From sneaky Irish exits to heart-pounding pursuits, these weird, wild, and wicked Redditor’s stories are proof that one’s Spidey senses should definitely not be ignored. It’s time to take gird your loins, take some deep breaths, and listen to the inner voice that’s telling you to dive into the drama—you won’t regret it…
I went on a date once. It went well and we went back to the dude’s house. That's where the night took a bizarre turn. He proceeded to pull out his wedding album and started flipping through it while reminiscing and crying. I comforted him with a friendly hug and said, “Well, I guess you can’t win ’em all”.
Then I told him it was cold and needed to get my jacket out of the car. Lies. I left.
Me, my wife, and my two-year-old son went to go see the fireworks display in the town that we lived in. There were a lot of people there but we got there early so that we could have a front-row seat. We laid down a blanket and sat there waiting for the show. We were maybe 45 meters (50 yards) from where the fireworks were going to be set off.
Anyway, after about an hour, the fireworks display started and we laid back and watched as they exploded in the sky. All of the sudden, there was some type of malfunction. Fireworks started exploding into the crowd. I saw the first motor shell whizz into the crowd.
As soon as I saw that, adrenaline took over and I grabbed my son and started sprinting toward the parking lot. As I was running, explosions and sparks were filling the air all around me. It felt like something out of a movie. I was leaping over people who hadn’t grasped what was going on yet.
Fireworks were whizzing by me, hitting buildings and exploding. One went into a minivan and exploded inside of it busting out all the windows and throwing glass and Sparks everywhere. I didn’t stop to look at anything, I just kept running as fast as I could with my son in my arms until I got to the car.
The whole time, my wife was on my heels. I put my son in his car seat as fast as I could, made sure my wife was in the vehicle, and got the heck outta there as fast as I could. That was insane. I still love fireworks I just prefer to set them off myself now.
After the bar one night, I was in a car with my friend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s friend from out of town. I was in the backseat with the out-of-town guy and he kept trying to put his hand up my skirt. I kept whacking his hand and telling him to keep them to himself.
The handsy dude then complained to his friend that I was being unfriendly. “You promised me a good time,” the handsy guy said. “I didn’t pay for this. What’s her problem?" At the next red light, I jumped out of the car.
I didn’t care that it was the middle of winter, very far from my apartment, in a part of town I didn’t know, before the days of cell phones. I ran in the opposite direction and found a little convenience store that let me use the phone to call a cab.
In the late 70s, I was stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. I was off-post drinking with a buddy when we met a couple of older vets. We started talking and joking. It was a nice time. As the bar was closing down they invited us to their place to have a few more drinks. I drove a ’65 Chevy pickup so we followed them down into Clarksville.
We ended up having some drinks in the family room while the one guy’s wife and kids hung around. Suddenly, it got dark real quick. Out of nowhere, these guys turned nasty and started making insulting remarks, without any humor to them. The mood had totally changed.
I excused myself to take a leak and try to think clearly. Just as I came out of the john, I heard the guy who owned the house say to his wife in the kitchen, “Take the kids back to the bedroom and lock the door. Don’t come out, no matter what you hear out here”.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I immediately got tunnel vision. I turned and ran top speed down the hall. As I passed the family room, I yelled to my buddy as I bolted out the door.
I had the Chevy fired up in no time flat and saw my friend dive into the bed of the pickup through the rear-view mirror as I revved the engine and fishtailed out the driveway. That’s my “I need to get out of here ASAP” story and it still makes my palms sweat thinking about it.
This happened when I was at a party during high school. I got loaded for the first time and, because I didn’t know my limit, I ended up blacking out.
A couple of hours later I woke up next to my boyfriend at the time. He was doing the deed with a girl—right next to me—while touching my leg. I sharpened up quickly, jumped up, and ran home.
My parents used to have a small shed where they tossed all their old newspapers. They never cleared it out or anything, so over the years, this shed had filled up almost to the roof.
We kids used to go and play in there. I liked reading the old papers, and everyone else liked it because it was a cozy little space that could only fit about three kids comfortably as long as we were sitting.
Anyway, we adopted the paper shed as our clubhouse and decorated it with “streamers” which were really just some kind of acrylic wool we had found. We also put candles in there because it was kinda dark. Can you see where this is going?
Yeah, well, one day my brother and I were hanging out in the paper shed and I had my back to the entrance… My brother was sitting at the entrance, playing with the candles and wool. He’d discovered that if he set fire to the wool, it would drip flaming globs of wool onto the paper—like teardrops made out of fire.
