The Plot Thickens: People Share Their “But, Wait, It Gets Worse” Stories

The Plot Thickens: People Share Their “But, Wait, It Gets Worse” Stories

There are days where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed and you just know that you’re going to have a bad day. When frustrating things start to pile up, like running out of coffee or forgetting your keys inside the house, you might ask, “How can this day get any worse?” Well, sometimes, the universe takes that as a challenge, and all you can do is buckle up and get ready for the worst. These people lived through nightmare days like that—but at least they got a crazy story out of it.


1. A Flat Roofer Walked into a Club…

I went to a gentleman’s club with a friend and passed out in the back rooms and then woke up to an empty wallet and a dancer saying I owed her $300. Authorities are called to address the situation. I show the officer my online bank info showing a $500 ATM withdrawal at said establishment. I told the officer that either the dancer took my money while I was passed out or the bar served me $500 worth of drinks. Officer doesn’t think the dancer has a reason to lie.

I get cuffed and put in the tank and spend six sleepless hours there until I get released. Just as I’m leaving the station, my phone rings. My boss is wondering where I am (as it’s a Tuesday). I tell him I spent the night in the tank. He tells me to stay right there and he’ll pick me up. I ended up working a 12-hour day as a flat roofer.

MichaelTXA

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2. It’s My Kid’s Party, I Can Yell if I Want to

I went to a friend’s birthday party in fifth grade once. We all got into a limo with a bunch of the group’s moms, including the birthday girl’s, I’ll call her Gina, mother. We were having a great time and the moms all decide they were going go to the bar and leave all us fifth graders in the limo. Things went fine until we went back to Gina’s home.

We got there and our friend Jennifer said she had a stomach ache. Jennifer had a lot of health problems so we weren’t surprised. Jennifer asked Gina’s mother to call her family to leave. Gina’s mother then practically cornered Jennifer and started yelling about how disrespectful she was. The other moms stepped in and told her to stop and Gina’s mom then turned around and said that everyone had to leave and that the party was over.

We all left and I called my mom to pick me and Jennifer up. Gina came outside and said that her mom had passed out in bed, assumingly hopped up, and then brought the cake down so we could eat it on the sidewalk with our hands.

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3. Family Affairs

Two of my friends had a falling out. I was dying to know what was going on between them because they lived together and I felt like I was watching mommy and daddy get divorced. One friend was never around and the other told me he honestly didn’t know what going on. After a couple months, I finally got some one-on-one time with the friend who wasn’t around and he explained everything to me in detail.

Basically, he asked if he could date the other friend’s cousin and his response was an emphatic NO. But, since the other friend had dated his cousin without asking, he violated bro-code and started seeing her anyway. In dating this girl, he came to find out that she and the other friend were more than just cousins. They had carried on a physical relationship for years. Basically, they were like bunnies whenever the family wasn’t looking.

But hold on! It gets worse. He was told this went on for 10 years. The girl was 22. Her cousin was 24. They had been sleeping together since middle school. But hold on tighter because it gets worse. The girl’s father and her cousin’s father are identical twins. Let that sink in for a second. Genetically, they are half-siblings.

At that point in the story, I downed my drink and apologized for even asking about what was going on. I wish I never knew. As a follow-up, they no longer live together or speak to each other. I’m still really close with the other friend. I see the creepy friend in passing and we’re still friends, but it’s hard to look him in the eye.

rawbface

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4. The A-Plungers to the Rescue

Okay so like a year and a half ago, I had a Marvel movie marathon at my friend’s house. We stayed up until like 7 am watching Marvel movies eating nothing but Oreos and drinking coca-cola. Throughout this time period, I hadn’t gone to the bathroom once. So, after we finished one of the movies, I went to the bathroom and this is where things really go off the rails.

My stomach was hurting from eating only Oreos and soda, so I had to go pretty badly. Then I did and felt relieved…for like .5 seconds. I flush the toilet and it’s not going down and I kind of begin panicking and start flushing the handle several times. Then at that pErfeCt moment, the water starts to rise and overflow, the contents still not flushed.

I tried using the plunger but that it wasn’t working out for me since it was already overflowing. I start crying and my friend can hear me and comes in. She’s a saint so she like calms me down and calls for her mom. It takes her mom an entire HOUR to fix the toilet and clean up. My friend and I look back and laugh now but at the time I wanted to flush myself down that toilet.

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5. Lesson NOT Learned

A few years ago, I was given a pocket knife as a birthday present. A few months later, I still hadn’t used it. It was getting close to Christmas so we were putting up decorations. The box that contained my Christmas tree was taped shut. I was going to get a pair of scissors when I remembered the pocket knife I got for my birthday. So, I went and got this thing out of my desk and started to open it up.

To this day I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to put my index finger UNDER the blade and pull back to open it. I just about took a slice off the front of my finger. So, I went down the hall and put a Band-Aid on it and then went back to my room. At this point, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson and would put the knife away in exchange for scissors.

Nope. I still used that thing to open the box and came close to cutting myself again in the process.

OW2000

6. Going Once, Going Twice. Sold to the Highest Faker!

I went to an apartment auction and was planning to bid. Well within a minute it passed my limit and soon there were just 2 bidders left. One was a woman in her mid-20s, a first home buyer there with her mother. The other was a big, bald, angry, and aggressive sounding man in his 40s at the back of the room. She would wait a while and think before increasing $1k then he would bark back immediately with $5k more.

Halfway through, he walks up to the front of the room, right next to her, and just says, “Don’t try me, love, I’m going to win this.” After a few more bids back and forth he was true to his word, laying significantly more than it was worth in my opinion. I thought that was it. But wait, it gets better. Two days later I was at work when I get a call from the real estate agent. “So, just hypothetically, if you had another shot at the place would you be interested?” It turns out the jerk’s deposit cheque had bounced. I declined.

eknuth

7. The Ol’ Country Way

I was at a country concert in the middle of June and was dancing with some friends and all of a sudden, they disappeared (I was pretty messed up). As I’m leaving to go find them, this girl grabs my hand and we start dancing. One thing leads to another and we started making out until at one point she pulls away and says, “I don’t think my boyfriend would like this.”

I tell her I’m going to grab a drink to get away and she grabs my hand and says she’ll come with me. Here’s where it gets worse. I run into a customer from the store I work at and start chatting with him. The girl with me starts chatting with the customer’s girlfriend. All of a sudden I hear her tell the customer’s girlfriend, “Yeah it’s my birthday in September! I turn 18!”

Noped out of there so fast.

alphalegend91

8. Now That’s Your High School Movie!

During one of the lunch periods, some guys who had issues with each other started brawling in the cafeteria. The lunch monitors and on-duty officer for the high school weren’t able to stop them as it was 5 or 6 rather large dudes. Reinforcements get called and 4 or 5 squad cars whip into the parking lot and the officers run into the school.

They get into the cafeteria and start breaking up the fight that 1/3rd of the school (~400) is watching at this point. One of the guys breaks free from the officer’s hold after only getting one wrist cuffed and started sprinting away. The officer realized he wasn’t going to catch up so he shot and hit the kid with a taser. The kid dropped immediately.

While that was going on, a kid decided that during that lunch period would be the perfect time to smoke in one of the bathrooms a bit away from the cafeteria. This wouldn’t have been much of an issue, but homeboy was on that wacky tabacky. So what else is a high teen supposed to think when they hear squad car sirens whipping into the parking lot other than, “OH NO, THEY’RE GONNA GET ME!”

So, he needs to get rid of the evidence. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the crayon box. Instead of flushing it or washing it down the sink, he throws his lit joint into the garbage can which, at this point in the day, is full of now dried paper towel that all catches fire. The kid freaks out and kicks the trashcan over sending flaming paper towel everywhere setting the bathroom on fire and books it.

While that was going on, a math class was winding down and people were working on their homework before they got to go to their lunch period. A girl calmly raised her hand. The teacher asked her what her question is and she said, “Um, I think my water just broke.” The teacher bolted into action, called the office, and said they need an ambulance stat as he has a student going into labor (Pregnancies were not uncommon at the school).

He, being a father himself and having gone through this process with his wife, began leading the girl in breathing exercises until two paramedics showed up. They came in, got on each side of the girl, hooked their arms under hers, and lifted her completely off the ground before leaving as quickly and safely as they could out of the room. I do believe she was able to make it to the hospital to deliver a healthy baby.

All of this happened between 11:40am and 12:10pm. Everyone knew about all the separate events by the end of the day.

Thatwerksforme

9. The Worst Time to Forget Your “Doo-Key”

I was working for a large hotel chain in London for a few weeks, shooting interiors/exteriors for their brochures and I’d end up going from hotel to hotel meeting managers/assistants who would take me round the hotel all day while I took my photos. Knowing full well that no-one works in a hotel without acquiring some pretty amazing stories, I would interrogate each one for their most outrageous tales.

