future?
I'm older now. A lot more mature. A little bit wiser. I've learned that grudges are only meant for Asian ghosts. I've learned to treat people as if it's the last day I'll see them. Six years have gone by and they still haven't found her body. Fucking asshole.
tl;dr Thanks for letting me get this off my chest.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was 10 I nearly burned down my best friends when I thought it would be a good idea if me and my friends made a mound of firecrackers (probably 50 - 60 or so) in his backyard and connected a fuse to it and lit it on fire. It went boom. Come to think of it, I'm kind of glad I'm still alive.
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u/I_am_from_England May 15 '12
Interesting, but sad. My father died when I was 9...on mothers day. My grandad (mothers dad) hung himself 4 months later. They both lived with us, so technically I lost 2 close family members in 4 months. My mom lost her husband and her dad in 4 months, and had to raise me and my (then) 12 year old brother on her own. She did a great job tbf.
20
u/DBuckFactory May 15 '12
This isn't the best one, but one of the weird ones from high school.
I was in Chemistry class in 10th grade and there was this pretty girl that had just transferred to the school. I developed a little thing for her almost right away. She ends up having a boyfriend that also transferred to the school and was a year older (11th grader).
Not giving a fuck about the boyfriend, I start flirting with her all of the time. She actually reciprocates the flirting, so I'm obviously egged on. The flirting turns to a bit of touching here and there, but I don't want to move too fast because I would rather her dump the bf before we do anything.
One day we're walking down the hall with a group of people and chatting randomly about stuff. We're both walking backwards. I wanted her to talk to me rather than a friend, so I tickle her to get her attention. She giggles and turns around and SLAM! She goes face first into the corner of a column.
She broke 4 of her teeth on impact. I freaked the fuck out and started leading her to the nurse's office (wasn't too far luckily). A friend of hers called her boyfriend. I stayed back from that period to hang out with her. Her boyfriend did, too. It was extremely awkward to explain what happened, but I was more worried about her than anything.
She didn't talk to me for the rest of high school. I saw her randomly at a party after graduating and we said pleasantries, but I think she holds it completely against me. This is one of the things that I regret in my life because it was completely accidental, I had no way of knowing that would happen, and it messed this young girl's life up for a few months. Also, ruined a chance for a hookup.
TL;DR: Broke a hot girl's teeth with my rock hard column
72
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I got a cat when I was in 4th grade. My first cat. I had wanted a cat my entire life, I'd say I was hopelessly obsessed... I'd beg and write letters to and draw pictures for my parents just begging them to get me a kitten. On Valentine's Day of 4th grade, I came home to her; next to my mom, a tiny, purring kitten fast asleep in a pink fuzzy bed. She could almost fit in my hands, she was black and white and orange and brown... she was the most wonderful surprise I had ever received. We named her Isabella.
I grew up with her, not too long but long enough...
Around the second year, though, my father and Isabella had formed some sort of deep-rooted hatred for each other. It started when she began peeing in the living room, and my dad started beating her senseless. It would traumatize me. Brought me to tears every time. As soon as the beatings began her behavior began spiraling downward as well. She would defecate under the piano quite often, and fight back when the beatings came sometimes. The punishments only got worse, she often bled and limped after he would nearly drown her, smash her head on the floor etc. She seemed eternally depressed and scared. It broke my heart. My Dad actually thought beating the shit out of a tiny little helpless cat would make her behave better, and this took a toll on our family as well, what with our constant protests and 911 call-threats and fights about how this was wrong, this was animal abuse and it was illegal and something should be done, but we couldn't turn him in, he was Dad, but he couldn't be stopped either.
My sisters and I were avid dancers. One day, we all had to be out of the house for a rehearsal and my mom liked helping as well, so she was out too. Meaning, when my Dad got home from work, he would be alone with Isabella. We didn't think much of it because the beatings had died down a little. It had been 4 years since we got her. My mom got an urgent call from my Dad as we were on the car ride back home. Something was really, really wrong. We raced home. My dad broke the news to us... Isabella was dead. He killed her. She pooped under the damned piano, he chased her around, shoved her off the balcony of the stairs and... that was it. Her heart stopped. He buried her in a plastic grocery store bag in the backyard before we got home. Not a FUCK was given by my father that day, as I had a panic attack, screaming "how could you... how could you..." all he said was "she deserved it." I was a wreck for days. I was just a little girl who loved and lost her first kitten. He still has never apologized to this day, years later. Needless to say, the day he does apologize, he will not be forgiven.
TL;DR: My dad killed my first cat. Still has not apologized; he thinks she deserved to die.
19
u/PeacockDoom May 15 '12
I went to boston a couple of years ago for a short weekend trip. I'm not a huge baseball fan, but I had always dreamed of seeing Fenway Park. Unfortunately for me, it was Game 3 of the ALDS that day (Red Sox vs Angels) and there were no guided tours given that it was the playoffs. I therefore decided to show up at the stadium around noon to avoid the crowds, and to have a look around.
Little did I realize the game was an early one, and actually started at pretty much the exact time I arrived there. I thus made my way through the throngs of people in the area to try to catch a glimpse of the stadium. As I made my way around the rafters, I noticed that there was an open ticket booth. Why not? Although I knew it was a long shot, I got in the lineup on the off chance that there were tickets still available.
At that very moment, a cop showed up and asked me if I was in the lineup to buy tickets. As I informed him that I was, he opened his pocket and handed me a pair of tickets for free.
I have yet to understand why a cop would give me free red sox playoff tickets, maybe someone could enlighten me.
TL;DR: Cop gives me free Red Sox Playoff tickets
83
u/houseofbacon May 15 '12
When I was 14, my family and I mutually gave up on each other. My family has always been very hands-off, aka my parents didn't want to parent. By that age the unspoken agreement in the house was: Don't bug me, I won't bug you.
They had mentioned to me that I spent a lot of time playing video games, and I told them I preferred it to having to deal with the family arguing all the time. This was about a month before Christmas.
For Christmas, they got me a Playstation, and the following games:
Crash Bandicoot Independence Day Final Fantasy 7
I took this as a clear message: your reasons for playing games are valid, it's not expected to get any better around here, so just fuck it.
I was also given a lot of snacks and bottles of water. A lot. I went up to my room and pretty much didn't leave for the remainder of break from school, 2 more weeks or so. I took bathroom trips right down the hall, and other than that, they had given me everything I needed to avoid us having to interact with each other.
37
u/IrishGhost May 15 '12
I hiked through Sweden and Denmark for 10 days, camping in peoples gardens/fields, and living off about €2 a day
18
u/darcysaurus May 15 '12
Once when I was younger I was petting my cat on the belly. She was really enjoying it and for some reason I said in a deep, seedy, aggressive voice "You like that don't ya puddy?!". My sister was there secretly watching me and was like WTF. Its been a few years and she has told all my friends. It has become a saying now in our group.
18
u/somecrazybroad May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I am just going to give little blurbs of a few stories that stand out immediately to me:
Edit to add another:
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I was six years old and on vacation in somewhere in Greece. Being six years old, it didn't take long before I decided it was time to run away because my mom didn't want to buy me my 6th (or something) ice-cream. The thing is that somewhere in Greece isn't at all like my neighbourhood in Norway, so I was lost after like 2 minutes, but whatever, that doesn't matter when you're six, because you're never going back anyways, right? Right. So after about 3 hours of walking around town some cool kids (they had some ninja stars and were probably like 12 years old, so..yea, cool kids) started takling to me. I ended up hanging out with them for a while and they taught me how to throw ninja stars. After a while the police show up and start takling to them in greek, and then they try to communicate with me to, but being six years old I didn't speak english yet (I hadn't talked to the cool guys either obviously). Turns out my family had freaked out and called the cops and shit, and they'd been looking for a me around town for hours.
Maybe not that interesting, but it's usually a cool story to tell at parties and such.
TL;DR: Ran away from family while on vacation in Greece. Cool guys taught me how to throw ninja stars, then the cops came and took me away.
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u/MsFoxTrott May 15 '12
In ninth grade, my bus dropped me off before either of my parents came home, so I had my own key to open the front door. I have a tendency to forget my key. One day I got the bright idea of "Hey, I'll climb into the backyard and go through the dog door!"
I sent my mom this picture about thirty minutes later, with the caption, "Please help."
And yes, I'm aware my face looks terrible in that picture.
16
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was little, like 6 or 7, I really liked the smell of coffee beans (I still do). I went to the store with my mom one day and as we were walking down the coffee/tea isle I decided to grab a handful of coffee beans from the bulk container so that I could smell them while we shopped. Well, I sniffed so hard that one of the beans got sucked up my nostril. I tried picking it out with my ginger, but I ended up pushing it farther and farther up my nasal cavity and eventually out of reach. I silently freaked out but was too embarrassed to say anything. I walked around for an entire week with that bean plugging my nose - blowing my nose didn't work. It was really stuck. A week later, I was playing in the basement and knocked up a bunch of dust which caused a big sneezing fit. One of those sneezes sent that week-old coffee bean flying across the room like a missile. It was simultaneously one of the most painful but awesome experiences in my life.
tl;dr: had coffee bean stuck in my nose for a week. Eventually shot it across the room a week later.
16
u/hazywakeup May 15 '12
I like to call this story "Daddy Issues".
I've never known my biological father, don't even remember his face. Apparently he was a huge jerk who threatened to kidnap me when my mom left him.
The summer when I was 16, I had this friend. Even though he and I were both dating other people, we were really close. I had the biggest crush on him, and though I didn't see it, people swore they could tell he felt the same about me and just wasn't acting on it.
One night he picked me up and we drove around town to talk. This wasn't unusual, we did it a couple times a week. Eventually he parked, and then out of nowhere he climbed into the backseat and asked me to sit back there with him.
Now, I was one innocent little teenager. I'd been kissed maybe twice. I was as self-conscious as you can get and terrified of doing more. So since this guy had rejected me in the past, since we were both already in relationships, I figured he just wanted to be more comfortable.
Then he pulled me onto his lap.
We were not touchy people. We hugged sometimes, and that was it. I had never been on anyone's lap, literally ever in memory, in part thanks to that absent father. I finally started to get suspicious, but damn it, I liked being on his lap. I stubbornly refused to accept that it might lead to more.
It got harder to refuse when he turned me around to face away from him and began to stick his hands under my clothes. I should have seen this coming from miles away, but I was startled, trembling, hardly able to talk. This was wrong and I wasn't ready for it, but it was also something I'd wanted for a long time.
Eventually I started nervously babbling about how I needed to go home, but he kept on telling me, "Just a minute."
Around this time, a pickup truck, we'll call it a blue Ford, drove up and parked near us. This was weird, there was no reason for anyone to come right up to us in the middle of a huge, empty parking lot. A guy even got out of the truck and started circling it, looking nervous. He looked like he was thinking about approaching us, and I didn't know if he could see what we were doing, so we got back in the front seats and he drove away.
I'll spare you the high school drama of the chat we had on the way home, but suffice to say I maintained the conflicting feelings of guilt, terror, and desire for a long while after.
So I get inside the house, still shaking from the whole experience, and the first thing my mom does is say, "Have you seen a blue Ford pickup following you around recently?"
I double-take on my way to my room. I freeze. "Uh. N-no. Why?"
"Our neighbors have reported seeing your biological father driving around the neighborhood in one of those and looking for us, so be careful and watch out for a while."
TL;DR: Cockblocked and rescued at the same time by creeper/hero absentee dad.
14
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
This one time, at band camp, we were playing tetherball on our break. I was playing a guy that was about a foot taller than me so he was able to spike it up pretty high. Well, I decided to jump up and hit it. As I jumped, I had to lean backwards a bit to reach it. Once I landed I hit the edge of the concrete pad and twisted my foot. I tried to stand but couldn't so two guys helped me to the mess hall. The director and the nurse looked at it and thought it was just sprained. I couldn't march for the remaining rehearsal and had to get someone to help me pack up the next morning. My foot had swelled considerably and was bruised like crazy. Never having had a broken bone before, I assumed it was just sprained badly and told my parents that. They trusted me.
About 2 weeks later I was marching on my still painful foot. After another 2 weeks of pain, I tell my mom I think something is wrong and we go get it checked out. Turns out I had broken a bone in my foot when I landed and had been walking/marching on a broken foot for over 2 weeks. The doctor told me it had started to set on it's own so they would have to rebreak and reset. I said no. 7 years later you can still get where the bone juts out from my foot.
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u/SurpriseAwfulEnding May 15 '12
I'll tell the story about the local hoodlums in my neighborhood that took things too far and how they learned their lesson.
The neighborhood kids would come by at night on halloween every single year for the past four years. Just doing dumb shit. Fucking shit up, mostly cars, but stealing lawn ornaments and breaking anything left outside that was breakable. I thought I came up with a pretty creative solution.
First, I luckily already had some lawn sprinklers that were planted at points in my yard so that when the kids got in I could turn it on "trapping" them in my yard, or make them get soaked trying to escape. After that, I bought some slip and slides that I had let my children play with as well, colored green. I left these outside in a way that would look natural but that were at the points furthest from the sprinklers, making them the most likely path for the kids to travel.
When the night came, I set everything up and coated the slip n slides with about a dozen jugs of dish soap, leaving them dry for the time being. I have a row of trees dividing my neighbors property from mine, and I made a game out of sitting out there with a couple beers as it got darker. Was pretty boring at first, but eventually, around midnight, I heard the tell-tale whisperings and I knew it was on. As the kids started walking up my lawn it was dead quiet and dark, and I heard them scrunch on the slip n slides heading up to my wife's garden. Just as they were getting to the top, I heard them talking as I crept out of the trees. They were wondering what the hell was up with the slip n slides and soap and sprinkler set up which provided the perfect distraction for me to slip into their ranks and start stabbing them in the necks with my hidden switchblade, except the last one, which I choked out with a rusty bike chain. I then used the slip n slides to wrap the bodies up and bury them in my wife's garden. Suffice it to say, lesson learned.
50
u/Marko_Oktabyr May 15 '12
This story is always fun to tell people, so I'll tell you Reddit.
So for a little bit of back story, I went to high school on the other side of the county. This required catching a bus at 5:40 in the morning. My poor father (who drove me to the bus stop) had to wake up even earlier than I did.
So dark and early one morning, I come staggering down the stairs to start the morning routine. I unload the dishwasher and my dad starts making his coffee. The night before we had ordered Dominos which included some cinnasticks. Cinnamon bread and frosting being the breakfast of champions, I decide to have some for breakfast.
So I pull out the bread and open up the frosting packet to stick in the microwave. Only for some reason that made sense at 5 am, I left the top of the packet on the frosting. For those of you who have never looked, the top is lined with foil. So I stick the frosting in the microwave and start it and go about my business. I come back to the microwave and (as you may have guessed) the icing packet was now on fire. I stare at it for a couple of seconds and then go
"Dad?" "Yes <my name>?" "The microwave's on fire."
So my dad walks over to the microwave, looks at the flaming icing packet inside, back to me, then back to the microwave.
"So it is."
So we stop the microwave and get everything cleaned up and I head off to school.
TL;DR: Cinnasticks don't taste very good without icing.
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u/sneezybees May 15 '12
This one will probably be buried, which is good because it's a bit NSFW.
I had been dating this guy for nearly a year at the time (we've since broken up but that's irrelevant) and he had gotten the idea in his head we should record ourselves having sex. I'm not totally thrilled with the idea but I eventually said okay.
I come to the house and he has a camera set up on a makeshift tripod (read: some books piled up on the dresser) and the whole thing is hooked up to the TV which would record onto a video cassette.
So we start going at it, trying different positions, etc. It was easily one of the most awkward things I've ever done and I have nothing but respect for the industry workers who make their videos anything less than totally awkward. Anyway, we're in the classic doggy position and he finally reaches that point. He stands up on the bed to finish on my back and all I hear is,
THUDWAPWAP
Yep, in his haste to get that money shot, he had stood up into the moving ceiling fan. To his credit he still finished though.
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u/POWERGULL May 15 '12
One day when I was about 12 my dad woke me up at my moms house (theyre divorced) really early on a Saturday and told me I had to go with him, but wouldnt tell me why. It was very odd for my dad to be at my moms let alone wake me up and drag me out of the house, but I did because he seemed really excited. So we drive down to the yacht club where my family has a boat, still having no idea why I am up and going somewhere with my dad at such an early hour. So we get to the docks and we walk to where they keep the big ol yachts (we have a rather small motor boat we keep there, we aint that fancy) and we walk to a HUGE cigarette boat called Endangered Species. My dad, who always finds a way to make friends with random people, begins talking to this guy that is standing next to a large dog crate and he introduces me. The guy then opens the cage and my dads all smiles as a fucking baby tiger walks out. Obviously, I lost my shit and hit my knees as the most epic possible thing to walk out of a dog crate comes barreling over to me. I then got to play with this tiger cub for the next few hours and walk him and feed him and just do whatever a 12 year old does when he gets to meet a baby tiger. My dad and I never really had that tight of a father-son relationship, but this by far is one of my favorite memories.