I had no clue he was doing this until I heard him gasp and book it out of the shed. I turned around, and suddenly there were foot-high flames between me and the exit. In the time it took for me to scramble to my feet, the flames exploded until they were touching the roof and blocked my exit completely. I was trapped.
Because I was young, I thought that jumping through the flames would have me instantly perishing, but I also knew from the speed of the spread that I didn’t have time to call for help. I was in stunned shock for a second until some part of my reptile brain snapped out of it and decided that I had to get the heck out of there RIGHT NOW.
The next thing I knew I was hurling myself through the flames to safety, learning that no you don’t actually instantly turn into a pile of ashes. We spent the next few hours surreptitiously hosing down the shed.
We were really hoping that we could hide the entire incident from our parents, but we stupidly didn’t realize that we were covered head-to-toe in soot and stunk of smoke. We were instantly busted and punished.
This happened one winter when I was in Canada building a cinder block wall. We had the work area all tarped off and there was a portable salamander heater running to keep us warm. One day, I noticed my eyes were starting to burn pretty badly. I looked over at the guy I was working with and asked if he felt weird in any way.
When he looked at me I saw that he was squinting and realized that I was too. We were maybe 20 feet (six meters) from each other. Needless to say, we immediately turned off the heater and quickly made our way outside the tarp. I wasn’t in the mood to kick the bucket from inhaling excessive amounts of carbon monoxide.
In college, I got a job as a bouncer at a nightclub. It wasn’t my first job working in a club, but since I was the new guy and it was winter, I got to check IDs at the door while everybody else was warm and toasty inside. Over my first few weeks, I noticed something troubling.
I was turning away a significant number of underage girls, most of whom kept saying that they knew the owner. Whenever I was on my break, I’d go inside and see some of these girls going in and out of the VIP lounge. I told my boss about it and he told me not to worry.
He said that the owner let them in through the back door and they weren’t drinking. I thought that was pretty unlikely, but I held my tongue, as it was the owner who was going to lose his license, not me. About four weeks into working there, a guy came through the line and flashed me a DEA badge that looked pretty real.
When l asked him for a picture ID as well, I thought he was going to be upset, but he simply said, “You’re new. If you can take next weekend off, I suggest you do it”. My contract was up soon, anyway, so I said that I would.
The next weekend, the DEA raided the place and apprehended over 30 people for trafficking, solicitation, and substance-related offenses. My boss, the promoters, and the club owner were all busted. I’m pretty sure that was the luckiest break of my life.
Went to Indiana University and met a townie girl. After a few weeks of friendship, she invited me to a party with some of her friends that I’d met once before. Luckily, I decided to drive and was smart enough not to go too hard with the drinks. I was the only person there who wasn’t a townie, besides Mike, the neighbor I’d met her through.
So, Mike and I stuck together all night, and honestly, it was going really well. I was having a great time despite some of the “Who the heck are these guys?" looks we were getting. I went to go upstairs where several people had been hanging out, and as I was entering the room, I almost had a heart attack…
The owner of the house, who we’d met before and been fine with, was pointing A LOADED CROSSBOW at me, blocking my entry into the room. Wanna talk about an adrenaline dump? I slowly put my hands in the air, backed out of the room, closed the door, SPRINTED downstairs, and grabbed Mike and the girls.
We were gone in 30 seconds max. NEVER get too inebriated around people you don’t know.
This happened around 2002. I am a female and was almost 30 at the time. I was working late at my office in Chicago during a heavy snowfall. I stepped outside for a smoke. It was cold and snowing like crazy so I walked a few steps into the parking garage next door.
Suddenly, two big dudes came out of nowhere saying they are parking attendants…Every single hair on my body stood up. I ran out into the street just as the guy grabbed for my jacket. I made it back to work safely, thank God. I’ve never told anyone that story. I’m super street-smart but that day I made a really bad decision.
Those guys were definitely not parking lot attendants. Fight or flight. Dark parking garages still terrify me.
One night, I was walking home from the bar along a long semi-lit street. Not too far behind me, a man was yelling at me to stop and saying that he wanted to talk to me. I just kept walking thinking, “No big deal, he’s probably just some boozer”. A cab pulled up to me and stopped and asked if the guy walking was my boyfriend.
