"In the wonderful year 2000, I was about 10-11 years old. X-Men had just come out and it was also around this time that the internet was booming. The only computer in our house that was connected to the Internet was in my older brothers' room.
One particular weekend, my brothers were away with some friends out of state and I had a friend spend the night over. We went into my brothers' room to see what dumb things we could look up on the Internet.
We randomly started typing things into the URL bar like www.food.com and www.games.com, generic kid stuff. Well, my friend suggested we go to xmen.com as we had recently watched the movie....and it loaded, except it was NOT the movie, it was a naughty site.
The screen was suddenly inundated with pop-ups of naked women, and none of the windows had x's to close out. Being young and stupid, we did the logical thing...turned off JUST the monitor and ran out of the room. That would surely make it go away.
Except it didn't and the next morning my super Catholic mother had many questions for us. I don't think she believed for a second that we weren't actually trying to look up naked ladies."
"One summer, I was doing a co-op program at a farm and got the task to milk one of the cows. Now, this cow was kinda feisty, and as soon as I put the bucket down, she'd kick it over with her foot, so I often used some string from the barn to tie her hind legs to a post.
But one day, she was particularly feisty and used her tail to flip over the bucket. There was no more string, so I used my belt to tie her tail up to a post. When I stood up, ready to finally milk her in peace, my pants fell down due to the lack of belt. In that exact moment, me with my pants down, the cow with her hind legs and tail tied up, the farmer's wife came in...Needless to say, it was awkward explaining the situation."
"I used to have an office job and there was a woman on my team that I got along with pretty well. She was about medium height and blonde with a ponytail (i.e. she looked like a whole lot of other women in Australia).
She got a promotion to another part of the business on another level, so I didn't see her day-to-day after that. Then one day, I see this medium-height woman with a ponytail bent over the dishwasher (which is on the ground) in our kitchen. I think it's my old coworker, so I walked up to double-check, because I was puzzled as to why she's down on our level of the building again.
She turned to look behind her and it was some other woman I'd never met before. All she saw was a large male stranger, standing behind her, staring at her butt while she was bent over the dishwasher. I can't even remember what awkward excuse I mumbled before I got the heck out of there. But yeah, that was two years ago and I still cringe thinking about it."
"In seventh grade, one of the female gym coaches asked me (a guy) to run into the girl's locker room to grab some volleyballs that were stored there. She assured me it would be fine since it was the middle of class and nobody would be in there, but I really, really, really did not want to do this.
I had to go anyway, though, and as I was leaving, volleyballs in hand, two girls rounded the corner and saw me coming out of the girl's locker room. 'What the heck are you doing?' one of them asked.
Showing them the sack full of volleyballs wasn't enough of an explanation, but I was so nervous I couldn't get my tongue or my brain to work. I decided the best thing to say would be, 'I'm not a pervert,' but for some reason what came out instead was, 'I'm not gay,' and then I ran off. What surprised me was that the flack I caught for that one only lasted about a week."
"Years ago, I was working in DC and walked outside to get some lunch. It was freezing, so I dressed appropriately--heavy coat, knit cap, black gloves. I start walking west toward a falafel shop a few blocks away and there was a gaggle of girls about 50 yards ahead of me on the sidewalk, chattering away. I don't really give them a second glance as I was walking quickly because, again, it was freaking freezing.
So maybe a block later, all of a sudden, a dude walked up beside me and started acting super weird. I slowed down, he slowed down. I sped up, he sped up. I asked him what the deal is, he refused to answer me, and I decided I was gonna cross the street.
All of a sudden, he grabbed my arm and said, 'We're just gonna keep walking together for a little while longer.' It's at this time that I notice his earpiece, and his partner across the street, walking parallel to us.
A block later, I was at my destination, so I went right, just as the group of girls turned left and this guy breaks off to cross the street. Apparently, it was Hannah Montana and her friends, and her security detail thought I was a legitimate threat."
"When my brother was dying of liver failure (at 29 years old), he was a borderline psychotic mess. Ammonia released by the liver creates a 'cloud' effect in the brain, so the person cannot think clearly and is seriously mentally altered.
He had just come out of a medically induced coma, like 24 hours before, but was not conscious when his catheter was placed and anchored to his upper/inner thigh. He was so anorexic and dehydrated that his junk was shriveled so he could not see it even if he wanted to, with the distortion of his vision and depth perception.
It was my turn to sit with him and he flipped out, saying his balls were gone. Like, full on ripping at his hospital gown, screeching that his balls were gone. I have no idea why he did that, but ya know--he was detoxing (addict) + ammonia cloud = crazy.
I tried to explain the catheter and such but he wasn't comprehending anything in his psychosis. To calm him down before he hurt himself or ripped out the catheter, I helped him stand up (he barely weighed 100 lbs at this point).