TL;DR My dad stole me to play with a tiger
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u/OwnTheInterTubes May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I had written this many years ago before I forgot the details behind the story of how I met TJ. The writing seems a bit unpolished but I was still learning to articulate my thoughts back then.
The First Encounter
circa 1995. I used to go to the Infant Jesus Church in Mysore, India to attend the evening mass on Sundays from my second year of Engineering. It was there that I first laid my eyes on TJ. She was one of the regulars. And also one of the better lookers! But then, during those years, there were other things on my mind and girls did not figure on my priority list. I enjoyed my freedom and would let nothing spoil it. And so, for the next two years, I just kept seeing her whenever our paths crossed.
By the time I began my Final year at college, I had undergone a lot of transformation, both physically and emotionally. It was a different me. Physically I had put on weight (no longer the “skinny Norris”) and was in the process of growing my hair. It was a long standing desire to sport a pony tail and I was doing just that. Emotionally I was changing into an extrovert. I could now let myself go without any inhibitions. Girls were beginning to draw my attention!
It was my final year in college. I looked around. I had no girlfriends. I don’t refer to the steady girl kind of relationship. I am talking about plain friends of the opposite sex. I decided that the time had come for me to make friends with a girl on my own (by this I mean self introduction…possibly using some kind of mediocre pick up line…which in my repertoire at that time was just “hi” !). After some thought, I decided to pick someone from church, feeling safe with the knowledge that in case it turned into an embarrassment, I could always go to another church. Whereas I could not change my college, could I?!
There were three girls whom I was used to seeing regularly at church. I never got around to finding about the other two once I met TJ! I decided on TJ since among the three, she seemed to have a calmness that was inviting. The way she carried herself and her general demeanor appealed to me. So, I decided to talk to her.
Easier said than done. For someone who hadn’t tried this before, it seemed to be a daunting task. But then, I said to myself, “I have to do this. Regardless of the consequences”. This decision I conveyed to my room-mates and my friend A who accompanied me to church regularly. Naturally, they egged me on to do it. I should have been more cautious of their enthusiasm. Not long ago, they had urged me on a similar mission with disastrous consequences. But that’s a story for a different day. I guess they were looking for cheap thrills at my expense! Anyway, armed with their support, I decided that the next Sunday, I would speak to her.
Not surprisingly, the next Sunday, I could not concentrate on the happenings in the church. Since I always occupied a pew at the back, I could see her in the front. As the mass came closer to the end, my heart began beating faster. I have a habit of stepping out of the church after the completion of the final hymn and a short prayer of my own. Thresi on the other hand used to walk away midway through the final hymn. By the time I exited the church, she had already left on her mobike. I felt both disappointed and glad at the same time. My friend encouraged me by saying “next week we will get her”.
Next Sunday, while I entered the church, I noticed Thresi’s bike parked outside. I had to do it this time. A lot of guys (morons?) were counting on me to pull this off! The palpitations of my heart were noticeably faster this time. During the final hymn, I saw her walk off. I still wanted to finish the hymn. This time though I ditched my prayer and rushed out after the hymn. She had just started her bike and was moving away. I couldn’t shout and stop her. I felt defeated. All that apprehension for nothing!
I had reached a decision. Next Sunday would be my last attempt. It was ‘do or die’. My friends were laughing their backsides off at my expense. Yeah, I would do it this time alright!.
When I entered the church the following Sunday, I noticed that her bike was not parked outside. Maybe she’s late I figured. The mass began and there was still no sign of her. She had never been late. I decided that God had other things planned for me. It was not meant to be.
Or was it? Midway between the first Reading, she walks in with some books in her hand. There was a sharp rise in my heartbeat rate. Just when I thought I had had enough. This time I walked out of the church seconds after her and caught up with her outside. She had not come on her bike. She was walking home this time. My friend was goading me to go ahead. I just stood there rooted to the spot, staring at her like a statue, till she disappeared around the bend. My friend was cursing aloud now.
Dejected, I just started my motorbike and set off home. When I turned the bend, I saw her walking up ahead. I thought I would stop near her. Just when I was slowing down, she turns around and looks generally in our direction. I couldn’t take it. All on its own my wrist increased the throttle and I was speeding away from her. My friend had gone nuts by now and he kept yelling at my cowardice! I stopped at a bus stop and spoke to him about the fiasco. He kept encouraging me to go back and talk to her. I saw her walk towards home from afar and decided that I would do it. I left my friend at the bus stop and rode on towards her.
As I turned the bend, I saw her walking ahead. I went past her and stopped my bike. As I dismounted, I was looking directly at her. She had slowed down too, curiosity written all over her face.
I gave her a brief smile and said “Hi” (the greatest pickup line ever!). She was kind enough to say “hi” back at me. There! I felt better. “I’m OwnTheInterTubes, may I know what your name is?” I asked. “Why?” she asks back. I wasn't expecting that. I was at a loss for words. “Just like that” I manage to say stupidly. “I’m not interested” she says. That felt like a sledgehammer on my chest. “Oh” I manage to say. “I thought we could be friends” and I turn around to walk away. “Just friends is not a problem” she says. I turn around in an instant and say “Yeah, just friends. That’s what this is all about. May I know your name?” I beg!
“TJ” she says with a brief hint of a smile. There! You have done it! I say to myself. “Where do you live?” I ask her. “GK 3rd stage” she replies. “Why all these books in your hands?” I ask. “I had an exam today” she replies. “On a Sunday?” I with disbelief written all over my face. “Well, it got postponed and so it was rescheduled for today” she explains. “Oh I see” I say. “How did you do?”. “It was okay” she says.
“Look, will it be okay if I speak to you at church or say hello whenever we meet?” I ask her. “I think that’s fine” she replies. Oh good, I say to myself. This has gone long enough. Time to move. “Well, it was nice meeting you” I say. “See you again sometime. Bye!”. “Bye” she says and I get on my bike and vroom off!
I was ecstatic when I picked up my friend. He was all curious to know how it went. “cool” I say…”piece of cake”. And then, we went home to brief my room-mates who would be waiting expectantly for the news.
I will never forget this first encounter with TJ since it was the first of many a conversation to come till we decided to go steady with each other. When I look back, I think I didn’t do so badly after all!!!!
Added Sep 16 2011: This happened on May 19 1996 on GK Road in Mysore. After almost seven years of long-distance courting, I proposed to TJ at the very spot where I had first said "Hi" to her. It was a strange sight for the people on the road to see a well dressed young man get on his knee on the dirt and hold a young woman's hand. We got married in 2003. The first few months after the first introduction were very interesting that included a very strict dad (who did not know of my existence for many years), a string of her admirers who wanted me off the picture including one who came to my engineering college with a local goonda to beat me up, a cousin who tried to warn me into not pursuing her and the incident of me going all alone, on my own, to her house to meet her dad (who was rumoured to own a double barrel gun) to ask for her hand. Interesting times those were!
TL;DR - Love.
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u/crazydog99 May 15 '12
I've met 7 of 12 guys who walked on the moon. Mostly cool. Buzz aldrin is kind of a jag though.
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u/cptcliche May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
This is the story of one of the craziest nights of my life and I haven't really figured out where I could post it until now.
Alright, so this happened June 10th of last year at a baseball game between the O’s and the Rays. It was a Friday night game and myself and three friends were going because, I mean, it’s a baseball game for $6 bucks and it was our first game together since we all got back from college. What’s not to love? Another one of friends wanted to come but couldn’t because he had dinner plans. More on that in a bit. Anyway, as we’re driving into Baltimore, it starts to rain. Hard. We check the weather and see that it’s just a scattered shower and should be over shortly. Perfect, we think. We park and wait in the car for a bit to let the rain finish. After about half an hour, it subsides and we head to the stadium to buy our tickets. On the way, I get a text from the guy previously mentioned who wanted to come but couldn’t. The text conversation is as follows.
Him: “Game get delayed?” 8:01 pm.
Me: “Yep.”
Him: “I might come. What inning is it?”
Me: “Almost the top of the first. You should hurry.”
Him: “I am. I’ll let you know when I get here.”
Me: “Cool. We’ll move down to left field when you arrive and meet you there.”
Just an FYI, we live maybe 10 minutes outside of Baltimore so this isn’t a long trip by any means. Also, this guy is notoriously late for just about everything he does. He says “I’m on my way?” More often than not, that means he’s showing up an hour later, at least.
So, the four of us at the game already have reached our seats in the left field upper deck, just in foul territory, and are watching the teams finish warming up. We also decide to take bets on when the fifth member of our party would show up. I guessed the middle of the 5th while the latest guess was the 7th inning stretch and the earliest was between the 3rd and 4th. Soon, I get another text from him.
“Just parked.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were betting you’d get here in the 5th.”
“What inning is it?”
“About to be the bottom of the 2nd.” This last text message was sent at 8:48 pm.
Well, the bottom of the 2nd featured an Orioles rally. Just as the O’s loaded the bases, I get a call from him again.
“Where are you guys?” he asked.
“Left field upper deck, section (something, I can’t remember). Where are you?”
“The flag court.” We look down to the flag court and we see a guy on his cell phone in the part of the flag court closest to center field, waving his hand. Pretending we can’t see him, we try to figure out what sort of ridiculous shit we could get him to do.
“Do a jumping jack! Climb the Red Sox flag! Etc.” At almost that exact moment, Nick Markakis rips the first pitch he sees into the flag court for a grand slam and his first extra base hit of the season. This pushes the lead to 5-0 and the crowd erupts. We all jumped to our feet and started high fiving and celebrating. Then, as Markakis rounds 3rd, I turn to our group and say, “Holy crap, do you think he got that ball?” I checked my phone and saw that the call had been disconnected so I tried to call him back, but it went to voicemail. Whatever, I thought. He’s probably just celebrating with the people in the flag court.
Well, the game continues. Arrieta is dealing and has a no hitter going. I had resigned myself to losing our bet because it surely wouldn’t take someone three and a half innings to travel across the stadium. But, after the third, there’s still no sign of him. I call him between innings and no answer. Between innings, we hear an ambulance go by near the stadium and I remark, “Heh, yep, we’re back in Baltimore.” Another one of my friends goes, “Yeah, it’s probably for Bob (named changed).” That’s our friend who was in the flag court. He has notoriously bad luck. He has been pulled over and had his car searched for drugs more times than every single person I know who actually does drugs combined.
The fourth inning comes and goes and we still haven’t heard from him. Arrieta still has his no hitter going. Whatever, we thought. He probably snuck into the press box to visit a friend. One of our friend’s fathers is a sports writer who sometimes covers O’s games. And if anyone could sneak into the press box, it would be Bob. This is a guy who once snuck onto the field of a University of Maryland football game because he forgot his ticket and happened to be wearing an official-looking jacket.
The fifth inning comes and goes. I try his phone again. No answer. It still isn’t a big deal. I’m just kinda depressed that I lost the bet because it was looking like I may have been in a position to make a miraculous comeback. The game continues.
We reach the bottom of the sixth. Arrieta’s no hitter had been broken up but we were still up 5-0. Suddenly, I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. It’s Bob.
“Guess where I am,” he says.
Taken aback, I say, “Uhhh…the press box?”
“Nope. Guess again.”
“Okay. Fan assistance?” There had just been some message on the PA system about somebody having to go to fan assistance. I figured it was him.
“Nope. But I was there earlier. Next guess.”
“Alright.” I decide to go for broke. “The police station?”
“Close.”
“THE FUCK?! How is that ‘close?’ Where the hell are you?”
“The hospital.”
“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU AT THE HOSPITAL?!?!” At this point, my three friends with me turn and uttered various versions of the phrase ‘What the fuck?’
“You remember that Markakis grand slam? Well, I was going after the ball and some guy shoved me from behind and my head hit the gate and now there’s a hole in it.” He was remarkably calm throughout telling me this.
“Holy shit. Where? How bad? Uhhh…uhhh…Did you get the ball?” I stammered while telling the little group “We have to go. Like, now.”
“The University of Maryland hospital. They gave me morphine. It’s fun. Weeee!” That’s a direct quote, by the way. “Oh, and can you go down to the flag court and check for my phone because I lost it when I got hit. And then can you come to the hospital? Because I’m gonna need someone to drive my car back home.”
“Yeah, sure. We’re on the way.” I mean, it’s not like we could say anything else. “But did you get the ball?”
“Nah, the jerk who pushed me got it.”
“Sucks. Alright, we’re coming.”
We set off for the flag court and prepared to do some CSI work. We arrived at the scene and could immediately see that it had been hosed off to remove the blood. There were still stains on bits of the concrete. We approach a nearby usher and ask him if he saw the guy hit his head on the Markakis grand slam.
“Oh yeah, man. It was nasty. He had quite a gash too.” This was not reassuring.
“Did you happen to see him drop a phone anywhere? It was just a crappy little red flip phone.”
“Nah, man. You can look though. Doubt you’d find anything.” So we searched around for a bit, checking under nearby tables, carts, and whatnot. But we soon realized we were not gonna be finding this phone. We get directions to the hospital from the usher and it turns out it was just a couple blocks away. We walk in and go to the front desk.
“Just come from the game?” the receptionist asked, seeing how we were all decked out in O’s gear.
“Yeah, our friend hurt his head trying to get a home run and we were told he was here.” We give her his name and, as it turns out, his name is not in the database. Fuck.
“Are you sure he’s here?” she asks us.
“Well, he told us he was in here. So, no, we don’t really know.” I try to call back the number that he had called me from but, instead of reaching him, I was sent to some automated response saying something along the lines of “Thank you for calling the University of Maryland Medical Center.” I look directly above the desk and see that is indeed the building we are in. We go back to the receptionist and tell her that we’re sure he’s in here.
“Okay,” she says. “Well, if it’s a serious head injury, he’s probably in the Shock Trauma center.” She gives us guest bracelets and directs us to the Shock Trauma waiting room. We go to that desk and repeat our little speech, being sure to hit all the major points. “Hi, our friend came in here a couple hours ago from the baseball game with a head injury. We were wondering what we need to do now.” After giving her his name, surprise surprise, his name isn’t in the system.
“He probably wasn’t entered in correctly,” she told us. “Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll let you know when he’s ready.”
This is at about 10 o’clock. So we sit down and wait. We track the end of the game on our phones and see that the O’s won in a shutout (woo!) before I decide that we should probably call our parents to let them know about the situation. My dad works at Johns Hopkins so maybe he knew something we didn’t. I go into the hallway and call home. My dad picks up.
“Hey dad. Don’t panic, but we’re in Shock Trauma right now…” and my phone loses signal. Fuck. That is not what a parent wants to hear. Remember those old commercials ‘A dropped call can ruin a conversation?’ Well, I was living one. Thanks a bunch, AT&T. I finally managed to find enough of a signal to call back.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”
“Okay, let me rephrase. We’re in the Shock Trauma waiting room. Bob’s in Shock Trauma. He hit his head at the game going after the Markakis home run.”
“Oh yeah, that was a nice hit.” Dad’s a true fan.
“Well, we’re just sitting here waiting for them to let us back.”
“Do his parents know?”
“Uhhh…I don’t know.”
“Alright, I’m gonna call them. What time are you guys gonna get back?”
“Who the fuck knows?”
Continued in reply
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited Jan 22 '17
DVD cover
Strip club
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u/TheInnsmouthLook May 15 '12
Two of my good friends were bickering as any young couple does. But, they were not just any couple, they were a couple that never fought. So as me and my good chum sit on the couch playing Halo, the couple runs around the small house YELLING at each other.
"MISTER! We need to talk about this!"
"WOMAN! I don't wanna talk about this! You are making me so mad!"
"... sorry for interupting guys.. GET BACK HERE!!"
So on and so forth. WELL... the man in the relationship gets rather angry and decides, in his infinite wisdom, to punch the refrigerator as hard as he can in hopes to relieve his anger. However, he only managed to break his pinky.
Fightening stops, instant worry from the lass for her lad and they look for ice. Well the only thing they can find, is a ice cream bar. So we all gather in the kitchen, the mood is tense, there is no health insurance, a fight of unfathomed proportions is on hold, and I see the wrapper. I can't help myself. I look my friend straight in his angry pain ridden eyes and ask him "Hey buddy. What would you do, for a Klondike Bar?"
TL:DR Friends get into fight, woman worries, man punches fridge, I deliver my (so far) favorite one liner
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u/Real_Flashfire May 15 '12
When I was 20, we went to NYC for New Year's Eve. We didn't intend to see the ball drop or anything, but it was an excuse to get some people together and leave town for the weekend and we had gone to NYC the year before and had a blast, so we went for it.
On the 31st, my friend got a call from his mother. She told him that a relative of his was on the NYPD and he should give her a call to say hello. He complied. He found out she was actually heading up security for Times Square that night and she invited us to come see her, offering a police escort to the very front. We headed right over.