I got to hear a bunch of stories that ranged from fascinating to dull: The orgies, the famous faces cheating on their spouses, the occasional slaughtered goat in the bath (incredibly more common than you might think…), and the time that the cast of Friends stayed at the hotel while they were filming those episodes in London.

One story rose above the rest. A gentleman, alone in his suite, woke up in the middle of the night with a DIRE need to unload his bowels. I mean a really, really desperate need, to the point that he must have woken up in a panic as he jumped out of bed, butt naked, bolted for the bathroom door and burst inside. Except he didn’t.

In his tired state, and no doubt thanks to his unfamiliarity with the hotel room, he bolted for the front door of the room by mistake and let the door shut behind him. Now this man who both, let’s not forget, feels an agonizing rumbling in his intestines and is as naked as the day he was born, suddenly finds himself in the corridor and panics, understandably.

His desire to poop is so strong that it overwhelms any other thought going through his head. He. Must. Poop. He starts banging like a maniac on a neighboring door, hoping someone will answer, and eventually, someone does. A man opens up the door, probably assuming that a fire has started in the hotel and he’s being woken up for an emergency evacuation. And in a sense, he’s half right.

Our naked hero bursts into the room, pushing past the confused and bewildered occupant, apologizing along the way, and makes a break for the bathroom. But no. He doesn’t make it. Halfway there, his sphincter gives in to the pressure and he unloads a spray of effluent across the floor of the stranger. Some of the foulest smelling waste imaginable is dumped all over the place in a mottled line, leading to the toilet.

The room’s original occupant, who was up until this point, standing scared, bewildered, and confused by the door still, immediately vomited. To his credit, the digestively challenged man did make it to the sitting position in the bathroom and sat there crying and apologizing to the vomiting man and eventually the hotel staff, for a full 10 minutes while his gut punished him for some earlier indiscretion.

When the “Pooper” had finished, the hotel moved the “Poopees” belongings (some of which were speckled with poop) to a new room and I assume that the Pooper had a nice long shower. But wait; it gets worse…

In the morning after the debacle, the Pooper walked into the restaurant for breakfast and who should be there but last night’s victim, eating his cornflakes. The two apparently locked eyes, whereupon last night’s memories must have come flooding back to the victim with a vengeance because the poor man, in the middle of a crowded room full of people enjoying their food, immediately vomited all over the table.

photosunny

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10. It’s Not What It Looks Like!

This was back in my freshman year of high school in my physical science class. We had a substitute that day and she was walking around making sure that we weren’t on our phones or anything. As I worked my way through the test, I came to the free-response questions. The first question was something about projectile motion involving an object fired from a cannon.

It said to solve it and draw a representation. I’m not much of an artist, so I draw two wheels and a shaft. I think that this is probably good enough. Then the sub who is walking around stops at my desk. She stands there for a few seconds, looks at me, and then keeps walking. Why did she stop at my desk? I look at my paper and realize that my cannon does not look like a cannon.

It looks phallic. I frantically begin thinking about how to fix it and make it more cannon-like. I decide that I should add texture to the wheels to help distinguish it. In my head, the cannon wheels were made of stone. So, to show this, I draw little squiggles all over the wheels. Perfect. Nope. Now it has ball hair and the sub is walking back towards my desk.

I desperately think about what to do before deciding that I should color it black. Cannons are usually black. I shade it all in, but now it just looks like a black one. The sub passes my desk again. I decide to round the wheels a bit more and call it good. It looks kind of like a cannon now. I continue reading the problem and realize that I need to draw the projectile.

I draw a circle to suggest a cannonball. This is perfectly fine, but now I decide that I am an artist and I need to show motion. I put two motion lines behind the ball that connect to opposite sides of the cannonball and stem from the cannon. Now it appears to be shooting stuff all over. I give up. I write, “This is a cannon” and have an arrow point to my beautiful drawing. I continue on with the test. I got a hundred.

laskman

11. And I Keep Bleeding, I Keep, Keep Bleeding (Not) Love

I had debilitating arm pain for a few weeks and spent a lot of money and time going to the doctor trying to get it figured out while navigating the American healthcare system. But wait, it gets worse. My doctor decides that I am depressed and this is causing my pain. He prescribes anti-depressants which make me incredibly sick and cause loss of appetite. But wait, it gets worse.

I start having chest pain and difficulty sleeping. It gets so bad I go to urgent care and they tack on a script for valium. I start popping these as often as I can to try and control the pain I am in and trying not to pass out. But wait, it gets worse. The chest pain starts to get so bad and is accompanied by difficulty breathing so I go to the ER. After an emergency CT scan, it turns out I have a pulmonary embolism. But wait, it gets worse.

I am taken off anti-depressants and my birth control pill and put on a loading dose of blood thinners. This causes me to have my period. But wait, it gets worse. I start bleeding excessively. Not to be too graphic, but clots the size of baseballs every 10-20 minutes by day 2. But wait, it gets worse. I return to the hospital and am told I am just having a bad period and the reason I passed out walking to the bathroom was not from my blood loss, but from influenza, which I tested positive for.

I go home and lie on the couch bleeding through my clothing and delirious with fever. But wait, it gets worse. My flu symptoms improve and I am cleared to fly to go to Canada to see my parents for Christmas despite still having heavy bleeding. My husband has to help me onto the plane because I am so weak. I am wearing adult diapers because it’s the only thing that controls the bleeding. But wait, it gets worse.

I make it home to my parents’ and spent 2 days in bed. On Christmas Eve I check my heart rate monitor and see that my resting heartbeat is 140 BPM. I am incredibly dizzy and pale. At first, I attribute this to flu. But wait, it gets worse. I convince my Dad and my husband to bring me to the hospital. As it turns out my hemoglobin is so low from all the bleeding that at this point, I am in danger of having a heart attack.

For Christmas, I get two emergency units of blood and a ton of morphine. But wait, it gets worse. The morphine and blood loss combo causes the worst migraine I’ve ever had in my life. I start screaming and puking. I need an emergency CT scan on my head, which was my second in just over a week. But wait, it gets worse.

Luckily my head CT is clear but I continue to have debilitating migraines. I spend the next several months recovering and finally am well enough to start functioning like a normal human again. Then I get a bill from the hospital explaining that my insurance company says that they will not cover my initial CT scan (the one I had that diagnosed my PE originally) because I didn’t pre-approve it. I’m still currently fighting this with both insurance and the hospital.

KiKiTheArtTeacher

12. When It Goes From Bad to Worse

I had a doctor’s appointment after work so I needed to be in at 7 to get off in time. My alarm wasn’t set, but I woke up at 6:50 naturally and got dressed as fast as possible. I got there at 7:20 and the way it works at my job is that I would have to take a 45-minute lunch instead of an hour since I was working less than 8 hours. Okay, cool.

I had my sister’s spare key in my purse from borrowing her car. I told her previously that I’d hold on to it for a rainy day. She texts me that day an hour into work saying that she locked her keys in her car and she needs her spare. She only lives ten minutes away. I’ll just have a 15-minute lunch. Fine. As I’m driving down the interstate a car tailgates me so I get in the lane over to let him by.

Just barely avoided hitting a guy in the next lane who was in my blind spot. I get to the house and get the key to my sister, tell her what a bad day I’ve had thus far and barely avoided crying. She tells me that my day will get better and thanks me for bringing the key. I get back to work to go park in the garage and there is no parking. At this point, I call my coworker and start sobbing as I explain my day so far as I am unsuccessfully going up and down the parking garage searching for a spot. I end up having to park in the middle of Egypt.

I talked to my boss. I figured everything out and got into a better mood and despite only having a 15-minute lunch, I calmed down and was in much better spirits. Then my dad messages a family group chat informing us that our stepmom, who was diagnosed with cancer two months before and had been in the ICU ever since, was going into hospice.

We found out later that day she was going to be taken off the ventilator and wasn’t expected to survive much longer after that. She passed the next day.

touchedhazygodchange

Wait, It Gets Better factsUnsplash

13. A Flat Tire and a Tow Truck That’s MIA(AA)

I’m driving down the side of a mountain on the freeway on my way to work for a 4am shift and I get a flat tire. I pull over and watch the big rigs going by about three feet from my car and decide I don’t really care to change that tire. I call AAA, I call my work to let them know I’ll be late, and I sit and wait.

I watched two different tow trucks drive by. I call AAA back. I watch another tow truck go by, and now I can’t get anybody at AAA. Fine, I’ll change the tire in the rain while trying not to get hit by giant trucks who can’t see me until the last minute because of a bend in the road. I get my spare tire out, get out my jack, and realize I have a problem.