I told the cabbie that I have never seen that man before. His response chilled me to the bone. The cabbie told me to get in the car because that guy paid him $50 to go around to block and stop me. The cabby did so because he thought that maybe we were a couple having a fight.
I got in the cab and we had to turn around and drive past this guy to head toward my house. The guy started freaking out when the cabbie didn’t stop for him. That night I’m pretty sure that the cabbie saved my life or, if not that, then he saved me from many years of distress and therapy.
Also, let me just add that I no longer walk down long deserted roads at night anymore.
I was in Philly when the Eagles won the Super Bowl. I had to work the day of the parade and my place of employment was on the other side of Broad Street. When I was about a block away from work, the streets became impossibly crowded, no matter which way I tried.
Everyone was keyed up, climbing lamp posts and newspaper stands. To make matters worse, I saw that Broad Street was blocked off. I started to panic. Things were getting chaotic and my overriding thought was “This is how people get crushed in crowds”.
In desperation, I found a subway entrance, went down, jumped a barrier, and made my way out. How people stood there all day I will never know. That said, I’ll never forget the sound of an entire city cheering on the night they won.
I was out at a bar with my friend and her boyfriend. They had been fighting all day and continued to fight while we were at the bar. When I went to the bathroom, it hit me how much I absolutely did not want to be around them or at a bar for one moment longer. They had given me a ride, but I knew they wouldn’t want to take me home right then.
I was also worried that my friend would somehow manipulate me into sticking around, so I just left the bar right after using the bathroom and walked the four miles (six kilometers) home—late at night in my dress and heels. It was not the best idea in hindsight, but my brain had shut down in that environment and all I could think of was escape.
My friend, who also happened to be my roommate, was pretty upset with me for ditching them, but this was one of many, many moments over the course of several years of knowing her that I realized she was neither a good friend nor a good person.
I went on my first solo trip to Madrid and while I was there I found out my boyfriend had been cheating on me. I was pretty down because that morning I discovered proof of what my ex did and from then on I kept drinking. I decided to walk around on my own until I found a bar that caught my attention.
Side note: I’m Hispanic, so I’m really good at holding my drinks.
When I finally decided to sit down, a dude came along and asked if he can sit. I agreed since I was a few drinks in already. At first, we had a somewhat pleasant conversation but then he started trying to touch my face and telling me that it was too late at night to go home by myself. He then suggested I stay in his hotel room.
He wasn’t being super aggressive with me but it still felt like the most appalling idea ever. My gut instincts kicked in and I scheduled an Uber. In the comments to the driver I wrote, “I feel unsafe, please help”. When I tried to leave the bar, this dude was blocking the way so I couldn’t get out. He refused to move when I asked.
After the longest 10 minutes of my life, a six-foot-three Irish man, aka my Uber driver, walked in and asked for me by name. I’ve never stood up faster in my life. Once I was inside his car, I broke down and started crying about everything that had happened that day.
The whole time, this man sat in silence holding my hand, waiting for me to stop crying. I’ve never forgotten about that driver.
One night last summer, I was staying at home with my parents, and I borrowed my mother’s car to buy a coffee at Starbucks. I made this trip around the same time every night for a few weeks. It was very late, and I noticed a couple of cruisers on a stakeout a few miles from my apartment.
On the way home, a car with unique headlights began driving behind me on the otherwise deserted roads. The car repeatedly flashed its headlights at me and was following me so closely through a few turns that I had to accelerate to prevent it from hitting me. I suddenly had an ominous feeling, unlike anything I’d ever had before.
Something inside me said, “Do not park this car. Do not get out. Just get away. Right now”. I began watching the car closely in the rearview mirror, afraid of being struck. When I turned into the apartment complex, the car abruptly turned in after me without a turn signal, as if it was a spontaneous decision.
There was a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I began circling the small parking lot and they circled it as well. Finally, after several minutes of circling, they parked the car in a peculiar space—one that wasn’t close to any of the buildings—and just sat there with the engine running. Waiting.
The voice inside me was now saying, “Leave! Leave!” So I left. I drove a few miles down the road before returning to the complex. I found the parking space empty and the car was gone. I circled one last time and it was nowhere in the lot. They didn’t live there.
I finally got out of the car, thinking I was safe, and began walking to our family apartment. Movement caught my eye, and I noticed a man dressed head to toe in black with his hood over his head hiding among the trees across from our building.