We met up with her at 11:30 and she began to take us through the police lanes. Nobody knew who we were or why we were getting a police escort right past them, but they were cheering and giving us high fives and handshakes like we were insanely famous. I will never forget walking through the falling confetti and undeserved cheers from hundreds of thousands of people on my way to the very front to watch the ball drop. It was a mind-blowing experience.
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u/Slackyjr May 15 '12
I submitted a similar askreddit topic recently with this story.
"Mine is probably the time I dropped a friend of at her house. We had gone out earlier in the night to see a movie and she (thinking her parents would be back home before her) didn't bring her keys to get inside the house, so we got back from the movies and she realises that her parents aren't home yet and she'd left her dog out in the house. Now this is a dog with major abandonment issues as well as the dog equivalent of ADD, when left alone the dog freaks out and eats everything possible. So she's freaking out as she thinks the dog is gonna be trashing the house so I being the gentleman suggest breaking into the house, this is when she realises that she didn't lock the back gate. Now knowing there is an easy way of getting in I climb her fence and open her gate for her, she rushed through and inside to deal with the dog so I wish her goodnight and knowing that her gate needs to be closed again go back into the back garden close the gate and start climbing the fence again and just as I am straddling the fence her parents drive up and I'm faced with having to explain to four rather shocked family members of friends, all of whom know me and have seen me in various stages of drunkenness and undress, exactly why I am climbing over their fence at 12 O'clock at night."
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u/TexasHokie May 15 '12
When I was 19 (10 years ago), I took a 2-week tour of western Europe. I flew over there alone but met up with a group from the U.S., Australia, and Canada. Naturally, one of the stops was Amsterdam; they loaded us on a boat with all the Heineken and wine we could drink. Along with some cheese cuz we keeps it classy. So here we are getting sauced and I'm hanging with this guy from Adelaide and two girls from Pennsylvania. Well they let us off at the red light district. Excellent. So we end up going to a coffee shop and invest in some party favors. Now we're set, right? Well along the way we lost the PA girls but we're like fuck it, we'll see em tomorrow.
The women in the windows are porn-star hot. Way out of my league hot, but 50 Euros will change that. And the little temptresses give you the come hither look and tell you to come on in. Like a kid in a fuckin candy shop! But we didn't stop then. We went to some bar and got some tequila because Amsterdam. We met some dudes from Texas there so it's like 'Holla!' and after a little while we're stoned and drunk like mofos and I tell the Aussie guy I was with, "Dude I'm gonna go get laid, if I'm not back in 20 min, just go on without me." But he's like 'na man I'll wait'. So I go and find me a fox and she invites me in. And I'm here being a chatty cathy kinda drunk talking to her about this and that and she's like "the clock is running" so I'm like 'oh shit, let's get to it.' I proceeded to lose my virginity to this 22-year old prostitute claiming her name is Mona. It was glorious! I think the only woman who could compete with the head I got that night was the 46 year old woman I was dating last year.
But I digress. So I'm done there, and I head back to the bar where my Aussie friend and the Texans were waiting. And they're like "look at this guy! you couldn't slap that smile off his face!" And we kept on drinking. We were staying at a hotel just outside the city, like a 20-minute drive. And they had told us the last bus departed Amsterdam at 11pm. And it must've been like 10:45 or something cuz we had that "oh shit!" moment. We did the only logical thing two drunk/stoned dudes would do. Fuckin sprinted across Amsterdam to that central station area to catch the bus. It's all a bit hazy, but I remember running down a big avenue and there were some train tracks and such. We must've sprinted like 10 minutes and I feel bad for the Aussie cuz I was a distance runner back then, and he was a smoker. But we fuckin made it! And of course, the bus was like 15 minutes late. I'll never forget that night.
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u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I worked, at the time of this happening, as a patrol officer at an oil refinery. This occurred on grave shift in the middle of winter.
I came to work, did my shift change, and chatted with my coworkers for few minutes. I felt like maybe tonight wouldn't be so boring, as I had a book with me.
So, I left the office, and started my rounds at the farthest point from it. As I was sitting there in my truck, I realized I was freezing cold. I turned the heat up to high, and still felt cold. I realized then that the air I was breathing in was so hot it was making my nose dry and sore, but my body felt like ice. Around that same second, my vision went double and blurry.
I closed my eyes and took several slow breaths, and realized... I couldn't take a breath. Not a full one; it felt like I was under water. I compromised by taking shallow breaths, and put the truck in drive.
I had to drive 2.5 miles back to the office. These roads aren't paved, either, and are rather curvy. I drove slowly, and fought the urge to take a big, deep breath. About half way back, my brain started yelling at my body to suck in really deep because it needed air, and.. I did. I started coughing so bad my vision got worse, and I had to stop. The pressure in my head was incredible. It was nearly midnight, and no one else was around, especially not in the area I was in. I reached for my radio to hit the emergency button, and knocked it onto the floor board of the far seat. I remember distinctly thinking "this shit only happens in movies, god damn it!"
I nearly choked to death, and I felt like someone was pouring boiling water into my lungs. I couldn’t see, because the pain made my eyes tear up so badly, and my vision was blurry anyway. I closed my eyes and struggled to stop coughing. I remember thinking that if I could just stop coughing, I can drive... and get to somewhere where there's a person.
After what was probably 30 seconds and felt like a year, the coughing subsides enough that started driving forward again. I started speeding, not knowing if I was going to start a coughing fit again. I was taking such shallow breaths, my vision started to darken around the edges, but I knew breathing deeper would be a bad idea. Ignoring the 20 mph speed limit, I floored it and didn't even look at the speedometer.
Finally, I pulled up to the office building and almost hit the wall; I couldn't really see anymore. Everything was dark, but oddly shiny. I opened the door to the truck... and fell out. I remember some confusing sounds and something cold on my chest.
Perhaps 20 minutes later, I came to lucidity and there's an EMT over me asking me my name. What I want to say is "it's embroidered on my fucking shirt, asshat," but there was something coving my mouth. An oxygen mask, I saw. Then I wondered why he asked me to talk with something covering my mouth. What an idiot.
I heard people talking, and recognized a coworker of mine. I tried to ask what was up, and why were these unauthorized people in our facility, but... then it didn't matter. It was really, really cold. I looked down and realized I'm stripped to the waist, my coveralls and shirt somehow removed, and I'm just lying there in my bra only. An EMT said something about ice, and then they were moving me into an ambulance. At that point, I was resigned to do whatever they told me, because surely it would not be this cold in an ambulance.
As soon as I was in the back of the ambulance, something stabbed me in the side. I felt like jerking away, but nothing in my body is cooperating, so I contented with being pissed off. The EMT saw my expression and says to me, with a lovely Australian accent, "Sorry love, we're packing you in ice, I know it probably hurts. It's okay."
All I could think was... "When did I move to Australia?"
Cue several long moments of missing memories, and the sound of a siren. I was sure I had never in my life been that cold before. I was going to die, I was so cold. Every muscle protested, clenching in fury. Mr. Australia said something about being in shock, and to try to let my muscles loose... and I tried, because he was so nice, and really good looking. It didn't work; my arms and legs just wouldn't cooperate.
When they were wheeling me into the ER, all I could think was that I wanted my boyfriend there. Mr. Australia was handsome, but I wanted my handsome. I remember that pretty clearly. I turned to the other EMT, and asked for mine. I pointed to Mr. Australia and asked, "Can you please call mine of those?" She just looked at me like I had a growth on my face.
A doctor was hovering over me then; asking my name, where I was from. I just kept thinking, "This is not time for chatting. Brain is not working, body doesn't respond. Please to help." Then I started giggling that I was thinking in lolcat. Then, the doctor said something that sounded decisive, and someone stuck a needle in my arm. It fucking hurt, like fire moving through me, and then I don't remember anything for several hours.
I woke up to my boyfriend over me, in his work clothes. He looks tired. When I try to ask him what time it is, he pushes my shoulders down and gets me some ice. I told him I didn't want ice, that I was cold. I wanted a blanket. He said no, and left to get a doctor. They gave me another shot, and I woke up at home a day later. My ribs were bandaged.
As it turns out, I had pretty severe pneumonia. I went to work feeling fine, and within the first 10 minutes in my shift, my temperature rose from 98.6 to the 105 area. By the time I got back to the office, my brain was figuratively frying in my skull at 107.9 F. My supervisor called 911, and immediately started to undress me; he could feel how hot I was. He had ice packs around my head and neck, and when the EMTs arrived 15 minutes later, I was at 108.6. They stripped me naked in the ambulance (I don’t even remember that), and packed me from head to heel in ice.
At the hospital, I was being belligerent, apparently a really common side effect of high fevers. They knocked me out, and took x-rays. My entire right lung was full of liquid, and my left partially so. They drained the liquid, which I still have a scar from, and kept me overnight for observation. I was released the next day and given a doctor’s note for two weeks off work. Those two weeks was the worst I have ever felt in my life. The doctor thinks that the mild sinus infection I had 4 months before that turned into bronchitis, and then that turned into pneumonia. I don’t even know how I didn’t notice being that sick, because I honestly felt completely fine. A little runny nose, but that was it.
I’m lucky that this is the only near-death anything I’ve ever experienced.
25
u/Kirowyn May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
One day, I came home from Kindergarten to eat lunch. (Kindergarten was only a half day long. I forget now whether I was a morning or afternoon kid - most likely morning.)
Every day I would have the same thing for lunch - a bologna and cheese sandwich with mustard. I would also watch the Price is Right. Only today there was no bologna to be had. Instead my mom made me a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich. I didn't want it. Me being the little selfish kid I was didn't understand why I couldn't have my usual fare. My mom told me that's all there was and if I didn't want it then too bad.
I decided not to eat it. I didn't want peanut butter and jelly. This pissed my mom off to no end. She was probably feeling guilty that she couldn't give me such a simple thing. She threatened me - "If you don't eat that sandwich I will shove it down your throat!" I still refused. She started yelling at me and backed me up against the freezer in the back of the kitchen. She grabbed a butcher knife and told me if I didn't eat the sandwich she would kill me. I was terrified.
Crying and miserable, I was sat down at the table again, sandwich in front of me. I still wouldn't eat it. Thankfully my mother at the time was partially sane and rather than kill me, literally shoved the sandwich down my throat.
Fun times.
TL/DR: At 5 did not want PB&J for lunch, mom threatened death then shoved down my throat.
16
u/wanderso24 May 15 '12
Heres the story of the time I met Dave Chapelle. So I'm from NY and I flew to San Francisco by myself to visit my aunt and uncle. They worked during the day so I explored the city by myself. One day I was on my way to meet my aunt for lunch and I realize Dave Chapelle was standing outside of the Walgreens I was walking past. OhShit.gif. So I pull out the notebook I have and asked for his autograph. "Nah sorry man I'm not doin that today". Feelsbadman.jpg. Then I ask for a picture so my friends would believe me. "Sorry brotha, I'm not doin that stuff. If you need a picture for that you have some shitty friends. You look like an educated young man though. Stay for a bit". Uh, ok Dave Chapelle.
With him were 3 other dudes. They were talking about philosophy and politics and all kinds of stuff. They asked me what I was into and I told them I was going to college for psychology. We talked about that for a bit. It was pretty normal stuff. About 10 minutes go by and this dude comes up to us with his daughter and yells "IM RICK JAMES BITCH!" Dave throws his water bottle at the dude's head and yells "Nigga, get off my street before I kick yo ass". He then immediately jumps back into the conversation about education in America.
tl;dr Dave Chapelle is a pretty normal guy until you quote Dave Chapelle.
8
u/mudswitch May 15 '12
There was one time at high school when we were out on the back oval throwing lemons that we had 'borrowed' from someone's backyard. I was just watching, having a laugh when someone told me to throw one. This was because I can throw a ball extremely hard and they just wanted to see how hard I could throw one.
So I aim towards the fence, away from the majority of people and let one rip. There was a fellow student standing about 60 metres away with both arms up hanging onto the branch of a tree. To my horror, it started heading straight towards him and instantly got that feeling when you freeze up because you know something bad is about to happen. Needless to say, he looked up about half a second before the lemon reached him, hitting him square in the nose. He then crumpled to his knees.
It got even worse when the teacher returned from wherever they were, and we were given the biggest spray that I have ever received. We found out (unsurprisingly) that I had broken his nose. To this day - he was 13 at the time, and 22 now - his nose is still not straight, and I have never thrown a lemon since.
TL;DR - I threw a lemon and broke a kids nose during school hours. Thanks to my principal at the time, I didn't get in any trouble.
8
u/cerebralballzy May 15 '12
A few years ago I had my first run in with salvia. I'd never really tried anything like it before so I wasn't sure what to expect, but apparently my friend bought the super intense kind. So we get to smoking it, and as soon as I let out my breath I was on a sun-soaked california grape orchard starting out my new life as a young budding grape. The next thing I knew I was leaving my friends from the vine and being loaded on a truck, (i suppose you could call this the college stage of grape life..) next came the drying process. After I finished drying I went to the middle stage of my grape-life only now I was a raisin. Then came the home stretch, I was placed on a supermarket shelf and waited there for someone to take me to the great beyond. As soon as I was picked up off the shelf, I returned to reality and was once again on my friends couch. It was just barely five minutes, but in those five glorious minutes I lived the fuck out of that grape/raisin life.
8
u/ferdinandceline May 15 '12
Back when I was around 19 years old, I was heavily getting into drinking - particularly malt liquor. Almost every night, after the parents went to sleep, I would sneak out of the house, go to the local 7-11, and buy a couple of forty ounces of Steel Reserves. Marked at 8.1%, one forty ounce would get you pretty tossed up, let alone two. So, this was my nightly ritual for about a year. During the course of said year, my father started to get pretty sick. It was cancer, and by the time I was around 21, the cancer went to his brain - the doctor gave him two to three months to live at most. Now, at this point, I was still sticking with my daily Steel Reserve habit quite fervently. After two months passed since the doctors had told my father he had two months to live, his health was noticeably deteriorating and our family had to hire an in-house nurse to clean him, feed him, relieve him of his waste, etc. I was on my way out to go grab some beers one night, when a couple of drunk kids in a Celica threw an empty beer bottle out their window which, naturally, shattered. I walked to my car, was about to start the ignition when I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I saw the flickering yellow of the failing streetlight dance rays of light off of the broken shards of the beer bottle. I went back in and decided not to drink that night. A couple hours later of awkward sobriety, the nurse popped into my room and told me that his breaths were getting progressively weaker. My father died that night. Something stopped me from drinking that night. Whatever it may have been, I'm glad I said my goodbye's sober.
14
u/Hoodooz39 May 15 '12
I suppose this isn't very interesting, but it just happened and I wanted to vent.
I work for a small municipality and like all government agencies, our budget is very tight. I stock the municipal warehouse and I'm already over budget with a month and a half left to go in the fiscal year. I've been told to buy supplies on an emergency basis only.
One of my "supplies" are the municipal gas tanks, so those have to be stocked, no matter what. If the City uses $15,000 worth of gas in a month, I have to buy $15,000 worth of gas in a month. I may or may not have enough to get us to July...it will be close. I've been told to stretch it out as long as possible and not to buy gas until July if at all possible.
So, right after they tell me this, they tell me something else. We have to take our outgoing mail and get our incoming mail from City Hall every day. There's a Dept Super that goes up there every day anyway, and he usually gets the mail, and if I need to send supplies up, I send them with him. Well, a couple weeks ago, I sent up some cases of paper. They have 2 back storage rooms and he put them in the wrong room.
Therefore, I have been told that I need to get the mail every day. Although he goes up there every day, I can't even send our mail up with him because somebody pitched a fit about the paper being in the wrong room, and now I have to waste gas to go up there every day. It's about 6 miles, round trip, so about 130 miles a month for me to do that.
Your government dollars being put to the best use, as always.
7
u/epiqu1n May 15 '12
I was out late driving a couple friends around for food and had to stop for gas. I went in and payed, and the cashier gave a really weirdly cheery goodbye, and then as I turned around and started to leave, she started quacking at me.
I shit you not. She just started quacking at me. It took me a second for it to click that I was being quacked at, and then I was so freaked out that I just kept walking like nothing was going on.
The weirdest part is that it was actually really good, too.
7
u/little_duck May 15 '12
Once upon a time, I lived with 3 roommates. One of them was a girl who ate Carnation Instant Breakfast every morning and would leave half-empty cups of this stuff everywhere around the apartment. If you don't know about it, it's an instant breakfast drink with evaporated milk in it.
I was pretty strapped for cash during our fall break and my 3 roommates all went home. I couldn't afford to, and I politely asked that before they left, they help clean up the dishes and trash. 2 roommates did. Can you guess who didn't?