I’d only had the car about two months and I had made sure I had a spare tire and a jack. However, I don’t have the handle to make the jack do anything. I still can’t get AAA back on the phone so I call home. I talk to my dad and he’ll come bring me a jack. Both parents show up. I still have no idea why my mom came to watch us change a tire.

We get the tire changed and now we can see the spare tire is low on air. No problem, my dad has an air pump. It was a brand-new pump and we had to open the packaging to use it. It doesn’t work. Ok then. We slowly make our way on the shoulder about two miles to the exit and pull into a gas station to air up my tire. I went to check the air pressure and my tire gauge basically exploded into different pieces.

The spare tire had a higher pressure than what the gauge could measure. And that’s why I started my 4am shift at 6.

namey___mcnameface

14. Teenagers, Am I Right?

I’m 18 years old at a Steak n’ Shake with two of my good friends. One of our friends was notably depressed and he wanted to break some news. We ordered and as he was about to break the news, the table next to us was being rowdy and disrespectful. I confronted them, but was met with a lot of, “Shut up, fatty,” and other profanities.

Thinking of myself as an “18-year-old Alpha,” I began arguing back making the situation worse. The manager was sent out and we got yelled at like a bunch of kindergartners. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant, but wait it gets worse. I was an edgy smoker so I told them jokingly, “Hey guys, I’m going to go get some cancer I’ll be back.”

My depressed friend then broke down sobbing revealing to us his dad just got diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I haven’t had a smoke in 6 years.

REDmanBert

15. Dating Karen

I went on a date with a girl. She did not look like her picture. Ok, whatever. But then she yells at me for telling her Canada has provinces, not providences, and insists they’re the same. I’m from Canada. Then she freaks out because she realizes I work for the same company as her boyfriend who she had not mentioned to me, which would have been fine if he was into open relationships, but she hadn’t told him yet.

Then she tells me the problem with my company is that it “keeps hiring all these immigrants to come take our jobs.” I am an immigrant just hired by said company. I stare blankly at her waiting for her to clue in. She says, “I mean no offense…I don’t mean you, you’re white.”

wayoverpaid

16. We Don’t Talk About That Door

I went to my first rave at 19 with some friends in Chicago. Everything was going great, there was dancing, making friends until my friend pulls me over and says, “Yo…there’s a sink full of knives over here.” The place was fairly small. It looked like some kind of abandoned bar and there was nothing in it except for a bathroom, the sink, part of a counter, and one separate room with a closed door.

I go over and look into the sink and it’s stacked full of kitchen knives—like large butcher knives. We looked at each other and decided it was probably time to head out anyway (it was about 3-4am). Just then, a fight breaks out between two guys. Through the strobe lights I watched one guy try to punch the other, miss, and faceplant right into one of the cinder blocks guarding the DJ table. He was knocked out cold.

Yep, it was definitely time to go, except one of our friends had to pee. So, as we waited for her by the entryway (close to the closed room), I started chatting with this cute guy and he seems chill so I suggested he come hang with us for a while since we’re leaving, but instead of answering he picks me up and opens the door to said room and tries to drag me in.

I sprawled my hands and feet to grab the door frame while my friends had to physically stop him. I only got a glance but there were a couple people going at it and one dirty looking mattress in what I later learned was the “bang room.” Just as we started walking towards the train, not more than a block from the event, two cop cars with only lights & no sirens speed past us and stop right at the venue we were at.

We were all high and had drugs on us and left just in time for the place to get raided. I don’t know if I felt more lucky or stupid at the time but it was definitely a night to remember.

noellanni

17. Sdf

Many years ago, I started dating my current wife. We lived two hours apart and it was a difficult start. We’d go on a date and I’d spent one weekend at her house. She came to spend a weekend at mine. On Fridays, I would play Magic with friends and drink. She walked into this chaos…and she didn’t play Magic. Apparently, I was drinking too much and way too fast.

I stumbled upstairs and puked all over the bathroom. She cleaned up and helped me into bed and told everyone I was done for the night. She then proceeded to climb in and sleep next to me. But, wait…so, at the time I was still living with my ex. This is important. We had separate bedrooms and were completely platonic. She was still there though.

She had gone to the local bar with a couple friends. At some point in the night, my phone started blowing up with messages from her. Finally, future wife, completely sober, couldn’t sleep and answered the phone. Ex had been kicked out of the bar and needed immediate pickup. Apparently, ex was slamming drinks herself and just projectile vomited all over the bar.

Future wife grabbed my car and headed to the bar in this unfamiliar town. She made the pick-up for messed up ex and two messed up friends. She continued forth on the half-mile drive back to my house. And then she proceeded to turn left on a no left-turn intersection. Unfortunately, a cop was near and decided to pull her over. Typical, “Ma’am, do you know… blah blah,” and ex pulls open the door and proceeds to puke everywhere. Officer is all like looks like you’ve got your hands full and sends her on her way. Cool.

They make it to my house. I am still obliviously passed out. Ex stumbles out of the car, falls down in the yard and pukes a bit more. She totally pees herself. Future wife helps her inside, cleans her up, helps her change clothes, and gets her into bed. She then climbs back into bed with me. About a year later we got married. I don’t know what she was thinking.

kerbythepurplecow

18. Geist of Saint Traft but in Real Life

For my 18th birthday, my oldest brother thought it would be a good idea to hire a female adult dancer as a gift for me even though all my friends were from a Christian school and my mom and people who knew me and watched me grow would be in attendance and all knew a stripper wouldn’t be something I would want.

After what felt like forever being forced to sit through the mortifying lap dance and all that she finally left the party. I felt bad she had to actually go through with it knowing I was being forced to sit through it. But it gets better…I actually KNEW her. She was from a wholesome part of my childhood—also I’m gay but was in the closet at the time. She and my mum even recognized each other as she was leaving, we only realized after she left that we knew her.

That day an actual part of my childhood withered and would have much preferred the $500 it cost to hire her as a gift :/

thechair101

19. This Was Not in My Job Description

I’m a hostess at a really fancy restaurant. There’s this one old couple who are kind of regulars. They’re super stinking rich. We’ll call them Mr. and Mrs. Green. Mrs. Green has, I assume, some kind of ALS because her hand is all shriveled and she can’t use it. Mr. Green is aware of his wife’s situation and does absolutely nothing to assist her. He makes her open doors, doesn’t pull out her chair for her, doesn’t cut her food, etc. It’s almost as if she’s one-handed because tasks are difficult for her.

One night they come in to eat. Usually, Mr. Green is very rude and demands a table that’s already been reserved and makes a huge hassle, but tonight, he was well-behaved. I seat them at their table, pull out the chair for Mrs. Green, and a huge smile appears on her face. She gives me the biggest THANK YOU ever. It’s as if that’s the nicest thing that’s ever been done for her. Her husband apparently doesn’t do it.

Work is busy as usual, there’s me and another hostess (let’s call her Lucy). Lucy is seating a party and I’m up at the front answering phone calls. All of sudden, Mrs. Green comes up WADDLING to me. She grabs my arm as if her life was in danger. She says to me, “HELP ME!”

“Is everything alright ma’am?” “I JUST POOPED MY PANTS!”…Why me? I honestly didn’t know what to do. What did she want from me? “Okay, the restrooms are right over here.” “I NEED YOU TO HELP ME IN THERE!” “Oh…um.” I was hoping she was pulling a prank on me. I was speechless. After what seemed like forever, I said, “Okay I’ll meet you in there after I seat this party.”

She said ok and went to the bathroom. I grabbed Lucy and told her what happened. She had no idea what to do either. We thought about getting her husband but we knew he was useless. Lucy kept doing her job while I checked on Mrs. Green. I went to the bathroom and there is Mrs. Green in an open stall on the toilet. I looked away and asked, “Uhh…is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you get me a plastic bag for my underwear?” Phew! I thought she was going to ask me to wipe her or something. I went and got her a plastic bag. After I handed it to her I asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?” “YES! WATCH THE DOOR BECAUSE I’M GONNA COME OUT AND WASH MYSELF IN THE SINK!”

“It’s ok, ma’am, I can just hand you wet paper towels.” “NO, I NEED THE SINK!” Jesus, Joseph and Mary. I go out and watch the door, thankfully, nobody came by. I went back into the bathroom and ask, “Are you going to be ok?” “NO! I NEED HELP PULLING UP MY PANTS!” I literally held my breath and braced for the worst. Everything seemed to be going fine until the very last second where I accidentally touched her butt.

I scalded my hand like there was no tomorrow. I helped her back to her table and pulled out her seat again. She leans over to her husband and says, “Honey, we have to go. I just pooped my pants.” You know what Mr. Green said? “We’re not leaving! This is a nice restaurant and I want to finish my dinner!” My heart sank. I wanted to scream.