The man was watching the stairwell to see who came and went from the apartments. When he noticed me climbing the stairs, he started speed-walking toward me. I sprinted up the rest of the stairs and right to our door.
My parents thought I was overreacting, but within two weeks, there was a series of home invasions in the complex. Management even sent us a long email telling us to not go out after dark, to make sure we have our keys at the ready when we exit our cars, to lock our doors, and to keep the blinds drawn.
These crooks had apparently been staking out our complex for a while and I could have been the first intended victim.
Years ago, during my high-school years, I went to go meet my girlfriend’s parents for the first time. They were overly Christian and very tight-knit. I sat down at the table and her father looked at me, a 16-year-old, and asked without any real meaningful discussion leading to the point, “So when are you going to marry my daughter?"
Things ended rather swiftly after that. Sixteen-year-old me wasn’t, in any way, ready to board that cruise. I was out.
Years ago, I took my dog to a well-populated but heavily forested dog park adjacent to a homeless encampment at lunch one day. There were tons of other people there when we arrived, and I owed my mom a phone call, so I called her while my pup ran around. All of a sudden, I noticed that everyone else had left and I was alone.
Just then, I saw a man in snow pants, a heavy parka, and a knit face mask walking toward me. This was during a period of particularly warm weather in May, so alarm bells immediately started going off in my head. Then I realized that he wasn’t just walking quickly in my direction, but had his eyes locked on me and was walking AT ME.
I called my dog and ran faster than I knew I could so that I could get the heck out of there and back to my car. Once I started running, I could hear the wooshing noise from his pants speed up, and get closer, so I knew he was chasing me. This seriously felt exactly like a scene from a horror movie.
As soon as I got me and the dog in the car, I locked the doors and called the authorities. I kept expecting him to emerge from the path at any moment, but he never did. Since no wrongdoing actually occurred, the dispatcher said that they couldn’t do anything. I never went back to that dog park alone again.
The next time I did go back, over a year later, there was a sign on the bulletin board warning people about a string of attacks that had happened there.
This happened when I was about 10 years old. We had basketball practice at school and afterward we were waiting for our parents to pick us up. One of the kids decided to throw a rock at a light bulb and missed but shattered a window. I took off running and didn’t stop until I got to my house.
The next day, when I got to school there were about 20 busted windows. I saw the principal standing there looking at the damage, so I walked up and told her who did it. Now, this was a school on an army base in Japan in the mid-1970s and, of course, the kids who did it were all officers’ kids. Guess whose dad wasn’t an officer?
Yeah, they tried to pin the whole thing on me, but my dad and the kids who actually did it kept saying that I had nothing to do with it.
When I was 21, I drove to visit a friend who lived in a city that was five hours away from my hometown. I probably shouldn’t have gone as I was in a really bad state mentally, and over the weekend it only got worse. As I was driving back home alone in my car, I suddenly started sobbing heavily and my thoughts were becoming progressively darker.
I started driving faster and faster. It was like I couldn’t bring my foot off the gas pedal. I wanted to end it all there and then. I wanted to just stop existing. In the back of my mind, I knew something was really wrong, though, and I felt that “I really need to get out of here ASAP” feeling. I decided to call my mom.
I asked if I could talk to her for a couple of minutes, just to hear her voice. I was hoping it would calm me down. I could tell she was in the middle of something, but from the sound of my voice, she knew it was important. I told her where I was and that I was feeling so worthless and that it was all too much.
She stayed calm and guided me to the next gas station over the phone. She then told me to stay there and wait for her as she made the one-hour drive to get to me. When she got there, I broke down in her arms and she told me that it would be OK. She took me home and made me tea and let me sleep in her bed.
I think I slept for 12 hours straight, I was so exhausted. To this day I think she saved me that night. I’m OK now. Love you, mom.
I was hanging out with my friend from high school and he asked if I wanted to go to his other friend’s place for a bit and play some old N64 games and get high. Heck yeah! When we got there, the place looked like a crack den and the dude’s girlfriend was absolutely knocked out on the couch from what he said was ketamine.
Then they left together to go buy some smack. So this dude left some random stranger (me) alone in his apartment with his unconscious girlfriend. As soon as I saw them disappear around the corner, I got out of there and drove home. I want nothing to do with those kinds of people.
About 80% of my high school friends are in that same position and it’s really sad.
My kidneys failed. Thankfully, they healed up. A few months later, I got some funny-looking lab results. I said to my friend, “I think my kidneys are failing again!" She sighed loudly, and said, “AND? What’s that to ME?" I was shocked.