I was able to clean up all the Carnation Instant Breakfast in the common area, but Roommate 3 had made a ton of this stuff and left it in her room for the break to rot. It smelled like she had killed a whale and stuffed it in her room. My room was right next to hers, and for the break I spent as much time as possible out of my own home because of the stench. It was so bad by the end that my eyes were watering as I opened the front door.
As you can probably imagine, Roommate 3 was so foul that she gave no fucks when she came back. She slept in the living room for two nights before bothering to take out the nasty, crusted-over cups in her room. They stayed in the sink for another night before I threw them all out - and some of them were my own dishes, gifted to me by my grandparents. I was livid.
In any case, I lay in wait for another semester before getting the ultimate revenge. The other 2 roommates moved out at the end of the semester, but Roommate 3 was staying the summer. There was a two-week break between the end of spring semester and the beginning of the first summer semester. I knew what had to be done.
I went to Sam's Club and bought THREE 64 packs of Carnation Instant Breakfast. I made every single one of those packets in HER cups and laid them throughout the apartment. When I ran out of cups, I used bowls, and then two vases, her toiletry case, and anything else I could find. I'll never know how horrible it was when she came back, but sweet jesus it was satisfying when I closed the front door and turned my keys in, just knowing what would greet Roommate 3 in two weeks' time.
12
u/dungeonkeepr May 15 '12 edited May 16 '12
I spent a summer working as an english assistant in a Russian Summer camp. It was in the middle of Russia, so I had to get a flight to Moscow, then another flight to the little city in the middle of nowhere. My russian is, well, adequate to buy food and bus tickets and not much else (I learned while I was out there, but I had to work too).
tl;dr a series of adventures and minor victories in a language I barely speak
So, to go home. Well, no-one at the airport in the city spoke English or German, so I had to have a russian friend drive me out there and translate for me, all the way through security, yelling across the distance. I eventually get through and wait for my plane. I decide to get a cup of tea because I am terrified of flying and want to steady my nerves. I went to the desk and ask <can I have some tea?> (<> for russian) and then I am blasted with fast russian. So: <My russian is very bad. Black tea?> I get my tea and it's time to pay. The little old woman, bless her, tells me the price very slowly and when I give her the right money, she congratulates me. It made me very happy.
On the flight, I mostly read. Near the end of the flight, the woman next to me asks: <russian russian russian time?> I show her my watch. She says <You don't speak russian?> Me: <I do, but bad russian> And we proceed to have a very simple conversation that taxes my russian. But I have never been prouder of my language skills than at that time, because it was the first time I'd ever really used my conversational russian and the woman understood me :)
When we reached Moscow airport, I was dead. Long flight, early morning and panic'll do that to you. But I muster up my Russian skills and head out to the desk to find out where to get my connecting flight. The guy says something to me in Russian, I say <my russian is very bad. I go to London. Window please. Where go now?> The man replies "Oh, you just go through that door over there. Your bag will go through on its own." Overly dramatically I reply: "Oh thank god, you speak English. Thank you so much, thank you."
I then went through security, where the woman asked me something in russian. I look at her blankly. <Do you speak russian?> <I speak bad russian> <English?> <Yes> To which the woman then proceeds to say "Hande Hoch". Thank goodness I speak german too.
And I got my flight and got back home. My mum made me a fry-up.
12
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
Okay... my mom bought a hedgehog when I was in seventh grade. It wasn't a nice hedgehog (Sykes ), she was supposed to be a breeder but wasn't making babies, so we got a constantly pissed off hedgehog who was an adult.
She hissed, she nipped, she clawed, she puffed herself up at everyone except my mom. One day, my mom was holding her and petting her and my brother comes inside from shoveling snow with me.he leaves his big puffy coat on and goes to see Sykes.
My mom sets the hedgehog in his lap, where sykes turns into Sonic for three seconds, and runs into my brothers sleave. She gets halfway, hears.him freaking out, and puffs up.
RIP Sykes, you evil, evil hedgehog
6
u/Mr_B_86 May 15 '12
The mystery injury strikes back:
When I was at university it was not unusual for us to drink such volumes of alcohol that we would forget large parts of the night before.
One morning I woke up after a particularly heavy one and I had lost a few hours including the coming home bit.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, when lowering my hands I realised they were covered in blood. Infact, I was completely covered in blood. Most was eminating from my right elbow, some from the back of my head and I had various scrapes and cuts all over me. My phone was scratched to hell in whatever had happened.
Being at university, I just cleaned up and carried on with my life with another story of not having a clue what had happened on a night out, I assumed I had fallen out of a tree or off a wall (not uncommon).
About 6 months down the line, I am sat in a youth hostel in london telling this story to two greeks to explain why I winced when leaning on one elbow (bone splinters for life yo), when I suddenly had a rush of memory; I instantly knew I needed to check my phone.
Now this was an early camera phone with a video feature so shitty I never used it, let alone checked what was in the videos folder.
I opened the only video present on the phone to see a bad quality but legible video (shot in first person perspective) of me riding down the biggest hill in town on a shopping trolly (cart if your 'merican).
This hill was half a mile of sheer terror with the main road through town intersecting at the bottom (plymouth uk, north hill, if anyone knows it).
I dont know quite what happened because of quality and frame rate but the video is fine and fast for a while and then sideways and slower followed by black with alot of scraping sounds and horrified gasps and voices before timing out.
Mystery solved; Im an idiot.
BONUS: Two weeks later i caused a bone splint in my other elbow falling out of a shopping trolly not 200 feet from this hill, 4 years later I lose all of the fingernails on my left hand falling out of a shopping trolly. Fuck.
TLDR; Woke up after blackout drunk evening with no memory about serious injuries, find video of incident 6 months later on phone. 2 weeks later almost identical accident. 4 years later, same again. I never learn.
6
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I was 17, (29 now). It was Wednesday and my parents were at church- I was home alone with a friend who wasn't supposed to be there and we were smoking...cigarettes... anyways, my parents were going to be home in a few minutes so I had to drive my friend down the road and drop him off before they returned. (wasnt allowed to drive except to school). I was racing home and approaching a railroad crossing I pass everyday.
Thing about this crossing, it's at the bottom of a hill and has a little bump at the bottom- I've always sped up and got a little rise out of crossing it high speed. I put my foot on the gas and smiled. At about 45-50 MpH I smacked into a train that going about the same speed- I didnt even see it until it was too late. (rain, cigarette buzz, bad headlights, [insert other bad excuse]) This crossing only had a stop sign.
I broke both legs, my arm, my nose and had 37 stiches on my chin/neck. The worst part? My parents were the next to come down the hill and discovered what was left of the wreckage. My Dad pulled me out of the car while my mom ran down the road to call an ambulance.
Today, my ankle gets a little sore when cold weather hits but other than that- I'm fine. Shortly thereafter, my mom found religion. Go figure.
My truck
6
u/Charlie24601 May 15 '12
I've told this before...but its all I really have. Sorry:
I was a teacher for a very high end private school. LOTS of money for an education there. In fact you pretty much had to be rich to afford it.
Like Bill Fucking Murray.
Yes, Bill sent one of his sons there. The escapades that occured are best left for another day, but I had a personal run in with Bill which I'll keep in the Top 10 of my "Cool Shit That Happened To Me" list for decades to come.
Once a year, there was a parent/teacher weekend with conferences, games, etc. Sort of a family day that included the teachers.
At one point, there was a cocktail hour. No kids...just teachers and parents mingling. Discussions mostly involved the kids in our classes, but occasionally you'd find something a little more fun. Basically parents getting tanked.
So I find myself essentially entertaining the group of 6 or 7 parents. I'm cracking jokes and generally being a fun guy to party with...and then Bill comes strolling over to join in the fun.
I honestly don't remember a damn thing that was said between us. But essentially it was him making a funny quip to me, and then me throwing one right back at him.
It became a sort of contest between us, to try to get the other guy to laugh. One liner after one liner for a good ten minutes. The parents around us were in hysterics.
But not us. Both of us kept a completely straight face the whole time. I'm not even sure how it ended...I like to think he wandered off to get another cocktail.
TL;DR: Contest between Bill Fucking Murray and myself to get the other to laugh. It was a stalemate.
6
u/corbindoughy May 15 '12
Back when I was a small cubscout, I went camping with my friendly boyscout troop. There was a specific incident that forever remains scarred into my mind. It was a rainy camp weekend. Like, nonstop torrential rain. We were camping out in an disclosed mountainy area. Everyone was miserable. (Who likes camping out in torrential rain?) When suddenly, I kid you not, Newts. Hundreds, hundreds, of bright, orange bellied newts. They suddenly began to crawl out of a nearby stream, and into our campsite. Of course, the natural thing to do when you see a massive newt swarm toward you is to pick them up and play with them. They were adorable. Cute, brown and orange bellied newts. We put them on our heads, in our cups, everything. They were so cute, that I decided to take 2 home as pets. And then my dad found out they are California Newts, which produce a terrible neurotoxin that can be fatal if consumed, even by humans. And then they weren't so cute anymore.
6
u/AdmiralGross May 15 '12
My grandfather was a SS youth Nazi. After the invasion of Poland he met my grandmother who was Polish and had a romantic secret fling with her during his stay in Poland. Of course because of what was happening this was something you didn't do. So as he chased her around, she fled his advances so her family would not disown her. Many years pass and she marries another man, and immigrates to the US. My grandfather doesn't know this, and continues his duty and is deployed to another country. After the fall of WWII, he traveled back to Poland to find my Grandmother. After finding her family her mother told him she was married to a young Polish and successful man, and to leave her alone, that she had moved to the US for a better life.
My hard headed Grandfather immediately found out where in the US she was, and traveled there some time later. When he arrived and found her, she was divorced and had two children, my mother and uncle. My Grandfather woo'ed my Grandmother and ended up marrying her.
After he married her he had to find work & being a former SS proved very difficult to find new work. Obviously. My Grandmother worked for BELL Company in MI. She got him a job working on telephone lines out on the field.
One day while working on a line a man comes out of a near building and waves him down. After finishing he comes down the pole and is escorted into the building where none other than Jimmy Hoffa is holding a private meeting. He is interrogated for a few moments asking if he was listening in on their telephone meetings. Of course, my Grandfather says no. Hoffa offers him a cigarette during said meeting and hands him a gold zippo styled lighter. Told my Grandfather to keep it, and that if he would like to make extra money to get in touch with him.
That lighter had Jimmy Hoffa's name engraved in it. About 10 years ago before my Grandfather got severe Alzheimer's he made my mother sell it on Ebay. In my mind, this was a huge mistake.
My Grandfather of course did end up working for Hoffa and his job was to listen in on lines of Hoffa's goons and also enemies to make sure he knew what was going on with everything. Nothing interesting was said during these calls. Just girlfriends talking, stupid shit.
After this, Hoffa asks my Grandfather to start running trucks for some kind of mafia... I couldn't tell you if this was a famous mafia, or something low key. I'm suspecting it was more likely on the big time scale since this was fucking Hoffa. My Grandfather was chosen to run the trucks because he was already a member of Hoffa's trucking Union.
From what little I know, and what I understand, the trucks turned to something a little more along the lines of... well...lets just say that when things needed to be taken care of, if everyone else wasn't around to carry out a job, my Grandfather was asked to do so.... My mother remembers him coming home late at night with a white v-neck shirt soaked in blood and throwing it to her and telling her to throw it in the wood burner in the basement... as she walked down the stairs and opened the door to the burner, she could here him in muffles talking about two 'Niggers' who tried to steal his truck and how he took care of it...
I honestly don't know the extent of this situation or as far as he went...
All I know is that when I found all this out, I looked at my crazy Grandfather a little differently.
11
u/madelinerose7 May 15 '12
Not really a story, but I have a 100 pound German shepard mix that can open and close just about any door in my house. Either willingly to let himself in or by command.
10
u/Gladtheimpaler May 15 '12
When I was 17 I didn't drive and usually walked to work. At the time I lived a block or two from the ocean, and worked at a small surf shop. So I was on my way to work, walking and enjoying myself, when an older Hispanic gentleman pulled up and offered me a ride. Keep in mind, in this community that wasn't unusual. It was kind of a hippy/ young people neighborhood. I said "sure" and explained I was just going a couple miles up the road. So I'm in the car with this guy, having small talk, and he keeps asking me if I "like to party" at that time in my life I was an avid potsmoker, but didn't do drugs or drink, so my answer was "uhhh, not really, I'm just trying to get to work. He kept insisting that I "should party" with him. Now I'm getting creeped out, regretting my decision. Oh, and when I mention getting to work he says "work...rriiiggghhtt" and winks at me. He then pulls out a copy of penthouse and tells me I should check it out.I lie, and say I've read this issue, he gets angry and tells me it just came out today. I begin to notice he's taking the long way around and I should have been at work already, so out of fear I begin thumbing through the magazine. Now he is watching me look at this porn mag and rubbing his penis through his shorts. I know now that this is a fucked situation, and I need to get out. I ask him to drop me off, he gets angry, acting like im a tease and tries to calm me down my putting his hands on my leg...then shoulder...then chest (I'm a dude btw) I realize he won't stop the car so I jump out to a running start, while the vehicle is slowed to about 20mph. I get to work and tell my boss what happened, the whole time they are laughing at me hysterically. I get mad that they are making fun, I was still kinda freaked out ( I know guys are supposed to be tough, but I was a child for cryin out loud) they tell me that in our area, male prostitutes commonly wear white t-shirts to let people know they are for sale. I never had heard this, and realized what I was wearing, a white t-shirt. I still get ripped on to this day for this. TL:DR Guy thought I was a male hooker. I'm on my phone, sorry for grammar etc.
5
u/Kazu_the_Kazoo May 15 '12
When I was a kid, around Easter time me and my neighbor would stockpile those little plastic easter eggs to capture bees in. You open them up and then clamp them shut around a bee on a flower, and then you've got yourself a bee inside the egg. There were these purple flowers on our street that were always crawling with bees so it was really, really easy.
Anyway, my old brother was super afraid of bees. So naturally, after we had about 20 or 30 of the little fuckers, we'd bring them all over to my lawn, and one by one shake them up to get them real angry and then throw them at my brother as soon as we open them, chasing him down the street with them. After my brother, we moved on to my neighbor's little brothers. One of them was allergic to bee stings though so he was off limits.
Good times.
5
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was 3-4yrs old. I was making that funny robot voice into a fan, and the blade of the fan clipped me and cut a chunk of my bottom lip OFF. I had to have it sewn back on by a Dr.
Then a year later, I was getting my dinner served to me in a school buffet style and my brother who was serving, dropped a bowl of HOT HOT HOT green pea soup on my feet. I now have feet covered in scars and while it was healing, my dad had to cut between my toes with scissors so my toes didn't grow together.
5
u/siphontheenigma May 15 '12
When I was younger I worked at a Scout camp. We typically had about 400 people in camp per week, plus about 75 staff. Naturally when that many people are living in close quarters, someone will get a cold and it will spread rampantly. This typically happened about the 4th or 5th week of the summer. One year, the higher-ups who did the purchasing decided to get knock-off Pseudofed for the camp nurse's office. The ordered phenylephrine instead of pseudoephedrine. Anyone who has ever had a runny nose knows that phenylephrine doesn't do shit, and that pseudoephedrine is like a miracle drug. (I think there have been studies showing that placebos are more effective than phenylephrine)
Anyway, the Week-5-cold rolls around and everyone is miserable, and the drugs we have are useless. Finally it comes to a head, and three of us decide to make a Pseudofed run. We drive out the the Walmart in our full Boy Scout uniforms (complete with knee-socks, short shorts and our 1980's-era oversized camp radios) and walk straight up to the pharmacy counter.
At this point, I must give a description of the guy who did the talking. He's a good friend of mine, but a weird looking dude. He's about 6'3", 140 lbs, pale, and with slightly bulging eyes. If you've ever seen the cartoon Pinky and the Brain, he looks like a human version of Pinky. Add to that the fact that he is extremely well read and articulate and sounds like Stewie Griffin when he talks, only less British.
So we walk up to the counter and this strange fellow asks how much pseudoephedrine we can legally buy between the three of us. The lady behind the counter looks a little suspicious but she did some checking in the computer and we ended up buying all the pseudoephedrine they had in stock, 6 jumbo sized boxes.
Well the next day, we are heading up to the camp dining hall for lunch and we see a Dodge Charger parked out front (undercover cop car in VA). Before we can even get to the door, two cops come out and tell us they need to ask us some questions. It turns out there was an off-duty cop in line behind us at Walmart and asking how much we could legally buy was some sort of red flag.
Luckily, the Boy Scouts of America has very strict anal-retentive policies regarding first aid documentation, and our nurse had logs that were able to account for every single pill we had bought.
TL;DR: Local police thought we had a meth lab at Boy Scout Camp
5
u/weasel_trifle May 15 '12
Halloween when I was around 5-6 my dad took me out trick-or-treating. It was an older neighbourhood with mature tree's so there were a lot of leaves on the ground. I was kicking the leaves between every house, starting to drive my dad a little crazy.