There was nothing else I could do though. I go back to my hostess duties and tell Lucy everything. After a little while later, the Greens are leaving. Mrs. Green is just mere steps from the door when she stops and says, “UH-oh!!” Not again. SHE POOPED HER PANTS AGAIN! This time both me and Lucy help her to the bathroom. I am not doing this again!

This time Lucy helped her in the stall. If you recall, Mrs. Green already soiled her underpants so she was wearing just regular pants now and now EVERYTHING is ruined. There was literally nothing we could do. When Mrs. Green comes out of the stall, tears are streaming down her face from embarrassment. I felt awful.

We walk her out to the front of the restaurant where Mr. Green is waiting for her, not happy. He groans and opens the door so fast that he almost hits Mrs. Green. We decided to walk her to her car. That was the worst work experience of my life. WAIT, IT GETS WORSE. The Greens still come back every now and then. Mrs. Green doesn’t even remember me.

She came up to me another day and said, “I’m sorry dear but I need some help in the restroom.” Yes. This is my life. I told management this problem and they didn’t seem to care.

kumquat_kutie

20. Stormtrooper Are You?

So, it was on May 4th (May the fourth be with you) and one freshman at my high school dresses up as a stormtrooper. I see him and think, “Oh that’s cool,” and go on with my day. I had an exam first period so I go to class early to study. About 10 minutes before class starts, I get a text from my sister who also went to my school asking me if I was okay.

I laughed because I thought she meant for my exam, but no. She said a bunch of officers in armor and shields burst into the cafeteria yelling at everyone to get out due to an intruder. Right as I showed my friend in my class the teacher across the hall told us to get out but left before telling us why. My teacher came back from printing the exams and I showed her my sister’s text and she was confused, but then our principal came in and yelled at us to get out.

So, we evacuate and find out we were the last class in the entire school to evacuate. We then get ordered by the authorities to start heading toward our safe haven meeting place (a church up the road) and this gets everyone really worried. Everyone was texting their friends if they were safe and out of the school. I found out that my friend was locked in a closet and at this point there were rumors of shots being fired and a potential explosive device (all false, but words spread fast) so I am paralyzed with fear for my friend but I told my principal and they knew they were there, so that was okay at least.

It turns out this whole thing happened because a parent who was dropping their kid off didn’t know what a stormtrooper was and thought someone entered the school with armor and a duffle bag holding weapons (his lunch box). Oh, and it gets better…the kid was clueless that he caused all of this and evacuated with us and walked to the church just as scared as everyone else.

He was just a poor little freshman. We are now known as the school that evacuated because of a stormtrooper. People magazine covered it, TMZ covered it, all because of a clueless parent. Oh, and it gets better…my principal said it was a Darth Vader costume when talking to the press, so everyone reported it wrong because my principal also didn’t know his Star Wars references.

thecoopster3000

21. Attention, Everyone. There’s Been an Incident.

I was working at a coffee shop in a bookstore. We had these radios with little earpieces so the employees could talk to each other (all cafe staff was cross-trained for the bookstore). All of a sudden over the little earbud, I hear a crackle of static, a pause…static again and then my manager’s voice saying, “…somebody pooped in bargains.”

I lifted my head in time to see about 3 or 4 other employees pop their heads up over bookshelves and then another manager speaks. “I’m sorry… what?” “You heard what I said. Somebody pooped in bargains…OH MY GOD, THERE’S MORE.” After a brief (hah) investigation, we find a trail of liquid and semi-solid poop on a meandering trail throughout the entire carpeted store finally ending at the bathroom (which we assume the person had been too embarrassed to ask for and that’s why they wandered around all over).

Inside is a 30-40yo woman in one of the stalls, sans pants or underwear (those are in the trash) and she is waiting for her friend to come back to the store with new clothes for her. We were in a mall lucky for her. It turned out she had one of those colonoscopy bags and it had ruptured. We had to close the store (since we serve food) and have a carpet cleaning company come in.

TinyCatCrafts

22. That Was Unexpected

We were on a field trip to San Francisco in 5th grade, and on an intersection, there was this guy who was messed up who decided to keep throwing bottles out the window, get out, pick them up, and throw them back into the car over and over again. Of course, this was against the law, so the driver called the authorities, but what happened next was where it got better:

So, after doing this about 5 times, the guy decided that it was a good idea to pee in a half-full (I think) bottle just to see what happened. He did and probably forgot about it because then he picked it up to drink the pee-mixture. Me and my buddies braced ourselves for what was about to happen next.

So, the traffic was really slow and about 30 seconds and half a pee bottle later, the guy gets apprehended for driving while messed up but he did one last thing that would really set this in my mind forever. Right before the authorities caught him, he really needed to go again, so where’d he do it? In the bottle! By now the bottle was about 70% pee, so the guy actually realized what he did. But the officers arrest him and about 5 seconds later, we see a cop get blasted with a spray of pee-mixture.

We laughed so much that we didn’t get to see the rest of it, but man, I still wonder what was going on then.

RickyXPeeper

23. Peeing Red

Okay, so last November I had kidney failure. I did a Marine CFT (combat fitness test) that day, working on getting my black belt in MCMAP (Marine Corps Martial Arts Program). I probably didn’t hydrate enough, but I found out at the last minute about the CFT and it’s required to get a good score to enroll for my black belt.

I get out there and it’s a particularly cold day. It was November 13th. I’m by far the oldest guy out there (37, the rest are young’uns, about 21). So, I run, lift, crawl, etc., my butt off because I want that black belt. I get my first class CFT score, but holy moly, I’m winded. I can’t focus my eyes and it’s like I’m looking out of glasses with two different lenses in them. I take a nice breather before heading home in my car.

I get home and I feel like absolute garbage. I have to take my daughter to gymnastics though. I go early to get some Chik-fil-A on the way and eat at the restaurant. We get to gymnastics and my stomach does not feel good. I brush it off. It’s probably just a little cramping from the workout or my body doesn’t like that I just ate after the CFT. I am pretty old these days after all.

There are some people at the community center playing some ping-pong and they offer to let me in on some games while I wait for my daughter and I play for a bit. They are far better than I am even on a good day for me and after a few games, I feel wasted. I get home, and shortly after getting home, I start throwing up. I realize that I probably really need to hydrate, so I try to drink water. I throw that up. I just keep trying and it’s not happening. Thought it was maybe bad food or something, whatever, I’ll sleep it out.

I try to go to sleep and I’m sweating like crazy. I didn’t bother checking my temperature. I just try to sleep it out. I don’t get much sleep, get up the next morning still super sick, but now super parched. I try to drink and throw it up. My wife decides I need to go to the Emergency Room. She gets the kids to school and we go there. I sit for a few hours in the waiting room and they finally see me.

I explain my symptoms and the situation and they take a urine sample. After a while, they tell me that it’s probably a stomach bug and that they’ll give me SIQ (sick in quarters, no work for the day), some anti-nausea pills, and some ibuprofen. So, I go home, take these pills, still try to drink something. I’m still throwing everything up but I’m not sweating out anymore.

I feel terrible all day, try to nap it off, but I just keep on waking up all dazed and whatnot. My wife brings me back to the ER and they repeat what they said before and without any tests or anything, they send me home. I call work and they tell me to not worry and just come back when I feel better.

Next day (Wednesday), same thing, I’m still throwing up everything I try to eat/drink. My wife tells me to make an appointment with my primary care doctor. I make it for the next morning. She gets the kids to school and drives me to the doctor. I get in and explain my symptoms. She says, “They took a urine sample at the ER? What were the results?” I explain that they didn’t tell me. So, she says she’s going to go check.

When she comes back, she verifies that my wife drove me there. She says, “Okay, let’s go see your wife really quick.” We get to the waiting room where my wife is waiting and the doctor says that my wife needs to drive me to the ER immediately or she will call an ambulance. There was blood and protein in that urine sample.

So, my wife drives me to the same ER and we sit there for a while. They finally see me a few hours later but my wife has to leave not to pick up the kids from school. So, they bring me in, I tell them what’s up, and they decide it’s probably a good idea to get me on an IV and they do a blood test. The doctor comes back with results from the blood test with a very interesting look on his face. Instantly, I can tell something is wrong.

He says that I’m in severe kidney failure and my kidneys are operating at about 6%. They start doing tests immediately. They do two ultrasounds and find that I have “sludge” around my something-or-other (I forget what internal organ). Maybe that’s it. They don’t know. They go to do a CT scan, but they can’t pump the special fluid in me that helps them see because it’s bad for the kidneys, they say and that’s probably not a good idea for me right now.

Nothing. They don’t know what’s up. They decide to put me in for surgery to get the organ with the sludge removed, but then they decide not to. They arrange for me to have a biopsy on my kidney and a catheter in my chest so I can start dialysis. They’re hoping that putting me on the IV and pumping lots of drugs in me will stop me from throwing everything up and it works.