I kinda held his sides and squatted in front of him while he held his gown up so I could announce to him that his balls were still there. Then his doctor walked in, while I was eye level and like 6" from his nuts, with his gown above his head.
I didn't even bother explaining, I just helped him back into his bed. I'm his older sister and a nurse, which is why, even at his craziest, he demanded I look for him. He always did ask me dumb medical questions. And yes, I told that story at his funeral. I miss him a lot."
"This happened on my 22nd birthday and I was working nights at the time. It's the middle of summer, it's buggy, and my boss decided to give me the night off. I woke up at my regular time so as not to throw off my sleep schedule (2 pm) and I was debating what to do after I cooked myself breakfast.
I hung around the apartment for a bit, then decided to ride my bicycle around. I was wearing a black baseball cap because I couldn't find my helmet. Worried about bugs in my teeth, I also threw a black bandana on over my nose and mouth. I had a backpack full of brews to drink on the way downtown, also black.
I hit the trails with my nice big lights on my bike so I could see where I was going, and made it the 15 or so miles to downtown. I did stop every couple of miles or so and had a cold one. So by the time I got downtown, it was midnight.
I got spotted by a police officer riding a bicycle downtown with a dead battery in my tail light, a black hat, and a black bandana over my face at midnight on a weekday. Needless to say, the officer's interest was piqued, and he rolled his car around to investigate.
Once he realized I was a moron, and not actually up to no good, he was really chill with everything. He ran my license for wants and warrants, we had about a 20-minute chat about paintballing (paintball company backpack), he wished me a happy birthday, and sent me on my way. He definitely thought I was up to no good."
"I was in high school and living with my grandparents when my best friend at the time got kicked out of his house and needed a place to stay, so I invited him over. He had hickeys all over his neck from his girlfriend at the time.
Then, later on that night, I called my girlfriend and sneak her in. She and I fooled around and I bust out the baby oil to use as a lubricant. She ended up leaving me a few hickeys which I didn't mind, but it was the next morning that got really weird.
My friend and I were eating breakfast, both of us with hickeys on our neck. Apparently, my grandpa had looked through my room and found the baby oil, so he came downstairs to the kitchen where my friend, my ENTIRE FAMILY, and I were eating, holding this bottle of baby oil. He was screaming, 'What is this?! Why do you have this?! What were you two doing last night?!'"
"I'm a memorial mason by trade, so I often make and repair headstones in churchyards and cemeteries. Now, extended gypsy families in the UK love to splash the cash when someone dies, so they go all out with massive headstones, which run thousands of pounds. A lot of them tend to have feuds, even inside their own families, and they're very, very picky and fussy.
I had a job once where a gypsy family's headstone had been hit by a mower in the cemetery, which had knocked a chunk of the base off. The son of the person in the grave had told me to take the stone away, replace the base, and do some other refurbishment.
I got there and the stone has basically been blocked into place by two vases next to it, which meant I was going to have to remove them. Hitting the bottom with a bolster and hammer isn't a good idea as they're rounded and easy to damage. So to break the joint, I start violently kicking one of them with the heel of my boot.
At that precise moment, a white van drove into the cemetery and I heard an unmistakable Irish accent start shouting, 'WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?' I frantically explained that I'm a mason and I was doing some work to the stone.
It turned out it was the other son who had no idea his brother had authorized any work, so to him, it just looked like a random bloke was kicking the heck out of his dad's memorial."
"One night, my boyfriend went to an Aesop Rock concert in the middle of a really crappy part of the city. Tons of junkies lined the streets, I mean, all you had to do was make eye contact with someone on a corner and they'd try to sell you smack. But whatever, we were only parked a couple blocks from the venue.
We were on our way back to our car and we'd both had a couple drinks so we were a little buzzed and were taking turns kicking a can down the street. At one point, we both tried to kick the can at the same time. I had my right leg off the ground, mid swing, and he kicked my left leg straight out from under me, so I fell flat on my back.
Now, my boyfriend is a perfect gentleman and would never purposefully hurt me but before he could even react and help me up, a cop flipped his car to our side of the street, put his lights on and marched straight up to my boyfriend. He panicked, ran up to the cop, and started shaking his hand, saying, 'She's fine! It was an accident, this isn't what it looks like!'
The cop was watching me get up and glaring at my boyfriend. He kept asking me if I was okay, if I needed any help, blah blah blah. I had smacked my head pretty hard on the pavement, so I was a little teary-eyed which did not help.
I kept assuring him that I was fine and that it was an accident. He totally didn't believe my boyfriend and kept asking if I was okay. At this point, my boyfriend looked like HE was going to cry, and he's trying to hold my hand and make sure I'm okay. I just started laughing because my boyfriend was so terrified that the cop thought he was abusing me.