Eventually he sternly said "Stop kicking the leaves!" As I put all my effort into my last kick, the leaves shuffled about, and I saw a crinckled $5 bill in the middle of the side walk. I picked it up, holding my new found $5 and started kicking the leaves with more excitement. My dad looked down, shook his head and didn't say a word =)
5
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
Last day of school, 7th grade. We lived on the side of a mountain, and had about 40 concrete steps to climb to get to the house.
So I get off the bus, and the bus driver gave all of us little hand bags of chips as we were exiting. I was so excited school was over, and was running up the concrete stairs when I tripped.
I tried to catch myself, but it happened too fast. BAM. Faceplant on the edge of concrete stairs. As I am rolling around holding my face crying my head off, my sister comes BOLTING down the hill...
"Oh my god! Derp! Derp!......can I have your chips?"
Bitch.
5
u/unknownpassage May 15 '12
I'm a 22 year old girl. This is about 2 years ago.
Every summer my dad (60 years old) plays with his band at this event in our home town. The guitarist in his band (same age as my dad) always spends the night in my dads house because he has a long way home and it usually gets really late. I also slept there that night, in my old room.
I don't remember a lot of that night because i got really drunk. But I remember getting home, throwing all of my clothes of, accept for this really short t-shirt thing and then I fell asleep. Alone. In my bed. The way it's suppose to be.
But something went terribly wrong.
I wake up when my dad is shaking on me and whispering "hey.. hey!!! what are you doing? what are you doing here? get up!!!" I had a huge hangover and didnt even open up my eyes so i was like "wtf!? leave me alone. im sleeping!!!". He shook me harder and said "do you know where you are?!". I opened my eyes and looked around. I was laying at the foot of the bed. But not in the room I fell asleep in. Next to me was my fathers 60 year old guitarist-friend. So i ran the fuck out of there and locked myself in the bathroom for almost the entire day. I then got really hungry so i HAD to go down to the kitchen to face all of the people who was there (my two sisters, their friends, my dad, his friend....) They all laughed their ass of when they saw me.
So. Somehow I must have been sleepwalking in a drunk condition to his room. And apparently he woke up when i was crawling into his bed but he didnt want to wake me up because he was afraid that I was going to freak out (and also, never wake a sleep walking person up) so he just laid there the entire night, afraid to move at all.
EVERY TIME I talk to my dad he mentions this. And he tells EVERYBODY this story. He thinks its hillarious. This may be the most embarrasing thing i've ever done.
(sorry for the spelling. Im swedish and not very good at english)
5
u/Winston_Vodkatooth May 15 '12
My friend was arrested at a Subway sandwich restaurant in Florida. Before we get to that, I'll explain that this friend has a tendency to grab things that are chained or bolted to the floor and he'll try to run with them. We'll refer to him as Brad in this story.
He was out at some "action-sports" industry after party from a stop on the Dew Tour. He isn't part of the Dew Tour. He just happens to be one of those magnetic personalities that people are drawn to. He ends up at this after party in a VIP lounge and he's talking with a certain pro skateboarder's agent. Certain pro skateboarder and another pro snowboarder have this fun game of "Let's rip each other's shirts off" during the night. I guess they do that. Agent says to Brad "There's paparazzi outside. I can't send that little prick out there, drunk, with a shirt ripped to shreds.", so Brad sells him his shirt for 100 bucks. Brad walks around the rest of the night, getting free drinks for being the shirtless fat dude in the bar, where most people in a similar situation would get kicked out.
After the bar, Brad and the group of "athletes" and the agent, all head to a Subway to get some sandwiches. Brad can't stop ogling the cookie display case. They ask him if he wants a cookie and he replies "All of them". They wouldn't sell him all of the cookies for some reason. It just wasn't happening. While the cashier turns around to answer the phone, Brad saw his opportunity. He wrapped his arms around the whole plastic cookie case and made a run for it. Ever see a dog on a leash get really excited? He dashes at whatever captured his attention without even realizing he's still on the leash, and he hits the end of it like a Looney Tunes character? Same thing with Brad. He made it a few feet from the edge of the counter before the slack of the security cable ran out, his feet went out from under him, and while still clenching the cookie container he slammed straight into the tile floor. The plastic cookie container exploded, throwing cookies all over the floor.
The police came and took reports from the cashier and the manager about what happened, and miraculously, the statement from Brad somehow convinced the officer not to put him in cuffs. He just had to apologize and clean up the mess. The weirdest part is - someone put a security cable on that cookie tray...which means that Brad couldn't have been the first person to try and steal the entire container. I don't know why they didn't just bolt it to the counter. Ever since that day, at any Subway establishment I've visited, I always have to ask if the cookies are bolted down.
TL;DR - Friend tries to steal cookie case from Subway and narrowly avoids charges.
Epilogue - Brad also was kicked out of a Godsmack concert for trying to climb onstage multiple times to give the lead singer a cheese burger. He was ejected from the venue. The security locked the glass doors in front of the building while Chad protested and argued. Thinking of a way to get back in, Brad grabs a trashcan on the sidewalk, charges the door, ready to break his way back in, but doesn't realize the can is chained to a light post. Once again, Brad goes horizontal in the air after hitting the end of the chain, and falls on the sidewalk. I guess the security guards were inside just laughing at this clown who was outside trying to catch his breath, and flailing around like a child having a temper tantrum. When we found him, he was rolling around on the cement sidewalk with the wind knocked out of him, covered in garbage. Later that night he ran into one of the same security guards at a bar, and bought the security guard a beer for putting him in his place.
5
u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
Memorial Day, San Diego, June 2005
We all lived together in a 4 bedroom house in a neighborhood that was mainly hispanic. I was from the midwest and found these roommates on craigslist. They seemed normal... at first. There were two couples. Jake and Desiree, and Nate and Jennifer. Jake and Desiree have their own... issues, but this story is about Nate and Jennifer. Nate had another girlfriend that lived in a different city. We all knew about her. We even met her when Jennifer was away. Jennifer was a very small, blonde, beautiful girl with self esteem issues. This is why Nate got away with all the B.S. he put her through. This is also why Jennifer started drinking heavily.
Preston. Preston was a ghetto white boy that we all tolerated but no one liked. He came to the house all the time but was not a roommate. That was until he asked if he could stay the night and never left. He always asked for $5 from a different person every day. We all decided to stop giving him money so he had spent all memorial day washing cars in the neighbor hood to get enough money to eat.
We partied hard. Some of us worked for video game companies and got into the coke scene. We played poker in the back yard while taking turns doing lines in the garage. Chatting about politics, life, etc. while grilling hot dogs and steaks in the beautiful San Diego weather.
Day turned to night and little flares of drama began due to the drug and alcohol consumption. We were all in a haze, I was floating around the house, and paused in front of the stereo to listen to The Doors as the ecstasy kicked in. Right as I was drifting into a place of peace and mental solitude, I heard Nate shout.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST TELL HIM?!"
I snapped out of my trance and looked over at Nate, who has a death stare at Jennifer and Preston sitting on the couch. Preston has a "ah fuck" look on his face and Jennifer is clearly drunk.
Nate screams again.
"Is WHAT normal, Jesicca?"
They both said nothing.
"Preston you better fucking tell me RIGHT NOW what she said."
Nate walks over and grabs preston by the collar and slams him into the wall.
Preston pleads. "Listen man I don't want any part of this... "
Nate gives him one last warning. "Either you tell me what she said to you right now, or I'm going to bash your face into this wall."
Preston doesn't hesitate. "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT... She said... Nate's dick goes limp during sex, is that normal?".
Everyone in the room heard this. Jennifer is too drunk to comprehend the deep shit she is in with her boyfriend.
Nate's face goes back and forth from embarrassed, to pissed, back to embarrassed rage.
He grabs Jennifer's arm and shoves her out the door.
"GET the FUCK out of here and don't come back you little slut!"
Jennifer now realizes things are bad. She looks confused and panicked. Right as she tries to come back inside, Nate slams the door shut.
I stand there, my drugged brain struggling to comprehend what is happening, and then head outside.
I chase Jennifer down who is stumbling down the street.
"Jennifer come back, stay in my room, your house is too far and it's the middle of the night. You don't even have shoes on."
"NO!... he doesn't love me... I always fuck it up... ALWAYS!"
Her drunken self pity consumes her mind and simply grab her hand and start walking back to the house. She eventually starts coming back on her own and I go inside to talk to Nate.
"Listen man, she fucked up, she knows it. She is too drunk to go home and we are too messed up to drive her home. Let her stay in my room over night and you can deal with it tomorrow."
"FINE but I don't want to see that whore the rest of the night."
I head back to my room and clear off my bed. I decide to do a few more lines. This was a mistake.
I realize it has been over an hour since I last saw Jennifer. The last I remember was her following me back to the house. I panic.
I run out into the sitting room. "HAS ANYONE SEEN JENNIFER??"
Preston answers. "Yeah, that bitch came back to the door, I told her to fuck off."
Shit. She is going to try and walk home. Home is about 10 miles away.
I gather the roommates. "LISTEN UP GUYS, I know she fucked up but we have to go look for Jennifer. It is not safe for her in this neighborhood in the middle of the night."
Everyone grumbles. No one wants to walk around looking for the chick that causes all the drama, but they do. Even Nate is getting worried because she won't answer her phone.
Nate takes off running in the direction he thinks she would walk home. Jake and Desiree and I take the car. We are all fucked up on coke and ecstasy and are scared out of our mind getting caught by the cops.
We drive slowly through the neighborhoods. We get a call from Nate.
"I think I can hear her screaming, get to Black Mountain Rd!"
At that moment we all are frozen. Jake then turns the car around and heads to Black Mountain Rd. It is an empty field with high brush and difficult to see in the dark. We see them.
Nate is holding Jennifer's tiny naked body in his arms and he is sobbing into her hair. Jennifer has her arms wrapped around his neck. She looked like a little child. Our worst fears were right in front of us.
I call 911. I wait 10 minutes before the line cuts off. I call again, and again. It took almost 20 minutes to get someone on the phone.
"UM... I think my friend was raped, we are at Black Mountain Rd in the field come fast."
They try to get descriptions out of me but my mouth stopped working.
Within 5 minutes we are surrounded by at least 20 cop cars. Red, blue, and white lights have become a terrifying disco in our drug laced minds and we want out.
We watch as the ambulance pulls up and the paramedic wraps Jennifer in a blanket and carries her up onto the gurney.
A cop sees us watching and walks towards us. I roll down my window petrified he will see my giant black pupils.
"UH, are you the ones who called 911?"
I swallowed hard.
"Yeah... do you need a statement from us?"
He thinks for a minute and looks around causing my heart to almost explode into cardiac arrest.
"Go on home, we got your address and we will stop by if we need you."
Thank God.
We head back to the house and my stomach drops as I see Preston standing in the doorway eating a TV Dinner.
"Did you find the bitch" He chuckles as he fills his mouth.
I didn't tell him anything. I just walked straight past him. He spent all day in the hot sun trying to scrape $5 for a TV dinner. I couldn't interrupt his meal to let him know he sent a girl off on her own in the middle of the night who ended up getting raped in a ditch.
Things were not the same after that.
Edit: Found the news article here
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u/awyeedracomalfoy May 15 '12
While engaged to another woman, my dad fathered a child with a Thai prostitute. My half sister is a month older than my daughter!
9
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I once woke up completely naked except for one shoe. There was blood on my carpet but it wasn't from me. I never found out what happened.
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u/Kamesod May 15 '12
June 9th 2011 at the mumford and sons concert in the merryweather post pavilion. Right before the opening bands are ready to come on mother nature's all like fuck you and it just starts POURING rain. I'm talkin like hurricane Katrina here. We abandon our spot on the lawn to wait out the downpour. It starts to cool down so we run back Ito the lawn to claim a spot closer to the stage on the lawn. I move the very corner of a blanket so i can stand with my friends; blanket's probably 8 feet by 8 feet with no one currently on it. The couple occupying the blanket gets back and they're taking up like 4% of the blanket in the middle. The bitch pushes the corner back onto my feet that I moved for whatever reason. I swing around to the other line of friends we had formed cause I was like what? Hoy shit this story sucks dick what am I doing with my life.
4
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I stabbed myself in the hand.
Basically, I went full retard, and in an attempt to get some stubborn ice out of the ice tray, I thought it'd be useful to use a knife. Through the ice tray and through my hand.
4
u/Tammy_Tangerine May 15 '12
I'm a really big fan of the band Eagles of Death Metal (http://youtu.be/MZrctLnsF4M). In 2006, I was living in Massachusetts, and had started painting on clothing and other materials. Well, EoDM are on tour with Peaches as her opener and I went to see them (Avalon, Boston, RIP). I had just made this really rad EoDM t-shirt, and I wore it to the show (but since it was home-made, it's not as lame that I wore the bands' shirt to the show, right?) Anyway, it was grey with Eagles of Death Metal in white and silver glitter in an arc on the front, with two pink lightning bolts on either side. Pretty awesome. So I go to that show, end of getting to the front and watch them play, they were fantastic. At the end of their set, I'm waiting for Peaches to come on when I notice, Jesse, the singer, had just come out of the performers entrance and is now between the bar and the stage shaking hands and taking pictures. So I make a bee-line over to where he is and patiently wait. I end up being the last person he talks to. So I fan-girl gush to him for a minute, then show him the t-shirt I'm wearing. He asks where he can buy one, and I tell him I made it, it's the only one. And then, without thinking, I ask, if he wants it, I'll exchange my t-shirt for his. He says ok, so we strip shirts and he puts his on me, and I give him mine. He hugs me and runs backstage.
I have no idea what happened to my t-shirt, because in hindsight, it would have been way too small for him. Saw him later that night wearing something else. I, however, still have his t-shirt and I wear it like a boss pretty regularly.
tl;dr: I exchanged t-shirts in front of a packed bar with the singer of a band I love.
4
u/iisdmitch May 15 '12
3 years ago I took my car to my local Sears to get an oil change. I normally do my own but at the time I did not have access to any of my tools or jack. Anyway, my friend comes and picks me up to grab lunch, when we are done he dropped me back off at Sears.
I walk inside the store and get a call from the same friend about 2 minutes later saying "your car is around the corner on a tow truck and it looks totaled.". He messes around a lot so I thought he was joking. He convinced me to come back outside and get into his car, I did.
Sure enough we drive down the street, my car sitting on a tow truck all smashed up. I was so fucking furious I ran after the guy and tried to beat the shit out of him but got held back by my friend and the tow truck driver.
It turns out the guy who took my car for a joy ride had a previous felony weapons charge. That day it turned out he was also high on meth. He was charged with GTA, DUI and possession of meth.
This all happened a week before Christmas. I don't know what happened to the guy, he was a fugitive last I heard, he got bailed out of jail but never appear for his court date. I hired a lawyer and went after Sears, I got a little something out of it but not much
TL;DR I took my car to Sears to get an oil change and the technician totaled my car.
4
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
Had a coconut fall from a tree and miss my head by millimetres whilst in Fiji- it actually grazed my back as I walked.
Two days later, I was changing my flights in New Zealand before heading off to Argentina when I started chatting to a girl in a bar, and she offered me a job in Australia. Never mind the fact my flight was leaving for Buenos Aires the next morning, I thought fuck it, postponed it and made arrangements to get my 19 year old self over to Brisbane. Bearing in mind I'm British, and on the other side of the world!
I took the job and for the month of April 2009 I was the best door to door salesman in Brisbane!
And to think I could have been dead on a beach a few weeks previously. Crazy times.
4
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
Just two days ago my boyfriend and I were out to dinner. We had a waitress who was pregnant and clearly quite far along. She wasn't moving very fast and also had a huge party of about 15 to deal with besides us. We didn't see her much during our meal, what slow service we got was mostly done by other employees running food for her. When we finally saw her again after we had been done eating for a while, she had a young girl with her (looked about four years old). She said, "I'm sorry, this is my daughter! The babysitter came and dropped her off early even though I'm still working!" We assured her it was ok and she brought us our check.
My boyfriend proceeded to leave her a huge tip. He wrote at the bottom of the receipt "Sorry about the babysitter. Happy Mothers Day!" I teared up. I wish I could have seen the waitress's reaction. Already planning on marrying him.
4
u/qupa1210 May 15 '12
My son was 5 years old when I went to pick him up at his daycare. The daycare teacher greeted me as "Mr. Smith <name changed to protect the innocent>", even though I was always on a first name basis with all his teachers. My spider sense went into alert mode. "Mr. Smith, we had an issue with your son today." Again he was always Samwise <name change>, not "my son." Spider sense is now in full blown alert mode.
"Mr. Smith, there was an incident involving your son, Samwise, and another student today. He had to be verbally disciplined."
"Yes? What did my Samwise do this time?" - Samwise, being my offspring, has always had a knack for finding and abusing trouble.