I still can’t eat or drink, but at least I’m getting hydrated. My heart rate is stupid low and so is my blood pressure. They keep coming in every hour on the hour to make sure I’m still okay, checking my heart rate and blood pressure. Okay, so, so far, so good, not the worst pain ever, I know. Easy simple stuff, I’ve been through far worse, I just feel gross. But this is where everything hits the fan.

So, I go in to get the operation to put in the dialysis thing and do the biopsy on November 20th in the early morning. They roll me in and put me on some mild drugs (I do fall asleep for a few seconds, but they wake me up because they’re afraid I’m too much of a lightweight for drugs, which I am).

They roll me out and tell me that I can’t get up and I have to keep pressure on the pack that they’ve put over the biopsy site on my back, lower right side. So, I’m lying there, and suddenly I get this insane urge to pee. I tell the nurse and she brings me this special thing to pee into. I start peeing and it’s straight. Freaking. Blood. Like, it’s very red and as soon as it gets inside it’s coagulating like a pudding. This is bad.

I call the nurse. Every time I feel like I’ve finished peeing, I can feel my bladder filling back up…in time with my heart beating. Man, this isn’t good. Nurse comes in and sees what’s going on. She calls out to the doctor (who is taking all his operation stuff off) and says that I’m peeing blood. He responds that it’s okay and that it’s pretty normal.

She gives me a fresh bottle, takes the one I have (that is about half full, maybe a little more at this point), and shows it to him on the other side of the curtain, says, “Uh, Sir, I think this is definitely a problem.” “Oh. Uh. Get him prepped to go back in, quick.” I can hear the urgency in his voice. By this time if feels like I have to keep peeing, but I can’t. It’s like my bladder feels constipated.

They pull me back in and he explains that he’s probably accidentally hit a large blood vessel, but it’s okay because he’s going to fix it. They can’t put me under but they’re going to give me some local anesthesia and told me that this is probably going to hurt. They tie down my wrists and he does stuff down on my crotch with the needle going in.

Holy moly, this hurt. He says he’s going to put some sort of special foam stuff on the blood to stop it. But now my urinary tract is clotting shut, so they have to put in a urinary catheter. Again, it’s just local anesthesia (they put some stuff on what might have been a q-tip thing and shove it in my pee hole). “[email protected]#[email protected]&^%*.”

It was a very good idea to tie down my wrists for this. It went deep. They then shove the urinary catheter in. This is a whole new type of pain. Welp, my urinary tract is definitely clotted. They roll me out after the surgery but now they have to figure out how to remove the blood. They decide to take a large syringe, fill it with saline solution, connect it to the catheter tube, pump the saline into my bladder, and then “pump it.”

Oh dear, I can’t tell you how much this hurt. So, they’re doing this for a few hours. Clots are starting to come out and then a big one got stuck at the base of my thing. You ever seen what happens to a tube when a vacuum is applied to it? That’s what’s happening to this catheter tube on the inside of my pee hole with a clot hitting it on the inside.

This goes on well into the night. I’m still awake for all of this. The shifts have changed and new nurses come in. So, at about 2100 (9pm), they do another ultrasound to see what’s going on. There are definitely still clots and they’re huge. Nurse has some bad news. They need to take out my catheter and put in a bigger one. So, they do it. There are no words.

They continue to pump. And pump. And pump. I don’t remember what time they stop (I only know the time they put in the bigger catheter because my wife texted me about an hour later). They eventually stop and I fall asleep. I wake up sometime in the morning, maybe 3 or 4am, and I have an excruciating headache. It feels like a headband around my head. They give me some sort of super-cocktail that knocks me out cold.

So that was the worst pain of my life. Not just for the level of pain, but for how long it lasted. I will never forget it. I ended up having to live with that bigger catheter until I was discharged the day before Thanksgiving. I still had clots coming out but they didn’t have to suck them out anymore. It would still hurt every time it hit.

phlsphr

24. If You Can’t Fix It, You Gotta Stand It

I get pulled over for expired registration. Since I’m a first-time offender, they give me a fix-it ticket. A mile down the road I get pulled over for expired registration again. Cop laughs, has me wait a bit, then sends me off. I fix my registration as soon as possible and bring in proof to the courthouse. Courthouse won’t accept it because the ticket isn’t in their computer yet.

Months go by and I forget about the ticket. Eventually, I get a fine; now I have a late fee. My mistake, that sucks, whatever. I take paid time off to go to the courthouse to get all of this taken care of. Go out to my car in the morning and find it’s been broken into. Everything has been cleared out—including the original ticket, which I need to show it was a fix-it ticket. Without it, I now have to pay the fine for an expired registration. Somebody TOOK MY TICKET for whatever reason.

Other things stolen: novelty sunglasses, a euphonium, a bag of trail mix, a gallon of water, my CD collection from high school, various other stuff I’ve probably forgotten, all of which wasn’t really worth much with the exception of the euphonium. I go to the courthouse, wait an hour, explain the situation to the lady. Lady says I can go to DMV and get a reprint of the ticket so I don’t have to pay for the fixiit ticket, which saves me $300. Why not?

I drive to DMV and wait an hour. Lady at DMV tells me they have no record of this ticket and that the courthouse should have the record. I drive back to courthouse, wait an hour, and talk to the same lady. She says she can’t because it’s just a digital record. At this point, I’m angry, so I just pay the darn thing off. $600 down the drain: $300 for registration, $300 for late fee. Screw it.

I go home and find out the robbers took the glass breakers out of the side compartments of my car. Uh oh. Over the following week there’s a rash of car break-ins with all of them using a glass breaker. Luckily, my car was not broken into a second time.

groovysmoovy

25. Missed That Call

I placed my cell phone on the back of a forklift while I answered another phone being handed to me. Some random walks into the warehouse from outside and steals my cell phone (caught on surveillance). I get a call from my boss 20 minutes later. “Someone turned in your phone to the gas station up the road and called me from your contacts.” (I didn’t have a screen lock).

I get to the gas station only to find out someone who overheard the initial call pretended to be me and the employees handed them my phone. My theory is thief #1 was not impressed with my s2 with a randomly working side button so he ditched it. Then a Good Samaritan found it and left it in care of gas station employees who immediately handed it over to a person overhearing the whole phone call exchange with my boss.

I called the authorities and they hung up on me saying it was unlikely that it happened

sigmarsbar

26. I Think It Can, I Think It Can, I Think It Can, (It Can’t)

My car blew a tire while I (single female) was on a road trip alone. In the middle of the night. In the middle of NOWHERE, Nebraska. No cell service. No one to hear me scream. (I get it fixed thanks to a kindly group of female bikers passing through who let me use their cell phone). But wait. The next day my car (only 3 years old, just over 30k miles) won’t accelerate past a certain mph.

I am on I-80 when it’s down to a two-lane road because of construction. I’m going slower and slower down to 30 mph. I think, well, maybe I can make it to the next exit (just 2 miles away), but I can’t accelerate at all. There are MILES of trucks behind me laying on their horn. My car just DIES in the middle of this two-lane road, nowhere to swerve and no road to pull off of, for me or for anyone behind me. My catalytic converter or muffler or something just gave out.

It took 2 hours for a tow truck to haul me out of the way.

Dadadawn

27. Like a Good Neighbor, Guitar is There

In 1970, when my father was in graduate school, he lived on a one-acre lot that had been subdivided into four apartments. One night, one of his neighbors invites him in for a drink. One drink becomes several and at the end of the night, they give him their guitar. He tries to decline but they’re insistent. So, my father thinks, “Okay, I’ll take it tonight, and return it tomorrow when they’re sober.” That night they move out skipping rent and their lease. Oh, and it gets better!

The end of the month comes and my father gets his bank statement and returned checks and there’s one he doesn’t recognize for $47.50 (about $100 today). On the back, it’s been endorsed (signed over) four times. So, my father goes to his bank, shows them the check, and says, “Look, this is clearly not my signature,” and the bank refunds the money (and promises to investigate why it cleared at all being obviously suspicious).

My father, being a statistician, puts two and two together, and decides that his ex-neighbors must have been visiting his apartment at some point, seen his checkbook, and taken one. And they, therefore, gave him the guitar because they felt guilty. Well, no harm done, and my father has a guitar. Oh, And It. Gets. Better!!

The next month, my father got a letter from the power company about an unpaid bill, at (surprise, surprise) his neighbor’s address in his name. So, my father takes the letter, and his ID, and his lease, and goes down to the power company to discuss it. It doesn’t take long for them to see that, yes, this is obviously messed up and my father wasn’t liable for the bill. So, maybe the ex-neighbors were feeling a little more guilty, but no harm done, and my father has a guitar.

Oh, AND IT GETS BETTER!!!

