People are curious, and few things satisfy that curiosity more than a trip to someone else’s home. But some things can never be unseen, some people can never be un-met, and some homes are just best left unvisited. Whether it’s a particularly scarring childhood sleepover, a delivery person’s worst nightmare, or that one baffling visit to grandma, these Redditors’ stories may turn you off house calls for the rest of your life.
Their cats’ ashes in urns. But not just any urns, and not just any place. All of the cats had Egyptian names, so their urns were designed to match the Egyptian God they were named after, and they were all lined up on a ledge in their screened-in porch, right by the front entrance. There were a good five or six urns, front and center, when you entered the house.
Spent the night at grandma's house when I was probably 11 or 12. I got sick in the middle of the night and was throwing up in the bathroom. Then I saw grandma in her flannel nightgown run by with her .38 Beretta. Apparently I sounded like a bear.
Not me, but my parents told me this one. When they were first house shopping, they ended up checking out this really nice house in the city. Real estate agent is showing them around the place and they get to a little side room. The agent is showing them around, and my mom happens to glance into the adjacent living room.
Right above the fireplace was a massive portrait of Adolf Hitler. The real estate agent was just like "oh yeah, that," and said it belonged to the previous owner. They didn't elaborate further.
I was at my aunt’s house and she was a practicing Hindu, so she had a little area with diyas, pictures, and writings, and every now and again the deya would become unlit. So she would give me a candle and I would walk into the area and light it. Right by the deya, there was a statue with a lot of arms.
While I was lighting it, out of the corner of my eye I saw the hands, as clear as day, change position. It went right from the top of its shoulder to its lap. I never walked so fast in my life to get out of there.
A meth lab. At the mall before Christmas about 10 years ago when I was 19. I ran into a quasi-friend from high school who I ran cross country with. He asked what’s up and if I wanted to go back and play some video games. We get to his place: dirty, nothing crazy for 19, but I have a super weird feeling. We play video games and drink beer for 30-45 minutes until I need to go to the bathroom.
He tells me the washroom is down the hall, but I guess I opened the wrong door because instead of the bathroom, I found a meth lab. I was shocked, to say the least, and got the heck out of dodge. I found out recently that he was hit and killed by a truck while on his bike going to work less than two weeks after that.
I was about 14 and staying over at a buddy's house one night. Their house wasn’t big so much as it was tall. Each level was maybe 900 square feet, but it was three stories tall. The bottom floor had a small bath and a living room with direct access to a kitchen. The second floor had two bedrooms and a bathroom, and the third floor had another bedroom and half bath.
Anyway, we were playing video games in his living room (attached to the stairs) when I suddenly smelled smoke. Almost like a campfire. I got up and walked around his living room a bit, and the smell grew stronger by the staircase. When I looked up, I saw a small tuft of grey haze working its way up the stairs and told him.
He yells, "YAAY THE GHOST IS BACK!" and runs to catch up to it. We ran up the stairs, following it, until it went into his bedroom on the second floor and just dissipated. It was the strangest thing I had been exposed to at that age. But around the same time every year, the same haze and smell will reappear, staying in the kitchen, go up the stairs, and "die" in his bedroom. I witnessed it about two more times
A dead old lady...here in Romania, the dead are taken home and kept for three days on a table, while the relatives come to pay their respects and kiss and hug the dead body.
My new boyfriend and I went to take care of some pets at a friend's place. When we arrived, the place was trashed, like a tornado had gone through. Playing cards scattered everywhere, wrappers, receipts, small toys, etc. After we fed the cats, we explored the rest of the house. In the kitchen there were three different meals in various stages of preparation just left on the stove and counters.
All the dishes were scattered, some with portions of pasta on them (incredibly the cats hadn't eaten it). We go to feed their chinchillas in the guest bath, and when we open the door every surface in the bathroom was covered in chinchilla poop (imagine little pellets, not wet poop). The guy was military and had just gone out of town with his family for training. We couldn't understand why he would leave his place like that.
At my grandma's house growing up, my cousins and I thought it would be funny to leave a single dorito on a dresser upstairs because my grandma couldn't go upstairs and only used it for guests. That dorito sat there for five years amongst these porcelain knick knacks. We never disturbed it and always laughed about it. I think the most disturbing part was that it never went bad or brought in pests.