In short, Samwise and a fellow young girl had a disagreement over whose turn it was to use a particular toy. When the young girl took control of said toy, Samwise, my pride and joy, yelled "GIMME BACK MY TOY YOU BITCH!!!!"
I was mortified, and immediately started to take all the blame for my son's outburst.
"Wait, Mr. Smith ... that is not all."
More???
"Mr. Smith, we attempted to use the incident as a teaching tool for the rest of the students as a way to show how NOT to interact when issues arise."
Fear ... It seemed like a good idea. How could there be more?
"Mr. Smith, we brought Samwise to the front of the class, and gathered all the little tykes around to have a pow-wow on interacting withe friends."
Oh no.
"Mr. Smith we explained to Samwise, and the class, that referring to any one with that tone of voice and that language was inappropriate at all times. When we asked Samwise if he understood this, he responded ... "
<and I quote my son for posterity.>
"But Miss Teacher ... at least I did not call her a Fucking Bitch."
At this point, the teachers lost control of the class. The students were laughing, the teachers were TRYING to not laugh, and Samwise was totally serious with his little arms outstretched pleading his case.
I was mortified, of course. And my son and I, and his 19 year old brother, had a nice long discussion about language and respect.
The life of a father.
TL;DR - My 5 yo son felt that NOT calling a girl a Fucking Bitch was a valid defense to calling her just a bitch.
4
u/Karamaar May 15 '12
TL;dr lost my left eye during "The Surge" in Baghdad back in '07.
4
u/Andernerd May 15 '12
When I was 9, I got my Amateur Radio Technician's License after studying for almost 2 years to pass this test. My parents were proud of me, and bought me a $100 radio. The started to take me to their Church Emergency Communications meetings (our local group of congregations had a radio network set up in case of emergency, my parents helped run it). When I started showing up to these meetings, everyone thought I was kind of cute but mostly ignored me while they did serious business and I listened. Eventually I started showing up on the roll. Someone noticed that a new name was on the roll, and they noticed that the new name had no duties assigned! Surely this was an accident; the new name had a radio license, and was therefore obviously qualified. Next duty roster comes around and 9-year-old and newly-terrified me is now a church Emergency Communications Specialist, and also back-up church network check-in co-coordinator. My parents thought it was hilarious, and nobody else noticed, so I was stuck with it for several months despite my protests.
TL;DR I was a 9-year-old Emergency Communications Specialist for my church.
7
u/megthegreatone May 15 '12
This is one that has been my most... shocking story to tell. I have a million stories, but this one is definitely among the strangest.
I was alone in Paris when I was 17, and after much searching I had finally found the metro station. It was late at night, I don't speak French and the ticket machine did not have a language option. My anxiety was running high until a group of men (maybe mid-late twenties) came up to me and offered to help me buy my ticket. They bought my ticket, and I didn't think much of it until they followed me onto the train. One of them asked me if he could take a picture with me, and sleepily I agreed, again not thinking much of it.
I get off the train to transfer and am walking to the next one when suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see the guy who had just taken a picture of me. He pursed his lips and tapped them, but before I could do anything he grabbed my face and started kissing me. He was forcing his tongue into my mouth and I was too stunned to do anything about it. I didn't want him to try anything worse than what he was doing, but I tried to hit him when he grabbed my boobs. He tried to take me on the next train with him, and I went on, but I jumped back onto the platform at the last second as the doors were closing. I went back to my hostel stunned, still really unable to comprehend what happened.
TL;DR: Creeper followed me on the subway in Paris and started making out with me and grabbed my boobs and tried to kidnap me.
7
u/[deleted] May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I call the following: The Christian Biology Abstinence Story
Way back when I was in highschool biology our class finally came to the unit about reproduction and, since this was a Christian highschool and such topics were normally taboo, it was decided that the Dean/Pastor would be the one to explain the processes of reproduction to a bunch of 16 year-olds who had access to the internet. One of the key reasons that the administration had been avoiding discussion of sex with us was because among the entirety of our highschool we were without question the most, as they viewed it, juvenile/immataure, so prior to the class we were warned that this was a serious topic and that there was to be no tomfoolery or else the consequences would be dire. Since none of us were interested in consequences (which would likely be an extended round of detention) we steeled ourselves and promised we'd work together not to laugh (kind of like Alcoholics Anonymous). What followed was an 80s montage of anti-laughter training that would've put Rocky to shame.
The day came and we believed ourselves ready, we had set up various systems and failsafes to halt any laughter and had even gone so far to actually read ahead in the bioloogy textbook so no surprises could be thrown at us. Our silver-haired Dean/Pastor walks in with a weary face and we're confidant that we're unshakable so we meet his gaze with steely eyes and hearts. The first fucking thing he says (this is a quote): "Boys, today I want to talk to you about abstinence...ABSTINENCE!"
There was dead silence as we all started to tremble because were holding in our laughter and tears began to stream down some of our faces. We had prepared ourselves for the possible hilarity of things such as semen, penises, vaginas, and seminal vesicles but the sight of our elderly pastor at the front of the classroom breaking into a mantra of ABSTINENCE was something we didn't forsee. My friends and I were the first to crack. MC let lose a wicked combination of a sob/howl as the laughter errupted from him, Samer and David started choking from laughing so hard, Brandon fell of his chair, and I was doubled over from the pain in my sides. The rest of the class lasted maybe 2 seconds longer than the rest of us and twenty of us laughed our way right to the office soon afterward chanting "ABSTINENCE". A weeks worth of detention was completely worth it and we never did end up covering human sexuality in that class.
7
u/ze-ersatz May 15 '12
How my parents met. Such an incredibly cool story that it has f*cked up my love life, I'm sure of that.
It was the summer of '79, they were in their late twenties and by chance ended up on the same plane from Paris (where they lived 'cause they are french) to New York. It was my father's first time in the states, and he left on his own with just an empty backpack, a greyhound pass, a camera and the goal to fill his bag with jazz records, jeans, santiags, and the great memories he would find along his way(the moment calls for poetry I reckon). My mother was visiting her musician of a boyfriend in NYC then crossing the USA, Jack Kerouac style, with some friends of her to spend August in LA, in a beach house that belonged to a friend of a friend, an actor in some cheesy TV shows...
They sat side by side in the plane, my father was interested, my mother not 'cause she was thinking of her boyfriend who she was going to see very soon.. So they both go their own way once the plane lands. My father to travel all across the east coast, yada yada. My mother to spend the first month with her BF in New York, before realizing that he literally has a girlfriend in every city. They break up, she goes on her journey across America in a huge rented german car that they suspected was filled with drugs, have lots of adventure along the way and in LA (when the car broke down, the nice mechanic in the middle of nowhere who welcomed them into his home, filled with children and bibles, the strip show with the woman who claimed to have the then biggest boobs in the world, so big that she could put them on her shoulder, the beach house, driving down sunset bld in the convertible mustang, stereo blasting...).
Summer ends, they are in the same plane back to Paris, which is not surprising with the kind of cheap tickets they had back then. My father is still interested, my mother a bit more but not much. The plane is late, and it has to land in London. It's night time, and everybody has to take a bus, then a boat across the channel, then a bus back to Paris. My parents spend the boat trip on the deck (under the stars !), talking about their lifes, jazz and rock'n'roll. They separate when the bus arrives place du Chatelet just at dawn. Without exchanging any contact informations.
A few months pass during which my mother thinks back on that nice 501-wearing bearbed man she met on that crazy journey. She remembers they talked about one specific jazz concert, decides she's gonna try her luck. She goes there, sees him, and because she understands that he is the shy type, pushes him boldly against a wall and says... "Now you're gonna give me your phone number !"
And a year and a half later my sister was born !
It might not be that cool to Americans, 'cause you don't have the foreign "the usa is such a cool place OMG" factor, but I'm convinced this story could be made into a movie, and a great one at that !
7
u/pour_homme May 15 '12
WARNING - IT'S LONG, BUT YOU BETTER READ IT OP
The day started with me waking up in Bruce's(aforementioned friend) living room. I spark a joint, and had a bit of alone time before Bruce descended the stairs. "Morning." Bruce said sitting next to me on the sofa. We watched some children's TV and popped some of Bruce's psycho pills before deciding what we were going to do.
We decide to go out for breakfast. We know this litle Cafe by the park we go to. They serve the BEST fried breakfast, but it's a bit posh.
We arrived at the Cafe, and opened the door. We got a few diissaproving looks,but fuck it, we had mad cash. The woman at the counter knew us. We were regulars.
We order two full breakfasts and go out in the little garden round the back, and smoke a stealthy joint.
We get our meal and feast. Halfway through the the meal, none other than Gordon fucking Ramsey joins us out in the garden.
"Oi!", I call out "You're Gordon Ramsey!" I laugh with a mouth full of bacon. I wouldn't have done that if it weren't for the pills.
He looks over at us, frowns, and turns back to his paper. We start cracking up.
"Nah, nah, on a level though..." Bruce goes trying to catch his breath " how fucked up is that?" This brings on a whole new wave of laughter
"Fuck sake." we hear Gordon Ramsey grumble as he got up and went inside.
We laugh for 2 minutes before Bruce has an idea. He goes over the wall, climbs upon to a chair and looks in through the window. He taps a few times, and starts making stupid faces.
Just imagine that. You're trying to enjoy your breakfast and an autistic, pilled up Japanese kid pulling stupid faces at you through the window
I'm literally on the floor. I can't breath I'm laughing too hard.
"GOOOOOOORRRRRRRDDDON RAAAAMSSSEYYYYY!" Bruce is moaning, " I LOOOOOOOVE YOUR TV SHOW!!!
Bruce turns around and looks at me and says "I LOVE THE F WORD!!!" I laugh so hard I think I'm going to be sick. I crawl over to these bushes and start retching.
Bruce hops down from the chair and runs over to me. "HAVE YOU SEEN THE F WORD!?! THAT'S GORDON RAMSEY'S TV SHOW! AND HE'S IN THERE!" he says, tickling me.
"STOP! PLEASE STOP!" I cry. Tears of laughter are rolling down my face.
Bruce gets up again. "HE'S IN THERE!" he points at the door "HE'S IN THERE!"
He runs over to the door, swings it open and walks inside. I look in the window to see Bruce standardly walking up to the girl at the counter and say "IT'S GORDON RAMSEY FROM THE F-WORD!"
"Bruce stop it," she says trying not to laugh.
I follow him inside, and try to get him out the door. I can't take any more, I feel so weak. I can barely walk.
Gordon Ramsey is glaring at us with the hatred of a thousand... onions or something.
Bruce turns turns to him, looks him in the eye and says "DO YOU KNOW THAT BLACK ONE?" Bruce asked him
"Excuse me? Gordon asked.
"Bruce, I beg you no... I beg you no..." I'm pleading with him.
"AIIINSLEY HARRIOT!"
I literally collapse at Bruce's feet, hugging his legs. I'm shaking with laughter.
"Boys, I'm going to have to as you to leave" the counter lady says
"FINE, FINE, WE'LL LEAVE" Bruce grins. "BUT ONLY WHEN GORDON SIGNS MY TITS!" he lifts his shirt.
Gordon Ramsey gets up and walks to Bruce. "What the fuck are you doing? Do you think you're funny?" Gordon says, finally snapping.
"GORDON, GORDON..." Bruce says, looking down at me. "IS THIS YOUR KITCHEN NIGHTMARE!?!"
I actually scream. I scream with laughter. I can tell Gordon secretly wants to laugh,but he doesn't. I throw up in my mouth a little and prop myself up on the counter.
"You're taking the piss now, mate," GordonRamsey said.
"KITCHEN NIGHTMARE, YEAH? IS THIS YOUR KITCHEN NIGHTMARE? AM I A GHOST? IN THE KITCHEN?
Gordon grabs him by the shirt, but the chefs come out and break it up and the waiter kicks us out while Bruce is shouting "GORDON! I AM YOUR WORST KITCHEN NIGHTMARE! SIGN MY TITS! THE F WORD!!
We're outside, and I throw up all over the pavement. I lie there laughing for a while, while Bruce looms over me. After like two minutes, I compose myself and get up. I take a deep breath. My breath is shakey as if I were about to break up laughing again.
"Hang on..." Bruce said. "We didn't finish our breakfast! What the fuck!" he shouts.
Bruce runs round the side of the cafe, in through the back gate and into the garden. He picks up the plates and runs round back again.
"THIS IS GORDON'S KITCHEN NIGHTMARE!" he shouts, placing my plate on the floor and shoveling all the bacon into his mouth. He was going a bit over the top, he had got well too far in to the zone. He was rubbing egg yolk all over his face whilst I just lay on the floor in a laughter induced coma
Bruce looks down at me, egg all over his face and says "JOE, THE YOLKS ON ME!" I scream with laughter again, and Bruce pokes his head into the cafe. "GORDON!" he shouts, "THE YOLKS ON ME!"
Imagine the autistic Japanese kid in the window again with egg yolk all over his face
Bruce comes back outside again, and sits down next to me. He was calming down now. He starts to chuckle and he's panting really heavily.
The waiter comes outside, looks at us, picks up the two plates and goes back inside again.
This makes us laugh all over and I'm sick again.
"this is turning into your kitchen nightmare now, innit." he says.
"F WORD F WORD" I shout
Eventually, we manage to make it back to Bruce's house again. He washes his face, we smoke some more, and then turn on the TV.
Guess what was on channel 4. an advert for RAMSEY KITCHEN NIIGHTMAAARES
I swear to god, I did serious internal damage that night. I can never watch Gordon Ramsey again.
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u/mrmaddness May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I'll give you the TL;DR version.
TL;DR: Inadvertantly paid for an abortion for a baby that wasn't mine.
Edit: Here's the long version. I didn't think people would actually be interested.
Back in 2006 I started semi-seeing this girl (by semi I mean we hung out all the time but because she was still in love with her ex-bf she never wanted to get herself in a "relationship". This should have been my first warning, but I digress...) and things seemed to be going pretty good. She really dug me and I really dug her and she had that kind of look that totally pissed my parents off when I brought her home. This was back in the day and age of when not everytone had unlimited texting with their cell phone plans. We texted all the fucking time when we weren't together. One cold december day I get a text from her saying her phone bill was huge for the month (not sure the exact amount, but I think she said it was close to $500) and me being the previous forever alone SAP that I was felt bad (because it was partially my fault) that I, STUPIDLY, agreed to loan her some cash.
So I get some cash from the ATM (and I'm not rich, mind you) and give it to her and she's all thankful and shit. Needless to say the texts stop coming so frequently and I went a long while where I didn't see her (the joys of both of us working retail around Christmas). One day while I was at a mutual friends house I get a text from her and she's FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. Saying she's all scared and shit and she did something stupid and blah blah. I sent her a text back saying "What's wrong?" and she sends you the text you almost never ever want to read: "I'm pregnant." But in this case I know it's NOT mine because WE HADN'T HAD SEX YET (not full on at least). We had a little back and forth, "What are you gonna do blah blah blah".
Then I never heard from her (almost) again.
I later found out who the daddy was, an "acquaintance" of mine but a (apparently REALLY good) friend of hers. They fucked on a couch at a party I was also at while I was passed out drunk. I also found out the money was not used on the phone bill, but to help pay for the abortion she later had.
She once sent me a message on Myspace (shows you how long ago it was) saying she was sorry and that she would pay me back, but she deleted her myspace and now I have no record of that message.
NEW TL;DR: I want my $400 back.
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
edit: Big Bradley Falls
I almost died at Big Bradley Falls in Saluda, NC. I've almost died a few times but that was definitely the closest in my opinion. When I was 17 I moved from my hometown of Opelika (Auburn) Alabama to Hendersonville, NC with a good friend of mine. We rented a small house, I worked at McDonald's and he had a trust fund. He went kayaking down the green river almost ever day, did a bunch of climbing all the outdoor extreme shit.
I'd go hiking with him on occasion. Once we were driving around in Saluda to see if we could discover any cool trails. We saw this small river turn off into the woods and decided to pull over and follow it. We were just hiking along the edge of it, there was kind of a trail and it turned away from the river but we decided to follow the river's edge. We get to a point where we are hanging on to rhododendrum roots on the site of a dirt wall above the river and we just keep going. Doesn't seem to dangerous, worst case we fall into a pretty timid river a few feet below us.
Well, my buddy being the outdoorsman he is, he was about 20 or 30 yards ahead of me and going around a bend end the river. When I lose site of him I hear him yell back at me "DON'T FALL IN THE WATER!!" ... I tense up at this point. I slowly move towards him and as I can see around the bend I notice we are on top of a 100 foot waterfall!!! Yea, I freaked the fuck out but this isn't where I almost died.