My father didn’t really play the guitar and in fact, I only remember him playing it, maybe, 2-3 times when I was a very young child. So, it basically lived in a closet for almost 50 years. Recently, I decided to learn the guitar and my father gave me his and told me the story. So, not that I would ever sell Daddy’s Guitar, but I was curious what it was worth.

Remember that it gets better? It was an early 1950s vintage guitar worth about $600 on eBay! But it’s still Daddy’s Guitar, and I will not sell it, but I will laugh at my father’s ex-neighbors.

WordWizardNC

28. Do-Nut Forget to Check Your Tires!

I’m driving six hours to my cousin’s wedding with my partner. We leave early and have a great trip. Our arrival time is about three hours before the wedding starts so we have time to check in to the hotel and change. I get a call from my dad—his car broke down (he’s terrible about maintenance) and he’s half an hour behind us; can we please come rescue him?

We double-back and because he refuses to give us any cross-streets (his description was “by the trees in the pullout by an overpass”), it takes us nearly an hour to find him. We get his car to a safe location, back on the road, get to the hotel, throw on nice clothes. Dad says it’ll take 15 minutes to get to the venue so he takes an extra ten minutes getting ready.

It’s actually 15 miles/30 minutes; we get to the wedding five minutes late. We have to sneak in in front of everyone and I have to stand in four-inch heels on grass for half an hour because there aren’t chairs outside the front row. Okay, fine, we made it. That’s the important part. But wait, it gets worse.

In the middle of the appetizers, the DJ pages, “The person driving [my distinctive car].” The rear tire is flat. Okay, cool, better than finding out late at night. We find a small nail in it, swap it out for the donut, and go back to the party. The plan was to get the tire patched in the morning before driving back to deal with Dad’s car.

But wait, it gets WORSE!

I get up after four hours of sleep and head to Walmart to get the tire patched because they’re the only place nearby open on a Sunday. I don’t get hotel free breakfast because they won’t let you remove food from the serving area. I go into Walmart Auto fifteen minutes after they open…hour and a half wait already. Okay, cool. We wander the store and play on the WIFI. We finally get called in to deal with the fix.

But wait…it gets worse.

The tire wasn’t flat because of a nail. Tire had two major slashes probably from hitting a piece of glass. $100 later, I now own a new tire. It’s now 9:30 am so no hotel breakfast. I’m exhausted and hangry and we go grab something resembling breakfast and the largest coffee money can buy. We go get Dad, get his car to the only shop open on a Sunday and they say it will take at least a day to fix. We get him a hotel and drive the rest of the four hours home so my partner can work the next day.

It was a lovely wedding though.

KiraOsteo

29. Wish I Just Stayed Home

When I was 20, my roommate dragged me to a party. We both lived in the city and had to take a bus back to our hometown to attend the party. We were there for a couple of hours when this girl my roommate had been trying to hook up with shows up. After 30 minutes or so, she decided the party was lame and wanted to go to a bar. My roommate decided to go with her and dragged me along for moral support.

We call a cab and get to the bar. Despite my best efforts to wingman him, he starts failing miserably. So, I just sort of leave him to his own devices. Just as I’m about to call a cab and go back to the party, my high school English teacher walks in with some of her friends. I begin to chat with her, when all of a sudden, one of the women who was in her group (who was twice my age) begins flirting with me. After a while, my teacher and the rest of her friends call it a night, but the one friend that had been flirting decides to stay with me at the bar.

Eventually, I go out and have a smoke with her and we start making out in the parking lot. We call a cab and I drunkenly made the mistake of telling the cabbie my father’s address (I only moved out on my own two months earlier. Force of habit + being messed up). We show up at the house and I tell her that this is not a suitable place for, you know, because I knew my father was hosting his sisters and mother that weekend and asked her if we could go back to her house instead. She told me her husband wouldn’t very much appreciate it.

Stunned that she was married (I never noticed a ring), I got out of the cab and tell her to have a nice night. Now I’m standing in front of my old home, wondering what to do next. I decide to head to a pizza joint around the corner, get a slice, and call a cab from there back to the party. I go in, get a slice, and call the cab. As I’m waiting, the staff at the pizza place are laughing at how messed up I am.

The cab eventually arrived and I proceed to tell him the wrong address of the party house. I get out and wander around town for a bit until I got really tired. I decided to take a power nap in some wooded area then find the party afterward. I wake up five hours later by the sound of the alarm on my phone. Turns out I was only about five or six houses away from the party house and if I kept walking for literally another two minutes, I would have at least had a couch to crash on. Kind of annoyed by that, I find a bus stop, go back to the city where I lived, freshened up, and had to go to work.

Wambolt90

30. The BMX Gon’ Give It To Ya

One day, riding my BMX, I stopped at a shop for 30 seconds to change some money into notes. I walked outside and found my bike had been stolen. My friends rode around for an hour and eventually found the 8-year-old kid who took it and got the bike back for me. A day or so later, I was riding home on my BMX at midnight, stoned, doing top speed down a hill and see a group of teenagers quickly cross the road in front of me.

One punched me in the face as I rode past, I fell off, and they surrounded me. One of them started riding my bike around and they were going to kick the living daylights out of me. I didn’t register what was going on, but they thought I’d stolen the bike from earlier in the day so I start rattling off the bike’s specs to prove it’s mine.

When they heard my voice, one said, “Oh no, it’s a chick” and they gave it back and yelled “SORRY!” from up the road. Riding home, I  got my favorite pants caught in the crank. But wait, my week gets worse…One morning a few days after (I still had the fat lip), I rode onto a footpath to avoid some cars. There were schools on either side of the road and as I got right under a “beware of pedestrian” sign, a car comes flying out of a long driveway and collects me on their car.

My BMX was actually jammed in their grill and my front wheel was folded in half. I had rolled up the hood, landed on my head, destroying my helmet, and munched up my finger badly. My bike was messed up. The driver said, “Be careful” and drove off.

motivationascending

31. I Now Flower Crown Yee, My New Friend

I was browsing my university’s subreddit and saw that there was going to be an artist alley on Saturday. I message the poster and asked if they were going to have a booth and they say they are and the booth number there’ll be at. They seem like a cool bean so I figured I’d hit up their table after buying some merch at the alley.

Saturday arrives, I go around browsing a few tables, and stop at this one table in the corner. He seems pretty cool and was wearing a rad flower crown and my friend looks at one of the stickers and goes “GardenLeaves! Look it’s an octopus!” (sticker is a hot dog octopus and octopus is her fave animal). The dude at the booth tells us about the story behind why he made the sticker (childhood memories like, bruh, my heart) and it was really sweet and I really wanted to be friends with him but not going to lie, I’m socially anxious and don’t know how to make friends outside of class.

I chickened out and stepped out of the room with my friend to get my psyche up lol and I notice some pamphlets on a table. My friend and I take one and it’s actually the layout of the room with artists booths by number. I offhandedly mention to her, “Oh yeah, I was talking to someone on Reddit and they told me they were at booth 22,” She looks for booth 22… “YO IT’S THE FLOWER CROWN DUDE. OKAY SO NOW I REALLY GOTTA BE FRIENDS WITH THIS GUY.” Except how do you make friends???????

So, like, my friend pushes me to go over and talk to him again, and I’m like, “uh random question are you [reddit username]?” and like of course it’s him and I say (like really fast because my social anxiety has spiked up to god-tier levels but I really wanted to make a new friend and said, “You seem like a really cool person and I wanted to ask if we could be friends but I’m awkward and that’s probably a weird question but like I have no other idea how to actually become friends with people so like asdfghjkl [insert more garble along these lines]”

I don’t remember what happened next but he basically accepts and then says, “I now declare us friends” and bro let me tell how mentally exhausting that was BUT IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE A NEW FRIEND.

GardenLeaves

32. Not Every Sardine Was Meant to Swim, Son.

Oh, buckle up! This happened when I was around 15 years old. So, me and my brother liked to fish during summers until pretty late fall. So, we decided to go for one of the last fishing trips fall. The location we selected was one of the local rivers around 10 miles away. So, we packed our fishing gear on our bikes and rode to the location.

The spot we selected to start casting our lures was a place where we had caught pretty good haul previous times. It was a fork in the river with pretty steep rocks. We started to set our gear in order when I realized that I had forgot to pack my lures. Luckily, my brother had extra. So, we started fishing. After around 15 minutes, I slipped during one of my tosses.

And, of course, I fell into the river, during which I let go of my rod, which fell to the river. The water was so murky that there was no way to recover it. And when I climbed up from the river, I realized I had my phone in my pocket which was now busted even though it was an older Nokia. So, we decided to start heading home as we had no extra rods.

We packed our things and started to head back home when my brother noticed that my bike had a flat tire. So, I had to walk my bike home for 10 miles, soaked to the bone.