I had a friend back in high school whose family owned lots of guns (rifles, shotguns, pistols) and had them lying all over the house along with live ammunition. I’m talking like a borderline hoarder house where the place was crazy cluttered, but interspersed with the regular household items were numerous weapons leaning against various walls or on shelves, and live ammunition looking like it was just swept toward the walls after having been dropped or dumped out. I recall his dad saying something to the effect of, “just be careful not to start a fire, cause this place will go up.”
My friend lived in a really big, really nice house with a couple of siblings, and they always had a bunch of pets at a time. We were playing outside one day, and I noticed there was a 10-gallon tank on the table, with their deceased pet mouse in it. They also had their dead turtle in a plastic bag just casually by their back door.
These things were there for months if I recall correctly, and I remember one time her brother was trying to be funny, I guess, and he started violently smashing the turtle corpse with a shovel. I have no idea why they would just stick their dead pets outside and then leave them there, especially with so many kids around.
My Filipino friend has this thing on his mantel. It's a chilli pepper with a face that has nunchucks, which are themselves made out of two small chilli peppers. I ask him what the heck is going on, but he just chuckles and tells me not to worry.
The weirdest story I have was when I was visiting an old high school friend a few years ago. She had married this big jerk and had two daughters back-to-back. When you walked into their trailer, it looked like they had this enormous flat screen TV that almost took up the whole living room wall.
But when you walked down the hallway past the little girls' room, the back of the TV was sticking out into the girls' bedroom. It was one of those old, old obsolete TVs, and they had cut a hole in the wall to make it look like a flat screen. There was only enough room for both of their baby beds on either side of the back of the TV. I'll never forget that. Who does that?
My wife and I were touring a home we were considering buying. Old, vacant awhile, fixer upper, but LOTS of potential. Couldn’t get around a smell that followed us through the house, though. Got upstairs and the smell was worse. Opened up a bedroom door, and there were strategically placed human turd piles all over the floor, filling the room. Driest and oldest in the far corner. Relatively fresh closer to the door. We did not buy the house.
I was a delivery driver and went on a delivery to a house pretty far out into the country. The woman who answered the door was probably mid-40s, and she only had lingerie on. She asked me to come inside since she forgot her wallet and it was cold outside, then talked about how “her husband usually pays but he’s not here.”
Oh, and I forgot to mention, as soon as I stepped inside, my eyes were assaulted with the mounted heads of every game animal I could think of. Not one space was left on their walls. And directly to the right of the door was a full taxidermied mountain lion. I noped the heck out of there as soon as I got the cash.
When I was in high school, my mom came home from a garage sale with a coffin. It was a wooden antique from England, and it was from the 19th century. It had screw holes in the top, which lifted all the way off. The couple who sold it to her were getting rid of it because they disagreed about what purpose it should serve.
The wife wanted to keep using it as a coffee table with blanket storage and the husband wanted to turn it into a gun rack. My mom thought it was great as a coffee table, so my siblings and I spent the next few years asking our friends, “Would you like a blanket from the coffin?” while we watched TV. So yeah, high school was fun.
I cat-sat for my neighbor once. Some kitty's medication was kept cold. When I opened the fridge to grab it, I noticed tub after tub of jello. Everything in the fridge was jello. Like 40 tubs of it. Nothing else besides the medicine.
I work in a job where sometimes I have to go deploy equipment in people's homes. I was doing a project where I had to set up some stuff in the kitchen of a very nice vacation rental, which was unoccupied due to the fact that this was February in northern Michigan. The whole thing was decked out to the nines in cutesy, wealthy Grandma-type decor, except for the kitchen.
The only artwork in there was a painting of three fish with photorealistic genitals and testicles instead of tails, hanging above the stove so that it was the first thing you saw when you walked in. I have never been so disappointed that our project instructions forbade the photographing of property owners' belongings.
Ohhhh boy OK. This happened a couple years ago. Hopefully I can remember all the details. So, my mom and I stopped at what was advertised as a garage sale in my neighborhood. They had a bunch of kids' stuff in the front yard, and we were looking for stuff for my son, so we decided to check it out, but when we got close it was all in really bad shape.
No big deal, we think, let’s go inside. As we are walking in, we're greeted by a person we assume to be the owner of the house. He’s wearing black pants and a tiny leather vest with no shirt underneath. I see this now for the red flag that it was. He welcomes us and tells us everything in the house is for sale. Everything. Look anywhere you want, he says.