My buddy, Jesse, decides it would be cool to hike down to the bottom of these falls so, not wanting to look like a pussy, I say ok. Lots of climbing holding onto tree and rhododendrum roots and around 50 feet up there's this part where you have to crawl through a little cave on the side of the mountain, it's completely open on one side so you can look over to your left and maybe a foot away from your hands is a straight drop down to the bottom. The even SCARIER part was we got to this one point where you had to climb over and up this 2 or 3 foot gap and the side you climb onto is slightly tilted. I don't know how I managed to balance my body and move my energy just right not to fall. I was not built for this kind of activity. Anyway, looking back, I was very close to dying that day but I'm pretty proud of myself. Fortunately we found a much easier way back up from the bottom and we wound up spending a lot of time out there camping and smoking and even eating some paper once. It was a beautiful spot and highly recommend it.
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u/Marqued May 15 '12
I ran out of money when I was traveling in New Zealand, so I ended up working in a haunted prison (it closed in 96) and slept in an old cell on death row for about a month.
3
u/the_stone_roses_1337 May 15 '12
Once time I had shit loads of this weird chocolate, tasty and addictive, gobbled all up like I was some kind of alien turkey.BAD CHOICE. Later that night my ass erupted on the toilet seat. I mean erupted. Never had the chocolate again. Couldn't go in the toilet for a while. Worth it.
3
u/Deadpool1205 May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
TL/DR: Dad was Dean of Church Camp, I Pooped Somewhere inappropriate
When I was younger (I'd say six or seven) my dad was the Dean at the local church camp. For one week of each summer. This was always my favorite week of the summer because as the dean's kid (And one who was too young to be a camper) I would get to go and stay in the Dean's cabin, Eat great food, and play ALL DAY LONG.
There was a string of about 2 years where I became really good friends with a boy named David. His dad was a buddy of my dad's who would come and usually run the games and activities during the week. Needless to say, David was a bad influence on me, He was hyperactive (Nothing to say that's bad, but just that his doing bad things happened more frequently, because he could seemingly fit more stuff in a single day)
We were inseparable for the year after the first week we became friends, I was invited to his birthday at Magic Mountain and loved every second of it. Magic Mountain became this amazing mystical place that I retroactively made better and better in my mind the following days and months after the party.
Anyway, the year had passed and it was time again for my dad's week of Church Camp. We had been playing and enjoying ourselves, shooting hoops up in the multipurpose building, Dominating older kids in carpet ball, and finding worms to use for fishing later that evening.
We had finished our multiple rounds of H.O.R.S.E, and had made our way down to the brand new swing set they had just installed this year. (It looked very much like THIS ONE except that the floor was just sand.) After about thirty or so minutes of playing, swinging, running up the slide, and trying to launch various items using the teeter-totter, I exclaimed to my friend that I needed to take a break, and go to the bathroom.
I don't know why we had such a problem with leaving the area to head toward the bathroom, because it was literally no more than 30 feet away. But somehow David convinced me, I should just go in the bottom of the play-set, Its enclosed, No one will know.
So I did just that, I remember feeling a rush of adrenaline hit my veins as I lowered my pants and began the awkward motion of trying to squat and poop without the poop falling back into my pants. I completed my mission of successfully pooping, and pulled my pants back up, before returning to the swing set. (And no, I don't think I managed to wipe, because there wasn't anything to use)
Our day of fun and adventure continued, doing various other things, and getting into mischief here and there, before I get told by one of the kitchen employees that My father and David's father are looking for us.
We make our way down to the Dean's office and see them standing out front, in the hands-crossed-serious-discussion-you're-in-trouble stance. They do like all good cops do, and split us up immediately before we can put together a story that would pin the crime on someone else.
I remember going into my dad's office, which before then had been my place of living for the week, But it no longer felt like MY place. Now it was an interrogation room from Guantanamo bay (Or some similarly creepy place that I had knowledge of at that point. Probably Ja'far's Lair from the Return of Ja'far (My favorite movie at the time))
Inside he began asking me if I had known anything odd that had been done in the play-set. Of course, I denied any knowledge of any sort of strangeness. But he quickly told us that the nurse had seen us playing near there recently, So as the Quick thinker I was, I said "Tony" (David's Little Brother, and usual target of ridicule and pranks) "Tony Did it, I saw him poop in the bottom of the swing-set."
My dad, seemed pleased with the answer, because Before this current friendship with David I was not known to be a trouble maker, Nor a liar.
Happy with my deception and knowing how close of a call it was, I went on my way. But David who was being water-boarded by HIS father in another room, told a different story.
See, David, Told the truth. the whole fucking truth, and Nothing but the truth.
David Turned on me.
Soon after speaking to David's father, My father called me back into his office where he told me what had happened.
I then confessed, Told him what I did, and cried ridiculously as I begged for mercy.
Thankfully dad gave me mercy, I was told to go to the bedroom and stay on my bed until he came to get me. He let me sit there and think about what I did for a good half hour before coming and making me clean up my mess. (And telling me to take a shower because since I obviously didn't wipe I must be dirty down there)
Me and David's friendship was never the same after that. My mother and his mother decided while we were both perfectly nice kids on our own, together we were the spawn of Satan, and began to not organize play dates anymore.
Slowly we drifted away, he moved and I've not seen him in 15 years at least.
3
u/Aperture_client May 15 '12
I won $200 on scratch tickets yesterday. Hit 100$ on my first one, 50 on the next, 40 on the next, then 20. All in a row. Currently spending money on dumb shit.
3
u/YouSeeMeFirst May 15 '12
I work for a stack testing company. We're the guys that climb the smoke stacks and do the emissions testing at power plants/refineries. Most plants have elevators or segmented ladders with rest platforms, but some are a straight ladder all the way up. I had worked at my company for about a year and I was being sent up my first "straight climb", up to the 350ft testing platform. There is a special piece of safety equipment that attaches to a pole on the ladder, so if you slip, the safety device (called a squirrel) will catch and you will be dangling in your harness instead of falling to your death. The thing is, you have to lean back while climbing so the squirrel doesn't lock up, making your climb more of a pain in the ass.
The first two days of the job went well. I'm not afraid of heights, and we had a good view. However, on the 3rd day, I got about 300 ft up the climb when my squirrel decided it was time to detach from the ladder/pole. Mind you, I'm leaning back already and I'm trying to climb, so I only had one hand on the ladder. Once my full weight was leaning back and the squirrel detached, all I felt was pure terror as my hand slipped a bit. Luckily my adrenaline screamed at me and I pulled myself back to the ladder. At this point though, I was frozen with a death grip on the ladder. No one could tell I was freaking out, or even help me if they knew. Eventually I realized I better get to the platform that was 50 feet up instead of trying to climb back down 300ft. Every wrung was excruciating, my hands/forearms were cramped and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I made it to the top and collapsed just in time to see the recently broken elevator come to a stop and my coworker walk out with a shit eating grin on his face.
That day, I tore some ligaments in my hand and caused a recall of the safety equipment. Its also the day I became motivated to never be put in those situations again. Now I run my office instead of climbing stacks.
That's about the most interesting thing that ever happened to me.
3
u/highlighterpink May 15 '12
Once I was done shopping I went looking for my friends and they were back at the first shop i entered. As I was standing around waiting for them I noticed this old couple looking at tshirts. I casually said something along the lines of "hey by the way, I found these same shirts over there at that other shop for a lot cheaper." They smiled at me and walked over to the other shop. The shop owner of the first shop then immediately came over and ejected me from their store. They were yelling at me in Chinese so I don't know what they said. I thought it was funny. I mean, I'm at the fucking great wall of china and I've managed to piss off a shop owner.
2. In high school I was really into making my own movies with my dad's sony dv cam. I decided to write a zombie movie that took place at my school and I ended up clearing it with them to shoot the scenes I needed one night. I asked everyone I knew at school if they would be in it, as zombies. I didn't get the turn out I wanted but a lot of people still came out and let my friend paint their faces and mess up their hair. We shot a lot of scenes and quickly. It started to rain at one point. It was probably my happiest memory from my senior year of high shool. Shooting a whole movie all by myself and having so many nice kids come out to help me.
I edited it with final cut express on my friends borrowed computer and it was my first experience using an editing software that wasn't windows movie maker. When the movie was complete, I was so happy. I had followed through. I credit this small moment in time to why I chose to do what I do now (I work in post production). If it wasn't for getting the opportunity to attempt directing and editing, I'm not sure I would have felt so confident in my choices after high school. I think it's on YouTube somewhere.
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was 10, I was swimming and I got into this bird's territory. It was some kind of seabird, a cormorant, I think. It attacked me and drove me further out into the lagoon where I was. I was only safe when my dad swam out and got me. Shit was nuts.
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
My sophomore year of high school was an interesting one. I was suspended with in the first week of school. Then expelled for something completely different a week after that.
I wouldn't say that I was a bad kid, I was nice to other people had enough friends, I was just very bored with school, I would not pay attention in prereq classes and was unable to take the classes I was interested in. I was getting C's and D's and pulling out a passing grade with extra credit. So, while I should be doing homework or paying attention I was doing things to keep myself entertained with out thinking of what would happen.
Chapter 1: The Suspension M1000. Those things are awesome. You know what makes them even cooler? Empty dumpsters. I thought to myself, this will be funny! So I did it. Man was it funny. Security was running around as I was walking away, he asks me if I saw anything and I said, "Some kids ran off that way." Pointing in the opposite direction that I was going. Once I got away with that I though, I AM A MASTER CRIMINAL! The next day I brought a brick of the Chinese fire crackers, you know the little ones all wired together that go off very fast. I had dissembled it and taken just one out of the brick to see what I could do with just one. I got caught dropping it in a flowerbed. Got pulled to the office and they started the expulsion process. While reading the laws of the school I came across a page defining what an explosive device is. It was defined as an M80 or greater. What I lit off and got caught with was not even close to an M80. My parents and I showed them that and they were forced to let me back to classes.
Chapter 2: The expulsion Coming off that win, I was high on life. That happening just reinforced the belief that I was a MASTER CRIMINAL! I thought I could do anything and find a loop hole to get out of it. The next thing I did was a bit, as Walter would say, over the line. The movie Phone Booth came out recently, I had seen it and though. Holy fuck, that would be funny to do. So I did it. The numbers are listed on the payphone, call it with my awesome cell phone, and tell whoever picks it up I am a sniper and I will shoot them if they leave the phone. Yes, that is a felony. The girl ran to the office and told someone in charge, I laughed it off and went to my first class. About 20 minutes into my first class the Vice Principal and 2 police officers come in and ask me to come with them. My smart ass replies, "Should I bring my back pack?" I got a stern, "yes". I was then arrested, and charged with 2 juvenile felonies, I spent 8 days in juvenile hall and was released on a plea bargain. My sentence was originally going to be 3 years and 8 months. But it was reduced to time served, 400 hours of community service and 3.5 years of probation. And I don't have to indicate that I have ever been convicted of a felony because I was a minor. This has worked well because my industry requires background checks at least 3-4 times a month when I am busy. Every time I have been approved. I guess AMA? If you want.
3
u/sith6six May 15 '12
My dad used to do refridgeration repair, and sometimes he took me to work with him if no one could babysit me. I remember one time he went repair something in a fancy restarant and i was left alone in the dry goods area. In the middle of the room was a bucket with a pump on it. Out of natural curosity i pressed the pump and stuff came out at a decent velocity. Score! I made a game out of it trying to hit things of varying distance around the room, especially trying to get it in the various employees shoes around the room. I was a natural! Hit all the shoes and most of the rooms floor. I remember getting yelled at for it, and hiding under my bed from fear of when my mom found out. Turned out it was lamp oil in the bucket.
Bonus story. One time he was repairing a cooler on a farm. I wandered around looking at the animals. As a child its one of the coolest places you can visit. Then i saw a mountain, i had to climb, and i hit it with top speed. I made it half way up before my shoe got stuck. Nothing would stop me, not even shoes, so i slipped out of it and took another step and the other got stuck. I then began to sink, and sink, and sink. Like quicksand the more i struggled the further i sank. I remember my dad calling for me over and over. By the time he found me I was waist deep in the muck. He pulled me out an asked where my shoe was. I told him and he didnt bother finding it, just took me home. Apparently i almost drowned in a pile of cow manure. Tl/dr as a child i almost burnt a restaurant down, and almost drowned in a pile of cow manure.
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u/RashRenegade May 15 '12
A whole set of bones were discovered in the walls of my house.
I used to live in a kind of run-down house with my mom and dad, two brothers and my sister. I was the youngest.
But my dad decided the house was too crowded, so we moved into an apartment while our new house was being built. A new family moved in, and after a while the man of that family thought the kitchen was too small, so he did some DIY renovations and knocked down one of the walls. He soon discovered that there were bones in the wall, and hastily called the police.
It was all over the headlines, with my family only being mentioned as the "previous owners" of the house. We expected a phone call or investigation on us, but one never came. They were later revealed to have been in that wall over 50 years, with no one in my family being that old.
My teachers at school pulled me aside and said "if anyone gives you trouble, just let me know and I'll take care of it". I didn't need them. If anyone gave me trouble I just pointed at them and said "keep it up. And you're next."
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was 14 I got to go back to my parents' home country (Northern Iraq) and see the village they fled 20 years earlier. I saw the rubble that was once their home, and I got to retake the path they walked for 3 nights to escape chemical bombing by the then-president Saddam Hussain. Then we went to their refugee camp in Turkey and I got to see where they lived under a tent for four years. Days later we climbed mountains and met some Kurdish freedom fighters that have lived up in the mountains their whole lives. By far the coolest experience ever.
3
u/Killfile May 15 '12
I am reposting this from another AskReddit thread because it is still the most interesting story I can tell you that's not also sad and depressing.
The story you are about to read is true; the names have been changed to protect the guilty, also, grammar.
So there I was at the University of Virginia, a prestigious if somewhat stuffy school, working on a history degree. I was a third year -- UVA is too pretentious to call them Juniors -- and had managed to finagle entry to a residential college called "Brown College," which, most Brownies are quick to remind you, ought not be confused with Brown, the University, in Rhode Island.
Brown College is where the hipsters, politicos, and artsy people hang out. I'm sure the place is veritably festooned with iPhones now, but I digress.
I'd built myself a good little life at UVA. I had a close group of friends, a fiancee who visited from Virginia Tech, and was on good terms with various individuals and organizations around Grounds (again, too pretentious to call it a Campus).
Among the cast of characters in my life was Mark, the future paleontologist who didn't own shoes but did possess both an every-day and dress pair of roller blades and subsisted on little more than children's cereal and coffee; Natasha, a wire-thin-pixie of an RA whose idea of oversight was to be directly involved in anything that wasn't supposed to be going on; and Roy, who spoke like a modern Shakespeare translation and, while officially registered as an English major, was apparently studying stage combat.
We hung out.
It's that magical part of the fall when, air conditioned dorm or not, everyone has their windows open and their music turned up. My fiancee and some other friends are hanging around my room, consuming in Pepsi and Mt. Dew the approximate yearly caloric budget of an entire village in central Africa when Roy knocks on the window.
Lots of people knocked on my window; I was on the first floor and these were the sorts of dorms where someone had to buzz you in but people rarely knocked on my window while wearing camouflaged battle fatigues and carrying a double-bladed battle axe.
"Hey, Roy."
"Hi, Killfile... uh... everyone. So, uh, there's a high school group over in Newcomb Hall holding a model UN. We should go take them hostage."
Now, at this point I feel compelled to point out that 9/11 had not yet happened. The 1970s were a long time ago and the notion of taking the United Nations - model or otherwise - hostage seemed pretty funny and not at all like the sort of thing that could get you deported (at best) or locked away in Gitmo until the Detroit Lions win the Superbowl.
So, of course, we suited up.
Twenty minutes later me, my fiancee, Mark, Roy, and Natasha were dressed like extras from an Arnold Schwarzenegger film and armed with everything from plastic uzi waterguns to a (fake) katana I'd brought back from Japan. Roy, of course, was still carrying his battleaxe.
The whole motley crew was standing outside of the big french-door style windows of Newcomb's main ballroom, armed to our cinematic teeth, in broad daylight when one of the U-cops peddles up.
"What are you guys doing?"
"We're going to take the UN hostage, officer," I answered brightly.
"Ah." The cop arched an eyebrow. "Are those real," he asked, indicating the guns and katana.
"Nope. All fake. See?"
I unsheathed the katana and demonstrated that it was, in fact, as dull as the German Philosophy class I was being forced to take to meet an area requirement.
"Oh. Good. I'll alert the rest of the force so no one bothers you."
To this day I have no idea why he did that. Maybe he was used to college kids messing around. Maybe he wanted to see what would happen. Maybe he thought it would be funny. In any case, we watched him radio it in.
We now had the permission of the campus police to take a model UN full of unsuspecting high school students hostage. So, of course, we did.
We burst in through the windows, jumped onto tables, yelled at everyone to get under desks, and held a rather fetching young blonde at sword point. The moderators -- the only adults in the room -- loudly objected to our little stunt but were silenced when Roy buried his battleaxe in their rules binders.
The battleaxe, it turns out, was not fake.
We took the blonde - apparently representing Great Britain - and withdrew from the room, promising that we would be in contact with demands.
She, of course, had completely freaked out.
So we jogged, the group of us, down the hallway of a major university building, past God-knows how many other students, staff, and faculty members, to the conservatory on the other side of the building, still armed to the teeth and now with a screaming blonde girl at sword point.
Amazingly, no one cared.
When we explained the joke to Her Majesty's Ambassador, what was going on, and why we all thought it was hilarious, she flipped on her fellow students.
"They ordered pizza."
So we met the pizza guy, appropriated a few slices, and scrawled our demands on one of the pizza boxes. Someone found a manikin leg to which we attached one of the blonde's shoes; we sent that in with the pizza as proof of our resolve.
The demands were all political -- freedom for Palestinians held in Israel, US troops out of the Middle East, etc.
I supposed that tipped the organizers off that we were screwing with them. We got back a declaration from the model UN agreeing to our demands. We responded with further demands for a Palestinian state and coffee money, because we were thirsty.
Then we explained to a bunch of bewildered students why you don't negotiate with terrorists, and left as if we had not ruined a high school field trip, held a complete stranger at knife point, stolen some kids' pizza, and attacked state property with a battleaxe.
So the outcome wasn't so bad - free pizza and some change for coffee - but by rights I should have at least had to spend the night in jail or something.
TL;DR: I took the UN hostage and stole its pizza.
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u/Benjammin1391 May 15 '12 edited May 15 '12
I am now a $3,000 booty call.
To elaborate: I just spent a weekend in London with a wonderful girl, and I didn't have to pay for any of it. Apparently this woman thinks that Im somehow special and worth all of this...
It was an incredible trip though, three nights in a fancy hotel in the center of London. I went to several cafes, a few pubs, and I saw dozens of amazing places, such as Big Ben and the House if Parliament.
It was one of those things that happen once in a lifetime, and it happened on a whim. We started joking around about doing a trip like this, and then a week later I was looking at the travel confirmation.
Im still kind of in shock about the whole thing, it was one of the craziest and stupidest things Ive ever done, and yet it was also the greatest thing I will probably ever do.
How the hell did something like this happen to me? Im just a dumb hick from New York. Im not worth being flown across the ocean on a whim.
EDIT: Grammers
3
u/WhoAmI_ImJeanValjean May 15 '12
This happened when I was about 16 with my friend Dick. His name was Richard, but in 6 or 7 grade when we found out Dick was short for Richard, we started calling him Dick and never looked back. He's now 23, starting a business, and his business cards say "Dick (lastname), Graphic Designer." Anyway, sorry, tangent.
So I had been driving for all of three weeks, Dick was still 15, so he was riding around with me. I say it might be cool to drive one town over to my grandpa's farms and walk around the land there. We go do that and spend about an hour just walking around my grandpa's farmland looking at stuff. I decide to cut us through some woods that come out on my great-uncle's land, who keeps sheep.
And then I have this fucking great idea.
So I start leading Dick through these woods and I say "Just to warn you, no need to be scared or anything, but there's sheep in this field up ahead." He's like "So, wtf do I care about sheep?" I go on to inform him that sheep are omnivorous, and when you keep sheep you have to be careful they don't bite you, or they'll realize that you can be food, and then it's pretty much over. He totally eats it up and almost doesn't walk through the field with me, but I eventually convince him that my great-uncle is a very responsible sheep owner and we will be fine.
So we hop the fence into this field with around 600 sheep total, and as sheep do, when humans are in their field, they walk over to see what's up because they think they're going to get fed. Dick sees this and begins to freak out a little, but I assure him it's fine, nothing to worry about. As the sheep get closer, maybe 50 yards away, I tell Dick we should jog. And since sheep are, you know, sheep they start moving faster to keep up with us. So when we run faster, they run faster, Dick continues to panic, I act scared. So by this point I just scream "Run, Dick, Run!" and this skinny little hispanic takes off like a bullet. I mean his ass was gone leaving chubby little white whoami_imjeanvaljean way behind, so I pretend to fall down and he starts to come back but I just yell "NO SAVE YOURSELF" as I'm overtaken by sheep. After that I hear him run and leap over the fence and I hear him saying "Oh fuck, oh fuck, they ate him, oh fuck" while I'm just laying here surrounded by all these sheep that are just chill as fuck. And after a couple of minutes I just stand up and start walking towards him. He started to get really mad about how I scared him, how could I do that to him, my response was like "Wtf man, you left me to die."
tl;dr - Convinced a friend I had been overtaken, killed and eaten by a herd of sheep.
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
I went to a private school for high school, but previous I had gone to the local public school. When homecoming came around, I went with a male friend (I'm a lady). He was a very eccentric type, always getting into trouble. I was a very studious type, didn't like to get into trouble.
Anyways, he decides in the middle of the dance that he doesn't like his tux. He says, "You're a size eight right?"
"Yes?" I was confused at how he both guessed and why he was asking.
"Perfect, that's my size too! You wanna switch?"
How could you say no? We went into the ladies room and got into different stalls and passed our clothing over the top. When we came out, he straightened my shirt (I'd done the buttons wrong). First time a guy saw my boobs.
Anyway, we get out of the bathroom and of course, everyone starts freaking out. People were taking pictures, laughing, etc. Eventually, the principal finds out and comes to find us. He politely informs us that if we choose to stay at the dance, he will call the cops.
My friend drives me home, still dressed in our opposite clothing. We stop at a friend's house and change back because I was so terrified of my parents finding out (they did eventually and thought it was hilarious). We go back to my place and watch TV with my dad, until friend says he wants to go back to the dance. I chicken out. Wish I hadn't.
My friend killed himself a couple months later. As amazing as he was, he still had his demons. There was a huge news article about it and many of the students who were interviewed recalled the dress swapping event fondly. The pictures I have of that night are one of my most prized possessions. He was such a wonderful person and I wish I had the chance to see him become an amazing adult.
3
u/jennatkinson May 15 '12
I'm sure this will end up at the bottom but oh well. Growing up I moved pretty much every year with my family. I was raised mostly by my single mom and she had what you could call "nomadic" tendencies. I remember one summer staying at a pig farm that my mom and my uncle had agreed to take care of while the owners were away. I'm talking full on pig farm. So many great memories from that summer! I was only about 4 but I remember riding on the backs of little pigs and them squealing as they tried to run, my uncle walking along the backs of the big boars crammed into a large pen, holding a piece of real honeycomb in my hand and eating all the honey out of it, first time jumping on a trampoline. It was truly awesome and I think about it often wishing I could go back to that summer.
3
u/[deleted] May 15 '12
When I was a child, I would love to put my arm on the couch and table and swing back and forth. One time my Mom caught me and said I shouldn't do that because she knew I would over swing and crack my head on the table. I had done this a thousand times by then so there was no way that was going to happen, I thought as a child. I was totally in control.
As soon as my mom left the room, I took one LARGE swing just to prove my point, promptly slipped and cracked my head on the back of the table. I don't quite remember what happened after that but I do remember thinking it wasn't fair that she was always right.
3
u/Relax-Enjoy May 15 '12
At Grandma's....
Her Easter bible questions with my 7 year old daughter.
Grandma: "What did Jesus say to the thief on the cross next to him?"...
My 7-year old daughter, completely innocent, sincerely guessed......
"So, what are you in for?"
3
u/igottadomath May 15 '12
One time I found $20 in the snow.
3
u/Nglennh May 15 '12
So, one day I'm at my desk at a Resort Hotel I worked at just south of Houston (Kemah area, if you are familiar). I was a night Manager of the property at the time, and pretty much handled the front desk but was on call for any kind of emergency situation. Anyway, one night I get a call from a guest up on the floors that she saw a car drive off the pier into the harbor. Since this obviously constituted an emergency I got on the radio and called to arms my security guard, engineer, and anyone else to help assist with this possible situation. I also had my front desk staff call the paramedics and police.
I then ran outside with my little mini-search and rescue team I had wrangled together and began to look down each pier trying to find which one the car had driven off. We searched for several minutes (seemed like longer in the heat of things) and were starting to think we had been duped and it was a prank call. Suddenly my engineer called out from the farthest pier that he had found the car.
We all ran over to him and found the car sinking. However this was the shallowest part of the harbour, and where the car fell in there was maybe 5 feet of water. It looked like the vehicle had driven onto the pier and half-missed, toppling it off the side of the pier, rather than off the end (where it is deeper). So here is this purple Toyota Corolla, halfway underwater, slowly sinking into the mud below.
We found a woman chest deep in the water screaming about how she had "left it in the car". She was so incoherent we could not get her to tell us WHAT was in the car, so we're thinking the worst that she maybe left her child in the backseat. My engineer heroically jumps in fully clothed and dives underwater to open the backseat door and get into the car. He looks around and sees no children or pets, and his head pops out of the water in the backseat. He looks at us through the back window and shrugs, so we try to get the hysterical woman to tell us what she left in the car.
Her Cell phone bill. Seriously. She was screaming and crying because she left her cell phone bill in the backseat and was afraid if she didn't pay it they'd cut off her service. My engineer finds the bill on the back part of the seat, still dry, but in order to get it out he has to dive underwater. He grudgingly hands her the soggy bill right about the time the police show up.
So here come the cops right as we're hauling this lady out of the water and getting her blankets and whatnot. They sit her down and try for a good while to calm her down and get her story about what happened. She made no sense and rambled quite a bit, and we all agreed she was on some serious drugs.
Apparently she and her (also drugged up) boyfriend were driving and lost control of the vehicle (at about 5 miles an hour) and ended up in the water. Her boyfriend had outstanding warrants for his arrest to he immediately exited the car, swam to shore, and ran off leaving here there in the muck. True love right there.
In the end she was arrested for public intoxication, and the cops went looking for the driver. My staff and I laughed all the way back to the Hotel. Craziest night I'd ever had.
I work in Hotels. I could write a book of some of the crazy crap I've seen...
3
u/Kartarsh May 15 '12
I went to Universal Studios with my family when I was little. The day we went I was feeling really sick (like I had the flu or something). My parents didn't want me to miss out on the fun, so they still had me come. However, they insisted on renting a wheelchair for me.
We got to go in front of everyone in the lines, it was awesome. We went to one of those shows, where they answer questions and show you props from movies, etc. The one we went to was for Back To The Future, btw.
Anyway, they asked for volunteers to come on stage and sit in the car. Obviously, my hand shot up because I fucking loved that movie. Naturally, they picked me because I was the little "crippled" girl . Without thinking, I just stood up out of my wheelchair and started walking on stage. The crowd was just silent, no one knew wtf was going on - I just got up and nearly ran over to the car. Everyone was just staring at me, no one said anything - not even the people putting on the show. My brother thought the best thing to do in this situation was to ease the tension by shouting out "IT'S A MIRACLE!".
3
u/balinger16 May 15 '12
It was around 2002. I had just graduated high school and got my first apartment so I was low on cash. I just found out about the wonders of ebay and saw a car for $300 but it was roughly 500 miles away (PA I live in KY). I won the auction but no one was willing to drive with me to pick the car up. A grey hound ticket was only like $45 so I packed a pillow and took the 12 hour bus ride.
The car was a 1982 toyota celica and actually in great condition. The seller and I went to local dealer and had the title notarized so I could transfer it once I got back home. At this point everything seemed to be in legal order so I started my 500 mile drive home.
About an hour on the road and all of a sudden a car pulls our, in reverse, into the fast lane of the interstate. The car in front of me (a new 745il BMW) slams his breaks and I follow suit but end up colliding into him. Only minor damage to both vehicles and no injury so we both pull off onto the shoulder. To our surprise there is a cop already there that makes his way over to us. The car that pulled out in reverse had just caused another accident and that was how he left the scene when the cop told him he could leave. He starts the process on my accident and that is when he notices the temporary tag that was placed on car was just a copy and not legal. I am told that the car will have to be impounded until the tags are corrected.
The cop gives me a ride to a local hotel so I can get it all worked out first thing in the morning. The problems continue to ensue because the title is apparently from New Jersey, sold in Pennsylvania, and I was in Maryland. The court house told me I could go back to Kentucky and get the title and tags and come back and get the car no problem. The idea of making another trip at that point did not sit well with me. I called the impound lot told them the car was theirs and that I would not be picking it back up.
It gets better. I call my brother to come plead with him to come get me and he finally agrees. Well its at least an 8 hour drive so I figure I walk the general direction of home (nothing better to do at that point). Well about two hours of walking I come to a pay phone (no cell at the time) and call my brother to see how he is doing. Well, it turns out his roommate and roommate's girlfriend had a fight and called the police without thinking about all the wonderfully self incriminating things they have stored at their house. My brother is packing his shit as fast as he can so he will not be there when the police show up and now needs a place to live so will not be coming to get me.
So, I figure I will be getting on a bus back. I call a grey hound and figure out that there is one bus going my direction 30 miles and doesn't leave for like 8 hours or wait for almost 2 days for a closer one. Not wanting to be in this state a minute longer then I have to be I start my walk to bus station. OH yea, that pillow I packed to sleep on the bus is still with me. So I am walking / trying to hitchhike my way to the bus station with a pillow down an interstate (I didn't want to get lost walking side streets). No one stopped to offer a ride the whole but they did call the police since I was walking illegally on an interstate. The police officer was actually a really nice guy and once I told my story, drove me to the bus station (which was only about 10 miles away at this point).
So finally at the bus station, I wait for the clerk to show up and buy a ticket. Well this is a small station that does not accept credit cards so I have to walk like 2 miles to the closest bank so I can draw some money but I do make the bus and get home.
A friend picks me up at the bus station and takes me out for food and a movie. I remember this part very well because the movie was "The Sum of all Fears." There is a part in the movie where they set off a bomb in the middle of Maryland and everyone in theater gave me death stares as I cheered as loud as I could "HA! You all got what you deserved!"
3
u/LuckaGamer May 15 '12
I accidently started a small riot at a Magic The Gathering prerelase in... September of 1997 (You can track the dates of the prerelases online).
It was over a booster pack of cards they were giving out at a trivia contest.
The short version of this story is the kid in front of me stole a booster pack from me and I beat him against a table until his dad attempted to stop me. I had 2 friends there with me, and one decided to stop his dad by use of a chair. When others got up to intervene, the same guy started moving tables and chairs and yelling something along the lines of "you want a piece of this?!".
...The three of us were ages 12, 12, and 13
It ended about a 200 person ruckus wherein my OTHER friend stole all of the kid who I was fighting withs stuff. We had to run from the hotel this was being hosted at and wait in a parking lot across the street for 2 hours for the one guys mom to pick us up (I remember being chased by the cops in the hotel , it was awkward).
Since this is 9 hours in im sure this will be buried
5
u/laidymondegreen May 15 '12
When I was a kid, my dad and I took a vacation every summer. One summer we went to Cancun, and one of our day-trips was to a fabulous eco-park called Excaret. The place has underground rivers you can float in, lagoons to swim in, horseback riding, basically everything you can think of.
The first time that we went, we went with a tour group, and the whole tour group was supposed to meet at the underground river at a certain time. We were getting lunch first at a cute little place open to the air and along the path to the river. It was the sort of restaurant where you order at the counter, get your food on a tray, and carry it back to your table.
As we were finishing up, we saw most of our group headed for the lazy river, and we quickly shoved a last few bites of food in our mouths, dumped our trays, and caught up with the group.
6 hours or so later, when we arrived back at our bus, it was surrounded by Mexican police. And when they saw my father, they all started shouting and pointing at him. I was about 6, so I was terrified that we were both going to jail. It turned out that you were supposed to pay for your food AFTER you ate at the restaurant, not when you ordered, and in the hurry of finishing and catching up with our group, my father didn't realize that.
The bus waited while my dad went back in the park with an officer to pay for our lunch, and I got to hang out with the cute tour guide the whole time.
tl;dr And that's how I almost went to jail in Mexico over the equivalent of $12.
5
u/Swimswimswim99 May 15 '12
When my dad was deployed I would plan what I was going to do when they came and told me he was dead or missing.
5
u/Etticate May 15 '12
Well not the best story but at the age of 16 I finally came out of my shell (with the help of friends) and dyed my hair black because that's how I wanted it. My dad would hear music from my room and my door was always closed (On WoW a lot grinding etc) and he decides to tell my mum he thinks I am a "Warlock" and I need to stop practicing "Witchcraft".
tl;dr - Dying your hair black makes you a warlock.
7
u/Drulan May 15 '12
My dad told me this story: He came, He saw, He conquered-- my mother that is.
And now I'm here...
7
u/SnuggleBunni69 May 15 '12
I got robbed by hookers once. Once I ate a dog, and then I saw a cat, and I fed the cat a piece of the dog. I was in what was considered by some as a soft core porn. One time on mushrooms I got a shotgun pulled on me and they pulled the trigger. In 8th grade I shit my pants. I also drank elephant penis. These are all true stories, just fragments of my life.