GrimBugi

33. I Gotta Go: Level Apocalypse

About 2000, I’ve had issues with my urinary tract for a lot of my life. I wake up one morning and I can’t pee. At all. I need to, but I can’t. I try to catheter myself (I had one from a previous issue from a while back), but no dice. I decide I’m going to just pound water and push it out, figuring it’s a blockage. Fast forward to around midnight that night, I haven’t peed in like about 24 hours, and have had around 2 gals of water. I got to go.

I call my girlfriend (now my wife) and she takes me to the ER. They take me back and try for about three hours to get a catheter in. But wait, it gets worse. I’m a 25-year-old man being worked on by 2 female doctors and a female nurse. I’m delirious with need and they finally decide to wake up the on-call specialist. He takes an hour to get there. He tries for about a half-hour.

But wait….at about 4:30 in the morning, they decide the only option is to cut a hole and poke a catheter in there. At this point, I’m ready to let them cut my head off if it would relieve the need. No anesthesia, just cut, poke, and KABOOM! A geyser of urine about 4 feet tall shoots up and soaks the general area.

I had to wear that catheter for 4 months until I had the surgery to correct it where they took a piece of skin from my cheek and fashioned a new chunk of urethra. Recovery was a nightmare. They cut me from stern to stem to access the stuff and my sack blew up like a watermelon for about 10 days. I also spent a year and a half sitting on a pillow.

noblprz

34. Sorry, Very Wrong Number

My story gets better in the drama, but worse in its real-world implications. At this time, I’m about 25 years old and I volunteer at my church’s youth group. My best friend is the pastor and my brother who is in high school is the sound guy. Our youth group had about 100+ kids, 6th grade to 12th-grade, two nights a week.

We had a mentor program where male leaders mentored male students and girl leaders mentored girl students. This girl, Tiffany, started attending our church as a way to rebel against her parents. Our church was non-denominational and her parent’s church was very strict. For some reason, Tiffany who was 16 took a liking to me.

I don’t know why, because I tried to avoid her in general—I thought she was annoying. Well, she wants me to be her mentor and I decline several times. She attended the same high school as my brother and started begging him for my number so, fed up, he finally gives it to her but changes the last two digits.

Months go by and she leaves me alone and even stops coming to our church. Cool, problem solved. Nope, this is where it gets worse. I show up to church one day and the authorities and the pastor want to have a chat. They show me text messages of “me” and Tiffany having very explicit conversations over text with inappropriate photos. The messages culminate with “me” convincing Tiffany to run away so we can be together.

See, Tiffany was planning on running away and her parents sensed she was acting weird so they went through her phone, saw the messages, and called 9-1-1. Tiffany told the authorities it was me texting her. Turns out, that number my brother gave her actually belonged to a man who traffics young girls to and from Ethiopia and he had been grooming her.

She didn’t know anything about me so this guy was able to pretend to be me until he finally told her the truth, but she “loved” him and forgave him. So, wanting to protect him she told them it was me who did this terrible stuff.

ilikehotwings42

35. Plenty of Catfish in the Sea

When I was 21, I had never kissed a girl, never had anything resembling an adult dating relationship, and had zero confidence about any of it. I met a girl on a dating site and the connection was instant and beyond attraction (though I was, also, wildly attracted to her). We maintained a long-distance relationship for several months as I noticed and ignored red flag after red flag until, combined with frustration over her endless excuses for not having a cam or not finalizing plans to meet up, finally I knew I couldn’t ignore what I knew anymore.

I confronted her. She confessed that she had been catfishing me (different name, someone else’s pictures but that everything else was true.) She sent me real pictures of herself. I wasn’t repulsed but I wasn’t attracted. But I was lonely and sure I’d be that way forever, so I said we could work it out, but honesty was crucial. Turns out, I’d just made a huge mistake…

I found out she was still lying about traveling as a photographer. She had reasons. I let myself down and accepted them. But wait, it gets worse. On our second time together (I went to visit her), one of her friends joked about how cool it was that her boyfriend could get her booze for her birthday. At this point, I was under the impression she was 20 turning 21 (she was in college, so I knew she was over 18 and never questioned her age otherwise) but she was 19 turning 20.

She said she forgot she had told me otherwise. I knew she’d talked about her age, her false age, recently, but I stayed anyway, just this time…no more lies. But wait, it gets worse. Five months later I flew down and surprised her and proposed. Two and a half months later, I graduated and moved everything I have to her home state.

I burned through my savings as the economy was collapsing just as I moved and the rural south was hit exceptionally hard. After going broke, in debt, and still catching little lies, I knew I had to go home. A week after I got home, she came up to visit for the holidays. The relief I hadn’t understood why I’d felt vanished the second her car pulled up.

Suddenly, I could hear clearly the voice in my head, “She’s lying!… is she? She might be. You don’t know, dummy,” after anything she said. Finally, late one night, I told her this had no future. She left early in the morning and drove home. But wait, it gets worse. Her friends knew nothing of the catfishing she’d done or the lies she’d kept going.

They believed her when she said I’d been emotionally and physically abusive. I received threats by voicemail and text off and on for a few months. But wait, it gets worse. During that aftermath, I went back to online dating. Found a new electrified connection with someone who had a hundred excuses for not having a cam and also planned and canceled or bailed or went incommunicado on meetup plans.

And despite seeing every red flag and knowing that same voice was trying to warn me that had mocked me at the end of my previous relationship, I convinced myself she must have legitimate reasons. And while I didn’t propose and we never met, I was catfished a second time and remained in a long-distance friendship/quasi-romantic relationship with catfish number two for over three years.

But wait, it gets worse.

When I caught Catfish 2 too clearly to hide from myself, I confronted her, when she didn’t own up and didn’t accept any responsibility and tried to frame it like it was only (and not just partly) my own fault, I said one of the worst things I have ever said to another human with every ounce of sincere and genuine malice.

“I have no comprehension of how much is wrong with you; what disorders or traumas have left you to see and interact with the world this way. But, I will say this, I hope you see the need to find help, I hope you find the courage to seek help, I hope you find the strength to work for that help and that you find an answer and a solution to all of your problems and find a way to be happy and whole in this life…and then I hope you mess every inch of it up and that every good thing rots or leaves and you are left without comfort or hope. Screw you.”

It doesn’t really get worse from there…but it’s only gotten marginally better.

Poseidonym

36. Don’t Stop ‘Til You Drop

My parents and brother went out of town the weekend of my 18th birthday (hockey tournament). Naturally, I decide to throw a (small) party since it’s my birthday. I told my parents I would stay at a friend’s house, but actually invited over about 20 people, most of whom would be spending the night.

Things are going fine, everyone’s drinking, and I was enjoying my birthday. A friend there said she’s never drank, but decides tonight is the night it’s happening. So, a bunch of us are sitting at a table playing Cards Against Humanity, and this friend, UNPROVOKED, opens and chugs an entire mickey (375 ml bottle). We know already that things are not going to end well—but it was still worse than we ever imagined.

Pretty soon she’s so messed up and everyone else was a pretty good level. No one’s sober enough to be the responsible one so everyone’s just messing around. My friends just start getting too rowdy and making a bit of a mess of my house and the friend who chugged the bottle clogged the toilet and puked in the sink, etc.

Another friend’s boyfriend came over (he hadn’t been drinking) and a few people leave with him in his car to go get pizza to bring back and when they come back, they say, “Oh ya, by the way, a cop is parked at the top of your street” (which I don’t even know if that’s true but they weren’t even there because of us so it didn’t really matter)—I start getting panicky because my house is a disaster, everyone’s too messed up, I’m convinced the authorities are here, so I decide whatever, I’m going to bed, this is a problem for future me.

Meanwhile, the driveway full of cars and lots of noise made my neighbor think that my dad was having a viewing party for the big hockey game on that night, texts my dad, and asks if he’s watching the game. My dad says, “Uh, nope, no one’s home. Shouldn’t be any cars there.” The neighbor sends a picture of the driveway and my dad instantly recognized all my friends’ cars and my parents decide to get my grandparents to come over in the morning.

So I wake up to my grandma walking in the door yelling my name, a bunch of my friends are sleeping in the living room, my grandparents won’t let any of my friends leave until they help clean the house, I’m upstairs with a couple friends having a panic attack, everything’s hitting the fan at this point because I know I’m dead.

THEN my grandma goes into the downstairs bathroom, sees the sink full of puke and the clogged toilet which has now leaked through the floor into the basement. I’m REALLY dead. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but I was terrified, of course. All my friends go home, I got in a bunch of trouble from my parents obviously, but at the time I honestly feared for my life.