Open all the drawers. Look in all the closets. OK cool. He definitely DOESN’T say anything about there being anything weird in the house. First things first, the house is kind of trashed, but it still looks relatively normal. The only obviously weird thing is that they have a giant TV playing a crazy-looking horror movie. Super scary and gory.
He says the TV is for sale too, so maybe they’re just playing whatever is on to show it works. We look around and don’t find anything good and decide to go upstairs. Once upstairs, we proceed into the first bedroom. Looks pretty normal. Kind of small and furnished for a kid. Nothing we want? OK, move on.
The next bedroom looks like someone is sleeping in the bed. Oops—sorry! But no, it is a full-sized human horror prop of a very realistic zombie woman, and oh god, in the corner is a very realistic prop of half a human crawling across the floor. These things looked so real, guys. We’re like, “Man, these people are serious about Halloween.”
We go to the next room, and it is set up like a full-on dungeon with torture equipment and fake humans and piles of Barbie heads for some reason. We are seriously freaked out, and decide to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. As we’re walking out of the dungeon room, a woman comes out of the other creepy room. We look at each other, wide eyed and silent, and all proceed out the front door to separately process our trauma.
My aunt has a framed photo of Meryl Streep in her computer room. I was very perplexed, and asked my cousin if she noticed the rogue Meryl and she casually said, “oh yeah, I told mom that her and Meryl Streep looked alike, and then I guess she printed that out!” You go, Aunt Yvonne.
First week freshman year, my new roommate and default best friend tells me we're going to a board game night somewhere. I figure "screw it, I've got no new friends yet, maybe this is the way to do it." So we go, and it ends up being at some sort of church house, but that's fine I guess. We play some train board game and have an alright time with some people who only seem a little weird, but not enough to really throw me off.
So the game wraps up, and me and my roommate are about to go home when the pastor says "Wait! You haven't seen the bathroom yet! You've gotta see it, everyone sees my bathroom!" Okay...So we open the door and walk into this little bathroom where every single square inch of the walls, sink, toilet, ceiling, and floor are covered in Elvis memorabilia.
Posters, tickets, photos, albums, lyric sheets, everything you can imagine. And mounted above the toilet is a creepy, mostly realistic Elvis animatronic singing head. Needless to say, this was discomfort I had never felt before. It was beyond being a fan or obsessive or any of that. It was really frightening.
So we turn around to him holding a guest book for us to sign. Obviously, I made up an email and phone number so he wouldn't email me or call me, and then my roommate, a devout Catholic, tells him he appreciates it but he's Jewish and he just wanted to come with me while I checked out their small group. That was a weird night.
This family photoshopped themselves into pictures of them on vacation in like boats and stuff and put them in picture frames. The biggest one was them photoshopped into a photo with Obama that they ironed on to the wall—it was probably 5x5 feet. To make it stranger, my friend was house-sitting for them, and they turned off the power, including the AC. So we were sitting in an affluent DC suburb, in the dark, and in 90 degree summer heat surrounded by their photoshopped reality.
A few years back, my friend would often house-sit for this family at her church. She always asked me to stay with her there because she didn't like the house, as the home had something like 350 clowns in it. We always slept in the living room because all of the bedrooms had giant clown figurines. It was awful.
They had pet piranhas and I was sleeping over there. One of the piranhas literally jumped out of the tank and started flopping on the ground. I thought that piranhas were some kind of death machine animal at the time, so I started freaking out. Eventually, they got it back in the tank. But yeah, I didn’t get much sleep that night.
I was about 10 and staying with a friend. We were completely asleep when her mom and dad came in and woke us up and calmly said we were all going outside now. It was summer, so it wasn’t too cold or anything. We all went outside (her three older teenage siblings and her parents and the two of us), but it was the middle of the night, so it was extremely strange.
Then the bomb squad showed up. Turns out, there was a grenade with the pin still in it from WWII in their garage—my friend’s dad would stay up super late cleaning and organizing his late father’s belongings, and he came across it that night. My parents ended up coming to pick me up a short time later, and the bomb squad took the grenade, I believe.
I've talked about this before, but still it was super weird. I was out late with some coworkers at the apartment of one of our bosses after a team outing with a lot of drinking. It was me, two coworkers who were about the same age as me, another coworker who was several years older than us, and our boss, who was probably in her late 40s.
We were all hanging out on the balcony out back when some of my boss's neighbors told us all to come over. Our boss told us to go and meet these guys because they were awesome, so we went. When we got there, they introduced themselves and gave us all a drink, even though we all already one in our hands.
Then they gave us a tour of the apartment, which was pretty normal, until they got to their bedroom. They point to the wall across from the bed and say, "And this is our leather wall..." The two coworkers who were around my age and I all exchanged baffled looks. It was literally a giant piece of plywood that had been upholstered and put up on a wall. I don't know if it was just a weird decoration or a bedroom thing, but they were really proud of it.
It's technically my girlfriend and my home now, but we used to live with my mother-in-law. One day we got home from work and she had taken the clock down and replaced it with a GIANT sticker of a reptile's eye, as if it had cracked through the wall and was staring at you. It was completely crazy, and I'd expect no less of her. A couple times a week, I still glance up to check the time and it's staring down at me.
Not my experience, but pretty sure multiple people had this weird experience at my grandma's house. My grandma was super into collecting dolls. She had a huge collection that consisted of what looked like nice expensive porcelain dolls, as well as just average looking baby dolls. She ended up using my mom’ s old room as a "doll room," where she kept all the dolls.
Except instead of just putting them on shelves, she hung them on the walls. Every square inch of that room was covered in creepy-looking dolls. You couldn't even tell what color the walls were. The room was right next to the bathroom, and occasionally a guest would accidentally go into it, thinking it was the bathroom. I grew up with it, so I just thought it was normal, but guests would always get super creeped out.
I used to deliver furniture to some very rich and occasionally eccentric people. I delivered a sofa to one older gentleman who lived alone. Impeccably well-maintained house with lots of custom touches. Really custom. But most of the appliances and furnishings were really old, and were from like the 60s and 70s.
Most notably, he couldn’t stand listening to his refrigerator kick on and off all night, but he liked his (rather old) refrigerator so much that he couldn’t bear to part with it. So he removed the elements from the back and bottom, ran piping down into the floor via a few small holes, and set up the “working” parts of the fridge on an upright frame in the basement.
When I was a kid, there was a lady in the neighborhood who had her entire home religiously decorated. I'm talking crosses and placards in every room, plus religious-themed light switch covers, rugs, mats, towels, cutting boards, cups, plates, tablecloths, sheets, pillowcases, clocks, shower curtains, just EVERYTHING. It didn't weird me out too much, but it did a lot of others.
One time a girl I knew said she had a skeleton in her closet... I laughed, being drunk, and figured she was talking figuratively and that she was about to tell me a story. Nope, she took me to her closet, and sure enough there was a skeleton hanging in it, staring back at me. Real skeletons look like real darn skeletons, not the stuff you see in classrooms. Discolored bones and weight to the thing.
So...Her grandfather was a doctor, and I gather if you donate your body to science, there is not a lot of paperwork, so if you're not careful you can end up as a joke ornament. Now, I do admire her for her dedication to the joke, but the thought of sleeping in a room with a dead person in your closet still freaks me out.
I used to hang out with this girl at her house when I was 14 or 15 (I am also a girl). One day she came out of her parent's room with something in her mouth. At first I didn't realize what it was but once she sat back down on the couch, I saw that it was a… marital aid toy. In her mouth. And it was turned on...
I kind of flipped out and asked her what the heck she was doing. She said her gums hurt, so she was massaging them. The bad/sad/disgusting/weird thing was that she didn't even know what it was. She found it in her parent's room one day and thought it was for your teeth/gums so she just kept using it regularly.
On top of that, her parents knew she used it for that purpose because they walked in and talked to her while she had it in her mouth. I didn't go back.
I had a family friend growing up, and went over to his house all the time for sleepovers and whatnot when I was around 8-10. Their family was relatively normal outside of a few strange rules, and they liked me and were pretty pleasant. They were VERY Catholic, though, which could be why they were a bit weird to me.
Anyways, there was one thing they did that was very strange. If I was over for dinner, they would always put on a Josh Groban CD and crank it up fairly loud. Then for some reason, at the end of dinner, usually when "You Raise Me Up" came on, everyone was required to quickly drink a relatively large glass of milk.
I didn't really mind doing it, and there wasn't really a fishy ulterior motive (the old "kids need strong bones" idea). But it was just so odd to me that Josh Groban was always a part of it.
When I was 12, my friend asked me over for a sleepover. He lived in a pretty big house in a nice neighborhood, and the family was upper middle class. Anyway, here’s the weird part. They refused to feed me. The dad told me to stay upstairs while they had dinner. I was 12, so of course I didn’t know what to think.
He tried to be normal about it, he said “we’re gonna have dinner, stay up here and I’ll bring you something to drink, what do you want? We have coke, lemonade, (etc).” So I stayed upstairs and drank coke and played Nintendo. My friend didn’t bat an eyelash. Apparently this was a normal thing. Later, when I told him I was hungry, he acted like I was bothering him.
He ended up sneaking into the kitchen and stealing a can of tuna fish and just handed it to me with no can opener. When I asked if he could open it, he said “I don’t know where the can opener is.” Ended up using a butter knife. Next weird part: it was the middle of winter and they didn’t use heat. At all. So it was obviously freezing cold in the house.
I was sleeping on the floor and all I had was a blanket. I remember telling him I couldn’t go to sleep because I was so cold. He ended up waking up his dad, who came in with a pile of blankets and dropped them on the floor next to me and walked back out. I wrapped up in them the best I could, but it was still unbelievably cold.
The next morning, they had breakfast and I was downstairs with them, but there was nowhere for a guest to sit at the table. There were 4 of them and they were having a sit-down family breakfast while I just awkwardly paced around the living room. I would occasionally make eye contact with my friend, and motioned for him to bring me some food, but he ignored me.
I didn’t want to say anything out loud because I thought it was against their “rules” or whatever. The next weird thing: they wouldn’t let me use their phone. I asked the dad if I could use the phone to call my mom to come get me. He picked up the phone and asked me the number. He dialed it and spoke to my mom himself and told her I was ready to be picked up.
I was only 12, but I knew I didn’t want to be that kid’s friend anymore. So I stopped talking to him after that. I remember the car ride home, my mom stopped and got me McDonald’s and I ate so fast. She was not happy about them not feeding me, but we just forgot about it and moved on. To this day I still don’t know what that was all about.
They were a very religious family, but they were Christian, and I usually had the opposite of that experience at other Christian friends' houses. I also thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that they had money and my family was poor and we lived in a “bad” part of town. Maybe they didn’t want my broke germs on their silverware?
One summer, when I was about 13, a friend of mine had a girl from her school who invited us over to go swimming in her pool. We go to her place and are shown to her room to change.
As I'm changing my friend suddenly whispers "What the heck?" I turn around and see a bunch of used sanitary pads lined up on this girls desk. She comes to join us in her room and my friend flat out asks her what the pads are all about.
She says, very plainly, "They're for my dad so he can check that I'm not pregnant."
In college, I rented a very old but huge duplex with six of my best friends. After we moved in, we discovered that while the basement had a concrete slab in the laundry area, most of the basement had an exposed dirt floor instead of foundation. One area of the basement was divided off with sheets and tarps into a few makeshift rooms.
Some of these rooms had furniture or mattresses. The largest “sheet” room in the center of the basement was about 15’x15’. In the center of this room was a pit about four feet in diameter and about 4-5 feet deep, dug into the dirt below the house. In that pit there was a variety of refuse, candles, and a shopping cart.
Stuffed into the cart was a mannequin, its body parts twisted and contorted to fit inside the space of the cart. This became known as the cult room. Also, the house had a third floor, but since there was no fire escape, the landlord had padlocked the door. A few months into our lease, we decided to break into the third floor.
We simply unscrewed all of the lock hardware and opened the door. There were several other bedrooms upstairs. One was painted from floor to ceiling with a psychedelic mural that was a cross between a black light poster and a scene from Heavy Metal. We also found a very nice pair of speakers, a solid lead 4’ long rod, and a full-size rusty scythe. This became known as the second cult room. It was a great house!
Now, my experiences in life might be slightly different than your average person. I worked for a plumbing company in Baldwin Park, CA for a while, and during that time probably visited 250 homes, roughly. So I’ve definitely been in more houses than not. We ran a special ad saying, “We’ll clear any drain for 79.99” so naturally we were very busy!
So , we’re in the van and the tablet dings, which means we have a new service request. We get the address. It’s down by the beach in Laguna Niguel. At this point, I’m already rolling my eyes in the passenger seat because that’s on the far end of our operating zone, it’s only a drain call so no commission really, and rich people are notoriously hard to work for in my industry.
We pull into the gated community and drive up to the house...This house is NICE. I feel like calling it a “house” is a disservice. This is a mansion. I mean white doric columns on each side of the door, lawn manicured perfectly, they even had a freaking fountain. We knock on the front door, and for about four minutes no one answered.
We shrugged and said, “Guess no one's home.” Well, as we were about to walk back to the van, a very short, very old man unlatches the door and greets us. At this point everything seems okay. He’s wearing a country club kind of outfit. White polo, white shorts, loafers, and nice jewelry. But he has snow white hair, liver spots, and a general “oldness” to him.
So we head on in. There are marble floors, big fake plants, a small bronze bust of someone I don’t recognize, all kinds of nice things in the foyer. But it seems like a white room that’s never actually been lived in and is only used for “company,” which I’m guessing they never had. Again, everything seems normal here.
Once we walk further into the home, though, I start noticing the smell. Anyone reading this who has worked in a restaurant, the smell was similar to the drains in the dish pit area. Food and moisture and wet floor smell that’s been sitting for a while. We got to the kitchen where the drain problem was...Dude...The drain in the sink had backed up in their home. Because of that, they had stopped doing dishes for “a while,” which was what the man said.
No, these people stopped doing dishes 90 days ago at least. The two sink basins were STACKED with dirty plates. The counters on either side were STACKED with dirty plates. Their cabinets were empty because they had used all available dishes, and after those were all gone, they used Tupperware containers. Once those were all gone, they bought paper plates and were stuffing those into a garbage bag by the door.
THERE WERE ANTS EVERYWHERE. Again, I can’t emphasize this enough. THERE WERE SO MANY ANTS EVERYWHERE I THOUGHT THE COUNTERS WERE A DIFFERENT COLOR THAN THEY WERE. Truly a staggering number of ants. Swarming this huge stack of rotten food and plates and trash. The counters looked alive. Like a fuzzy counter top that moved.
I mean, to think these people were living in this house is beyond me. They had ants all over the floor, crawling in the windows above the sink, and even in the carpet in the living room. Me and my boss look at each other in disbelief. We spoke to them, respectfully declined, and had them follow up with the owner of the company.
Basically, the guy was very wealthy early on in life. Bought the house and married. His wife was about 10-15 years his junior, but she was completely senile. The entire time we were in the kitchen, she was by the glass doors and sat at the breakfast table staring into space. The man himself was probably on the edge of dementia, since speaking to him was difficult because he would get off topic and completely forget what we were speaking about.
It was a very sad situation realizing that even though they retired with all this money, it does them no good. They were in serious need of a caretaker or live-in nurse. They could obviously afford it, but I’m not sure why that wasn’t happening. But anyways, I’ve never been so taken aback walking into someone’s home like that. It felt like a horror movie.
When I was a kid, I went to my friend's house for dinner. They ate straight butter like it was mashed potatoes. I was like, eight, and didn’t want to offend them, so there I was, eating freaking butter. My brain hurts just thinking about it.
When I was in high school, I visited a friend at her house, but she never told me that her mom was a hoarder. I did everything I could to be polite and not call attention to the fact as we walked through narrow paths in the house. There were some rooms that were inaccessible because there was so much stuff. The weirdest part might have been that six people were living in this house like it was no big deal.
When the mom got back from running errands with a bag full of junk from a Halloween store, she just added it to the piles.
When I was 12, I had a friend who owned several hamsters. Always like 6+ at a time. The house smelled horrible. Anyway, I spent the night one night and got up to get water at around midnight. I opened the freezer to get ice and it was FILLED with hamster carcasses. Like almost two dozen. I practically threw up. I never brought it up and never spent the night again. She moved away a couple months later.
I went to my friend Brian's house once for dinner, and his mom set four places. One for me, one for Brian, one for herself, and the last one was for a doll with a cut-out picture of Brian's dead grandmother's face taped on. Very creepy.
My friend’s dad had a full-on nervous breakdown during dinner while I was over one night. He and his wife were having a relatively light disagreement about something, and then all of a sudden he starts losing it and crying uncontrollably. He got up and began pacing back and forth in the kitchen. I didn’t see what happened after that because my friend's mom quickly shuffled us off to his room and made us lock the door.
I was probably 9 or 10 at the time. I told my dad what happened the next day, and he just kind of made a face and that was it. A few years ago, I asked him about it and my dad said he and my mom put the kibosh on our friendship, at least me going over to their house, based on that event. No idea what actually was going on.
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