After all, she’d just been complaining to me about her stupid, lazy co-workers for the past half hour. That was the last time I talked to her.
When I was 16, I was invited to hang out with an older guy I had a crush on. I was young for a senior in high school and he was a holdback, so he was 18. He picked me up at midnight and had three other guys in the car. We went to his buddy’s place for a “party” that I wasn’t aware of. I thought I’d just be hanging out with him alone at his place.
We walked in and he was holding me like I was his date so I was flattered, but there was also a huge pit in my stomach that I was trying hard to ignore. This was the first time we were hanging out, so I didn’t know what to expect. I also didn’t have any experience with dating. He offered me a drink and when I declined, he teased me for it.
He then asked if we could hang out in his bedroom, which we did. We started making out and things got pretty hot and heavy. When it seemed like we were about to go all the way, his buddy from the car knocked on the door and barged in. I covered myself up immediately. His friend then asked if he could join in.
I was shocked and didn’t know what to say. It was absolutely not what I wanted or was expecting. I was so scared of what would happen next that I abruptly excused myself to the bathroom to quickly freshen up. I subtly grabbed my clothes and was so relieved to see that the bathroom had a window.
I slipped out of it and ran home, which was about 20 minutes away on foot, thank goodness. It was 4:00 am when I got home, and I was shaking in terror. I snuck out, so I had to sneak back in. That was the last time I ever snuck out of my house.
My mom and I were sitting next to a huge floor-to-ceiling window in the food court when the drizzle of rain suddenly turned into a heavy downpour. The wind picked up and went from next to nothing to howling and hail started falling. I grabbed my stuff and tugged on my mom, shouting, “We need to move!" I’m so glad we did.
Maybe five minutes later, a huge chunk of a tree hit the window. It cracked pretty badly but it didn’t shatter. I’m 100% sure it was tempered glass but still. That was definitely not the place to be.
I’m a big fan of cycling at night. In 2020, I was taking a shortcut through a forest on the outskirts of my city. Unfortunately, the battery for my lights was drained and I only had 2% on my phone because I got too enthusiastic trying to set a new distance record. It was too dark and rocky, so I had to get off my bicycle.
After a few minutes of walking in complete darkness with no signs of anyone nearby, I saw a group of people wearing dark capes sitting around a bonfire (setting up fire in the forest isn't allowed). At the same time, I heard cracking branches and leaves moving toward me.
I immediately did a 180 and started cycling through the darkness. The next thing I remember is cycling at breakneck speed toward the city lights with only a vague route in my mind. I think that was the most adrenaline-filled moment of my life. I have no idea what those people were doing and I don’t want to know.
Needless to say, I have never cycled through the forest at nighttime since then.
It was closing time at the bar when I met a seemingly decent couple who invited me to hang out at their apartment with a couple of their friends.
Having recently endured a devastating breakup, I felt like this would give me some much-needed companionship and it was better than hanging out alone at my house. I said, “Sure”.
At first, it seemed like a decent little party. Then I started to feel some mild tension from the couple and I noticed that the guy would flip-flop between acting childish and upset. Then, as I was sitting on the porch with the girl and a friend of hers, the guy came out of his room, brandishing a piece.
I immediately stood up and placed myself in front of the two people standing outside. The guy started walking toward his girl, who was behind me now, and then he pointed the thing at his own head. Just as he did this, one of his friends noticed what was happening and got in front of him and tried to take the piece out of his hand.
The armed guy stepped back and started laughing. “Got you good, though. It’s not even loaded”. He then proceeded to nonchalantly wave it around. His girl stepped out from behind me and started crying and chewing into him because it was 100% not funny.
His friend was trying to gingerly grab the firearm, and I was realizing it would probably be best if I got the heck out of there.
I hate this story. I was on the island of Ko Lan in Thailand with my girlfriend and her friend, circa 2009. We were having a great time relaxing on the beach and driving all over this very small Thai island. Now, I will preface this story by stating that I am not a fighter. I never was before this and I never have been since.
We spent all day at the beach and then around 2:00 pm we decided to start drinking. I was drinking “buckets” where they literally give you a children’s beach pail and fill it with cheap booze and Coca-Cola. I don’t remember how many I had but it was a lot.