Just seemed like one thing after another kept making the situation worse and worse, and it was pretty much karma because I was stupid enough to throw a party, and it wasn’t the best birthday ever, but now it’s a funny story between my friends and I!

ahbeeceeess

37. I’m Just Trying to Help You

EMT here. We got a call to transport a 97-year-old, Polish, Holocaust survivor…who didn’t like being touched…who was high on ketamine. Nurses tried to take out her IV, she pulled away, and said, “Take your hands off of me!!!” Nurses: “It’s time for you to go home, we can’t send you home with a needle in your arm.” Patient: “This is my home. I want to stay here with you.”

So, we got the IV out and got her moved to the ambulance. She keeps asking to go home. I tell her we are taking her home but she has the attention span of a goldfish so she’s asking me to open the back door while we are doing 60 down the highway. I tell her no I can’t do that so she starts taking the seatbelts off. I tell her to stop so she doesn’t get hurt and I’m putting the belts back on and she starts trying to bite me.

After some back and forth about the seat belts, I finally told her to knock it off and she starts smacking the cabinets with her hands. Then she forgets that I told her to stop and tries to take the belts off again and I grab her hand to stop her and she says, “I bite!” to which I said, “I’ll bite you back!” So, we get her home and as we start moving her inside, she tells me I’m a “Naughty Satan.”

We get her inside and in her bed and she thanked me for helping her into bed.

BOBAL00

38. The Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I went to WrestleMania 21 (I think the one in Seattle) and left from British Columbia for about a 3-hour drive. Immediately, not even out of the country yet, we get a flat tire, but it’s okay we got a spare (non-emergency spare). We call Mom to deliver it, change it, and away we go. We see the show and we are on our way home. Then a different tire blows outside of Seattle on the highway.

We pull over and my brother jacks the car up for no good reason as we don’t have a tire to put on and then just spazzes out and goes off in one direction. He doesn’t tell us where. Other two friends go the other way to find a phone and it starts raining. I don’t go into the car because it’s jacked up. So, I’m the rain for at least a half-hour.

Everyone gets back to the car. Brother says Mom is coming with another tire but is hours away she will meet us a Denny’s. That takes us an hour to get to. She gets there and for some reason brought our sister. We change the tire and follow them back when we are blinded by smoke. Mom’s engine gave out. So, we leave it on the side of the road and, oh yeah, good time to point out my brother’s car is a two-door sports car that already uncomfortable enough with 4 guys in it,

So, I sit in the passenger seat and my friends sit on each other’s laps with one friend’s head is leaning over the passenger seat cause the roof is so low. We somehow don’t get flak at border. We get everyone home just in time to see the sun come up. We never recovered the car we left in the States.

Mattcruise

39. Did My Knife Hurt Your Back?

This was back in about the 7th grade and I had a very small friend group, about 5 people who I trusted, with whom I would involve myself. We had the teacher that was really just not a good teacher. She could not control her class and even one time made me empty my pockets out in front of everyone because somebody threw food around the class.

Anyway, fast-forward to the end of the year, my “friend” had made a Snapchat account using her name with the abbreviations of a gang around the area I live in. This account would post some stuff every once in a while, mostly just silly little jokes. So, in the summer there was a Facebook account made, not by the same person, but this person had added the same teacher under her name.

So, imagine an account having your name adding you on Facebook. So obviously she did something about it. Her child also had the Snapchat account added and at the time, there were two posts, one talking about a coworker of hers being super hot and the second was explicit pictures of some YouTube star.

So, in the morning, I’m fine and walking out of my 1st period when the text I get says, “Don’t tell them it was me.” I’m so confused because I don’t know about any of this other than that this person owned the Snapchat account. At the time I didn’t even know the Snapchat account had been found out nor that a Facebook account was created.

Due to this, a conversation sparked regarding the fact that they had been called by the administrator with a police officer with a list of names, one being mine (this will be important later), and they had told him that he needs to spill the beans on who’s been doing this. He tells me that he saw my name but just said that he doesn’t know anything about this and doesn’t know why he got a friend request (the reason he got called to the admin office was because the Facebook account had added him).

So, we go about our day expecting me to get called in for questioning, I guess. I go about my day nervous because I have never even gotten a demerit for clothes violations and now, I’m being seen as a suspect for a police case. To my surprise nothing happens, fine by me, problem solved right? Wrong. This is where it gets better.

So, I go into the car talking to my friend about how he’s lucky he didn’t get caught when my mom tells me to put the phone away and that I won’t be on it for a while. Me being half unaware half aware of why, I act clueless as well even if it is the situation that I wasn’t involved other than that I had befriended the cause of the issue.

My mom talks to me, saying that her and my father received a call from the sheriff’s department that day. For what? I don’t know, maybe cause my name was on the list but I wasn’t going to make myself look like I’m guilty when I don’t know why so I tell her ok. She begins to explain how THEY TOLD MY PARENTS THAT THEY HAD SPOKEN TO ME AND THAT I HAD TOLD THEM I HAD MADE BOTH THE ACCOUNTS.

I get mad as I’m sitting there being accused of the stupidest things ever. Once she gets done explaining what I was being wrongly accused of, I told her none of this was true and she needs to stop acting like her own son is sad enough to do that. My parents and me called them back so that they could explain and apologize to me on how they wrongfully accused and informed my parents of everything.

Oh, and it gets better…

They tell me that the reason they accused me and told my parents is because my “friend” had thrown me under the bus. He had told them that I was the one that made both the accounts posted all the stuff and was doing all of this acting like my teacher. I, stupidly, went on a rant over Snapchat and blocked him off everything.

The sad part was that I was so close to this dude and his mom was really awesome. So, when people ask why I have trust issues or why I don’t try to get girlfriends, I tell them it’s because I focus on school (which I do), but the real reason is because I am scared to open up and have a bond with people.

Mr. KLT

40. Seen It All

My significant other locked his keys in his car a while ago. Well, only the hidden key that lives inside the fob. But you see, the “unlock” key on the fob is broken, so the key is required to enter the car and the fob fits into the ignition. He had no other choice than to open the trunk with the fob, punch out the small trunk access door that’s behind the backseat armrest, find the lever to lower the rear seats by shoving his body through the tiny door, crawl through the car, and retrieve his key in the front seat.

I also forgot to mention that the alarm was blaring this whole time. He finally gets through to the front seat, starts the car, and kills the alarm. Exhausted, with bloody knuckles and scrapes all over, he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him. It is then that he realized he had left the keys on the seat. Again. And the door had locked behind him. He turned and gave a swift punt to his tire out of frustration, immediately snapping his third metatarsal, breaking his foot.

He then had to repeat this scenario to get his keys out, but this time with a broken foot. He just got his boot off last week.

55GallonsDrumsOfLube

41. Can This Day Get Even Worse? (It Can.)

I had the worst day ever even though nothing important happened. I was sick (had the flu, had spent the previous day unable to keep any food inside of me) and had a bunch of things to do. I had to go to the other side of town to pay for my college graduation (in Brazil, students organize the event) and I hate it because I couldn’t care less and my mom was making me do it.

After that, I had a job interview so I was all dressed up. It started raining on my way there. When I got to the place, there was construction work everywhere and a bunch of wet wooden pallets across the floor so you could get to the venue. I entered, I paid, and when I left, it was pouring rain. So, I slipped while crossing the pallets and felt on the muddy, muddy, muddy floor. My clothes were ruined and my knees hurt.

While still on the floor, I threw up. That’s ok, I thought, I have time. I will go back home and change. But I got stuck on the worst traffic ever (rain) thinking to myself if I should call my interview and tell them I couldn’t make it. The traffic started moving faster, but there was a lot of water on the street and suddenly, the traffic stopped again, but my car didn’t and I hit the car in front of me.

I left the car in the middle of the rain to try to speak with the nice couple in front of me and exchange contacts. I already had mud and a bit of puke all over my clothes, what was a little rain going to do? When I finally went back to my car, my phone rang. It was the interviewer calling to tell me we would have to reschedule because of the rain (the city was flooding by then).

I thought my luck was starting to change when an officer stopped me over and gave me a ticket for talking on the phone while driving. That’s when I started crying. After an hour in traffic, I get home and the lights of my building are off. I go up to my apartment using the stairs too defeated to care. When I got there, I remembered my mother-in-law had made me an herbal bath (she was a crazy hippie lady) and even though I don’t believe in those things, I decide that’s the best day to have an herbal bath and cleanse my soul or whatever.

I prepare an amazing bath and get in. I have an amazing 30 seconds when suddenly, my whole body starts to itch. Desperately, I get out of the shower. My skin is getting all red. It is so unbearable that I put any clothes on and run to the hospital, in the rain, with traffic. I was allergic to some of the herbs and had a serious allergic reaction.

I’m sobbing by then. I go to the hospital, they give me drugs, and I fall sleep. I wake up again around 11:50pm in the emergency room thanking God the day is ending. While I look to the side, the patient on the next bed is playing with himself while looking at me. The end.

lthomazini

Sources: 1, 2

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