I hugged my boyfriend and explained what happened, trying not to laugh the whole time. The cop finally believed the story and let us go, but I saw him circle the block and check on us a couple minutes later. I love telling this story because if you knew my boyfriend, it's ridiculous to think he'd hurt anyone."
"I was like 18/19 and was in Daytona with a few buds. We got hammered and decided to walk down the main road, where there was a semi-attractive woman wearing scantily clad clothing and sitting on a car hood in a hotel parking lot.
She yells at us as we walk by and asks if we have a lighter. I smoked at the time, so naturally, we walked over to let her use mine. We chatted it up for a minute, and she ended up giving me her number. The second we stepped off the property, three police cars come flying in and box us off. The cops got out and interrogated us about soliciting a lady of the night."
"I recall when I went to a fancy dress ball early on at university. Being a big film lover, I thought it would be great to go as Lawrence of Arabia. I found myself a great costume with the full flowing robes and everything.
However, it was only a month or two after 9/11, and I simply hadn't connected the dots. A lot of people thought I'd gone as Osama Bin Laden and my attempts to tell them about the life of T.E. Lawrence fell on deaf ears. I got a fair amount of death threats that night."
"A few years back, I got pulled over by the police. The officer got out of his car looking at me funny, then asked me about the blood on my face. That's when I blurted out, 'Oh, that's alright officer, it's not my blood!'
It wasn't the best thing to say and he gave me an even funnier look. 'It's animal blood!' Ok, kinda better? I managed to pull myself together enough to explain I was a bird of prey trainer and after a long day at work forgot to wash my face after feeding the hawks. I showed him some pictures of me holding birds, and after he saw my falconry stuff in the back, he laughed and let me go.
"I was recently touring a movie set with co-workers. We were at 'base camp' where the cast and crew had meals and prepped for shoots. While walking past a tent, I saw something brightly colored through a tiny gap in the fabric. The 5-year-old in me got curious and popped the tent flap open to check what it was (it was a box of candy).
Immediately afterward, I heard a gasp. I turned around to see people in my group staring at me. I looked back at the tent and saw the sign I hadn't noticed previously: 'Women's Dressing Room.' I was SO GLAD no one was in there, but I still don't think some of my co-workers bought my candy excuse."
"I was drinking down at the pub shortly after the smoking ban had come into effect. The bar staff would shoot a big water squirter at anyone lighting up inside. I was minding my own business when some lady got hit in the face with the water squirter, instead of the intended target. She made a small scene, nothing to worry about.
Seconds later, some massive guy came over to me and said, 'Don't you ever do that again.'
So, I said, 'What are you talking about?' He was pretty ticked off, but I had absolutely no clue what he meant. He kept at it and I kept reiterating that I didn't know what's going on. I wasn't going to back down, as I'd truly done nothing. But he kept going.
At this point, I was getting ready for a fight, in which I'd probably get my head caved in. He eventually (finally) accused me of spitting my drink at this lady. And thank God I realized what had happened (and he did too, at the same time). He was at an awkward angle and the stream from the water squirter (broken up at that distance) looked like me spitting my drink at her. In the end, we made friends, and he was very apologetic."
"Years ago, I needed a map to find a street. I was at church and on my way out, so I asked one of the staff members if the church had a map. He said, 'I think there's one in there,' and pointed to an office as he was leaving.
I stepped in just as the person whose office it was came around the corner. She walked up and started going off, yelling that now she knew who had been breaking into her office and stealing her stuff.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but she refused to talk to me and let me say anything, instead just yelling over me and interrupting every time I tried to say something. Luckily the next morning I had a long talk with the preacher and the woman called me later that afternoon and apologized."
"My ex and I were on an university shuttle bus back to campus after we had a romantic dinner on Valentine's Day. We were the only passengers on the bus, and we decided to sit in the back.
My ex was really tired after our whole night, so she started to lie her head down on my lap to rest. Not long after she did that, the bus driver screamed, 'Oh heck no, you're not doing THAT on my bus!'
My ex and I quickly tried to explain what was happening. She was mortified, but I couldn't stop laughing while talking to the bus driver. Once we got off the bus, the driver yelled to us while chuckling, 'Happy Valentine's Day!'
"One time I got pulled over for expired tags and the trooper asked me for my license and registration. I forgot that I had placed a pellet shooter in my glove box to freak out a friend, so I opened said glove box and a very real looking metal glock dropped onto seat.
The state trooper instantly unsnapped his holster and took a half step back. I explained the situation to him, he checked the weapon,then told me to keep it in my trunk. I got a ticket for the tags, which was dismissed two months later, but if I would've accidentally reached for the pellet shooter or something, I could've been shot."
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