My memory becomes fuzzy after this, but I do remember seeing another tourist talk to my girlfriend at a bar late at night. I then remember throwing a punch, getting hit, and both of us falling over onto a bunch of parked mopeds. The fight was broken up by some locals who invited us to go drink at another bar—great idea!
Fast forward to my next memory…I was in another fight with multiple people, and to put it lightly, I got completely wrecked. I will take full responsibility for this fight as well because it seems that I was the common denominator, but ultimately I have no idea how it happened.
We made it back to our room and went to bed. I woke up the next morning at 7:00 am with a bloody nose and cuts and bruises all over me. I woke both girls and said, “We have to get off this island!" The need to flee was so overwhelming.
It was a tiny island and I didn’t know how many people on it hated me but I didn’t want to find out. We took the ferry back to the mainland, got on a bus, and actually left the country that day by crossing the border into Laos. The trip took about 14 very sore and hungover hours total with transfers and standbys.
I was in college and a weird but hot girl invited me back to her room after class. That's when I realized she was more weird than hot. She immediately busted out a didgeridoo without warning and started jamming on it hard while staring into my soul.
I think she was trying to be alluring, but all it did was really creep me out. I bolted outta there.
When I was around 12, my gymnastics coach introduced us to “Mike," a new coach in training. I always thought that there was something about Mike that didn’t quite feel right. He was eventually paired with my coach for training, so when we would do circuits he would sometimes spot us.
I remember purposely avoiding his station because I didn’t want his hands on me. I told my coach privately that I didn’t like Mike. When I couldn’t really explain why, she encouraged me to give him a try. A few weeks later, we got a letter from the gym stating that Mike would go from gym to gym with fake credentials.
He would take underwear from the girls’ change room. This story was subsequently all over our local news. Apparently, no one from our gym had been assailed but it was pretty scary that he moved from my group to the Tiny Tot group.
Although I always had positive experiences in gymnastics, this incident was certainly a wake-up call about the necessity of listening to and believing youth when they tell you something.
About 10 years ago, I walked into a conversation with my extended family about Sandy Hook. I made a comment like, “Oh, what a horrible tragedy,” and one of them said, “Well, yeah, except that it never happened”. I quickly and quietly backed away from that discussion; no drama, no reaction, I just peace out of there.
I can’t rationalize with crazy.
I had been dealing with late-night nausea and headache in the morning for about three days. At first, I thought it was because I slept too late, but on the fourth day I had shortness of breath and my room felt hot. I knew my AC wasn’t as cooling as it had been but now it was spewing warm air. I turned it off and slept in the living room with a fan instead.
The next day I called the AC guy to check on it. It turns out I had a freon leak. My symptoms were in fact from inhaling the dangerous refrigerant. I wish I had gotten out of there sooner, but at least I’m glad that I got out and put on a fan when I did.
When I was in my early teens, my fam went to King’s Island Amusement Park in Ohio. We went there to ride on The Son of Beast—the world’s largest wooden roller coaster at the time. Just before we went on, my younger brother started SOBBING.
Our dad called him a bunch of demeaning names and teased him about crying, but I couldn’t shake the feeling in my stomach either. As we got on the ride, I couldn’t help but feel that something was definitely off. Everything started smoothly—but then it went SO wrong.
The next car malfunctioned and four people broke their ribs while others had head and neck injuries. Now I always, always trust my brother. The dude has also survived car accidents that should have been lethal. He’s definitely here for a reason.
I knew it was time to go when my boyfriend, who is now my ex, got jealous of me cuddling my cat. Yes, you read that right. Another time he ran up to me in public because I was sipping a drink through a straw. He grabbed the straw and threw it away because it was too suggestive and other men shouldn’t see me doing that.
I had been working at a small Silicon Valley semiconductor startup for a couple of years when they brought in a new VP of design engineering. In my first meeting with him, I realized that he didn’t understand one of the most basic, common circuits used in integrated circuit design. That’s when I knew that it was time to move on.
I still can’t figure out how he got the job.
I and three other coworkers made a complaint that got the entire middle management team at my old workplace fired for gross misconduct. Afterward, I went out for a drink with some colleagues, including two of the other three in the group, and the people we got fired were there drinking on the patio and had been all day.
The others in my group wanted to stay and drink inside, but I booked it out of there and immediately went home. Glad I did, too, because a fight kicked off about two minutes after I left.
I was having drinks at a Turkish bar in Germany. It was really friendly at first and then as the evening progressed, the vibes changed. Some of the men started looking at me and joking with each other in Turkish. I was surrounded and it was clear that things were going to devolve into something bad. I had to come up with a plan…
I started crying and when they asked what was wrong, I told them I felt unwell because I just got my period. That news prompted several looks of disgust and utter contempt. I headed to the bathroom at the back and then slipped out the rear exit, but before I did I noticed that the door had an unusually large number of locks on it.
I went out the back and breathed a huge sigh of relief once I was on the tram and the doors closed behind me. A week or so later I saw that place on the news. Apparently, it was a trafficking den and they were abducting women and selling them into slavery in Eastern Europe.
This happened while I was high and searching for snacks at my local convenience store. As I approached the cash, I overheard two guys saying something about being quick and then I heard one guy say, “Let me do the talking”. I got a bad feeling and decided it might be a good idea to find some snacks at another store.
Sure enough, that store was robbed a few minutes after I left.
I was leaving a friend’s apartment at about 2:00 am and I was halfway down the hallway when a guy turned the corner behind me, way back. His hands were in his pockets and his hat and jacket were pulled up over his face. It absolutely didn’t feel right. I started walking faster and then he started walking faster. I turned to look at him.
He froze for a second and then started running at me. I sprinted down the hall, busted out of the gate, got in my car and as I locked it, he came right up to my window and stared at me. It was chilling. Just then a car turned the corner and shone its headlights on us. As he turned to look at the car, I speed off.
I live in an area with many Hindus and people who speak Hindi. Also, I live in a very shady part of town. I look very white but I also speak Hindi. I was walking down the street at around 8:00 pm when I heard two guys saying something in Hindi along the lines of “You cover his mouth and I’ll pick him up”. Then they started moving toward me.
I bolted toward a heavily populated and well-lit street but they were right behind me. When I got to a plaza, they gave up and I headed home. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t speak Hindi.
In my early 20s, I got my license to teach golf. There was a husband and wife who would often frequent the course I worked at. As I was giving the man some lessons, he suggested we go over to his house to instruct his wife. He said he was super pumped about the practice net they’d set up in the backyard.
When I got there, I got a very strong feeling that she wanted the lessons to be non-golf-related. I politely told them I’d be happy to do lessons but only at the golf course. I later found out they were into swinging—and I’m not talking golf clubs. I’m so glad I got out of their home and didn’t go back.
I was stung by a yellow jacket and because I’d had a severe allergic reaction to the sting, I was given hydrocortisone orally. I was feeling a lot of anxiety from it. I worked with a team of very nice people. We were in a non-stressful meeting when I had this urge to go on a rampage (aka ’roid rage).
I told my boss that I had to leave and got up, walked out, and went home. I’ve never felt that way, ever. I emailed him later to explain. No problem.
This happened at my first college apartment. My roommates called me into their room and proceeded to cry and yell at me for an hour about how horrible I was being to them. What did I do that was so bad? I asked them to clean a pan filled with food that had been left out on the stove for three days already.
I walked into a bar in rural Wisconsin and all eyes turned to me. Every conversation stopped. I slowly made my way to the bar, sat down, drank my drink, and left. I didn’t run out in fear or discomfort because I’m not going to run away right away! Plus I was thirsty!
I was dating this guy who was so nice at the beginning of the relationship. One day, we got into a fight, which wasn’t unusual, but this particular time he provoked me into an autism meltdown and filmed it and put it on Facebook. He was almost charged with defamation of character. So I decided I was gonna break up with him the next day…
When I told him I was leaving, which was really stupid of me, his reaction was brutal. He broke a plate over my head, put his hands around my neck, and then threw me over a table.
I showed up to a Halloween party somewhat inebriated and very scantily clad (as one does at Halloween) and my boss’s entire friend group was there. I discovered this horrific fact while making small talk with one of them. As tipsy as I was, I knew it would be best if I got out of there quickly.
My friends had a friend in high school we called “The Dad”. If his Spidey senses ever started tingling, for example, if he felt uncomfortable at a party and wanted to leave, we would always follow. He had the best instincts and many a time he saved us from getting caught by authorities, random fights, and various other types of foul drama.
At pretty much any social event I attend, I have what you could call a fast-draining social battery. Once that thing hits 0 (and sometimes before), my dominant thought is, “I need to get out of here ASAP”.
I woke up to my (now) ex pouring lighter fluid on me as I slept. I left that day and filed for divorce a week later.
I picked up a hitchhiker in San Pedro. He was wearing a foreign sailor’s jacket and when he got in the car, he was talking crazy about being a priestess and things like that. He said he lived in Marina del Rey, so I took him to where he said he lived, which was a condo in a yacht basin.
I realized he was crazy and was worried about him, but I didn’t know what to do. I went to the door with him and could see through the window that there were deep cobwebs inside. Suddenly, he started screaming that there was somebody in there. That was my cue to leave.
I ran like crazy, jumped in my car, and drove off. I must have looked very shook because the authorities came by and asked if I knew about him. Turns out he was a surgeon who had had a nervous breakdown.
During university, I was looking for a place to live and some roommates since I was always on the verge of being beyond broke. I found an ad (this was back in the olden times before Craigslist) for a bedroom for rent in a big old heritage house (one that used to be a mansion a few decades ago). My dad, for no particular reason, came along with me.
We looked at the room, the layout, and the condition of the rest of the rooms. We got a sense of the folks who already lived there (one guy and two girls). The girls were friendly and fun but the guy…I was so creeped out. From the way he spoke to his mannerisms, something just wasn’t right.
My dad sensed it too and noped us out of there after about five minutes. I ended up finding a gorgeous apartment that fit my budget and was in a better part of town.
Three months later, a young woman who was a nurse at the hospital one block away from me, was nailed in the back of the head at the bus stop on my corner. When I saw a photo of the perpetrator, my blood ran cold. I couldn’t believe my eyes…
It turns out that the creepy dude who was renting the first room I went to look at was stalking this nurse for months before ambushing her and slaying her. That guy was your classic incel before there was even a name for incels. I can’t say how glad I am that we trusted my dad’s gut.
It was the summer of 1997 and I was camping in a big Winnebago with my mom, dad, and sister. My sister and I shared the collapsible kitchen table bed at the front of the camper and my mom and dad were on the collapsible couch at the back. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my mom screaming at my dad. I can’t even remember what she was so upset about.
I just laid there and listened to the chaos happening at the other end of the camper. Instead of arguing back, my dad was just deflecting the verbal vitriol—unsuccessfully. He then must have decided the best recourse was to lay down in the middle of the camper floor with a pillow and blanket and stonewall my angry mother.
I guess my mom wasn’t thrilled about his lack of reaction, so she poured some water from a gallon jug into a cup and threw it on my dad. My dad didn’t like this at all and he reacted by jumping up, popping the cap off the same gallon jug, and dumping the entire thing on my mom. It was like they were in a race to be the most awful parent.
That’s when my mom decided to go for the gold by grabbing the wooden Holy Bible box that, instead of housing a Holy Bible, housed a magnum and six rounds. As she was frantically trying to load it, my dad tackled her onto their bed and they start wrestling for it. I must’ve bolted out the door instinctively...
My next conscious memory was of me running into the street of the campground and yelling at the top of my lungs, “HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!" at roughly 2:30 am. My dad ran out and got me before I woke anyone else up (or before anyone else cared enough to investigate). He told me he wrestled the piece away from her and that everything would be OK.
My dad and I slept in the car with the doors locked for the remainder of the night. I was 11 years old at the time. How on earth am I even halfway normal?
It’s true what they say: money makes the world go round. In order to succeed in this life, you need to have a good grasp of key financial concepts. That’s where Moneymade comes in. Our mission is to provide you with the best financial advice and information to help you navigate this ever-changing world. Sometimes, generating wealth just requires common sense. Don’t max out your credit card if you can’t afford the interest payments. Don’t overspend on Christmas shopping. When ordering gifts on Amazon, make sure you factor in taxes and shipping costs. If you need a new car, consider a model that’s easy to repair instead of an expensive BMW or Mercedes. Sometimes you dream vacation to Hawaii or the Bahamas just isn’t in the budget, but there may be more affordable all-inclusive hotels if you know where to look.
Looking for a new home? Make sure you get a mortgage rate that works for you. That means understanding the difference between fixed and variable interest rates. Whether you’re looking to learn how to make money, save money, or invest your money, our well-researched and insightful content will set you on the path to financial success. Passionate about mortgage rates, real estate, investing, saving, or anything money-related? Looking to learn how to generate wealth? Improve your life today with Moneymade. If you have any feedback for the MoneyMade team, please reach out to [email protected]. Thanks for your help!
The Moneymade team
If you like humaverse you may also consider subscribing to these newsletters: