The world is full of amazing people—but let’s be real: There seem to be twice as many insane jerks out there. Entitled brats, backstabbing friends, toxic family members. These flat-out horrible people are the actual WORST.
1. All The Way To The Top
About a year ago, I was running a small video game tournament in the small company I owned. The waitlist had a full list of 16 people, and it was fine, until one entitled parent ruined it for everyone. So we were starting up the games when a dad ran into the store with his son. Dad: We’re here for the tournament. Me: Oh sorry, but the list is full. Dad: Well then, make some room. Me: I can’t do tha—
Dad: Listen, I can get you fired with the push of a button. Me: How? Dad: I have been friends with the CEO of this company for a long time. Me: Then call him. I watch him make a fake phone call then hang up. Because I know something he doesn’t know. Dad: He says you’re fired. Me: That's funny, considering I am the CEO. His look of shock still makes me laugh to this day.
2. Safety Last
I'm allergic to hand sanitizer, alcoholic wipes, generally anything that has an alcohol base. I even bring my own soap because I can have a reaction to some soaps. I can't even drink the stuff without my lips swelling. My old boss was my cousin, so when Covid hit I didn't really have a problem until, my cousin got promoted and got transferred to a new office.
Enter our new boss. We got a mass email going over our new safety procedures and one of the new procedures is that we all have to use hand sanitizer and antiseptic wipes. I sent an email to HR telling them about my allergies, with medical documents. They sent back saying that I don't have to use the hand sanitizer and antiseptic wipes and that they put it in my file.
However, they then sent the exact email to my new boss. His reply was infuriating. He said that all employees have to follow the new safety procedures, with no exceptions. When I replied that if I use those products I will need medical attention, he then sent me another email saying that if any employee doesn't follow the new safety procedures correctly that they would be fired.
I sent copies of the emails to our union rep and HR department to which they replied that they would talk to him and kinda told me to ignore him unless he tries to actually fire me. So I go into work and my new boss is literally waiting for me at my desk with a bottle of hand sanitizer in his hands asking me to hold out my hands. I did reply saying "No thanks, I’d rather not go to the hospital today".
What he did next was so twisted, it’s unforgettable. He got mad and literally grabbed my hand and squirted sanitizer on it, then rubbed it in. He then said "See, that wasn't so bad." I tried to go to the bathroom to wash it off but he blocked me. Well, I had a bad reaction—thank god I had an EpiPen in my desk. My boss kept saying “I thought he was lying” until I was put into the ambulance, but I couldn't hear him.
A member of HR department came to visit me in hospital—probably making sure I don't sue—and informed me that he was fired. The woman from HR department also said that they called the authorities on my behalf and, I should be getting a visit from them soon.
3. The Devil’s Love Triangle
I worked with a guy who alienated his whole family—and the reason why was seriously disturbing. He slept with his son's long-term girlfriend. Like, his son's first love. And then? He told his son like it was no big deal. He told us about it at work, and said his son was being a bit of a wimp about it. We then watched his life fall apart as both his kids cut him out of their lives.
It was so bad that the dude only found out he became a grandpa when his older daughter sent him an email with no pictures. As you can imagine, sleeping with his son's girlfriend was the worst thing that I'm aware of that he's done—but I can definitely say that, generally speaking, he was a horrible person.
4. There’s A Special Place For People Like This
I work for a gardening company and we have guys come and go on the regular. One guy we'll call Mike worked for us for a while and built up a relationship with one of the customers, Wilfred (name changed to protect the innocent). Anyway, Wilfred was around 90 years old and a veteran of WWII. He was also completely blind.
He had this old BMW sitting in his cluttered garage, the thing looked like it hadn't moved in a couple of decades. The car was his pride and joy in his younger days and he would tell anyone who would listen about how he used to drive himself and his wife to the local town to go dancing. Mike told Wilfred he would take the car home and fix it up and bring it back when it was all sorted.
It was decided if he could get the old girl purring again, Wilfred would pay Mike a pretty penny. But that’s not what happened. What Mike actually did was drive it straight to a scrapyard, sell it for scrap value then lie through his teeth every time Wilfred asked about it. No, he wasn't fired. So yeah, I think that's the most disgusting thing I have seen anyone do. Steal from a blind old man.
5. Blood Isn’t Always Thicker Than Water
My friend was in her final year of university. She had strong grades, and a really great internship lined up with a place she dreamed about working at. It almost certainly would have led to a great job. Well, that is, until her parents faked her younger brother's passing on the day when she had three finals back to back to back. The reason behind it all was seriously deranged.
They wanted to test whether she cared more about her family or her career, supposedly. She raced home in panic and grief, getting plane tickets and flying across the country, trying to get deferred exams on short notice. One of her profs, who helmed two of those classes, required a certificate. Well, she couldn't get it, since her brother was alive and well.
She didn't get to graduate because of that, at least not in that semester, and she lost her dream internship. Thankfully, she got a good job after graduating half a year later, though not nearly as good as the one she lost out on. Since then, she's largely cut her parents out of her life.
6. Cheaters Never Prosper
My dad cheated on my mom for a year and hid it. He got fired because it was with a co-worker, but he told us all he got laid off. We all spent a year feeling bad for him and trying to help him out...Meanwhile, he was sneaking around using his severance money to take his mistress out on little trips and stuff.
It's the worst thing anyone I know has ever done, and it was from the guy I should be looking up to.
7. A Family Affair
I am a combat veteran and a school teacher at the time of this story, and my wife was a school teacher as well. So, I bought my first house 12 years ago. It was in a low-middle-class neighborhood with a lot of working-class families. My house had a pool in the backyard and my parents bought me and my wife a hot tub as a wedding/housewarming gift.
Two weeks after moving in, we came home to an unsettling sight. We found a stranger and six teenage kids swimming in our pool when we got home. We will call them Entitled Mom, the Entitled Daughter, the Entitled Son, and the others I assume to be their friends and/or boyfriend. The daughter was about 18 or 19 years old and her brother was about 17.
When we told them to get out and get off our property, the mother told me that the previous owner gave them permission to come over whenever they wanted to swim. I explained to her that I was the new owner and that I was not ok with it. I told her that not only do I not know them, but there is a liability for me if they got hurt. I couldn’t believe her response.
She yelled and faked cried, saying I was being a bad neighbor, selfish, and forcing her kids to sweat in the summer heat. She told me that if they got heatstroke, it was my fault for not letting them swim in my pool. I told her to get the heck off my property and never return. Fast forward two weeks. I had put up a "No Trespassing" sign on my property in multiple spots and had gotten to know many of the not-entitled neighbors.
They were great and told me to ignore the mom and her kids. They told us she was already badmouthing us, but no one ever believed her. This is when it took a strange turn. Now I start to notice when I wake up in the morning that there is evidence of people using my pool and hot tub at night when we are asleep or away. Like, I find cans and other stuff.
I figure it has to be the mother and/or her brats. So I install cameras on the grounds and start video-taping. Sure enough, I catch the daughter and a few others hanging out in my pool on Friday nights when my wife and I are out. I figure they must have been waiting for us to leave and then threw a mini-party or were quietly swimming while we slept.
So I discussed it with my wife. We decided to teach the mother and her brats a lesson. So the next Friday night, I park my car a street over and my wife does the same. We wait in the dark house to see if any of them come over. The daughter and I assume her boyfriend, the son and I assume his girlfriend, and four other teen couples come right over and start getting in my pool and hot tub.
I wait 45 minutes for them to get really into their fun. And let me tell you, it was getting hot and heavy out there; they were all undressed. I then spring my trap. I go out with my piece, pointed at the ground but at the ready. When I reach the pool, my wife flips on the backlights and I yell for them to freeze or I'll shoot. Meanwhile, my wife calls the authorities.
They all have the deer in the headlights look on their faces and not one of them tries to speak for a good minute. The daughter then starts to tell us that she has permission to be there and that we need to let them get dressed. I tell them that if they move towards me or their property, that I would consider them to be charging me or reaching for a weapon and I'd shoot.
They must have believed me because they froze. One girl begged me to give her her clothing. Not being a total jerk, I say that I will throw them all their clothing. But there was a twist. I then walk over to their piles of clothing, phones, and purses and throw EVERYTHING into the pool. They freak out trying to save their phones and other goods.
After ten minutes officers show up and they have the kids climb out of the pool wearing their soaked clothes and trying to shake their phones dry. I show the officers the videos from our cameras, the No Trespassing signs, and explain to them that I had told them and their mother they were persona non grata. The kids were detained for trespassing and a bunch of other charges.
The officers recommended that next time, I leave my piece in the safe and let them just come and get them. I told them that I thought they may attack my wife and had to "stand my ground." I proved that I never pointed it at them with the videos, so I couldn't be charged with anything. Then came the very best part. As the kids are being loaded into the cruisers, the mother shows up yelling at the officer, my wife, and me.
She demands they let them go and even tries to open the door on one of the cruisers. The officers threaten her with being detained if she doesn't back off and leave my wife and me alone. I later found out that the charges against the teens were reduced and they all got plea deals. They all got community service, fines, and were put on probation. We got a restraining order against the mother and her brats so they couldn't bother us again.
I then sent a bill to the mother for the cost of draining, disinfecting, and refilling my pool and having a professional cleaning service clean up the kids’ mess. The bill was for about $400. I had my parents’ attorney send it to her with a letter stating that if it was not paid in 30 days, then we would sue her for a larger amount. She sent a check to my attorney and thankfully it did not bounce.
About a year later, the entire entitled family moved away and we never heard from them again.
8. Everybody’s Got A Story
This encounter happened about seven months ago. About a year ago, I was diagnosed with cancer of the nasal cavity (stage 2). The tumor was quite large, but thankfully hadn’t spread. To get it removed, I first had to undergo aggressive chemotherapy to make it smaller. Thanks to the chemo, I had severe alopecia (hair loss), which made most of my hair and even eyebrows and eyelashes fall out.
At some point, I had to go bald, but I wore a wig, because I didn't want to look scary. I'm 6'4" and pretty muscular, so I thought people would assume wrong things about me. So once, after a long chemo session in the hospital, I took the bus home. There's only one bus that goes from the hospital to where I live, so I took that one, only to see it was absolutely packed.
I felt like garbage thanks to the chemo, so I asked a middle-aged dude to let me sit. He was very understanding and gave me his spot without complaining. Two stops later, enter entitled mom, a lovely whale with an "I demand a meeting with the CEO" haircut and a 12-year old kid. It took her roughly five seconds to see the bus was packed.
At this point, she started looking for a free seat, spotted me, and started marching to me. When I saw her, I knew I was screwed. She then stood next to me and decided to talk to me. This is the conversation that followed: Her Hey, could you let my kid sit down? Me: You mean me? Her: Who else? Me: Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm on my way from the hospital and—
Her: (cutting me off) So are we (nonsense, the stop was a few kilometers away from the hospital), my boy just broke his leg and we're coming straight from the ER. Let it be noted, her kid was standing next to her, without any support, clearly embarrassed. Me: He's standing next to you, completely fine Her: Look here, my kid DESERVES to sit down
Me: Look madam, I'm sorry, but I just got back from a chemo session in the hospital and I need to sit down and rest (I then moved my wig a bit to let her see my bald head). At this point, she then straight up started yelling in my face Her: STOP MAKING EXCUSES AND GET OFF THE SEAT YOU PIECE OF GARBAGE. At this point, I was baffled. I didn't know what to say. The kid was trying to make his mother stop and we had the attention of the whole bus. But she was nowhere near done.
She then grabbed me and tried to yank me from my seat. I held on tight and thankfully didn't fall off. Now, enter my savior. The middle-aged man nearby stood up and started defending me. Him: WILL YOU SHUT UP YOU DUMB COW?!? Her: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TALKING TO?!? Him: (with ice-cold voice) Stop assaulting other passengers or I will be forced to step in. Also, every dumb moron could see that the dude has cancer.
Her: NO, HE'S JUST A GANGSTER. Him: He's got NO EYEBROWS, YOU MORON. Seems like that REALLY offended her, because she spun around on the spot and threw a falcon punch in the guy’s face. I was shocked and in disbelief. The whole bus was flabbergasted, and the kid probably wished he'd never been born. The man then said something unbelievable and a golden karmic moment followed.
Him: Ok, that does it. Harassing passengers on the bus, physical assault against a passenger, and now assaulting an officer. You're in deep trouble lady. She then pulled out a badge and told her to stay where she was. Then he pulled out his phone, called someone, and told her she was being detained. I couldn't believe it, he was a bloody police officer.
At this point, she was as white as a wall. The bus had just come to a stop, so she decided she'd make a run for it, but other passengers blocked her way. She then also got charged with resisting thanks to this. Three stops later, a patrol car was waiting for her. The kid told me he was sorry for his mother's behavior and I felt really sorry for him.
He wasn't a bad child, but his mother was a demon. The officer then talked to me and asked me if I wanted to press charges, to which I gladly said yes. He took a statement and thankfully was kind enough to let me solve everything on the phone, so I didn't have to come to the station for questioning. In the end, she got some time behind bars, I think it was a few months and some community service.
I, in return, got a good story to tell and the sweet taste of instant karma. Right now, I'm riding the same bus home, as I just got back home from the hospital after a check-up, which reminded me of this. I should also note that the surgery went well, and I was declared cancer-free in November. My hair is slowly returning. Also, I don't need to wear a wig anymore.
9. Sit Down, Lady
I saw this today and I can't stop laughing. I was traveling in my city’s metro. It wasn't too crowded at that time, but all the seats were occupied. Still, you could freely stand without being humped by a stranger. There was this kid sitting in the reserved seats—the ones for people with handicaps, pregnant women, and old people, definitely not for moms of two-year-olds.
He was probably 14 or 15 years old. He is the hero of the story here. At one, our entitled mother comes in. She has this cute little child who was trying to keep up with his mom's pace. She instantly sees our hero sitting at the reserved seat and just stares at him. I guess this was her way to make people automatically give away their seats or something.
The kid didn't move, though. This probably irked her a lot I guess, because she moved towards the kid with heavy steps. She comes near him, stops, and again does the stare. The kid doesn't budge. Then she starts screaming. If she didn't have the whole compartment’s attention earlier, she had it now. She starts berating the kid for sitting in a reserved seat and not giving it to someone more deserving like a mother.
I don’t know what her logic was. The seats aren't reserved for them anyways. She just keeps shouting and screaming and tries to get others’ opinion on it, and for a while, people were on her side. Then the kid, out of nowhere, rolls the right side of his jeans up, detaches his artificial leg, and keeps it in front of her. The look on her face was priceless.
She just backed away silently and got off on the next stop. I don't think that it was her stop.
10. Thanks But No Thanks
I reconnected with a friend who was moving back to town. There was a live outdoor music event going on that evening and I invited her over before my friends and I went to the event. She asked if I could pick her up. Once she was at my house, we were all having a few drinks, and she disappears. I find her in the kitchen, and my jaw dropped.
She literally has EVERYTHING out of my fridge and is cooking. When I say everything: I had just gone to the store and gotten fresh veggies, chicken, ground beef. I was stocked up for a week or two. I ask her what she's doing, and she tells me that she's been a chef at some fancy restaurant for a while and wants to cook dinner for everyone.
First off: What the heck?? But although I’m annoyed, the food is already being cooked so I might as well get a meal out of it than get in a fight. Well, cue a few moments later when she gashes her finger open with a knife. Blood everywhere, including all over the food on the stove. Once I get her finger wrapped up, she asks me (and I quote): "Do you have a sewing kit? I'll fix this right up."
No is the obvious answer to that. I notice that she has gotten some blood on her dress and mention that to her. She asks me to take her home so she can change before we leave. Immediate "yes." (I’m hoping I can ditch her there). As I'm driving her across town, she calls her mom and chews the poor woman out. Yelling at her to get a bucket of water and baking soda ready to soak the dress.
We finally get to her house and she could sense what I was thinking. She asks if I'd wait for her to change and she'd only be a moment. The second she shuts the door to my truck, I pull off. It escalated so fast. Seeing me do it, she then jumps on my hood and starts screaming about the two tallboy Bud Lights that she left at my house and that I'm a thief.
I finally get her off the hood of the truck and simply tell her she's not invited, she destroyed ALL my food for over a week, and I never wanted to talk to her again. By the way: The food she was cooking looked and smelled terrible. She was not a chef, and she was not a good cook. I ended up cleaning up when I got home and whatever she was making was going to be uneatable, just a cross mix of chicken, beef, and every spice from my cupboard.
Think of a 10-year-kid unattended in the kitchen "making dinner."
11. This Is A Meet-Cute, Right?
I lived in a two-unit house, and we were the back unit that connected to a shared garage. The garage was used for nothing other than laundry and storage, and a previous tenant had left a mattress in it that no one ever bothered to move. One day I, a 20-year-old-woman, go into the garage and nearly jump out of my skin upon seeing some man sleeping on the mattress.
I freak out and flee back to my unit just in time for two of my male housemates to come home. They go to confront the guy and come back to tell me that he was friends with our other male housemate, and said housemate told him that he could crash in the garage as he was “in between leases for a few days”…without bothering to inform the rest of us.
Despite this jerk move by my roommate, I offered to let the guy sleep on my living room couch instead of some sketchy mattress in the crummy garage. Except a few days turned into a few weeks/months. I, the administrator of our utilities and rent payments, demanded that he chip in at this point. He agreed, but I was moving out soon because I finished a term early.
The couch and Wi-Fi router were mine and I was leaving them behind to pick up at the end of the year as a favor to my housemates. He shorted me a few hundred dollars (a large sum to a broke college kid) after I left. Another housemate ended up having to pay for this guest because I was about to go reclaim my couch and router if I didn’t get my money.
A year later, the guest had the audacity to text me to ask if he could “take me out” the next time I came into town. Yuck.
12. Make Yourself At Home
I have two young adult children living at home, ages 18 and 19. They both work and go to college. I trust my kids, and I trust their decision-making skills. When they graduated high school and turned 18, new rules went into place. No curfew, just call me and let me know if you are going to be out all night so I don’t worry. You can call me at any time for a pick up, no questions asked, just don’t be stupid and drink and drive.
Yes, your significant others can sleep over or come over for the weekend, just let me know what’s going on. Pay a small rent during the summer when you are working full time and pay your part of the car insurance. You have your chores, I have mine. We all work together. I tell them if they aren’t being jerks and they listen, in turn, I listen to them.
There is very little fighting or arguing in my house. This is their time to spread their wings and learn how to be a responsible adult and have me as a safety net. Lately, one of my kid's boyfriends has been spending a lot of time over at my house. He is here pretty much all the time. Two days ago, I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize and when I answered it was my daughter’s boyfriend’s mother. And she…was a real piece of work.
Me: Hello? Her: You need to tell my kid he isn’t allowed over to your house anymore!!! Me: Who is this? Her: This is “Tommy’s” Mother!!!!! Me: (I already know where this is going) OH! Tommy’s mom! I have to say you have raised a great kid! He is always polite and respectful. In fact... Her: LOOK! I don’t care WHAT you think about my kid!! He is never at home!! He isn’t spending any time with meeee!
Me: Okay? There isn’t much I can do about that... Her: Yes there is! Tell him he can’t come over to your house anymore!!! I WaNt HiM hOMe!!! AND YOU!!!! YOU SET A BAD EXAMPLE FOR MY SON!!! YOUR DAUGHTER HAS NO CURFEW AND I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HEARING HOW nIcE IT IS AT YOUR HOUSE! I miiisssssss him and want him home!!! Me, speaking very low and basically growling into the phone: Are you done yelling at me?
Her:......... ( I think I stunned her into silence) Me: I will take that as a yes. Do you trust the way you raised your son? Her: What??? Me: It’s a simple question. Do you trust the way you raised your son??? Her: OF COURSE I DO!!! What does that have to do with anything??? Me: Do you trust him to make good decisions? Her: YES!!! Yes of course. (She is starting to calm down now)
Me: Mother to mother, I know things are not okay at your house right now (her husband drinks a lot). I am trying to give your child a safe place when things are not okay at your house. (She starts to cut me off at this point but I won’t let her) It’s not your fault. Her: ....... Me: He throws your son out for days at a time sometimes, doesn’t he?
Her: Yes (I can hear her choking back the tears) Me: Do you need someone to talk to? Would you want to go out to lunch? That way you can feel safer knowing whose house your son is at and that he is safe? Her: That would be ok. We were on the phone for about an hour after that. What started out as an entitled mother was just a scared woman feeling very, very alone.
Sorry there wasn’t any righteous retribution, but I think it turned out ok. I am going to try and get 19-year-old Tommy’s curfew changed from 10 pm to midnight and maybe he can stay over for a weekend.
13. This Goes Way Beyond Mother-In-Law Jokes
My 69-year-old mother-in-law shacked up with multiple men while her husband (my wife's stepdad) lay in the hospital, dying of a brain tumor. She refused to visit him unless prompted by my wife and even then, only if we'd take her. She’d spend the entire visit asking how she's supposed to pay the bills when he dies, while he drifted in and out of consciousness.
She was incredibly mean before he got sick anyway, but while he was in the hospital, her behavior was sickening. She then refused to take part in any funeral planning whatsoever, leaving it all to my wife, who really struggled through the loss and just needed some love from her mum—but she just didn't care. However, she still cried and got all the sympathy at the funeral and wake.
Now, she tells everyone how badly she was treated by the deceased and how he left her destitute. She's never worked a day in her life or contributed to their bills. I hate this woman, but I had tolerated her until this.
14. First-Class Pain In The Butt
We were on a flight from Miami to Bolivia as a family of five with three kids under 12. We’re getting on the flight, sitting down, when this entitled woman and her husband come up to my row. I’m sitting in the same row as my brother and sister. They say: “Excuse us, you’re in our seats”. All three of us have all been well versed in child travel by this time so we pull out our individual boarding passes and show her that we’re also assigned these seats.
They insist that we’re wrong and demand to see the passes. We don’t give them over. My dad comes over to see why strangers are talking to his children: “Excuse me, why are you talking to my kids”? “They’re in our seats, look”. My dad says: “That’s their assigned seat, they know how to read a boarding pass”. By this time, we have attracted the attention of the flight attendant.
She confirms that indeed, those seats had been double-booked. The couple are irate, demanding their assigned seats. The flight attendant leaves to go “see what I can do for you”. This whole time, the woman is making a big show of trying to store her bag in front of ours in the overhead bins and complaining loudly. The attendant returns and says: “Thank you so much for your patience. It was double booked, but it looks like we have enough seats in first-class available for your party. If you could please follow me”?
They sigh, relieved that finally SOMEONE will see reason. Well, the joke was on them. The flight attendant holds up her hand. “No sir, not you. If you three (looking at me and my siblings) will please join us up in first class, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of”. The lemon-sucking look on the woman’s face as we politely grabbed our bags and moved to the coziest laps of luxury our young selves had the fortune of lucking out on was unforgettable.
I remember the meal making me have a headache, but the reclining seats, warm blankets, and sleep masks sure helped with all that suffering.
15. Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes
When I was a kid I never cut my hair, no matter what I never cut my hair, so I had very long blonde hair. And as a kid, a lot of people would ask to touch it. And I was fine with it, as long as they had my permission. So when I was six, my mom took me to a grocery store to buy some things for dinner that night. We got to the store and my mom got the stuff she needed, but was missing the bread from the other side of the store.
She sent me to go get it since I was fast and small. When I got to the bread, I picked out the brand we would usually buy, and at the time I really liked baguettes and other types of bread. So when I saw the baguettes, I totally forgot that my mom was waiting for me and grabbed a loaf(?) and headed back to my mom. When I was heading back to my mom from the bread aisle, I felt someone pull on my hair. Not gently, no, they yanked it.
They pulled so hard I thought my hair what going to come out. And I cried so hard my mom heard me across the store. I turned around in shock. It turns out it was a kid about my age who wanted to touch my hair, so his MOM, and I say his 40-YEAR-OLD MOTHER, pulled my hair so her friggin' kid could touch it. My mom rushed over and told the lady to let go of me.
The conversation then went like this: “Let my daughter go”! “My child just wanted to touch her hair, she has very pretty hair”. Me: “She pulled on my hair, it hurts”! My mom: “You could've just asked! You can’t just pull a kid's hair, I can call 9-1-1 for assault”! Her: “You are harassing me, all I did was let my son touch her hair! I can call the authorities on you for harassing me and my child”!
My mom: “Firstly, I am not harassing you, you grabbed my child. And secondly, you can call the authorities. You will only be making things worse for yourself”. She was absolutely right. As it turns out, the entitled mom DID call the authorities and they took both our statements. The entitled mother had given an over-exaggerated and dramatic report, telling the officers, as we would find out later, that I had given consent for her kid to touch my hair and my mom had come out of nowhere and started harassing the entitled mother.
My mother had given the officers the actual report from her side. I had been asked to give a report, but I was too scared and tired from the experience to say much. They checked the security footage and saw what actually happened. In the end, she got what was coming to her. My mom decided to press charges and sued the entitled mom for assault.
She was sent away for six months and fined for providing a false report as the cherry on top!
16. Race To The Bottom
My former stepmother drained my father’s bank account within minutes of his passing and only gave back what she didn’t waste on Amazon packages once we called her out on it. To add insult to injury, we froze his accounts and there was evidence that she tried to draw out more than she put back immediately afterward, which means that she had intended to overdraft his account and leave my sister and I with his debt.
We’re currently in the process of selling his house, which she wrecked shortly before we made her vacate the place, and are still trying to pay off his mortgage. But that’s not the most deranged part. She then tried to make a claim to his estate by claiming to have magically become pregnant a week before we lost him, despite the fact that they had been together for over a decade.
My sister managed to get her to send an ultrasound photo she claimed to have, and it turned out that she had paid $30 to a website for a stock ultrasound photo that she had edited fake information onto. It’s been about five months since we last had contact with her—but who knows what other tricks she has up her sleeve.
17. True Colors Exposed
A close friend of my mother's (we'll call her Maureen) was having an affair with a person who was also married (we'll call him Patrick). Patrick's wife, who we'll call Caroline, was quite mentally unstable. She was suffering badly from depression because Patrick was quite abusive and was constantly cheating on her. It was sad.
Despite him being a serial cheater, Maureen was sure that it was "true love," and was completely committed to the idea of the two of them eventually divorcing their respective spouses and moving in together. Patrick was obviously dragging his heels with this, but the relationship lasted for one disturbing reason. Both Patrick and Maureen were nasty people who delighted in tormenting Caroline.
Patrick would constantly gaslight her, and Maureen would hint and always hang around but make it just deniable enough that nothing could be proven. With Caroline's history of mental illness, nobody believed her, figuring that she was still paranoid and accusing Patrick because he had cheated before. Patrick had convinced everyone he had changed, of course, and all of this combined to make Caroline look absolutely psychotic.
Patrick and Maureen continued this behavior for over a year, absolutely tormenting this poor woman. One evening, my mother gets a phone call from Maureen, who seems to be in a state of shock. She asks my mom to come over, because she just got the news that Caroline has taken her own life. My mam rushes over, expecting Maureen to be in a state of absolute guilt and regret.
Well, she was in for a horrible surprise. When she gets there Maureen is laughing about it and says Patrick is coming over soon. My mom, who was not a very nice person herself—after all, she knew about this and said nothing—was finally disgusted enough that she ripped into Maureen and left. Over the next couple of days, the story comes out.
Caroline’s teenage daughter had found her. Even more tragically, Caroline had timed it to ensure that neither of her children would find her; completely unexpectedly, the daughter had returned home early and gone looking for her. In the following months, Maureen broke up with her husband and filed for divorce. She and Patrick purchased an atrocious new-build suburban house together.
Patrick actually convinced Maureen to put the whole thing in her name. But, there was some sort of truly twisted justice. They lasted a few more months, and then Patrick started ghosting her, cheated on her, and left. Maureen's husband and teenage sons had cut contact with her. At first, the sons still maintained contact, but when it became clear that Patrick disliked the younger son and was turning Maureen against him, both brothers left to go live with their dad.
Maureen was left with hundreds of thousands worth of debt, as the house was in her name. On the one hand yeah, she got played by somebody who I'm pretty sure is a legitimate sociopath. On the other hand, she still played with a woman's life and celebrated her being "out of the way," so I have absolutely zero sympathy for her. I think Patrick brought out her true colors because normal people do not do that.
18. Out Of The Flowerbed And Into The Fire
Because the groundhog had no shadow, spring came early, so I had decided to work on the garden strip that borders mine and Karen’s property. There's a fence between the garden and her house. While doing so, I get rid of some of MY daylilies that are on MY property. I finish, return to my house and continue my day, until I hear a shriek from the side of my house.
I rush over, because I'm scared someone got hurt, and Karen, who just got home from work, asks me why I got rid of HER lilies. I say that they were MY lilies, and that I was making space for tomatoes, cucumbers, and carrots. She then calls 9-1-1 because I had destroyed HER property. The authorities come and basically tell her to go inside and shut up, because it's pretty clear who's flowers they were.
But it didn’t end there. The next day she had a few too many. This put her anger over the edge about the loss of my lilies. She went, with wood and a firestarter, to my neighbor’s house on the opposite side. She then lit their bins on fire. This then spread to their porch, and before long their entire house was on fire.
I'm a light sleeper, and living in a cul-de-sac, was woken up by the orange haze floating through my windows. I called 9-1-1, the whole shebang, witness report and everything. I walked out of the house, with 9-1-1 still on the phone—and I couldn’t believe what happened next. The deranged neighbor fully confesses, all while they’re in earshot.
After a while and as the fire department shows up, she realizes her mistakes. One: she lit a house on fire, and two: she lit the wrong house on fire. She's being charged with arson and the like, and everyone got out. There’s a mother, father, and two kids who are high schoolers. It still feels surreal.
19. Blood Isn’t Always Thicker Than Water
I'm an IT engineer with terrible family relationships. I did cut off my father and my uncles and aunts, yet I keep in contact with my cousins and their children, who somehow I treat as mine. I had none and I'm an only child, therefore they're the closest I got. I always prioritized success over relationships so I'm single, and through the years I felt that my cousins' children weren't mine therefore I wanted to raise one of my own.
It took me some time, but finally, I adopted an 8-year-old kid, as those usually age out of foster care. I love the experience of raising a kid, yet I have had to deal with some entitled behavior from my cousins. Every now and then I spend some money traveling with my cousins and their children, yet this year, for obvious reasons I need to save money in order to get all of the stuff my son would need.
I'm planning on going big and getting the best of the best that I could afford. I just explained this to my cousins and told them this year our trip together will be canceled. They said nothing so I thought they understood the whole situation. Anyway, I wanted my kid to socialize with my cousins' children so I invite them all to a get-together party (after about two months, when my son felt comfortable enough).
Somehow, all of the kids were so mad and refused to play with my kid. He just sat in a corner and tried to not cry, but he did. I talked with the kids and they said he was not part of the family and they deserve more, as he is adopted and they, as my family, were entitled to the trip to the parks in Florida. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was in total shock, but managed to ask them where they got that from.
They told me how their parents have told them the reason why I took away their trip was my son, who comes from the streets and isn't even family. I was fuming, so I told them all to leave. I had a Zoom meeting with just my cousins who all told me that their children must come first, and I told them they made me realize my son comes first, so I canceled their college funds, their private school tuitions, and just told them that if my kid is not part of their family, neither am I.
I cut them all off. I have been called unreasonable, but I think my son comes first and I made the right decision.
20. More Than A Pain In The Back
A friend came over for a sleepover and didn't inform me that she had "back pain". At the last minute, she told me that she can't sleep on the couch due to her back pain, so she needs to sleep in my bed. I didn't want to be rude, so I said yes, and I ended up sleeping on the couch. I don't know about y'all, but I find that asking to sleep in someone else's bed when you're at their house is impolite.
The next day, I had planned to go see my boyfriend in the afternoon, which is why I had asked my friend to leave in the morning. When it came close to 1 pm, I asked her when she thought she'd leave because I had other plans today. Her answer made my blood boil. She said, "Oh, but I start work at 2 pm and the place is closer to your house than mine, so I'll leave at 1:30 pm".
I'm not a hotel, and even they have checkout times! Another thing: During her stay at my house, we went to the nearby Dollarama so she could buy a gift for her mom. When we were heading back to my house, she wanted to charge me $5 for gas. The ride wasn't worth more than $1 and I only came in her car because she had asked me to.
21. Doggone It
My neighbors let their children scream like they are in unbearable agony. My service dog doesn't like it and will bark three short alert barks at them. And honestly, I didn’t stop him. It scares the kids a little to hear the dog, but they finally stop screaming once they hear it. These kids will literally scream high pitch like they are having their limbs sawed off.
So yeah, when I hear this and my dog hears this he starts to get visibly concerned. He thinks tiny humans are hurt and I think genuinely wants to make sure they are okay. So usually while this is happening, I let him out, he runs to the shared fence, does a few barks until the kids stop screaming, then he stops and lays down next to the fence.
In my opinion, my dog does a better job at moderating the kids than their own mother does. Anyways, this happened again this morning, my dog does his thing, the kids stop. But then I hear one start to cry. This was the beginning of my nightmare. Their mom comes over to my house furious. I answer the door politely and ask what’s the problem.
She says my dog scared her kids and I responded with "Oh, well he was concerned. Your children were screaming extremely loud and it sounded like they were hurt. They scream quite often in fact". She gets angrier and basically says they are kids being kids. I say "No mam, I am a kindergarten teacher and a mother myself—your kids are being excessively loud to the point where it's concerning the neighbors with their screaming”.
She got super angry and said they weren't screaming that loud, to which I responded I can show you my porch ring if you'd like. You can't see your yard but you can definitely hear the noises your children make". It took a bad turn. She then threatened to have my dog taken away. He is a seizure alert dog trained by the academy near here and I have his actions directly on tape.
He simply did three short barks, kind of like "stop it," then laid down. Not a threat at all. I told her she could try, but also maybe work on her kids not sounding like they are in a Saw film. She left more angry than when she arrived. I went ahead and made a call to the local dog trainer to let them know in case this lady makes a false claim against my dog.
Thank God for ring cameras set up everywhere so my husband can monitor my seizures, because I can validate my dog’s whereabouts at any time.
22. The Good Father
I used to work in a small chain of bookstores/stationery shops. We’d sell books, pens, paper, and so on. It was a quirky little store, straight out of a romantic love novella. This happened a few years ago and I’m reconstructing it from my memory. This entitled mother walks into the store with her little girl. It’s rather early in the morning.
The mom looks around and asks me if I could watch her child. Me: “Oh no, I’m terrible with children, sorry.” She tells me that it’s not for that long and I shouldn’t be such a fuss about it. I still politely refuse. It’s not my job to watch children, and I’m afraid to do something wrong. What happens? She leaves the store, and who do I find hidden in the corner?
The little girl who seems to be rather shy and fearful. This happened back in a time before everyone had smartphones. The kid obviously didn’t have a mobile on her, and I suspected the mother also wouldn’t. Wasn’t too surprised that the girl didn’t know the number of their landline, either. I sigh. What are you gonna do? If something happens to that kid while being in the store and you being the only present employee, you’re gonna have a bad time.
I introduced myself, and asked her name. She told me it in full. Now this rang a bell. I had a good customer with the same surname. It turns out that it’s her dad. I didn’t get paid enough to babysit. In fact, I didn’t even get paid enough to do my normal work. I call her dad at his workplace since we saved that number in our system. The call went along those lines:
Me: “Hi, it’s bookstore XY.” Him: “Oh hi, how’s it going? I don’t remember having any open orders.” Me: “Yeah, erm, look, listen, do you have a daughter?” Him, confused: “Yes why do you ask?” When he finds out the story, he quickly apologizes for the woman’s behavior and tells me he’s gonna pick the kid up as soon as possible.
While waiting for him, I picked up one of our sale books, which was a picture book from Disney. The girl tries to read a little, I read a little. The dad arrives, and the girl runs to him and hugs him, crying that mommy was mean to her. The dad soothes her and thanks me for babysitting her. He gives me a bottle of red and buys something small from the store.
Him: “If the mom shows up again, could you not tell her that I picked up our daughter?” Me: “What. Why?” Him: “If you don’t feel like it you don’t need to. It’s rather complicated and you already did so much for us.” He leaves. In the evening, the mother shows up. Just to point out—she dropped the girl at about 09:00.
It was 5:45. A whole freaking day. Her: “Where’s my daughter?” This is where I get my revenge. Me: “Your WHAT?” Her: “My daughter. I dropped her in this store and you were here.” Me: “YOUR WHAT?” Now she was on the edge. Thus I did what I thought was the smartest thing to do. Me: “A guy came into the store and picked her up. He seemed nice. Gave me some gifts for her.”
At this point I expected her to attack me, but she just left the store. A few weeks pass and the dad and girl come to the store, both happy to see me. The dad asks me if I’ve got a few minutes. An excuse not to work? Obviously I took the time for…customer service. I gave the girl the same book we read the last time and had a talk with him.
The whole story was a doozy. The mom and dad were in the middle of a divorce when she dropped the girl at our store. One of the reasons he wanted a divorce was because the mom “wasn’t nice” to the girl. Now, in my country as a man it’s rather hard to get custody for your child. No matter what. So the mom dropping the girl in our store was a gift of the heavens.
The dad took the daughter to his sister’s overnight, and the mom pretended that she was sleeping at one of her friend’s. The dad wanted to call them just to ensure that she is fine. When he did and the friend didn’t know where the girl was (obviously), the dad faked panic and involved the police. Meanwhile, the mom starts insisting that the friend must have kidnapped the girl.
The dad had proof of it being otherwise since he already called the authorities when he dropped his daughter at his sister’s house. In court, the dad apparently said something like, “She can have all she wants, even my wine collection. I just want to be with my daughter.” The daughter ended up with him, with the mother paying alimony.
When the mother dropped the daughter off at my store, she was shy, seemed small, and now she has such a big smile on her face and is curious about everything. She seemed like a bird taking off to fly towards the sun. I absolutely hated my job, but situations like these make me a little bit nostalgic.
23. The Cycle Continues
My uncle is a real piece of work. The scummiest human being I believe I will ever know. The most messed up thing he's done is actually a cycle that he's repeated far too many times; start a family, then run. He'll convince these women he's a good guy/has changed/is a victim/was in the wrong place wrong time or whatever, gets them pregnant, and leaves once the baby is out.
And then, after he leaves, he's always desperate for money, so he does something awful to family members to get out of there. He’s stolen my dad's identity, opened new credit cards, attempted to transfer the bank card to his name and drain it. He’s taken a business loan with his first son, taken it all, and dipped. To top it all off, sometimes he goes back to the women after the kid is popped out to manipulate them into hooking up with him again.
He’s been behind bars so many times I’ve lost count, and I wish that he would just sit in there and rot. Every couple of years, I have reached out, saying they're part of Aaron's family with so and so and they want to meet their extended family, and we're like who? You hate Aaron? Yeah, us too. Welcome to the family. I know three freaking Aaron Jr's with different moms named after the same jerk.
To my knowledge, he's up to five families. Three of those have two kids. Zero of those are kids he's raised. He's currently "missing," so following the cycle, he's gonna pop up again soon, with some woman, either pregnant or with child, and be like OMG I got my life together fam! Come here, let's be friends. Then he’ll do some slimy stuff to try to get money from someone.
24. Queen Of The Karens
Long ago, I worked for one of those bulk warehouse club stores. My trade was simple: I was a wrangler of the silver buffalo, and dutifully retrieve the ol' shopping carts I did. The job in and of itself wasn't the worst I'd ever had; I got plenty of exercise, got to be outside, and generally didn't have to interact with the “members” (calling them customers was taboo) for the most part.
For the most part. The thing about this job is that the company I worked for had a reputation for being cheap. Thusly, more often than not, I was on my own out in the parking lot. "Big whoop," you might say. "You gathered carts? You should see how hard MY job is!" Yeah, well... Shut up. This is my story, jerk-o. I digress.
The reason that being alone sucked is that this store didn't have just one kind of cart. Heck, they didn't even just have TWO kinds of carts. You had your classic garden variety cart, the kiddie-cart with the plastic facade to make it resemble a car, the electric scooters (which weren't supposed to leave the store, but did so with alarming frequency), and finally, the bulky, hard-to-control flatbeds.
On top of that, whenever someone needed help loading their haul into their minivans, I was the guy they called. You know, because the greeters, cashiers, and managers were all busy. As you might expect, one man cannot be in multiple places at once, and as a result, on some of our busier days, it became incredibly difficult to keep enough carts in the vestibule. Our story begins on one of these days...
So there I was, chugging along like a good worker drone, struggling to keep up with the sheer volume of people coming in to buy cheap bulk goods. Sure enough, I get a call on the radio: Manager - "[sktchh] We need you to help some members load their purchases. [sktchh]" Me - "Uh, I'd love to, but I'm barely able to keep up out here as is..."
Manager - "[sktchh] Just do it. You can afford to stop gathering carts for two minutes. [sktchh]" *Ron Howard voice* - "He couldn't." However, I didn't want to push my luck, so I complied. After spending 20 minutes loading people's purchases because when one person needs it, suddenly they ALL need it, I came back to find my vestibule a near-ghost town, save for a single line of carts that was half-gone, and...the Karen.
I won't waste time describing this specimen. She was the prototype. You know what she looked like. There she stood, menacing, tapping her foot with such speed that it could make any metal drummer green with envy. You could collect the contempt in her gaze in a jar. Karen - "Where are the big flat ones?" I blanked for a moment. Me - "I'm sorry?"
Karen - "Ugh. Mexicans..." For the record, I'm very much white. Karen - "WHERE. ARE. THE. FLAT ONES." Me - "Oh, you mean the flatbeds. I'm sorry, I was just helping some other members load their merchandise and haven't had a chance to—" Karen - "OH MY GOD, I don't care about your excuses, you have ONE JOB, and a TRAINED. MONKEY. Could do it!"
I just want this lady out of my face, so I don't fight it. Me - "Sorry ma'am. I'll grab one from the parking lot for you..." Karen - "You'd better..." So I go back out to the lot and find a whole line of flatbeds sticking out of a corral blocking several parking spaces. I push them all into the vestibule where she waits, huffing about how I'm wasting her valuable time.
I separate one from the rest and bring it to her. Me - "I'm terribly sorry about the wait, ma'am." She leers at me with utter malice. Karen - "Hmmph. Unbelievable..." And with that, she dismisses herself into the store, where she will be someone else's problem. I shake my head and return to doing what I'm paid to do. I wish I’d never seen her again…but I did.
About 15 minutes later, I'm returning a line of carts when I see her pushing her flatbed to her Miata and jawing about “stupid people” (most certainly referring to me) on her cell phone. You know what she had bought? What she had insisted on having a flatbed for? A cake. This wasn't even like, a big cake. It was one of those little circular numbers.
Anyways, I witness as she continues to yammer on about how I nearly ruined—RUINED I TELL YOU—her precious baby's birthday party, when the most glorious thing happened. Still clutching her phone with those jai-alai scoop claws of hers, she attempts to pick up the cake with one hand, the plastic topper pops off, and she spills the cake all over her undoubtedly expensive designer outfit.
Seething with white-hot rage, she locks eyes with me. Karen - "YOU! GET ME ANOTHER CAKE! NOW!" Me - "Terribly sorry ma'am. I've got one job, and these carts won't gather themselves." I walked away, grin plastered on my face as her shrieks faded into the distance behind me. I've had my share of nasty customer interactions before, but this one...Really took the cake.
25. A Light At The End Of The Tunnel
I am a 28-year-old woman who just recently went fully blind. When I was a teenager, I volunteered with my local youth group to help rebuild Mississippi after hurricane Katrina, and while down there I picked up a fungal parasite called Histoplasmosis that, over a decade, migrated to my eyes and slowly caused blindness. I've been totally blind for about a year now, so I'm pretty new to it.
When I first went blind, I barely left the house and was afraid to go in public. I felt like everyone was staring at me and in all honesty, I barely knew what I was doing. The transition had been difficult and I didn't have any support group to teach me. One day my husband asks if I can take an Uber down to the bank and deposit a rent check and I reluctantly agree.
While out, he messages again and reminds me that we're out of a few crucial groceries. There was a Wal-Mart grocery literally across the street from the bank, so I figure everything in life is an experience and I'll have to learn how to shop alone eventually, so why not. Everything was fine at first and I was only grabbing a few things so I didn't need a cart.
I was using my cane and what little echolocation skills I had at the time to get around, but was still bumping into things as we blind tend to do sometimes. My cane suddenly hit something a bit softer and I figure maybe I had whacked someone's leg and apologize. Cue Entitled Kid (EK) and Entitled Mother (EM). Me: Shoot, I'm sorry—
EM: Hey! You just hit my son!! Me: I'm so sorry, ma'am, I didn't see him there. EM begins yelling: HOW COULD YOU NOT SEE HIM, HE'S CLEARLY RIGHT HERE!! Now, again, I'm fully blind, but I don't wear sunglasses. Mostly because I can’t afford a good UV blocking pair, but also I'm not ever looking for pity or to ''play the part'' of a generic blind person.
I just want to be treated like a normal person, but I do understand her confusion as blindness is a spectrum, so I try to calmly explain. Me: Ma'am, I'm blind, I can't see anything, let alone your son. That's why I have to use the cane, so I can get around without— She cuts me off: If you're blind, why aren't you wearing big sunglasses?
As a blind person, I get a lot of stupid questions, but I understand a lot of them are just people who don't know better, so I try to happily answer as many as I can. Me: Those are really expensive (around $200 for a good pair), and I really don't need any inside. Here is where my blood starts to boil. EM: You're not blind, you're faking it!
I can't think of any reason someone would want to pretend to be blind, and nothing makes me angrier more than when someone calls me a liar when I'm not. Just as I'm about to respond, I feel a tug and before I blink, I realize this little demon spawn has snatched my $100 cane from my hands. For those of you who don't understand, that's like if you're shopping and suddenly the power goes out and you can't see a single light.
Without my cane, I can barely move at all without crashing into anything. My voice gets shaky as I begin to panic: Please give that back! I REALLY DO NEED IT!! EM: No you don't, you liar. My son deserves to play with this more than you! I hear her shuffle away and my expensive cane cracking into metal displays and such as they leave.
I start crying and waving my arms in front of me to grab onto something, anything, and end up crashing and falling into a center aisle display, making a loud scene. I somewhat curl into a ball and cry. I'm alone in public, in the dark, and I had no idea what to do. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and a man's voice. We'll call him AG for awesome guy.
He asks if I'm okay and to stay right here. I do, but begin to at least sit up and listen. This man must have been tall and built like a tank because his footsteps sounded like a giant and I felt a suction of wind when he took off. Maybe about 30 or 40 feet away, I hear this loud bellowing like an angry lion and a loud crash, then before I know it the man is back and helping me to my feet.
He takes my hand and puts my cane into my palm and helps me pick up the items I dropped when I fell into the display. Me wiping tears from my cheeks: Thank you, thank you so much, I didn't know how to handle that. AG: Don't worry about it, some people are just monsters. This guy restored my faith in humanity and even helped me finish shopping and helped me out of the store.
As we're leaving, I can hear the familiar screeching of EM, something about AG grabbing the cane and pulling hard, flinging her little devil child into a shopping cart. I don't know if she was exaggerating or not but it would explain the crash I heard. It's easy to feel alone in a world without sight, but even through the sheer terror of being stripped of my cane, at least I know now that there are people willing to stand up for me when I need it.
26. A Beautiful Thing
So, back in high school one of my closest friends got pregnant and gave birth to the sweetest baby boy. She stopped going to school for a while to take care of her kid, but still did online school so she could graduate with her class. One thing we would do is go to one of the local food places near the high school on Fridays. On this particular day, we decided to go to this nice Chinese place that I frequent regularly.
The little old Asian lady knows me by name. This Chinese place has a sticker on the front door that says something like "Breastfeeding will always be allowed," which is great since that's what my friend is more comfortable doing for her baby. After we ordered our food, we hung out in this little waiting area when the baby gets all fussy.
She takes out the little cover and covers her baby and her chest as she starts to feed him. We keep talking until this woman and her son, who had to be around 10, comes in. I recognize the kid as one of the kids I looked after when I use to volunteer at a youth center. He comes up to me and starts talking to me, and then asks my friend what she’s doing with the baby.
Before my friend could answer, the boy’s mother cuts in. "A disgusting thing is what she’s doing. Don’t you know better than to do that in public? And why are you even doing that if you're only a kid?" My friend has an attitude sometimes, so I try to jump in before she would start to throw things. "It’s not disgusting, and the owner, Mrs. L is fine with it. She has a sticker on the door."
Mrs. L was just ogling the baby a second ago. She smiles at us and continues to write some stuff down. The mother wasn’t happy about this and continues with her rant. "I'm sorry but I'm just not okay with a baby breastfeeding another baby. Can you please just stop," she says in frustration. Mrs. L finally cuts in and in her broken English, she says, "Nursing baby is a beautiful thing. You have problem, you leave."
She then taps the order on the window that leads to the kitchen and apologizes to my friend for the woman’s nasty behavior. She then looks at the boy who is still next to me and says jokingly, "Your mother, she dummy right?" This makes the boy laugh and the mother just grumble in her seat, trying to stay as far from us as she could.
When my friend finished and we grabbed our food, Mrs. L threw in an extra order of egg rolls, since they were my friend’s favorite.
27. Turns Out Indentured Servitude Isn’t Legal
My wife and I had just immigrated back to the US and needed jobs and a place to stay. We thought we'd struck gold when a fabulously wealthy woman hired me as a groundskeeper and maintenance guy and my wife as a cook and maid for her elderly parents. The pay was low, but part of it involved being able to live rent-free in the second house on the estate.
The elderly couple was extremely senile, but still the sweetest old folks you can imagine, it was a really nice property so for a few months, everything was great. Then about three months in, my wife noticed the pantry—which was itself bigger than our living room—was not being re-stocked by the grocery delivery company that normally did these things.
We contacted our employer—and her reaction was bone-chilling. She flew into a rage that managing that sort of thing was our responsibility so she had canceled the delivery service without telling us. It became apparent that she fully expected us to notice and take care of it ourselves. When I asked her how she expected us to buy groceries for her parents when she didn't even tell us she had canceled the service, she became extremely irate.
Direct quote: "Then what do I sign a check to each of you every week for?!" Yeah. This woman earnestly thought we should be using our personal paychecks, which were NOT very big, to pay for her parent's upkeep. After much deliberation, she begrudgingly left us a credit card to go out and buy groceries for her parents, which added to our workload at no extra pay, but we didn't have anywhere else to stay and no other job lined up so we just dealt with it.
Well, another few months go by and she contacts us again, she wants us to sign something. The paperwork shows up and it's requests for medical documentation from an insurance company. The chick wants us to attach our timesheets to it, sign it, and send it back to the insurance company. Well, I read it and it becomes apparent she has elder-care insurance to pay for live-in nursing services and has told them we are nurses so she can try to get them to pay our wages.
I contact her and inform her that we have not provided medical care, are not licensed to, and will not fill out the paperwork. Cue the mother of all tantrums. Karen goes nuts screaming into the phone about how much she has done for us and we owe her, how she will report that we are neglecting her parents, and then call immigration on us and have us “sent back to where we came from”.
I don't think she ever realized I am a citizen and my wife immigrated legally. I tell her that what she is asking us to do is against the law, and that I'd rather get fired than get caught. I tell her she has 90 days to find a replacement for us and we will be moving out. Things devolve into her screaming about how much money she has and how she is besties with the authorities and has a bunch of expensive lawyers to sue me with.
I suggest she asks one of those lawyers how they feel about defending her for insurance fraud and hang up. My wife and I continue our services for the old folks while looking for a new place, because they were actually super nice and the situation wasn't their fault. They were also VERY senile, mistaking us for other people they knew, forgetting they had kids, etc. etc., so they can't be held accountable for their daughter's behavior as they lack any ability to intervene.
Then, instead of a paycheck, I get a bill for the last eight months of rent and a note that she isn't paying our wages until we "pay her back for everything we owe her. Plus interest." She had valued the rent of the second house provided in our contract at more than she paid us monthly, so we'd never actually be able to pay it off. Yeah.
This woman actually tried to make us into indentured servants. So, without responding I continue performing my duties. I studiously kept logs on our hours, and retained all the "receipts" for how much more we owed her. 90 days go by without a paycheck. We purchased groceries using the card she provided, which she added to our "debts."
We document EVERYTHING. That’s when we really began to enact our plan. About a week before the 90 day, we contact two government agencies. First, the state department of labor to report exploitation, second, adult protective services to inform them that an elderly couple that requires caretaking are going to no longer have caretakers and that their daughter has refused to provide it.
Then we call her and inform her she is going to be receiving some phone calls from these agencies shortly and should probably contact her attorney. There was about a 60-second silence on the phone, then this deranged laughter, and she hung up. Okay...not the response I expected but whatever, one more week, and we're gone.
Eight hours later she shows up in the driveway in a rental car. This woman bought a one-way plane ticket to come out to the estate and report us to the authorities for trespassing on the property. This, of course, doesn't work because we have a tenancy contract and if she wants us gone she has to utilize the official eviction process.
She then tries to claim we are aliens, which a quick glance in our wallets at our IDs by the authorities proves false. She is starting to shriek at them about if they know who she is or how expensive her lawyers are. The officers look that unique combination of irritated and amused. They advise her not to talk to us or attempt to enter or go near the guest house.
She moves in to their house that night and presumably takes over our duties. I would go out on the balcony every day for the week before I left to drink my coffee, and smile as I stared across the big, luxurious lawn to see her standing in the picture window, arms crossed, glaring at me. To make a long story short, the expensive lawyers she has convince her to pay our back wages with additional interest for violating state labor laws by withholding them.
28. Uninvited Guests
I was a kid and invited another kid to my house when we were around 10 years old. When he showed up, I couldn't believe my eyes. He brought like four or five family members with him. None of them were parents, just siblings and cousins. They stayed just a few minutes, said they had to leave, and insisted on knowing the way out themselves.
That was that. Or so I thought. About 2-3 minutes pass, I go to the kitchen for some water, and they're all still in my house hiding behind the counters and swiping our silverware. The thing is my family was kinda poor and that was not real silver. They all scramble for the door, and the kid never really explained anything at school. Turns out they were poor too, just dumb kids as well.
29. Don’t Try Me
I live in a town center above a shop with two lovely neighbors. I'm lucky enough to have off-street parking. Over the past few months, someone who lives in a neighboring block of flats has taken it upon himself to park in our spaces. Basically, he moved into a rental property knowing it had no parking and recently dropped $12k on a flashy car.
Yes, we've told him he can't park there but as three single women (46, 60, and 83 respectively) he has used being a large male to try to intimidate my two older neighbors. He won't directly speak to me but does leave aggressive notes on my car. But I still had no idea what he was really planning. A couple of weeks ago, I had a call from the authorities.
They were requesting me to go to my local station for an interview pertaining to damage to his car. Off I trundle to the station, only to be confronted with CCTV and photographic evidence. Turns out, he installed a camera pointing at our property without our knowledge. Sucks to be him, though, because his camera gives a full view into my bedroom and my neighbor’s bathroom—strike one for him.
It did show that I walked past his car with a wheelie bin, apparently scratching his car. They showed me photos of damage to his car. There was just one thing. I pointed out that these were on the opposite side to where I passed. No evidence of damage I supposedly did. I had photos of his undamaged car—strike two for him. In his statement, he said he had it in writing from the owner that he could park there, but couldn't produce the letter.
I had an email from the owner saying he had no permission—strike three for him. I went to the station with the expectation that I would end up with a conviction. I left the station with him having a formal warning for misuse of CCTV and giving a false statement. Couldn't have gone better for me and now he has to find somewhere else to park.
30. Standing Up For The Little Guy
I was in line at Costco Gas. The lines are nuts because gas prices are nuts and Costco gas is cheap and convenient. Everyone is on edge. The Costco gas employees have to periodically sweep the lanes and clean up spilled gas. Just like at the registers when they close a line they stop people from lining up in that lane.
They finish the people currently in the queue and direct other customers into different lanes so they can cone off the lane and sweep. I’m pumping gas and see this go down. A woman drives around the cones and into the lane they are sweeping like she’s exempt from the process and is going to get gas. Employee guy jogs over and tells her in a normal tone, “Sorry ma’am, this lane is closed for the moment, can you please pull around into a different line”?
She says “Why”? He says “This lane is closed… (sees an empty spot not yet filled in the adjacent lane) you can go there”. And points. She starts screeching “You don’t have to talk to me that way! I don’t appreciate! Screech screech screech”! A guy gets out of the passenger seat. Employee guy is babbling and pointing and waving, points at cones, empty lane, broom.
Screeching lady turns into cursing lady and starts dropping expletives about how he can’t treat me this, and effing that. Passenger guy gives employee the finger. Employee is looking around because he’s in over his head. Cursing lady starts with the “Your manager is going to hear about this, you just lost your job, screech screech”! Gets in the car and peels out leaving. I knew what I had to do.
I finish pumping and go find a place to park. I google the store phone number and call. I hit the number to speak with a manager. I ask for the manager in charge of the gas station. “Sorry, he’s gone for the day. Can I leave a message"? Uhm… “Ok, can I tell you then? I just saw this whole thing go down. In a minute you’re going to get a call from a lady claiming she was just disrespected by a gas employee and complaining a storm. Let me tell you what actually happened from an objective observer because no way this guy did anything wrong and it’s going to come down to his word versus crazy lady”.
They replied: "Ok, thank you for the heads up, it’s nice to hear he was doing the right thing, and oh, actually your lady is on the phone with this other manager right here it sounds like, and I’ll pass along your message. Thanks for calling”.
31. (Don’t) Just Keep Swimming
So let me tell y’all about how this mother tried to have me be her free babysitter/lifeguard. We just got one of those above ground pools you set up yourself that is 4 feet deep and 14 feet round. We spent the majority of two days prepping and filling it and letting it warm. Finally yesterday it was ready, and my daughter asked if she could invite a little girl she is semi-friendly with from down the street to come swim with her.
Since they are eight and they are tall enough to stand with heads above water, I said ok. Well, her little friend brought her toddler sister, who is probably on the younger side of two. definitely too small to stand with her head above the water. I tell the friend that her little sister can’t get in the water unless her mom is here to watch her, and send her home with the message. They both come back and she says, “Mom said she’s fine in her float and I can watch her.”
And I said “No it’s not fine, I don’t think an eight-year-old is responsible enough to watch a toddler in a pool, and I am not going to be the one watching her either. You need to tell your mom either she comes to watch your little sister or she is not getting in the pool.” They both go home and then BOTH COME BACK!! At this point I am livid.
I walk back to their house with them and pound on the door. No answer. I keep knocking, and then the garage door starts to open with this woman backing her car out!! I quickly went and stood at the end of the driveway with all the kids in tow, both of hers and both of mine. She gets out of her car all angry and asks me what my problem is?!
I tell her my problem is that I’m not her babysitter, and that I am definitely not going to be responsible for keeping her baby from drowning in MY swimming pool on MY property! Her reaction was chilling. She then proceeds to start baby-talking her own kids, saying, “I’m so sorry babies the mean lady isn’t going to let you swim, I’m so sorry princesses” and on and on. Of course, the toddler bursts into tears, and then the mother screams at me.
“Look what you’ve done!! You’ve made her cry and ruined her day! Hope you are proud of yourself!! She then snatches up the little sister, who is screaming, tosses her in the car, and screams at the friend to get in too. The friend is red in the face, and you can tell she is so embarrassed. She just mumbles sorry while climbing in the car. The mother then proceeds to peel out of her own driveway and we walk back home. Witch.
For what it’s worth, I was NOT planning on leaving the kids wholly unattended. I was right beside the pool doing yard work and planned on continuing once all the kids were in the pool. I just did not want to watch a small toddler in the pool, as she would require extreme supervision. Like sitting and staring directly at her kind of supervision.
32. The Hosts With The Most (Problems)
I stayed in a home with three other girls while we did work for the church. While it was very generous of the host family to have us…They sold Amway, so we had to sit through a sales pitch one night. We slept in the basement on the floor, which was carpeted but infested with fleas from their numerous dogs.
One night for entertainment, we made balls of dog hair and watched to see how many fleas hopped on it. Answer: A lot. When they were finished cooking a meal, they left any leftovers in the pan until the next meal and then they just heated them up. So last night's burger had been sitting on the stove for 24 hours, reheated and served again. Is that even a thing?!
33. One At A Time, Please
My stepbrother and his girlfriend of three years were getting married. His girlfriend just happens to be my best friend, so I was extremely excited for them. I was chosen to be the maid of honor and my biological brother was the best man. We were all that close—except for one other person in the wedding party. That would be my stepbrother’s best friend. He's the worst guy I've ever met.
I never really liked him because he was a total creep and always tried to hit on me when my stepbrother wasn't there. My stepbrother is quite protective, so I never told him—if I had, he would have been absolutely furious. Also, I can stand up for myself. Anyway, once this friend FINALLY got a girlfriend he stopped annoying me. Well…temporarily.
During the planning of the wedding, nothing crazy happened apart from the normal wedding stress. We invited almost everyone we knew. It was going to be great—or so we thought. The big day arrives and everyone is ecstatic. The ceremony was beautiful and everything went wonderfully. Then the reception came. It got off to a good start—then it took a turn.
The groom and bride plus the bridesmaids and groomsmen were all seated at a table at the front of the venue, while the guests were sitting in front of us, so they were facing our table. Everyone was giving speeches and enjoying the food. Then, out of nowhere, my stepbrother’s best friend stands up, takes the mic, and says he has something important to say.
We're all confused, as he had finished his speech, but let him talk. I wish we hadn't. He asks his girlfriend to come up to the table. I already knew where this was going. He starts a speech about how much he loves her and how they were meant for each other. She's smiling but I think she didn't want this to happen NOW, of all the times.
He then kneels down and pull a ring out of his pocket and asks her to marry him. She say yes. They start running around showing people the ring all the while the bride—my best friend—looked like she was going to cry. My stepbrother and brother were whispering to each other. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Finally, my mom gets up to remind everyone that this was her son's wedding and that we should stop talking about someone else's engagement.
Everyone was quiet. Suddenly, we hear this banshee scream. The girlfriend started screaming and crying saying MY MOM HAD RUINED HER SPECIAL DAY. Then my stepbrother’s “best friend” began screaming at us too, claiming that he did nothing wrong. They got kicked out in the end. My brother lost his best friend that day—but he didn't really care. That idiot lost all his friends.
34. Karens Gonna Karen
My wife needed a few things from the grocery store and on this particular day I happened to be available and I offered to go for her. She works hard and does a lot, so I definitely felt it was necessary to do something for her so she could just relax for the day. I took my stepson with me so she could rest up and just take it easy. I thought it would give me time to spend with him for some bonding—but instead, we both got an afternoon we’ll never forget.
We completed all of the errands, which went smoothly, and then headed to the grocery store to finish up our day. My son, being a typical four-year-old, was full of energy running ahead of me laughing and speaking to everyone he comes across, which I generally don’t mind as long as he doesn’t hit anyone and stays within eye view. As I’m making my way down an aisle looking for canned corn, my son jogs to the end of it when an older lady is entering at the other end.
My son, being the sweet social butterfly he is, approached and exclaims an excited “Hi! Me four and me Ryan”! Bless his little heart. The lady looked down and says “Well hello there. You shouldn’t be running around unattended, let’s go find your parents”. I didn’t think anything of her statement because I assumed she just hadn’t seen me.
“Ryan! Come back here bud, please”! He excitedly runs back toward me and starts turning in circles because you know, he’s four lol. I’m still searching the shelves as the lady walks past me and stops behind me. Again I think nothing of it because it’s a grocery store and you have to share the aisles. I turn my basket around and start to walk toward the front cash registers when this lady literally blocks my path.
I say excuse me and try to walk around her and she moves her cart in front of me again. I honestly thought she was just getting confused and said excuse me once again and tried one more time to go around and she just blocks my path. The following conversation ensues. Me: “Um, sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way”. Lady: “Oh, I don’t think so! You’re not going anywhere with that child”!
Me: “You mean my son”? Lady: “That’s not your child! He’s white! And you’re Mexican. You probably didn’t even know his name until he said it to me”! Me: “Sure, whatever lady, can you just move? My wife is at home and anxiously awaiting for us”. Then, she upped the ante. She said: “Stop your lies. You’re not taking him anywhere, you pervert”!
This whole time my son is standing close to me holding my leg because he was honestly getting scared. I was getting angry because I hadn’t had much sleep and I have a short fuse anyway. Me: “As you can see he’s standing close to me because he trusts me and you’re scaring him so how about you buzz off”? Lady: “No! He’s scared because of you! He just doesn’t know how to express it yet”.
She looks at my son. Lady: “Come on now sweetie, I’m here to rescue you. Come with me”. Thankfully my son was able to communicate to her he wasn’t going anywhere with her. But she was having NONE of it. I still get mad when I think of what she did next. She literally grabbed my son and began to run. It caught me off guard because I honestly could not fathom what was actually happening.
My son starts screaming loudly because he was so scared and this lady is just like “Don’t worry sweetie he won’t hurt you I promise”! Suddenly I snap back into reality and I begin to chase after this crazy witch. While running through the store, I yell for people to stop her and that she’s kidnapping my son and thankfully a worker stops her before she makes the exit.
Lady: “Why are you stopping me? This Mexican here is trying to take my grandson”! My son literally is bawling his eyes out and extending his arms out calling for me. This lady was relentless and would not let go until my son even after he slapped her face multiple times. I laughed a little, not gonna lie. At this point, a manager shows up and asks what’s going on.
The lady spoke before me, saying: “This (pointing at me) pervert is kidnapping my grandson and I was just trying to escape”! I said: “That’s my son you freaking psycho. Now let him go”. The manager didn’t know what to believe. I don’t blame him, he was caught in a weird situation. So I pulled out my phone and showed him pictures of me and my son that dated a year or so back as proof. Her response was infuriating.
This lady still would not give up and accused me of faking them. Like how would you do that exactly? I’ll never know, but whatever. Sadly, there were two other ladies there taking the psycho’s side and said I was attempting to take my own son because there was no way we were family because of our different skin tones. One even called the authorities, which I was actually happy about because I knew they’d be able to review the security cameras.
Even still, I called my wife to see if she could come to the store to get this situation cleared up quicker. As soon I told her what was going on, she zoomed to the store. She got there about the same time as the officers. The crazy ladies were giving their statement to the officers when my wife walked in. As soon as she walked in, my son goes “Mama help”! My wife is a true mama bear and she immediately flew into a rage when she saw this lady holding my son.
She yelled: “Let him go NOW”! The lady said, “Sorry sweetie, I was just trying to protect him from this pervert over here”. Another one piped up, “Yeah we saw him kidnapping him but this lady saved him”! The cop looks at the lady and is confused. He asks: “I thought this was your grandson”? My wife said: “I have no idea who that lady is”.
She takes out her phone and shows the officer a picture of my mother-in-law. Finally, the lady fesses up. “Okay, I’m sorry he’s not my grandson but I was only trying to protect him from this dirty pervert over here”! The other lady said, “Yeah I witnessed the whole thing, he snatched that child and tried to run away with him but this lady stopped it”!
As if that wasn’t bad enough, there was another one. She said: “Yes I saw it too. He needs to be taken away. And you (pointing to my wife) should be thankful that this lady was here to save your son because you obviously just let him loose wherever”! My wife says: “Who are you talking about again”? All three crazy ladies pointed at me. My wife replies: “Oh you mean my husband”?!
The ladies were shocked. They said “Husband?!”?! My wife said, “Yeah who do you think called me and got me here so fast”?! I presented my ID to the officer and the manager and my wife did the same. We also each showed pictures of us on our phones to prove we were really a family. The cop nodded in approval and handed us our phones back and jotted down a few notes.
The three ladies for some reason still kept trying to say this was all fake and my wife was in on the kidnapping and said we needed to be detained. My wife lost it at this point and let off some colorful words I won’t repeat here but she definitely got her point across. Then the nail in the coffin came for the psycho trio. The office turned to the manager and asks: “Sir, do the cameras work here”? The manager says yes, and the officer asks to review them.
The three ladies' faces went pale. Like ghostly pale. The officer reviewed the outside camera as I pulled into the parking lot and saw me take my son out of my car and then as I went up and down the aisles and most importantly the instance the woman snatched up my son and began to run. Upon his return, he asks “Would you like to press charges”? The lady pipes up: “Yes I would”!
The officer’s reaction was brutal. He looked at her and said: “Why would I be asking you that question? Shut your mouth and sit down”. He turns to me and repeats the question. I said absolutely. Lady one was charged with attempted kidnapping, false imprisonment, providing a false report, and child endangerment. The other two were also charged with providing a false report as well.
To make matters worse for the first lady, my son bruises easily and she left some terrible spots on him from where she was grasping him—but he’s fine! This added a charge of child abuse to her rap sheet. The officer will be following up with me in a few weeks.
35. Should’ve Laid Off The Bottle(s)
One day last week when I came home from work, I noticed my shed door was open and the padlock that I used to keep it shut was broken. And I had a LOT of bags full of soda cans in there. Me and my friends tend to drink a lot of soda, so I've built up a lot of cans over the course of about a year. And I was going to cash them in at the bottle drop soon, because I like big payouts. It's ten cents a can where I live after all.
But there was more than just my bags of cans missing from the shed too. They took my gardening shears, a steel rake, two shovels, a full two gallon gas can, a cheap power drill I got for like $5 used, an electric hedge trimmer, and a small electric chainsaw that was also used, and a machete. They didn't touch the lawn mower, weed whacker, extension cords, or the old radio I had in there.
No idea why they took what they did, but I guess they figured they could resell them or something. I checked my camera footage to see if I caught anything—and I made a disturbing discovery. There was my three nephews (ages 16, 15, and 14) breaking into my shed with one of their dad's large claw hammers. I recognized the hammer because it's bright yellow and black, and their dad has a bunch of them.
It only took them a few hits to smash that cheap lock. After they first broke into my shed, they took what they could by hand. And then they came back with some shopping. It took them a few trips to get all of the cans. And they didn't bother to even try and close the door when they were done. My sister and brother-in-law first denied their kids took anything from me.
So I went to their house and showed them the security footage from my cameras. I never told them I'd had cameras installed—and there’s a sad reason why. This wasn’t the first time my nephews robbed me. It started with food & snacks. And then moved on to DVDs and video games. Then pretty much anything they thought they could smuggle out after that.
Any time I made them return stuff they'd stolen from me, I was treated like the bad guy and then got the fakest apologies I've ever heard. And they never got in much trouble from their parents either. The final straw happened last year when my nephews broke into my house and took three six-packs of my favorite blood orange ale from my fridge.
But that’s not the worst part. They used my hidden spare key to get in, and also took a huge dump in one of my bathrooms and not only didn't flush, but also peed all over the floor. And I'm pretty sure it was intentional. The drinks they took were hidden in one of their bedrooms when I confronted my sister and brother-in-law about my nephews stealing it.
I was basically given an equivalent excuse to "Boys will be boys" when I wanted them punished. So I had the cameras put in and told no one. Which was a smart move. When my sister and brother-in-law saw the camera footage of my nephews stealing from me, they seemed furious. But they were actually madder that their boys skipped school to rob me.
They'd spent all day making repeated trips to the Bottle Drop and cashing the cans by machine. The bottle drop also pays by machine. So they just kept bringing the cans in till they cashed them all. And then they bought video games and junk food with the money. Said money actually amounted to nearly $200. With that and the destroyed padlock, I told my sister and brother-in-law that they now owed me $200.
My sister and brother-in-law went from being angry at their kids to making excuses for them, and then being angry at me for wanting that money back when I know they have three kids and a mortgage. I said it was either that or I go to the authorities and press charges. They told me to get out, and I said they have two days to decide how to pay me back before I go to the authorities.
I got back everything else my nephews took, machete and gas can included. Though they'd already used the gas for something. But over the next couple of days, my sister and brother-in-law were blowing up my phone with a ton of messages. Both verbal and text. At first they were calling me heartless because it was right after the holidays and they have three kids and a mortgage.
Then they started gaslighting me—and even threatening me. And all of this would go in a repeating cycle. My nephews chimed in from another cell phone and were sending me lots of messages of their own. Which were more fake apologies and gaslighting. My eldest nephew even sent me a picture of himself holding a soda can and giving me the middle finger.
So I guess they weren't taking my threats of going to the authorities seriously because "FAAAAMILY”!. When I last spoke with my sister and brother-in-law, they refused to negotiate any sort of method of repayment for what my nephews did. Even when I suggested they just sell the video games that were purchased with the money from the cans.
Then they had the audacity to say I'd actually tempted my nephews by having the cans in my shed to begin with. Oh yes. I'm the devil snake that tempted my nephews with a shed full of cans that just screamed "MONEY MONEY MONEY”! So that was it. I went to the station that morning and filed the report. Gave them a copy of the video footage of my nephews stealing from my shed.
I gave them the broken lock they smashed. Showed them all of the texts, which were screen-capped and also given as evidence. Heck, I even gave them a copy of the photo my eldest nephew sent me of him flipping me off. I did tell officers that I found it worrisome that my nephews had taken the machete. But they classified it as a tool. Especially since they took a lot of other actual tools. So fair enough on that, I suppose.
But my nephews were indeed caught and detained on Saturday. Officers came to their house and my sister and brother-in-law were forced to let them in because they had a warrant. Apparently, all three of my nephews went from being cocky little jerks to crying like babies when they were being put in cuffs. I know this because a neighbor I'm acquainted with that's sort of friends with my sister was there to see it.
It didn’t end there, though. Shortly after the arrest my sister and brother-in-law were blowing up my phone again. They weren't able to get their kids out till Monday morning. And now the boys are being charged with larceny, willful destruction of property/vandalism, and harassment. The authorities took this whole case pretty seriously as there have been complaints about my nephews for some time—but nothing was proven until now.
The past few months, bags of cans have actually been going missing all over the area. Don't know if it was my nephews or not. But they're likely suspects. And with word spreading of their arrest, let's hope other neighbors with security cameras come forward with more footage. My sister and brother-in-law showed up at my house too. I refused to open the door and told them that this all happened because they are enablers who refuse to hold their kids accountable for their actions.
That made them just scream and pound on my door more till I threatened to call 9-1-1 on them too. And since I've done it already, they know I mean it now. So they left without any more trouble. But they went back to blowing up my phone. I didn't block my sister or her husband. Instead I decided to just save all of the messages they send me because I've made the decision to take them to small claims court over this.
I don't really need or want the money, and have already replaced the destroyed padlock with a much better one. However, the kids aren't the only ones who need to be taught a lesson. In the end, I hope I put them in enough of a hole that they learn not to screw with me ever again. I also have the full support of my family on this. My parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.
They're all supporting me in this because my nephews have stolen from them too. And after banning my nephews from my house, some of them did the same.
36. Catfishing With Fire
Two friends I had in high school created a catfish account on Facebook to lead people on. They found a few pictures of some girl and began messaging people in our classes. When they told me about it, they were pretty excited and bragged about having guys from our classes go to the mall thinking some girl was waiting for them.
Well, one day they told me they had been talking to one of our close friends for a few weeks and I found it to be pretty messed up, because he had told us that he had met some girl he was pretty interested in. I told them it was a messed-up thing to do and was told that they didn't want me to tell him because they had a "date" set up for him.
I ended that friendship right there and immediately let him know what they had done.
37. Good Riddance
I live in a 20-unit complex, but only half of us have assigned parking spaces, me being one of the lucky ones. My car space is right next to my front door and there is a sign that clearly states that the car space is allocated to my unit number. But this doesn't stop some of my neighbors or their guests from parking there. That was ok enough to live with, but then it got bad fast.
A new person had only recently moved in when he started parking in my spot, usually for most of the day and occasionally overnight. I confronted him and asked him to not park there, as he didn't have assigned parking and was required to park on the street. When this request was ignored, I went to the landlord who then sent him a letter.
When this too was ignored, I thought of a petty revenge plan. He would park there around the same time in the afternoon and when he would leave his car there overnight he would leave around noon the next day. He was entitled but predictable. When I was a kid, I read books about practical jokes like putting double-sided tape on the toilet seat or baby powder inside a powdered donut.
This book brought me hours of joy by pranking my friends and my well-deserved entitled mother. While thinking of my plan, one of those jokes came to mind. So I went shopping to find what I needed. A roll of industrial-strength double-sided tape and a huge roll of bubble wrap with the really big bubbles. Now all I had to do was wait until he left his car parked in my spot overnight.
It didn't take long. I asked another neighbor if he'd like to be my partner, and as soon as I told her what I was planning, she was all in. There are lights outside the unit complex at night, so we could see what we were doing. Even so, they aren't bright enough to expose us. Perfect. In the cover of moonlight, we put double-sided tape all over the back tires of his car. But we weren’t done.
We proceeded to stick the bubble wrap in multiple layers on the back of each wheel. We wedged even more bubble wrap between the back of the front wheels and the car so that when he reversed his car, there would be even more bubble wrap he'd be driving over. The back bumper of his car was hiding most of the bubble wrap so it was very unlikely that he would notice anything out of the ordinary.
I have surveillance cameras outside of my unit with a large monitor inside and one of the cameras points directly at the car park, so I had a direct view of his car. The next day I kept an eye out for him. Sure enough, around noon I saw him walking to his car. Brilliant! He started his car and as he reversed out of my car space, there was the loudest and most deafening banging sound I've ever heard.
The noise was so loud that I could hear it clear as day from inside my unit. His reaction was priceless. I heard him scream and saw him duck down, as if the sound was real. It took him a few minutes to get out of his car to investigate what made the noise. When he did, all I could hear was him shouting inaudible sentences with multiple swears thrown in for good measure.
The other neighbors came outside to see what was going on, as did I. ME: (faking concern) "OMG what happened?" NEIGHBOR: "Who the heck did this????!" ME: "I have no idea”. See, I'm in a wheelchair and couldn't possibly be capable of doing such a horrible thing. He spent the next few hours trying to get the bubble wrap off his tires.
Remember when I said the tape was industrial strength? I'd gone out of my way to find tape that would NOT come off easily. Eventually he got it off but for the next few days his car made that sound like when you get chewing gum stuck under your shoe. He never parked in my car space again.
38. Now That’s The Tea
I work in the marketing department of a small-ish cosmetics company. I’m not what you would call “higher up” in the company, but I’m not entry-level either. Earlier today, I went into the office’s common area/kitchen to make a cup of tea (earl grey, if you care). A woman talking on a phone came into the room as I was waiting on the kettle to boil.
I recognize her as one of our new hires from sales. I doubt she’s been here long enough to get her first check. She was talking loudly, but I ignored her; it’s a somewhat loud office, so it isn’t a big deal for someone to make a little noise. A minute or so later, she says into the phone, “hold on, I need some privacy,” and then turns to me and says, “Excuse me, sorry, I’m on a private call, I need you to leave”.
I’m confused at first, then what she says registers. I get this surprised smile on my face, the kind that says “you joking, mate”? I tell her no. She gives me the look. Her mouth is open, eyes wide. How dare I use the common area for what it’s for. She doesn’t even say anything. I point to the kettle. I tell her I’m making tea.
She tells me that it is an important medical call. I tell her the kitchen isn’t a private room, and that she can go to an empty conference room or to her car if the matter is that sensitive. She says she doesn’t like the chairs in the conference room and that it’s too cold to walk out to her car. I shrug. She eventually gets that I’m not leaving until I’ve had my tea and she stomps off to a conference room.
I hate being a narc, but, for heaven’s sake, just let me make my tea in peace. So, I decide to walk down to sales and chat with her supervisor (whom I know fairly well). About the time I finish relaying the experience, the woman in question walks in, sees me, and stops. I point her out to the supervisor, pat him on the back, and walk back to my office. Good luck, newbie!
39. Eat My Dust
I recently had an emergency appendectomy, and recovery has been slow. I had to take time off from my own athletics, but worse, from coaching in the kid’s sports program I’m involved with. The experience made me step back and realize I really built my whole identity around being active and healthy, so the hit my physical abilities took as a result of being sick and the healing process has made me feel lost.
I’ve been working to regain the joy I used to experience from exercise, without going “Oh, you used to be so much faster with that,” or “Your technique used to be so much stronger,” or “You don’t fit in anymore,” or whatever else and just enjoy myself regardless of the level I’m at. But ironically, the anxiety about not being able to do what I used to has made regaining those abilities difficult.
It made me self-conscious about exercising in public spaces, but I was starting to finally get over it as friends convinced me the source of the concerns was all in my head. There’s no way to get back to it other than training, so despite the anxiety, I started running again, as soon as the doctors approved it. I went to the local track and just did a few slow laps each morning, building up speed every few days.
I’ve only just been authorized to add some sprints and bodyweight strength training to the mix. Occasionally there were other people at the track, but I didn’t really notice because I run with headphones on and try to zone out in these lighter sessions. But little did I know, my friends were wrong. It was not all in my head. I was being watched, and more than that, I was being judged.
This was my absolute catastrophe-level worst nightmare at this stage of building back my strength and speed. On Friday, I was setting up for practice at the kid’s program and the head coach asked me into his office because a parent had a complaint. A parent I didn’t know too well, Karen, was there and he said she had specific complaints about me.
I was a bit nervous, as anyone is being called to meet with their boss over a complaint, but I figured it was a classic case of “My kid should start more,” or “I know my kid tried out as a midfielder but I want him/her to switch to defense,” that kind of “rules don’t apply to me” thing. But instead, I sit down in the office, and Karen is playing my boss a video of me running on the track.
That she filmed from afar; it’s surrounded by stadium-style risers. I was horrified, both because no one is ever totally used to seeing themselves on video, and because I was just embarrassed about how slow I was. But most importantly because why was a virtual stranger (I’d met her personally maybe four times, ever) filming me while I ran on my own time at a private facility?
She then went on to explain that her eight-year-old son, one of the players on my squad, was lapping me in the video. She was insisting the coaches need to hold themselves to higher athletic standards than the young players if they want to prepare them for college teams. (Again, her son is eight.) Apparently, her son would sometimes be running on the track while her older child was practicing on a nearby field.
I never noticed, the kid is still relatively new, and again, I don’t pay much attention to the other people on the track. My boss patiently but firmly explained to Karen that my physical abilities are not the parents’ concern, and all personnel are closely managed by the head coaches who understand each unique situation and what’s appropriate, and that her son wouldn’t be impacted.
But she didn’t stop there. Karen then went on to say my being out of shape was probably connected to why I’d been taking so much time off lately. Uh... technically yes, it is, because I was in the hospital. She was complaining that the personnel changeover isn’t good for the kids. My boss again reiterated that the head coaches hadn’t changed or taken any time off and that I was still one of the most skilled in the area I instruct, so this was not her concern.
She asked if there was someone else she could speak to, but he explained that he was the owner and founder of this program, so, no there was not. I knew my boss was intentionally avoiding saying what had happened to me or even alluding to a health issue, to protect my privacy, but I figured maybe being transparent with her would show her how ridiculous she was being—and keep her tuition dollars in our program.
But when I explained, she just turned to the boss and said, “Well maybe you should furlough her until she’s healed and bring on a healthy coach in the meantime, because my son needs someone out there who can keep up with him.” My boss respected what I was trying to do, but made clear we weren’t going further with that strategy to avoid setting a precedent of sharing coaches’ personal circumstances.
Telling her why people take time off or what their health status may be is not her concern because the program manages that and makes appropriate decisions. She kept kicking up a fuss, but the coach finally told her he had to get back out on the field, back to her son and everyone else’s kids. She started physically leaving but continued fussing about how she was not satisfied and would not be recommending us to other parents.
Pro tip—this is not the way to conduct yourself with the people who make recommendations to scouts concerning family culture/team interaction. The coach wasn’t preparing to leave, instead, he stopped her in her tracks to tell her if she was found to be surveilling or otherwise harassing any staff members again, she would be perma-banned from the program.
No games or practices, no team social events, no presence in our buildings, and no clemency. So, that was pretty satisfying. Her son is a good, average, kid and I’m glad the consequences were focused on booting her out rather than limiting his opportunities to have fun playing. So then we went out and had a great, happy, safe practice.
This was still a pretty upsetting event for me personally though, and I’ll never unsee that discouraging video of me running, but it was ultimately reassuring to know the other staff has my back. Leaving Karen in the dust is just another step on my road to recovery!
40. An Unwelcome Visitor
Buckle up everyone for this bumpy ride. Okay, so I was chilling in my living room around 3 am playing some video games. My parents are out of town visiting some friends and I decided to stay home, house to myself and all. So here I am, in nothing but a bra and panties, when there's a knock on the door. "What the heck?” I think to myself.
I scramble to get my clothes on and I answer the door. It was a family acquaintance with her already whiny little brat. She's also visibly pregnant, and we'll get to why that part is important later. Me: Hey, what's going on? Her: My car broke down and the tow company can't come to get it until tomorrow, think me and my kid can crash here tonight?
Me: Sure, you guys can sleep in the living room. Once I let them in, I asked if she wanted anything and went to get the coffee she asked for. As I go get it, I see the little brat picking up my controller. Me: Hey little guy, please put that down. Her: Oh, can't he play a game? Me: Sorry, no. I'm in the middle of something, plus he wouldn't know how to play the type of game.
Her: But he reeealllly wants to, don't you? Him: I WANT TO PLAY!!!! Me: No, you can't play. Him: I WANT TO PLAY I WANT TO PLAY I WANT TO PLAAAAAAAAAAAAAY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. He then throws the controller at the TV, shattering the screen. Me: WHAT THE HECK? I rush over to the TV. Her: Hey! Don't you yell at my child! Me: YOU JUST LET HIM DESTROY MY TV LIKE THIS. Her: You're the one who didn't let him play the video game.
Me: I said no, and you have to teach your brat that he isn't owed ANYTHING. Her: How dare you! Just wait until I tell your mother about how you treated him, you'll make a terrible mom. Me: I'm not having kids, but if I did I wouldn't let them be spoiled little brats! Her: YOU are being the brat right now! Just get a new TV and quit whining.
Me: Yeah, I'll get a new TV with the money you pay me for the broken one. Her: WHAT?! But YOU are the one who instigated it. Me: You know what? Just get out of my house. You and your brat are no longer welcome. Her: What is wrong with you? I'm preeeegnant and have a toddler and have nowhere to go, you can't just kick out a stranded pregnant mother and her toddler at 3 am in the cold.
Me: OH YES I CAN, YOU INSUFFERABLE WITCH. Get OUT of my house before I call the authorities. Her, picking her brat up and heading towards the door: Just wait until I tell your mother about this! Me: Yeah, I'll gladly tell her about what the little brat to the TV and that you refused to pay for it! Her: You'll regret this! Thankfully, though, she left.
The next morning I called my parents and explained what happened. They were very understanding because I was never raised to be a spoiled little jerk and the mom got an earful from my mom that if she didn't pay them back we would take her to small claims. She tried to play the “Woe is me” card but it didn't work and she forked over the $500 for the new TV. Then we cut contact with her.
41. Misplaced Anger
Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from my older brother and he told me that my mom had a miscarriage. This is hardly surprising, as she's in her 40s. But I have a dark confession. I actually felt a huge wave of relief wash over me—because this way, my siblings' lives would not be worsened by my parents' insistence on adding another mouth to feed on an already tight budget.
My sister would not be asked to give up her inheritance so they could have money for their new baby. My brother told me my mom had been crying and while I did feel bad for her, I was still glad to hear about the miscarriage. I feel like we all dodged a huge bullet. My brother asked me to move back in for a while, to help comfort my mom.
I told him I wasn't going to move in because first, my college would reopen in a few days, and two, I'm done with all the family drama. However, I did agree to come to visit my mom, if only out of courtesy. In the evening, I went over to my parents' place. I took chocolate chip muffins for my mom, which I know she likes. My sister greeted me at the door and told me mom had been in bed all day.
After greeting my dad, I went into their bedroom. Mom was sitting up on the bed. I told her I was sorry about what happened and placed the muffins on the bedside table. Her reaction floored me. She looked at me angrily, then threw the muffins at me. She screamed at me that she had "lost her baby" because of me. She said I had caused her stress and it's what caused her to miscarry.
She said I was probably glad her baby was gone (which is true, but of course I didn't point that out). She called me a witch and said I had wished this upon her. She was screaming so loudly, all my siblings and my dad came rushing to the bedroom. She yelled at me to get out. I did. I hugged my older brother and sister. Before I left, my dad told me my mom was right, that my "cruelty" caused her to miscarry.
I told him that was a grossly unfair accusation and reminded him that at mom's age, it was quite common to miscarry. Then I walked out. I'm so done with my parents and their stupidity. I can only hope they won't try for another kid.
42. Child’s Play
My company sets up a booth at a carnival and we engaged several part-timers to assist at the carnival. The part-timers are required to go around the grounds to distribute flyers, share information, and direct visitors to our booth. On the day of the carnival, after setting up, I met up with the part-timers to prepare them for the day.
Out of all the part-timers, only this one woman was late. She mentioned she would be 15 minutes late, but it was closer to an hour. As we couldn't wait, I briefed the others and deployed them for the day. When she arrived, she had her kid in tow, who was about five or six years old. Due to the nature of the job, we can't have her lugging her kid while working. She knew this.
Her: My husband couldn't handle the kid, so I had to bring her along. Me: I can't have you working with your kid. Her: It's not my problem. If you don't like it, get someone to watch over him. My colleague who was watching this unfold offered to watch over her kid. He was only required to help out during the start and end of the carnival, so was entirely free during the event.
I thought alright, since he was free. Colleague: I can watch over her, get her some food, watch some shows, play some games. But you'll need to pay me. Me: Whatever. But I'm not paying you for your time, only for the kid. Colleague (grinning): Sure. I was flabbergasted, but he told me not to worry—because he had an ingenious plan.
Once the woman started working, my colleague brought her kid systematically through every single booth throughout the entire carnival. It was the kid's dream come true and, I believe, her best day ever. Whatever she wanted to eat, my colleague bought. She saw a lot of the shows and won many prizes. Since my colleague had a staff pass, he didn't need to pay for the shows, only for the kid.
At the end of the carnival, when we were clocking the hours worked, the mother had the nerve to insist to be paid full even though she was late for almost an hour. She said that because of various reasons (mainly due to her kid), she would have been early. She was ranting and I didn't really pay any attention, but it was about how I will never understand as I don't have kids and how she deserves it because she was a mother.
My manager nearby winked at me and took over. He said he was very pleased with the day's sales and how we are very supportive of her and we should give kids the best. He told her not to worry about the hours she worked and she will be paid in full. After hearing this, not even a single thanks from this woman, she declared in a loud voice: "At least someone understands."
She had this condescending and victorious look on her face. Thankfully, It didn't last long. The sucker punch for her was that her kid spent roughly $100, and with her pay at $15/hr for 8 hrs, she made a whopping $20 for the whole day. My colleague made it a point to keep track of the expenses (receipts, tickets, stubs, etc.) and took tons of photos.
Of course, she threw a fit, but with the amount of evidence and her daughter vouching for all the fun she had, it was tough to have a leg to stand on. She had no case except to yell "I'M NOT PAYING FOR THIS!!" and then she grabbed her daughter and stormed off. We look forward to payday when we issue her a cheque for $20 for her time.
43. Fun For The Whole Family
This took place a couple of years ago, when I was 17 and I used to spend part of my summers helping out in my grandpa's restaurant. The restaurant was located on the bottom floor of our family house in a little village (30 inhabitants) and my maternal great-grandparents lived on the upper floor. In the restaurant, my great-grandmother and my grandma were in charge of cooking and my great-grandpa and granddad were in charge of attending the tables.
It was kind of small, as it had like eight tables of four on the inside, and we could set another two outside if the weather was good. As the restaurant also served as a bar, it was filled with locals. Since many of them were retired, they used to spend the whole day playing cards and drinking, so although it was a small location, in summer usually it was full of people.
Also, my great-grandparents founded this restaurant in the year 1941, therefore it was well-known and had a good reputation among the locals. I'm also proud to say that my great-grandparents were very loved in their community as they really were great people. Although it was a quite remote place, in summer we used to get like four or five groups of tourists per week.
The rule was that my brother and I were in charge of serving their tables as we were the only ones who knew any other language than Spanish, our native tongue. Our opening hours at the time were from 12:00 to 22:30 but the kitchen was only open from 13:00 to 15:00 and from 19:30 to 21:00. We only served one menu, composed of a starter, two main dishes, dessert, and cider or water.
So now the story. It was around 16:00, therefore most of the customers had finished eating and were chatting over a cup of coffee or some pints. My grandparents and great-grandparents were still eating as they waited until everyone was finished. Meanwhile, my brother and I were in charge of serving the tables just in case anyone wanted something else to drink.
Suddenly we hear a car outside, and I can hear a woman loudly speaking in English. As soon as they enter, this happens. Her: We would like to have a table, X from the Y Hotel told us this was a great place to eat. Me: I'm sorry ma'am, but the kitchen is already closed as it's kind of late. Her: Yes, it's late because we got lost in these stupid roads! Is it so difficult to put proper signals? Also, we have a little kid who is hungry.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, let me check If I can do something for you. I then went inside and explained the situation to my grandma, who told me to attend them as everything was already prepared and it would be just heating the food. Her: Well, are you going to give us a table or not? If the kitchen is closed, how is it that those people are eating.
At this point, she pointed at my grandpas. At the moment, I thought she was behaving like that because she was kind of hungry. I wasn't really used to dealing with rude people, as the majority of tourists used to be really respectful. Me: Well those are the owners, so they can eat whenever they want. (I said this while laughing a bit). Anyway, I have just asked them and you will be able to eat too, so please follow me to your table.
They follow me to the table and I explain to them that there is only one menu. They give me a strange look but they seem OK with that. I serve them the bread and I put a bottle of water on the table. They start devouring the bread so my "They were a bit rude cause they were hungry" theory seemed to be confirmed. I was so, so wrong.
As soon as I bring the starter, the dad demands to have the Wi-Fi password. Him: Hey, we see that there is a Wi-Fi network, what’s is the password? Me: Yes, there is one. However, the Wi-Fi is for the staff’s personal use. (We had a measured and reeeeally slow connection that my grandpa used for checking some newspapers and my brother and I used for sending Whatsapps to our friends). Him: That's ridiculous! We are paying customers and we deserve to have access to your Wi-Fi!
Mom: Yes, our little angel wants to watch some videos. We don't have any kind of internet access here! Me: Sorry, but as I have said it's for personal use. Mom: That's not right, this would be unacceptable in America. Me: Well, I'm sorry to inform you that we are not in America. The mom tells something to the kid and he starts running around the restaurant, stomping his feet and shouting
My great-grandpa comes to me and asks me what is happening, I explain the whole situation to him and he asks me to please translate what he is going to say. Him: Please lady control your child, or I will have to ask you three to leave. Her: DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY CHILD YOU DINOSAUR! Father: DON'T GET CLOSE TO MY CHILD YOU OLD CREEP! By this point, everyone is of course looking with disbelief to these morons.
I hesitate for a second, but translate all of this to my great-grandpa, expecting a not really nice reaction. Instead of saying anything, he slowly turns around and asks two men who are sitting at a table to take the whole family out of his restaurant. I proceed to explain to the family that if they don't get out, those two men, who also happened to be police officers, would be taking them out.
They don't seem to believe that those two men were officers and they refused to leave until we served them. Finally, both men stood up, showed their plaques, and asked them (in their best English) to leave. They finally stand up and leave. However, as they were leaving the officers realized that they had parked in front of our garage, blocking it.
At that point, they decided to ask for their rental car papers while taking a couple of photos and giving them a fine for blocking a private property garage.
44. Get A Room
I had a friend from college who used to invite herself to visit one or two times a year. It got to the point where I would dread these visits because my friend would complain about everything. Things like, “When you move again, can you find an apartment with a sink with only one handle? This current setup sucks.” She’d also brag about money, plus we had somewhat grown apart at this point, so the visits were sometimes awkward.
I was starting to feel like I was being used as a hotel since I live in Chicago. On her most recent (and last) visit, I firmly told her she had to get a hotel room. I had moved into a studio and did not even have a couch for her to sleep on. We were 29 at the time. I am an assistant and she is a pharmacist. We were out for drinks and she said, “I just think it’s so wild how I live in this huge, new beautiful home and you basically live in a tiny room.”
PSA: For the love of God, never invite yourself to stay with people, be it friends or family. Let them invite you. You might think you are welcome, but it is entirely possible that your “host” is just being polite and feels like she/he cannot say no. I recently reached out to this friend to wish her a happy birthday and her response was, “Thank you! Let’s plan a visit soon!”
45. He Steals From The Poor And Gives To Himself
I worked for a non-profit that worked with underprivileged kids. One of my coworkers was caught stealing lots from the organization. Mind you, this was a very small non-profit, where we were constantly low on funds. A lot of workers would even put in their own money to make sure the kids got everything they needed, and this happened quite often.
He did lots of other questionable stuff, but that was the big thing that I couldn’t ever forgive him for. He then went on to work with other non-profits and “volunteer” places, where they would continue the same behavior. We know lots of the same people and I know he uses the “I work with underprivileged kids” as a pick-up line to get people to like him.
46. All This Over A Parking Space
I am a paramedic in a place that has some HOAs and apartment complexes. We hate responding to the apartment complexes because there is nothing but assigned parking and no-fire zones. Basically, if we can't find a space to fit in we have to block the road. My agency also uses first responder vehicles and ambulances. The first responder, as implied, usually arrives first so we do our best to leave room for the ambulance to fit in.
We get a call at the apartment complex. I am the first responder. As I pull up to the address by some miracle, there is a spot only two apartments away. Great, I can leave the road clear for the ambulance. As soon as I park, out comes this guy screaming I can't park there. I do the "are you serious” look and just say it’s a medical emergency.
He says he doesn't care, I can't park there. Keep in mind my vehicle has enough lights to make a Christmas tree jealous. I just grab my stuff, lock the vehicle, and keep going. He is screaming he is going to call the authorities, I tell him they are already on the way. They respond to medical emergencies. An officer gets there while I am in with the patient and tells him basically to pound salt.
The officer enters the apartment—and then this guy really goes full-blown hissy fit. He enters the apartment and comes into the room where I am treating the patient. He starts ranting and raving about how I have to move my vehicle. I look at the officer and say "get him outta here”. The officer then seals his fate. He asks the patient if she wants this person removed from the apartment and did she ever give consent for him to enter.
The patient's response: "Get him OUT, he's trespassing”. Boom, the all-clear. The cop gives him one last chance and tells him to leave or he will be detained. He doubles down, yelling: "I AM ON THE HOA BOARD, I CAN GO WHERE I PLEASE”. At this point, backup is called. The officer at least manhandles the guy out of the room. The ambulance arrives with PD backup and they get him out of the apartment so we can safely remove the patient.
Not entirely sure what happened next, as I was in the back of the ambulance, but when I got out one of the officers approached and said, "Sorry but we need another bus. We had to taze him". Policy for PD is if they taze someone, they have to be transported to the hospital by ambulance to the hospital, as the taser spikes have to be surgically removed due to the barbs on them.
They wait for the second ambulance and take him. I go back in service. I found out a few weeks later that he was charged with trespassing, assaulting an officer, resisting arrest, interference with government administration (AKA interfering with the scene of an emergency). All over a parking space that I would have been in for all of 20 minutes if he hadn't created problems.
I can only assume he took a plea deal, as I was never called to testify.
47. When You Assume…You Know The Rest
Being someone that used to fly a lot, I constantly was upgraded to business class, first-class, or simply just upgraded seats using miles. Since the flight in question was a connection for me, I arrived and boarded later than most of the plane. As soon as I walked into the plane, I saw someone was sitting in my seat, since I had been upgraded.
Now, if you fly enough, someone sitting in your seat is not an uncommon occurrence. But this time, it was an encounter I’ll never forget. I said: “Excuse me, I believe you are in my seat”. The man in my seat does not even bother looking up at me, waves his hand dismissively at me, and says: “Let’s just switch seats so I can sit beside my wife”. I say, “Sure! What is your seat”?
He snickers and says a number. Now, I do not remember exactly what seat number he said, but it was the last row of the airplane. Aisle seat. Right by the bathroom. Yes, I have had to fly in those seats in the past. Remember, my assigned seat was in the first class/business class section. Now, I have switched seats with people innumerable times in my life without a second thought, even first-class seats—the look of someone getting to unexpectedly ride first class is priceless.
But the way this guy was behaving and what he was expecting—this was not one of those times. Me: “No. I am just going to sit in my assigned seat”. Now he finally looked at me. He says: “Well I want to sit by my wife so I am not moving”. I reply: “Well, if you want to sit by your wife, I am sure whoever is sitting way back there would be more than happy to switch seats way up here so you can sit back there with your wife”.
He didn’t like that at all, for what could he really say at that point without sounding like a jerk? He just stared at me. Now annoyed, I say: “Move”. He says: “I am not moving”. DING. Darn right, I pushed the call button. The flight attendant approaches: “Yes sir, how may I help”? I hand her my ticket and say that he is sitting in my seat.
She asks for his ticket, checks both tickets, sees his seat number, and gave him a look like, “Seriously”? She says: “Sir, you need to sit in your assigned seat”. He replies: “I want to sit beside my wife”. Well, I wasn’t missing a beat. I parroted my original statement about me being sure whoever was sitting back there beside him would be more than happy to switch seats and sit up here.
Boy oh boy, that obviously made him angry. The flight attendant looks at his wife and says “Ma’am, would you like to switch seats so you can sit by your husband”? His wife: “No”. The flight attendant continues in that all-too-familiar flight attendant voice that lets you know you have no choice: “Well sir, you have to sit in your assigned seat so please gather your things”.
What a sad and pathetic sight it was seeing this grown man act like a baby, gather his things and then sulk towards the back of the plane. Yes. His wife sat beside me that flight and didn’t join her husband in the back of the plane. No. We didn’t talk to or look at each other even once, which was perfectly fine with me. Imagine dismissively expecting someone to give up their first-class/business class seat to sit in the very last row of the airplane by the bathroom.
48. Mi Casa Es Not Karen’s Casa
I just got notice yesterday that my entitled aunt Karen has just passed on. I got a call from her husband asking me to attend the funeral next weekend, and I declined. As did my older brother Mark. Karen was my mother's older sister and she constantly interfered in my mother and her children's lives. She never liked my father and always tried to tell my mother that she made a mistake by marrying him.
She didn't like the name my parents picked out for my older brother. My great-grandmother passed the day before I was born, and when Karen found out they were going to name me after her, she freaked out. She claimed she wanted to name her potential future kid that, so my mother couldn't use it. Then she tried to talk her out of it by saying it's too old-fashioned and kids would make fun of me.
She criticized both my brother's and my choice of friends and even complained when I started playing softball, because "proper ladies" didn't play sports and if her daughter ever tried playing a sport, she would have her removed from the team. Spoiler—she never had children. The day after my 16th birthday, my parents drove on a business trip down to California.
My dad said that when they got back, he would drive me to the DMV to get my license. He never did, because on the drive to California, they hit a patch of ice, spun out, crashed, and didn’t make it. I was a wreck for some time after that, I didn't even want to attend my high school graduation later because my parents wouldn't be there. Their will split everything evenly between my brother and I.
At the funeral, my parents’ production manager Tim was talking to my brother and my brother told him that in a couple weeks, he would step in and take over. He was counting on Tim to run things smoothly until then and help him in taking it over and learning the ropes. I had no interest in the business, other than it was a guaranteed summer job when I was growing up.
I stayed out of it and just collected profit checks until I sold my half to Mark, and he continues to run the business to this day. Mark told Tim that he should assure the employees there that their jobs were safe and that no major changes would be made. Then one day, aunt Karen showed up and began putting her stuff in my parents' office.
When Tim confronted her about this, she said his services were no longer needed and he was fired. Tim called Mark up and Mark went down with the family attorney, some law enforcement officers, and the necessary paperwork, and had her removed. She claimed the place was now hers because it was her sister's, so she was now the owner.
As long as I have known her, she has never had a steady job, and has had three husbands. She milked each one for as much as she could get until she divorced him. The next day, I was leaving for school—I walked, it was fairly close, about 10 minutes—and saw her car and a moving van parked outside. She said she was moving into "her" house…but that’s not the worst part.
She then said in a sickly sweet voice, that for a "reasonable" rent, she would continue to allow me to stay there until I graduated high school. I went in and called my brother, and he again showed up with the family attorney, officers, and all the paperwork, and had her removed from the property. I was at school, so I didn't get to see what happened.
That night, Mark gave me a business card (for a policeman, who I assume helped deal with all this) and told me that if I ever saw aunt Karen on or near the property to call that number and report her immediately, don't even try to confront her or give her a warning, just call. I do know that the movers charged her to move her stuff into the van, drive across town, get turned away, and drive back across town and move her stuff back into her apartment, which she hadn't given notice yet.
I got scared to the point that I didn't like letting our dog into the backyard when I was at school, I used to put her out in the yard to let her play in the fenced backyard while I was in school. For a while, I just put her in the locked and closed garage, and then cleaned up her messes when I got home in the afternoon.
Eventually, Karen moved to Colorado, where I assume she met and married the man who called me and said that she had passed on and he couldn't find anyone from her family to attend the funeral. I chose not to tell him about her and politely said, "Sorry for your loss, but I can't make it". From discussions with Mark, he basically told him the same thing.
Outside of myself, Mark, and Mark's infant daughter, I don't think she has any living relatives. I still own the house (Mark gave me his half as part of the deal where I sold him my half of the business), but still sleep in my bedroom. I still miss my parents and think about them every day, and even though I am 20, own a large home, have a lot of money in the bank, I would trade it all to have my parents back.
49. Shifting The Focus
I work at a large chain grocery store in a well-to-do area. While many of our customers may look like typical Karens, most are actually really nice and amazing people. That being said, I was racking carts and I hear this lady on the phone behind me muttering: "I don’t know why they come to this country, they can barely even speak the language. I’m behind on right now who's probably a terrorist”!
I look in the window’s reflection and I can see that she's walking behind a young woman in a hijab who has a small child. The young woman just put her son in a cart and I can see that she looks like she's about to cry. So I decide, forget it…I'll take the hit for her. I spin around to Karen and shout: "Oi! I take bloody exception to that! Just because I’m Irish does NOT mean I am or ever was in the IRA”!
I look at both Karen and the young woman. Both were speechless and all Karen does is point at the young woman. So I continue, this time speaking to the young woman: "You saw that, didn’t you?! This lady just called me a bloody terrorist! I might speak Gaelige and wear a Catholic cross! I might even be from Ireland! And darn it I’m bloody proud! But I AM NOT A TERRORIST”!
At this point my manager walks over to see what all the fuss is about. I say: "This lady just called me a terrorist”! I turned to the young woman and asked: "You heard her call me that too, right"? My manager looks at the young woman and instantly catches on. He tells Karen that that kind of conduct is not okay in our store, no matter who it's directed at or why, and that she needs to leave.
Karen, still completely speechless, just turns around and walks out. I turn to the young woman and tell her: "I do apologize about the yelling ma'am, but I’m proud of who I am! If you need anything while you're shopping, just let me or one of my coworkers know”. The woman thanks me and pushes her cart away while sporting the biggest grin.
My manager then makes the comment "Entertainment tonight: $0. Teaching Karen a lesson about discrimination: $0. Seeing that young woman walking away sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat: priceless".
50. Giving Them A Taste Of The Local Hospitality
A few years ago I had a side hustle on my days off. My job had a rotational schedule where I worked two weeks then got two weeks off. I made plenty of money at my job, but it didn't hurt to make a little extra cash. I was in essence a tour guide. But for the region I lived in. I didn't have any planned tours but usually just took people to see neat places that they would not know about or think to go to.
I was adamant about getting paid up front. And customers signed an agreement saying that made guarantees to protect my truck from messes or damage. Never had any issues fortunately, and people always enjoyed the places I showed them. Except for one family. They seemed friendly enough when I was having them sign a contract and collecting my fee. I should mention my fee was $15/hour + $75 ($35 if it was a half day).
This covered a tank of fuel, plus paid for my time shuttling you around. I also kept a cooler with free water and some limited snacks. You were paying for my knowledge of the region, plus knowledge about the area’s history and such. Plenty of times I had customers tell me, "I've never seen so much cool stuff in one day". You could maybe find something cheaper, but I didn't care.
Once money changed hands with this family, the attitude changed. They began treating me like I was a second class citizen. But I had their money, so I didn't care. I drove them around to some of the most beautiful scenery you can find. It’s rare people are left speechless by these places and never have I seen someone not be impressed. Until now. Every place I showed them they just seemed disappointed.
One of the places was a ski town popular with a lot of celebrities (not Aspen), and they were just like "Eh, it's ok". I can't deny I was a little offended by their indifference but whatever. They were never outright rude during the day, but were surprised when I didn't buy lunch for them. As I said, you’re paying for my time, food is on you.
But when I got back to town and dropped them off at their hotel, it got interesting. The wife says, "You can just park in the back and leave the keys at the desk. Tell them they are for the Smith family”. Me: "I'm sorry, what”? Wife: "This truck, just park it in the back. We might use it later”. Me: "This is my truck. I'm not leaving it here, that’s not part of the deal"
Wife: "Oh please, there is no way you can own a vehicle like this. It obviously belongs to your company”. Me: "I do this job by myself, on my days off from my regular job. I assure you, this is my truck. I can show you my name on the title". Wife: "Young man (I had just turned 30) If you don't do as your told I will be forced to call your boss". Me: "You mean me? I am my boss".
Wife: "Okay smarty-pants, get your boss on the phone, right now”! I thought about just driving off, but then had a better idea. I called my supervisor at my real job. We'll call him Dan. Dan has been in the oilfield for 14 years and could have quite the potty mouth. Good supervisor, he knew what I did on my days off and even sent people my way a few times.
He answered and I just said, "One of my clients is demanding to speak with my boss, so here she is" and handed her my phone. The wife, sounding smug, said "I tried to tell your driver to leave the truck here so we could use it but he lied and said he owns it”. I could hear him yelling "ARE YOU (BLEEPING) STUPID”? I didn't discern anything else but I know he gave her a good thrashing.
She just walked to the window, handed me my phone, and said, "He wants to talk to you" then walked away. Boss: "That fix your problem”? Me: "Yea, thanks Dan". Boss: "Anytime brother".
51. A Restraining Order In The Making
I'm currently eight months pregnant with my first child. I work as a secretary on the inpatient ward of a hospital, second shift. I started working here when I was 19 to support myself through college. So, my coworkers are like family. When I was four months pregnant, I told my coworkers, who were happy for me. All except Patty. She didn't say anything.
After a while, she started being friendly with me asking about the baby, my health, and my plans for the future. I told her that my boyfriend and I were getting married and moving in together to be a family. Patty didn't like this for some reason, and started asking me about my opinions on adoption. I said NO, I'd never give my child up for adoption
For a few weeks, Patty gave me the silent treatment. Then one night, after visiting hours, a couple in their 40s showed up. told them that visiting hours were over and that they could see their family member tomorrow. What the woman told me made my blood run cold. She said, “Oh, we're here to see YOU! We're so excited to meet you and want to thank you for choosing us to give your baby to”!
I was dumbfounded and shocked—until the woman tried to touch my six months pregnant belly. I screamed so loud all of the nurses came running. The couple tried to explain to security, nurses, and me, that their sister-in-law told them that I was a young unwed mother desperately trying to give up my baby for adoption and choose them.
She said that their sister-in-law promised them my baby, since they have been suffering from infertility for years. I told them that I had no intentions of giving up my baby and to never come near me again. I also told them that I don't even know their sister-in-law, but they kept insisting that I did. The next night Patty comes charging up to my desk, screaming at me.
She’s yelling and asking how could I treat her brother and sister-in-law like garbage, after she helped me with my "mistake". I called security and Patty, her brother and sister-in-law are banned from coming near me or contacting me at work.
52. Eat Your Words
I moved cities six months ago, and my new job site has a 12-hour shift system (8 am to 8 pm or 8 pm to 8 am). And since I have a very high metabolism and am a total foodie, I have been packing a lot of food from home. (breakfast, two snacks, lunch or two dinners, and baked goods for tea time). I usually eat with my team of four people, and they get their meals from the on-site cafeteria.
I share my meals with them, because I love feeding people and I pack extra. But then I got a call from another co-worker, one whose husband is part of my team. She works in our opposing shift. This lady was aggressive from the get-go, demanding that I stop bringing my elaborate meals and that I should just get what the cafeteria is serving like everyone else.
I was firm and said that I was not going to change my habits and that she doesn't have a right to demand that. Then she went on a rant about how her husband has been comparing her to me (cooking, presentability, cheer is what she mentioned) and complaining for the last six months. I admit I felt bad for her. So I said that those kinds of issues should be discussed with her husband, not with me.
But I said again, that I will continue bringing food from home. Then she called me the b-word and hung up on me.
53. What’s Mine Isn’t Yours
My younger sister went through a pretty rough time as a young adult, drinking and doing other stuff and generally being wild, she ended up getting pregnant and giving birth at age 18 when I was just a few weeks away from turning 21. She did not want the child after giving birth, she refused to even pick up the child and would leave her sitting in dirty nappies.
Despite never wanting children myself either, I stepped in and adopted my newborn niece as my daughter. My then-boyfriend who I'd been with for three years gave me a disturbing ultimatum. He said it was him or her, as he didn't want children either. I picked her and he left me, which resulted in me suddenly being a single mother.
The first few years were rough as a single parent, barely making ends meet, but I managed and my sister had nothing to do with us. I never once hid the truth from my daughter that she was adopted, but always assured her I loved her so much and was her Mummy. When my daughter was six, my sister was finally clean and wanted to have access to her.
I allowed it but stressed she would just be an aunt to her and she accepted this, though it's clear she struggled with the concept and sometimes acted more like a mother which I always squashed quickly. Now, my daughter is eight and I've been offered a job in a different country, the pay is almost double my current salary and the company is helping us find a home.
They’re even putting my daughter in an international school and after-school care, so of course I’m going to take it. This resulted in my family having a meltdown about how I can't do this and how it's cruel to take my daughter away from her family and how it's not fair to my sister. My sister has told me she won't allow me to move away with her and that she'll fight in court to get my daughter back.
I've talked to lawyers and it seems she doesn't have a leg to stand on, as my daughter is legally my daughter, but the rest of my family is telling me I'm being extremely cruel and if I cared about my sister I'd turn this job down. I left home at 16 and finished my education. My sister meanwhile is the golden child who gets away with everything, she even now lives with our parents and doesn't work.
My daughter, while sad to be leaving her school and friends, is excited for the move. I've been teaching her about the country every night before bed and we've gone to some authentic restaurants to try food from there. I've also promised her we'll fly back at least once a year to visit and she can facetime/call her friends.
I feel like my family is angling for me to eventually just hand my daughter back over as if I was just a temporary filler for my sister—which will obviously never happen.
54. Ex Vs. HOA: Who’s Worse?
I'll start this off by saying my ex is vindictive as heck. We've been fully divorced since about right before the pandemic started. We sold the house we shared and I didn't have to pay her alimony because she cheated and we're in an at-fault state. It was messy since D-Day. All of the stereotypes. First the sobbing and then trickle truths saying "I love you”! "It was just one time”! "Ok it was two years".
Then the gaslighting, followed by "I'm going to take you for everything”! before packing her stuff and walking out. I feel like I never really knew the woman my ex was in all the time we were together. We were married for five years and together for seven. And in two of those five married years, she had affairs with three other men. The final one being a foreign businessman of some sort from what I could find out.
Yes, I got tested and was thankfully negative. Yes, she got pregnant by the final dude, and no I didn't sign the birth certificate because I found out about all the affairs before the baby was born thanks to a call from the first dude. My ex tried to go full scorched earth on me. But since we live in and were married in an at-fault state, she lost.
We didn't pay equally into our house, and the equity was divided 70/30. So I got a pretty good cash payout when I sold our marital home to put as a down payment on a different house closer to my job. It's a bit of a downgrade. But suits a single guy in his thirties like me just fine. My ex did show up to my house once. But I refused to let her in.
She yelled at me that I'd financially ruined her in the divorce. I said that she was fully willing to do that to me first. Then, the woman had the audacity to say it should have been my life that got messed up, and not hers. I laughed so hard and said it was karma. She yelled that she'd sue me for what was rightfully hers. I said if she was gonna sue me, then to go ahead and sue me.
It'd end up the same way in court, because she has nothing but a false sob story. She was the cheater, not me. I'm no angel, but I didn't do anything to her. And she was the one who ruined our marriage. Then she took it up a notch. She then said she'd tell everyone she could that I abused her. I said I'd sue her for defamation if she did, and I was recording our interaction and had those words saved to my phone.
She went wide-eyed and her jaw dropped. The look people are calling the surprised Pikachu face. Then I asked why she was there, if not to just try and make trouble. Because she had a new man in her life that knocked her up. She just huffed at me and said he isn't around much, and she's stuck in a tiny apartment living off his child support till he comes back.
It was immature of me I know, but I did the bit of playing the world's smallest violin. She raged at me and then got in her car to leave. Haven't seen her since. But as soon as I got her out of my life, I had to deal with an even more annoying problem. There is an HOA in my neighborhood. But I was not legally obligated to join it because the last owner of my house was not a member. I made sure of that through a real estate lawyer as well.
The HOA had no grounds to force me to join and they were not happy about it. The HOA president would show up with forms every week for the first month demanding I sign them. Then she threatened to take me to court. To which I had to get a C&D sent to her from my lawyer to make her stop that. So she started harassing me by looking for any infractions she possibly could to report to the city.
An inspector came out several times and found nothing wrong. In fact, I offered one of them a burger while grilling, and they graciously accepted. Did I mention the HOA hates barbecues and parties that aren't approved in advance? Well, they do. And I like to grill when the weather is good. And my neighbors actually love me for it because I invite them over.
I had the authorities called on me several times for noise complaints because I was playing music on a Saturday afternoon while having my friends over. The HOA president I caught trespassing once when she was trying to peer into my windows. I called the authorities, but she denied ever doing it. So I got cameras. She hasn't trespassed since.
But I still got repeated passive-aggressive letters saying my cameras were not an approved addition to my house. Some months ago I started getting letters for fines in the mail. And when I contacted the HOA, their representative claimed they had it on record that I'd joined, and needed to pay all fees effective immediately. I told them that was not possible.
Then they emailed a scanned copy of the forms, and they had a signature on them. But it was not mine. That’s when I made a chilling realization. It was very similar in some ways, and I recognized right away as being my ex's handwriting. She knew what my signature looked like. But it was a loose imitation at best. I got in touch with a lawyer right away over the forged signature.
But the HOA still demanded to go to court. And it took seven months before that happened. Meanwhile they were stacking unpaid fines against me weekly, and were threatening to put a lien on my house. We went to court and the HOA president looked very smug. But my lawyer pointed out how the signature wasn't the same as mine, and was very inconsistent in the various forms.
I'd never allowed the HOA president in my house, and I'd never requested the forms. The idiot HOA president actually slammed her palm on the table and said it was still binding. But when pressed where the fraudulent signature came from, she admitted my ex-wife called the HOA and they sent her the forms, then got them back in the mail signed.
Then she actually claimed she'd thought I'd signed them. The judge looked at her and asked if she was serious. She confirmed she was. The judge then asked how a woman I was no longer married to, that had never even lived with me in my current residence was supposed to have any bearing on whether or not I joined her HOA. She went quiet and I could see the “Oh no” look on her face as the hamster wheels were turning.
She seemed to finally mentally put the pieces together. My lawyer then counterclaimed that what the HOA did was blatant fraud, and actions must be taken. And they were. I countersued the HOA for the emotional distress of the harassment I'd gotten since moving in. Which I had lots of proof of. That won me about ten grand after lawyer fees, which I decided to put towards my mortgage.
The HOA president was removed from her throne. I like to think she was kicking and screaming. She was also slapped with a hefty fine. I've seen her outside a few times, and she always looks at me like I am the devil. The HOA itself had to pay all of my fees too. I wanted to go after my ex for forging my signature. Unfortunately, not long after she forged my signature on those forms, she apparently left the country to be with her third affair partner.
She's somewhere in Europe from what I can see of the final posts on her FB before she disappeared. So I can't do anything against her unless she ever returns to the US. So that was a wash. I'm not getting letters from the HOA anymore, though. And the new president has promised to keep things completely cordial from now on.
I still don't feel like I got much of a win in this though. Other than the 10k payout, it all felt like a huge waste of time.
55. Turning The Tables
This is my friend’s tale about how she turned the tables on a home invader. At the time this happened, my friend was rising her child by herself in a suburb of in Texas. The area they lived in wasn't particularly safe, with wild beasties of both human and animal kinds so my friend armed herself with a small pistol and took some safety classes to protect her small family.
The years go by, her child is now five and there was a series of break-ins in the neighborhood. My friend hired a security company to install security cameras around her home. One day while reviewing footage, friend noticed a strange man lurking around the house. He seemed to wander around a bit and then wandered away, so friend shrugged and carried on with her day.
Nothing to worry about right? Turns out—she was wrong. A few days later, my friend was working in her home office and saw the same guy walking down her driveway, opening the gate, and entering her backyard. My friend realized the kitchen door was open, and her child was playing in the living room. My friend grabbed her pistol from her purse and ran to the kitchen and got there as the guy calmly walked through her backdoor!
The guy sauntered in, looked and looked around the room—to see my friend standing there with her pistol pointed at him. Guy froze. She yelled: “Who are you and why are you in MY house!? The guy gulped, grabbed his phone and DIALED 9-1-1! He said: “Help! I'm standing in this kitchen and some crazy lady has a pistol pointed at me”!
My friend was stunned but didn't put her pistol down while calmly telling her child to go play in their room then stood there, not moving while staring down the guy, who refused to leave! The guy said: “You are gonna get it when the authorities show up lady”! She told him to get out of her house. The guy actually stayed standing there until the officers came into the kitchen!
The guy saw the officers and started screaming, “Cuff her, she's crazy! Look, she has a pistol on me”! My friend put it down and started shaking. “This is MY house! YOU broke in”! The officers then stopped and stared, looked at the guy, and asked: “You broke in”? The guy said: “Well her door was open, and then she pulled a pistol on me! That’s not how it works! Cuff her for having a pistol”!
My friend said: “I have a license and this is Texas you idiot”! The officers detained the guy—who was STILL howling about my friend. She gave the officers a copy of the video of him sniffing around earlier in the week.
56. Someone Never Learned “Sisters Before Misters”
My sister, who is in her mid-30s, is probably the worst case of entitled I’ve ever seen. She’s always the victim, can do no wrong, and the world owes her for her imaginary suffering. This time, however, she’s reached a new level. She’s recently confessed to our mom and I that she’s started dating someone behind her husband’s back.
To be honest, her husband is also a ginormous dirtbag, but just leave the guy, okay. I don’t think anyone deserves to be cheated on, and even though he totally sucks, an affair doesn’t constitute some kind of just punishment. It’s messy, gross, and not worth it, save everyone the extra heartache. Now, we lost our grandma at the end of August.
It hasn’t even been a month since she passed, and since she was terminally ill, we did have time to discuss some things and make arrangements for others. She lived in an apartment that’s attached to our mom's house, and we had talked about me moving into it after grandma passed. Everyone thought it was a good idea because my grandma had things like no-slip railings, kitchen tools/gadgets for arthritic hands, etc.
I am also disabled and could benefit from the same equipment. Well, I come to find out my idiotic sister thinks it’d be a cool idea to have her marital affair move into our mom’s property instead, so she can use our mom as some kind of cover for her affair. I am absolutely repulsed and livid. We were all just starting to let my sister come around again, because after grandma passed, she seemed like it had really affected her.
We really believed that she was really turning over a new leaf, but it’s all because she wants her boyfriend to move in. I don’t think anyone is going to go with the idea. I just can’t believe that she even thought it would be a viable option and something that she could even suggest to us, why does she just assume that we’ll help her cheat on her husband? I want no part of it, I will not be an accomplice.
Also, her justification for suggesting he move in is because “Sister (me) doesn’t seem to be in much of a rush to get up there”, like yeah? Well, here’s the reason why. I found our grandma, deceased, LESS THAN A MONTH AGO, in that house. Sorry I haven’t been in a hurry to erase grandma from her home. Sorry I haven’t been sorting through all of her belongings and getting them ready to be rehomed or donated.
I wish I could keep every trace of her, and the fact that I have to get rid of anything at all hurts. I’m sorry I haven’t done it yet, but maybe try having a little empathy. Because of this, I’ve decided that I’m kicking my sister out of my life again. Each time I think she’s capable of changing, she shows that she’s still the same horrible, selfish person, and I’m done falling for the charade.
Have fun with the inevitable divorce proceedings. Good luck explaining all this to your kids too.
57. The Art Of The Deal
We have been looking for a car for our youngest. Looking through online ads, we came across an ad for a luxury car that only asked for about 1/3 of what this car blue books for. The says the car just suddenly stopped starting. My husband is a mechanic so we decided to look at it, just to see. Immediately, he sees a couple potential problems as to why it doesn't start.
The car has new tires, the body is nearly perfect, and the interior needs a few easy fixes. Still well worth way more than owner is asking, even with paying for repairs to get it running. Of course, we bought it. My youngest is ecstatic about getting a luxury car for graduation. My husband gets the car running—it was an even easier fix than he originally thought. That’s when we met the crazy lady.
It’s time for plates and registration. Off to the DMV we go. We come out with the temporary tags and as my husband is putting them on the car, this lady walks up. She says: “Excuse me”? But I was on the phone, so I ignore her. Again, she says, more rudely this time, “Excuse me”? I reply: “I'm sorry, do you need something”? She says: “Yes! That car”.
I say: “My car? What about it”? She asks: “Where did you get it”? Me: “We bought it a few weeks ago”. She says: “That's my car”. My husband says: “No, it isn't. Now get away from us”.
She says: "Yes, that is the car I was going to buy from [previous owner] and you stole it from me”. I say: “Lady, I paid [previous owner] what they were asking and nothing was said about you. Leave. Us. Alone”.
She claims she had an agreement to buy the car from the previous owner. She says “You came in and MADE her sell it to you. I want it back and I want it now. I had to buy that piece of garbage over there instead. Now, you take the piece of garbage and give me my car”. I told her whatever, and to get out of my way before I run her over.
She says: “I'm not going anywhere. I've already reported to the authorities that I have found my stolen car and they are on the way”. My husband asks: “Are you nuts lady? You can't just report a car stolen because you missed the chance to buy it”. But there was something this insane lady didn’t know. We were actually waiting on the previous owner to show up to get her plate and registration because there was a mix-up with the title (DMV’s fault).
We had to wait to get that fixed before we could title, register, and plate it, so we were still using the correct plates. The previous owner can then turn in her plate and get a refund for the months not used. Two cruisers pulled up about five minutes later. The previous owner pulled in right behind them. As the two officers are getting out and asking who called, the previous owner walked up to me and my husband, asking what is going on.
She hadn't noticed the crazy lady yet. The crazy lady immediately started yelling how she had paid for this car and we forced the previous owner to give us the title instead. She wanted us taken away and her given the title and possession of the car right now. One of the officers walked over to us. I grinned because it is one my friend’s sons. He grew up with and was friends with my oldest son.
He said: “Hey. Want to tell me what is going on”? I replied: “I don't really know. We bought this car a few weeks ago from her [pointing to previous owner] and while we were waiting for her to show up to get her plate, this woman started screaming at us about stealing the car. Something about they [pointing between previous owner and crazy lady] had an agreement about the car but she [previous owner] sold it to us instead and now she [crazy lady] is demanding we take whatever car she ended up buying and we give her this one”.
The previous owner says: “Oh my god. This is exactly why I didn't sell her the car in the first place. She is my neighbor and she is INSANE! She asked me about it when I decided to sell it and I told her she could buy it, but she wanted me to get it running again but still sell it to her for the low price. I told her I didn't want to deal with it and that is why it was low”.
“If I got it running again, I might just keep it, but I would definitely raise the selling price to at least double. She has called me a few times asking if I had it running yet and I have told her no but she kept telling me to call her when I did”. The officer then (going with procedures) checked all of our IDs, checked the bill of sale, previous registration, and ran the VIN. Everything checked out.
The officer said: “I think we're done here”. Then he turned to the crazy lady and said: “Ma'am, what you have attempted here is against the law. Actually, you made a false report which is against the law and I could cuff you, but I'm not. I'm sure you're just upset and made a bad judgment call so we will let it slide”. Her reaction was unbelievable.
She screamed: “No! It wasn't a false report! That is MY car”! He said: “Ma'am, stop. Just stop. I could also charge you with attempted car theft but we're all just going to walk away now”. She said: “No! I'm not just walking away. This isn’t happening. [Pointing at previous owner] You owe me [amount twice what we paid for the car] And I will get my car back”.
Officer #2 said: “Ma'am step over by the cruiser. We need to have a talk”. I gave the plate to the previous owner and Officer #1 told us to have a nice day. My husband and I went ahead and left while previous owner went into the DMV. The crazy was still ranting at Officer #2 about allowing us to take the car. Well, there was a happy ending. The previous owner texted me later that the crazy lady was in the back of the officer’s car when she left…still yelling.
58. Know Your Worth
This makes me hurt a little, because up to this point my sister was the only one I could mildly get along with within my family, but I guess she is my mother's daughter so the entitlement shouldn't have been a surprise. My sister and brother-in-law are both essential, a law enforcement officer and doctor. So, they've needed someone to watch their kids now that school is canceled and a lot of daycare services aren't around.
Even then the youngest one had been kicked out of two of them and finding a new one is difficult due to that. So I've been watching these kids 4-6 times a week depending on their schedule, anywhere between 7-12 hours a day. I was told to wait until they got paid, then told to wait for the stimulus check to come in and they'd pay me for it.
At that point (and I do have the text) it was going to be $85 a week, regardless of that 4-6 times a week. Well, they got the stimulus check-in. My sister gives me $55 and tells me that this was for the babysitting. I told her this wasn't what we agreed on. I was told that I should be grateful because she has been feeding me. No, she hasn't.
I bought my own food and tended to have to buy the food that these kids were eating for lunch. I was told it was just like “hanging out having fun” playing video games with my nephews. No, it was not. She knows her kids better to know they're monsters. They are both destructive. It's a hassle since I have to chase one of them around all the time to prevent them from climbing shelves, or from getting out the front door because these kids were never taught to mind.
I refused to bring my gaming laptop for the older one to play anymore. I told him specifically if he wanted to play on it, he could only touch the wireless mouse and keyboard and play it at the desk, but not to touch the laptop. So what does he do after getting bored with one game he begged me to let him play? Pick up the laptop and run with it and drop it.
I screamed at him—not my best moment—and he had the attitude of a teenage valley girl of "Whatever. Accidents happen, that's why they're accidents. If it breaks, you can just buy a new one," to which I told him HE would be the one to replace the $1,600 computer. But since that day, he's been whining about me not bringing it over for him to play with.
I have to deal with these kids assaulting me all the time and not being able to do a thing about it. These kids are MONSTERS and the only reason I agreed to do this was because she was my sister and she needed the help, but I was supposed to be compensated for my time away from MY own work. I work commission-based jobs at home, but I can't work on it around them as there's no pause for me to do it less the younger one would probably run away and get hit by a truck.
I know it'll probably be terrible of me if I just don't show up for the next few days until they start paying me what they at the very least owed me, but on the other hand, I really just don't want to be around those kids.
59. Not With A Bang, But A Whimper
So, my boyfriend and I moved into an apartment in August. It’s older so the floors are super creaky. According to our lease, we’re obligated to cover 90% of any room with carpet (except bathroom and kitchen) to help with noise. It turned out our apartment was previously managed as a dorm by the local college, so the floors already have a layer of super thin cheap carpet.
We also laid down more rugs to help with noise cancellation. Our downstairs neighbor moves in about a month later, and within a month of that, starts banging on her ceiling when we get too rowdy. The first couple of times, it happened super late in the living room—our apartments have the same floor plan. We were moving around after midnight the first time.
Later she came to talk to us and asked us to keep it down at night. Sure, fair enough. The next time, was when we walked in from the airport at 10 pm. She came up, banged on the door, and talked over my explanation. I told her I was sorry and asked when she was hearing the noise, assuming it was just the cat running around at night.
No, she tells me that she knows it’s not the cat, she knows it’s us, and she doesn’t live alone. Okay, weird but whatever. We started going to bed earlier as we settled into the apartment and our jobs, but the banging only continued. For months, she would hit her ceiling/our floor whenever we walked around. Bed at 10? BANG. Wake up at 5:30 for work? BANG. Sitting on the couch but decide you want snacks? BANG.
Around Christmas, she comes up to our door again. My boyfriend answered and this time, I recorded. I’m so glad I did. This woman came up and looked my boyfriend in the eye and said “You have to stop following me”. Uhhh? What? She says: “I know it’s not the cat or the dog or your girlfriend, because I know your footsteps. I don’t know how you figured it out, but you’ve figured out how to listen to where I am and you’re following me around my apartment and I’m sick of it”.
My boyfriend calmly responded that she sounds crazy and that we don’t care about her. She again reminded us that she doesn’t live alone. Her boyfriend is a small Latino man in his 60s who is very polite and has never said a word to us. Cool, she’s insane, whatever. The banging continued with us stomping every time we heard it. She didn’t like that, but it made it more fun.
We’d already explained the situation to the landlord and the super and they were on our side. Our town was the first in the US to be locked down under quarantine, so for the first few days, the banging gradually increased until one day this woman lost her mind. I’ll admit that we’re early risers on the weekends. On this particular Sunday, we ended up waking up super early, but not doing much for the first few hours.
We drank some coffee and sat on the couch until almost 11. At that point, we decided to get up and clean the apartment. That’s when she lost her mind. She had to be running from one end of her apartment to the other. She’s banging her ceiling so hard that we’re convinced she’s damaging it. At one point, I hear what sounds like muffled yelling after she followed me into the bedroom.
We had plans that day, so we ignored her, finished cleaning, and started to leave. She must’ve been waiting for us to leave, because for the first time ever, she walked out of her apartment right as we go to her landing. I was holding the dog while waiting for my boyfriend to come down as she starts to descend the stairs.
Of course, she decides to turn around and say something. She says: “Tell your boyfriend to cut it out”. I say: “Cut what out? Walking? You’re hitting the ceiling because of me and the dog moving, not him”. She continues to spew some other dumb stuff as my boyfriend gets down to me. She proceeded to stay exactly three steps ahead of him, slowing us all the way down the stairs.
She tried to block us going out the door at the bottom, but backed off when he just didn’t stop moving. She’s continuing to yell at him all the way to the parking lot. Of myself and my boyfriend, he’s typically the hot head while I’m the calm one. Amazingly, he kept his calm the whole time, calling her only a crazy lady and ignoring her as he walked past her and her car to the dumpster.
As I passed her car, she decided to continue talking at me, and I was just furious that I couldn’t engage. She said: “I’m serious, it’s done”. I replied: “Okay, what do you want us to do, crawl? I already told you we have a 60 lb. dog, and we’re all just walking around”. She was talking over me, saying: “And you need to remember that I don’t live alone”.
I was like…okay…neither do I? You see my boyfriend right there, so what’s your point. By the way, that’s the third or fourth time you’ve said that and that could be taken as a threat. She says: “You think it’s a threat? Fine, it is”. I said, “Cool, I’m calling 9-1-1”. She goes: “Okay me too”. So, we both call the authorities, and they pull up.
They talk to her first and then come talk to us. I don’t know what she told them, but when they came to talk to us, I told them everything she’d said and done for the past six months. The officer explained that it was a civil matter that would have to be dealt with by the landlord, but ensured us that they explained to her that it is perfectly acceptable to WALK AROUND YOUR APARTMENT AT 11 AM ON A SUNDAY.
They also told her not to knock on our door ever again and that she’s not allowed to bang on our floor over footsteps at any point. For a couple of nights, she got back at us by banging at 1:30 am to wake us up. We had already reached out to our landlord again and this time, he told us he’d see what her problem is. That’s still not the last of his troubles with her though.
We ended up talking to the people that live below her and telling them about the banging. It turns out, they’ve heard it this whole time and had no idea what it was. Now that they know, they’ve also reported her to the landlord. The banging has stopped, we don’t expect her lease to be renewed, and we may end up in a better apartment in the next couple months.
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60. The Wicked Stepmother Comes To Life
So, for some background, I only had one parent in my life, as my father was abusive. My mother gained full custody and my father had extremely supervised visits—like a social worker had to watch me with him. He never made an appointment to see me. My mother told me what happened, when she thought I was ready. I was about 15/16.
When I turned 20, a lady who wasn't more than three years older than me contacts me. I mistake her for a person I’d seen in school. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Shortly after, I found out she was engaged to my father, and had a son with him. Big age difference. She was 23, my father 57. Then, I got into contact with my father.
I never met him, as he lived in New Hampshire while I live in Iowa. We never got close. A month later, my father passed suddenly. Shortly after, his fiancée—I’ll call her stepmom, even though she isn't really—lost custody of my half-brother. The authorities put him up for adoption due to her substance problems. That’s when I got a heartbreaking message.
They asked if I would adopt him, as he was my half-brother. I had to decline because I didn't have the space or money at the time. Around this time, I met my now-husband. Fast forward a few years. I am now 25, my husband 26. I have just given birth to our daughter three weeks ago. Right now, there are four people at the house.
Me, my husband, the baby, and my 56-year-old mother. My mom is high risk, and she wants to be around to help with my daughter. When my daughter was two weeks old, I posted some photos of me, my husband, my mother, and our daughter together. It took us some time with the photos but we figured it out. I posted them on Facebook.
About an hour later, I get a comment from my “stepmom” to check my messages. I check and here’s what they said: “Hey, I’m gonna be coming over tomorrow to see my granddaughter. I’m so excited to meet her. I'll stay in the guest room”. I should note she still lives in New Hampshire, and I still live in Iowa. I wrote back: “Sorry, we can't. My baby and my mother are high risk and I’m still learning a routine with my daughter. My mother is also using the guest bedroom”.
I didn't get a response after this. Next morning, there’s a knock at the door. I thought it could be a package I ordered, so I go answer it. When I opened it, I was furious. It’s my “stepmom” saying: "Hey! I'm here to see my granddaughter"! My stepmom tries to open the door, but I push back”.I told you couldn't come. There isn’t room for you and there are high-risk people here. Please leave”.
She says: "But I have a right to see my grandbaby. Your father would want me to meet her. I’m her family. " She tries to give me puppy eyes. I say: “I’m not really wanting to deal with this right now. Leave," and I shut the door. All seems well—until yesterday. She came over again and this time since I was busy with the baby, my husband handled her and threatened her with calling the authorities.
She leaves after throwing a fit. Last night, when my baby is asleep, I got a text from her. "Why didn't you let me see my granddaughter, I’m her grandma! I came all this way to see her and you deny me seeing her. I just wanted to hold her! Your father would have wanted me to see her”! I had to respond to this. I said: "You’re not my child's grandma. Only my mother and my husband’s mother are grandmas”.
I continue: “You weren’t married to my father, only engaged. I don't trust you with her either, as I have no clue if you're still using or recovering. I don't trust you either as you lost custody of my half-brother. I don't care what my father would want, as he was barely in my life, three months max if you include when I was born. Right now, I have multiple people in my home who are high risk. I told you you couldn’t come over, but you did anyway”.
I shut off my phone after this to get the little sleep I can get. Sometime this morning after I rocked and fed my daughter. I got a text from my "stepmom," asking for money for the hotel she stayed at. I hit decline and she sends it again, saying I owe her, since she couldn't stay at my place. I declined again and blocked her.
61. The Best Revenge Is Walking Away
This was when I was 18—I'm 34 now—so 2004-2005. Think pre-iPhone, but cell phones like the Nokia 3310 exist, which I had because my parents wanted to make sure I always could be contacted. I worked at a chain restaurant for six months, let's call it C. It was a completely new store. When we opened, we were the only building for eight blocks except for the sister restaurant next door that was part of the same investment group.
It was a decent upper-middle-class white neighborhood, so we'd get lots of people in the door. I was originally hired as To Go, but I was trained up in almost everything in the restaurant, and I frequently filled shifts, and I got the most hours for it. But it was the worst job I ever had, and still is. After getting shifted around to different homes, from To Go to QA to Host (sometimes Server), I eventually ended up in bus…AKA, cleaning tables.
They promised they would move me off of bus once we had bussers, but, as we'll find out later, that day never came. The main reason this happened is that we ran out of bussers. They tried hiring bussers at a rapid rate, but it didn't work. The average survival rate for a busser was dismal. It was just two weeks, including training time.
Eventually, our reputation of chewing out bussers made its rounds. No one would even show up for interviews for the job. See, at C, a pecking order had been established. At the top, you had the managers, then it was the servers, then it was the bar servers, restaurant servers, etc. Guess what was at the bottom? That's right, bussers.
Any time I spoke up about how people needed to pre-bus their tables, the reaction was brutal. People scoffed and said I should just do my job. I explained how I could clear an entire restaurant by myself if everyone pre-bussed their tables (30 seconds per table vs 8 minutes per table). Deaf ears. So, I have to explain why there's a huge time differential between a pre-bussed table and a total-bus table.
If the servers took every plate off the table, even if the table was grody, I could wipe it into my bucket, clean up a few things, wipe off the seat, reset the center of the table, and move on to the next table. I'd be in and out in 30 seconds and onto the next table. However, if I had to total bus a table, I'd have to take all of the plates and organize everything on the tab.
Well, two months into my "We're going to move you off of bussing once we find bussers," it’s a busy Saturday night. I'm talking one hour wait already, at 6:30 pm. Half the tables are currently dirty, and I'm working my behind off, but each table takes about five minutes because no one is pre-bussing tables. I'm told the priority is the restaurant, so I had to tell the bar waiters that they probably wouldn't be bussed at all because it would be so busy.
They were not having that. The on-shift AM (Assistant Manager) told me I should do my job, but I should still prioritize the restaurant, not the bar. Whatever. I'm constantly telling servers to pre-bus their tables, only to be ignored. It was a particularly bad night, so I asked if the dishwashers could help me out when I brought back my tabs instead of organizing everything myself.
They were nice, so they agreed, and it was a decent system, it cut out 2-3 minutes per table. It was still pretty awful, with lots of people wanting food. It still didn't help that I had to go back to the kitchen every time there was a full bus table. Enter Karen, Queen of the Bar Servers. Remember that pecking order I mentioned? Yeah, she was the queen of the server order.
She was one of the ones that constantly berated me for my job performance, despite the fact that I did more than almost anyone else in the restaurant. She made my last two months a living nightmare, constantly telling me I didn't do a good job, that she had to wait for me too long, etc. I constantly told the AMs and Manager about the disrespect I received, and they said "I should just man up”.
She never got a single write-up. One particularly busy Saturday night, Karen was a server in the bar side, which meant, she wasn't the priority. I told her that I couldn't bus her tables unless she pre-bussed them, and only if there weren't restaurant tables I needed to bus. She was constantly telling me I needed to bus HER tables and I was lazy, despite the fact that I had lifted over 300 tabs that night, she wasn't the priority.
She didn't pre-bus any of her tables, and she was always at the back dock taking a smoke break. That night, a nice couple saw me working on the table behind them, and politely asked if they could talk to their server so they could take their order. She had left them alone for 15 minutes while she was out there on the back dock flirting with one of the prep cooks.
She scoffed when I interrupted her flirting. Oh, I'm sorry, Karen, I'm sorry I interrupted your sixth flirting break today so you can do the thing you were hired to do. About 6:30 pm that night, the restaurant got flooded with people. One hour waits, and I had to push myself to the limit. I was flipping tables, despite absolutely zero of the servers pre-bussing.
However, since the restaurant was the priority, I couldn't get to her tables at all. Finally, we got a dip. I could finally get to her three tables, and none of them were pre-bussed. So, I have to do the full bussing for her tables, despite the fact that they have been vacant for almost 45 minutes! After the first table, she follows me back to the second table and tells me I need to hurry and I'm garbage at my job.
She tells me I'm making her lose money. I tell her to leave me alone and don't reprimand me in the front of the house. It was embarrassing, with bar patrons looking over their shoulder. I could see they honestly felt sorry for me. I was at the lowest point in my life at that point in time. I honestly felt like I was the worst human being in the world. Once she left, I stopped bussing for a second and sat down at the table for a breath.
I looked at the dirty half-full tab, and I got up. The table wasn't finished, and I left my dirty tab on the seat. I went to the To Go area in the back. It wasn't active, and this was before widespread internet. We got maybe 15 orders per night, so the managers had relegated To Go duties to the QA that serviced the rest of the restaurant. It was easily accessible for them, but it was also vacant at that point in time, since phone-in to-go orders were a relatively new and novel concept.
I knew just what to do. I put down my headset, turned it off, pulled out a To Go pad, and wrote a full note noting how this restaurant is going to go down the toilet unless the managers grow a pair and reprimand the staff for treating bussers like garbage. I then left, without telling anyone. I was called on my cell phone about 5 minutes into my drive home.
The assistant manager told me "You still have a shift”. My response was, "No, I don't. I quit”. Their response: "You still have a shift”. Again, my response was, "No, I don't need to be disrespected like I have. I quit”. She had the gall to repeat herself, "You still have a shift”. I hung up, and turned off my phone. It turned out that I left just in time for the dinner rush.
Saturdays we closed at midnight, so, for those last four hours it was the worst night ever. I was told that the AM prevented anyone from going home until 2 am because the restaurant was basically a trash basket by the end. Wait times at 10 pm were capped because they were WELL over two hours. Hosts told me later on that she had to turn away 40 families that night.
Some people just left while waiting for a table. Orders were getting misplaced. This information made it up to corporate, and they had to call in a fixer team to figure out what happened. They wanted to call me, but I wasn't going to talk to them. There was some restructuring in the business, the manager got "shifted to another position in the company," and the AM that called on staff was let go.
Karen got wrote up, relegated to the bad shifts, and eventually left. I didn't return for two months—this time, not as an employee, but as a customer. I was told all this by one of the remaining AMs, the one that actually treated me like a human being, and he gave me all of my tip-shares, which was nice. But there was a twist ending to it all.
The day after I left C, my best friend found an ad from a huge video game company that was looking for QAs. We applied that day and the following week, I got interviewed and hired on the spot. It was the beginning of my programming career. I advanced through that job, got over to automation programming, then got hired at other companies.
Now, I'm a senior programmer for a sheriff's office, with 14 years of programming experience.
62. Persistence Doesn’t Always Pay Off
My cousins go to a VERY ELITE PRIVATE all-boys school grade 6-12 in the New England region of the United States. So it's not uncommon to encounter an entitled parent and kid here or there. Now, let me state that my cousins are not entitled. They apply for financial aid and have campus jobs to afford the $60k a year tuition.
My older cousin is the student body president of the school. Because of this, he gets a room that is 1200 square feet, has a fully functional kitchen, and bathroom. The room also had a large living space, balcony, and office. The other rooms just have two beds, two closets, one desk, and a small window. They’re around 150 square feet.
Because my little cousin is related to the president, he was allowed to live in the room versus the standard dorms. My cousin's roommate was also the student body treasurer, so the dean allowed him to live in the room too, because he was my cousin's friend. With three guys living together, there was a surplus of video games and junk food, just guys being guys.
With the new semester starting, student body officers have to help with orientation, helping the parents get the first-year students settled in. This turned into a total disaster. Because little cousin was already settled in, he was just playing games on the PS4 with the door open. Queue entitled mom and kid. Mom: (Nice at first) “Excuse me”? My cousin: “Yes”?
Entitled mom: “I am looking for my son's dorm and I can't find it. Can you help me”? My cousin: “Hey, I'm new here myself so I don't know much. My brother is responsible for helping first years, so let me call him”. Entitled mother and her son wait for about 25 minutes for my older cousin to arrive. This whole time, my little cousin was playing games with the new kid on the PS4, eating junk food, and showing them around the room.
That’s when my older cousin arrives. He says: “Hey, you must be the mom trying to find her son's dorm”? The entitled mom, now rude, says: “Yes I've been waiting for someone to help me”! My older cousin first disregards her tone, as orientation day is hard. My older cousin goes on his phone with the info that the mom gives, and directs her.
Apparently, entitled kid only lives down the hallway to the left. Entitled mom leaves with the kid and his luggage. The entitled kid says in that gosh-awful voice as he's leaving, "I wanna play more games.”! Entitled mom says: "You can later”. Older Cousin has this "JEEZ" look on his face, closes the door, and plays on the PS4 with my little cousin. 10 minutes later, they are interrupted by a terrifying noise.
There are loud bangs on the door. My older cousin sees who it is. It's the entitled mom and her brat. They have returned with his luggage. She screams “I need your help NOW”! as the brat runs to the PS4. My cousin asks: “Uh, what seems to be the problem”? She starts whining: “My son's room is small! It's not like this one! Who do we talk to about this”?!
My cousin says: “Um, I'm sorry If you're unsatisfied with your living situation you'll have to talk to a counselor about his situation, and nobody has a room like this one because I'm the president”. The entitled kid starts rummaging through games and yells: “DO YOU HAVE FORTNITE”!? My cousin asks him to put the games down.
The entitled mom snaps. She yells: “Don't talk to my son that way! Besides, my son needs more living space DO SOMETHING”! The whole time, the entitled kid is still rummaging. That’s when my little cousin then pushes him to the side and locks the game cabinet. He starts screaming. At that moment, their roommate was also returning to the room with his lunch.
The kid screams: “I WANNA PLAY GAMES”! My little cousin replies: “This is our room and you can't use my things if I don't want you to”. The kid just keeps screaming, and roommate asks: “What's going on”? That’s when the entitled mother interrupts, yelling: “These boys won't help me find a room like this one for my son”! The roommate replies: “Oh, that's impossible, this is the only room that is like this one. Besides, this room is only for the president”.
That really sets the entitled mom off. She asks, condescendingly, “Then how come YOU'RE HERE”? The roommate explains the whole situation. The entitled mom then says to my older cousin and his roommate: “You should let my son live here”. Entitled kid overhears his mom. He now thinks that he lives in the room. He goes to the fridge and tries to get a soda.
My little cousin blocks him and says: “You are not our guest, nor do you live here, don't touch our food”. The kid immediately screams: “This is my room too! AND YOU HAVE TO SHARE”! My older cousin asks her to get her kid out, because he is a nuisance and bothering my brother. She says no. My older cousin and his roommate are not having it.
They ask her politely, yet firmly to leave. Her reaction was infuriating. The entitled mother walks in and proceeds to UNPACK her son's luggage. Entitled Kid is also having a fit because my little cousin isn't letting him have any food. He yells at his mom about it, and she says she’ll help him after she unpacks his things. My older cousin and his roommate firmly tell her “Your son is NOT living here”.
The woman replies: “Yes he is. My son is an angel. You should be glad to be friends with him”! My cousin replies: “I am not interested in living or being friends with your son, leave now”! The entitled mom ignores my older cousin and continues to unpack with her entitled kid still screaming" I want donuts”! He then screams at my little cousin: "I wanna play your games”!
My little cousin says "no”. The kid then starts screaming high-pitched. The three of them have had enough of this charade and they proceed to drag them out and throw his luggage in the hallway and lock the door. Entitled mom and son continue to bang and howl. Entitled mom "PROMISES" that she'll get her son back in. So she leaves.
At this time, friends were coming over and someone accidentally let the entitled kid in the room. Confused, the new people ask who he is. He claims he lives there, and then starts demanding to use the PS4. My older cousin sees him and kicks him out again. With him shouting "I WANT TO STAY”! his mom then returns with a security guard.
The mom says: “These boys kicked my son of out of HIS ROOM! DO SOMETHING”! The guard replies: “Lady, I know for a fact that your son doesn't live here”. She says: “He needs to stay here this room is much better than the other ones”! The security guard then asks if the mom is bothering them, and everybody says yes. He says "I'll take care of the mom"—but that’s not the best part.
He asks my cousins to take care of the kid. The entitled kid is dragged out again. The mom was escorted off the campus grounds. My older cousin and his roommate forcibly moved the entitled kid into his room for him. My little cousin ended up becoming friends with the entitled kid's roommate as the months passed. The entitled kid has been so bratty and annoying that his roommate has had sleepovers with my cousins almost every night.
Because of this, the entitled kid packs an overnight bag and almost always follows his roommate and demands to be let in. My cousins and the two roommates have to turn the volume on the TV louder to tune out his pleas and crying. One day, they woke to him sleeping in front of their door at 6 am. He stayed there for 10 HOURS.
63. He Was Diabetic, She Was Diabolical
I am a 16-year-old guy. I’m pretty normal. I play video games, hang out with friends, have a good job, all that. But the only abnormal thing about me is that I have type 1 diabetes. I have been diagnosed for about a bit more than a year and a half. I’ve kept good control over it and the doctors are always impressed when I have a check-up.
Bragging aside, I am a junior in a pretty small high school in the middle of Kansas. One of the things I do is I take insulin 10 to 15 minutes before I eat so it has time to get into effect. With the school lunch there are two options: a chicken salad and a cheeseburger. I decided to go with the cheeseburger. I take my insulin and go up the line.
There are two separate tables each with two white to go boxes with the food in them. I grab a box from the left table and before I take two steps my friend points out to me that that’s the salad. I set the box back down and go to grab the other box but the lunch lady shouts at me. “Hey, don’t you dare”! I look at her and she looks at me like I just slapped a puppy in the face.
I ask what’s wrong and she said that I had already grabbed the salad so I have to take the salad. (Note. I didn’t even open the box). I explained to her that I’m a diabetic and already took insulin. She shakes her head and says in a sickly sweet tone, “I’m sorry, that’s not my problem. Take the salad and go sit down now”!
I tried once more to tell her the situation but she just pointed at the salad table and tells me to take the salad or I don’t get anything. I’m a little angry at this point so I take the salad and go off to my table with my friends and tell them the situation. They removed the vending machines in the cafeteria over the summer so there was no way for me to get the correct amount of carbs without stealing another kid’s cheeseburger.
One of my friends tells me I should go get the principal quickly before the insulin fully sets in. I go to the office and tell him and the counselor the situation a little panicked because it had been well over 10 minutes since I took insulin. I’m very tight with the principal so he walked me back up to the cafeteria and talked to the lunch lady.
He tells her “LL, give him the cheeseburger. He really needs it”. She responds to him by saying. “But he already took a salad. He can deal with it”. Principal just sighs, grabs the cheeseburger box, shoves it into my hands, and tells me to go sit down. I listen to him and walk back to the table. I sit relatively close to the lunch line so I and my friends can barely hear the principal talk to her. “How you acted was truly out of line. I thought you understood to treat his and (other diabetic kids) situation with care and understanding”.
He went on for another minute and ended up just telling her off and heading back to his office and I ate in peace. I’m glad that she got told off and maybe she’ll know better next time.
64. One-Sided Sibling Rivalry
When I was a teenager I was originally saving to buy a scooter to have fun riding around town on. But on my 15th birthday my dad gave me an engine kit for my bicycle and convinced me to get a Learner's Permit and keep saving to buy a car instead. Even after moving in with my dad, I continued doing odd jobs and earning money any way I could.
My dad asked his brother (my uncle) to teach me to drive because he worked as a driving instructor for a while in the 90s. I slowly got pretty good at it. Right after my 16th birthday rolled around we went to the DMV to schedule a driving test. I passed on my first try thanks to all the practice I got beforehand. Not long after getting my license, my dad decided it was time I worked part-time for him at his business after school.
I was happy because it would make me double the money I was already saving from odd jobs. Before I knew it I'd doubled my savings. While I had chosen to live with my father and my sister didn't, dad still had a room prepared for my sister when she came to visit. For the first few months or so Sis didn't bother to come visit. But eventually, dad convinced her to come over one day a week on Saturday.
Dad always picked her up so I wouldn't have to see my mom. Thankfully, she didn't really wanna see me either. My sister by this point stopped asking me for money or trying to break into my room since I was living in my dad's house and not mom's. But she loved to game on the game systems we had at dad's house. Sis would pretty much spend all Saturday night playing games in the den and drinking Coke.
That's probably the main reason why she even wanted to come visit since she didn't have an XBOX 360 or flatscreen TV at mom's house. Eventually, after just over 6 months of working at my dad's business, he approached me with an offer to find a car I liked. He said if I found a good reliable used one that was the right price, he'd help me buy it and would put it on his insurance. I was ecstatic—but I didn’t know it would turn into a total nightmare.
I started looking at local ads and found a silver 98 Toyota Camry with under 50,000 miles on it for sale. It was in great shape, save for the fact that the rear bumper had been dented and a few windows were broken along with a badly cracked windshield because it was vandalized by some thug. The seller offered it to me at $3,500 with the damage.
But my dad talked him down to $3,000 because of the money it'd cost to get it fixed. I bought the car and it went right to a local auto body mechanic my dad was friends with. When we went to pick up the car it looked almost brand new because he'd replaced the broken windows, pulled any dents, and touched up and shined the paint with a buffer. I was overjoyed and thanked him and my father profusely.
I bought the car. But my dad paid for all the repairs. He never told me how much though. But that car was my main ride for the next ten years if you can believe it. And I eventually sold it to a cousin on my dad's side for his first car. But that's not what you're here to read. When my sister first saw the car in Dad's driveway, she asked whose it was. Sis: "Hey? Who's car is this? Is someone else visiting? Me: "Nope. That's my car”. Sis: "No way”!
Me: "Yes way! I just bought it and dad helped me get it fixed. It runs like new”. Then my sister just got really quiet and went back in the house to play more video games. She didn't really speak to me for the rest of the time she was visiting that week. I started driving the car to and from high school, and I got a fair amount of attention for it.
My sister however had complained to our mother after going back home about my new car. Somehow she couldn't process the fact that I'd gotten a car and she didn't, even though she is three years younger than me and was only 13 at the time. She started making a stink to our mom about how she wanted a car too. And mom called me on my cell phone to yell at me for starting this problem.
I told her there was no problem. I bought a car with money I earned. And now I'm driving it. And if Sis wants a car too, then she can either work hard and save up like I did, or hope she gets one as a gift. Mom just got mad at me and said it really wasn't fair. I pointed out there really wasn't a fairness issue at all as Sis wasn't even old enough to get a learner's permit yet, let alone a car.
Mom just said I wasn't being supportive of my sister's feelings. And that when she is old enough to drive I should at least lend her the car when she needs it or give her driving lessons. I bluntly said that wasn't happening as I bought it with my own money, and it'd be put in my name when I turned 18. Plus she couldn't dictate what I do with the car because I didn't live with her anymore.
Mom just angrily huffed, called me a jerk and hung up on me. I thought that was the end of it, but it wasn't. My sister started visiting less after that. She got mad at me one day just for washing my car outside. In a fit of anger, she picked up some dirt off the ground and chucked it at the side of my car. But I just sprayed the spot with the hose and it looked like it was never there.
So my sister just stomped back in the house and didn't talk to me again. After that, she only came over for one more week again. When she came to visit she always had a big backpack with her because she'd bring clothes and other stuff in it. She didn't keep many things at dad's house. But the next morning when she left she was wearing the same clothes. Which was unusual because she never did that back then.
She said she'd just die if she wore the same outfit two days in a row. I later found out the reason for this. When I next went into the den, the PS2, GameCube, and original XBOX were destroyed. And the flatscreen TV had part of its screen smashed. The XBOX 360 was also missing. I then realized she'd hidden it in her backpack and taken it.
The other game systems she smashed and left what remained of them sitting on the TV stand. I checked the various games for the systems and Sis had removed a bunch of the discs from their cases and stolen them as well. And she took all of the memory cards too. When I told dad he was pretty mad. He called my mom and she actually said that since I got the car, letting Sis keep the XBOX 360 and the games was the least he could do.
Then she smugly said that Sis didn't want to come visit anymore. Dad angrily told her she better stop sounding so happy about it or he was gonna make her pay for all the damages. Mom just snorted and finally allowed him to talk to my sister. My dad was pretty heartbroken Sis had done all that. He'd been trying so hard to get her to appreciate him more.
But Sis admitted over the phone that she hated him for divorcing mom. And her taking the XBOX 360 and destroying the TV and other game systems was, as our mother called it, "compensation for her pain". Dad could have called his lawyer to sue for more custody rights. But he believed that if she didn't want to be there, he wouldn't force her.
From then on, over the next decade, I barely saw either my sister or mother. Dad didn't bother to try and get the XBOX 360 back. He said that it and the other stuff Sis broke were just things that could be replaced, and bought new ones. But I could tell he was really hurt by what mom and Sis had done. He actually left my sister's room pretty much untouched for the next few years. But she never came back to use it.
From the way my sister is now though, you'd never guess she was the same person. She's extremely ashamed of her actions back then and wishes she could take it all back and apologize to dad. But can't since he died some time ago. We visited his grave recently and she cried over it. It’s really sad.
65. Nursing A Grudge
This goes back 28 years, when I became a mother for the first time. I delivered a healthy baby boy and promptly 24 hours later, the hospital released us, and off I went in complete happiness with my new bundle of joy. My mother came home with my husband and me to help us for the first week. Within a few days, something horrible began to happen.
It became apparent my son’s skin was turning a horrid shade of yellow. My mom assured me it was most likely jaundice and that he would probably need extra sunlight. We took him to the pediatrician, who felt that it was dire enough that he would be better off in the hospital under some blue lights. His instructions were extremely specific.
He said, "Mom, I want you to go right to the hospital. You will be sleeping at the hospital for the next several nights. I am calling ahead so they have everything set up for you. Since you are breastfeeding, I want you to feed him as much as he will take, every two hours, and pump afterward, so there is a supply on hand. The rest of the time, sleep as much as possible. Get him settled in, feed him, then go pack a bag and come back”.
He then hugged me because he had been my doctor since I was 13 and he just delivered my first baby, and was my baby's doctor too, and our entire family adored this man and trusted him completely. The hospital was literally across the street. I was ready to cry. I felt like maybe I had done something wrong, or my baby would not be in this predicament.
I was breastfeeding but it was a struggle, and so I just felt like a failure. I also do not do well with confrontation. Combine that with the hormones raging through my body, and well, I was a mess. I arrive at the hospital and they usher us upstairs. I had just been discharged a few days before, and a few nurses recognized me. I approached the counter, where I encountered Nurse Ratchet for the first time.
She started by looking up from her paperwork as if I am bothering her. "May I help you”? Me: “Yes, Doctor asked me to come check in, he said he called ahead and”. I explained the whole story, including the explicit instructions for breastfeeding. She looked at me over her glasses and sighed a little. "I've been doing this a long time, and what your baby needs, are the blue lights, and FORMULA. You don't have good enough breast milk or he wouldn't be in this situation. So let's get him checked in, and then you can go home. We will call you when he is ready to be picked up”.
What followed was total silence. The urge to cry was rising up inside of me like a surging volcano about to erupt, and my eyes filled with tears. I was not one to buck an authority figure back then. Somehow I found my voice, and I said, "MY DOCTOR SAID I am to stay HERE, and breastfeed my son every two hours. He is NOT to have formula. We want to breastfeed him and only breastfeed him”.
My mom and my husband were looking at me and they could not believe I had spoken up. My mom told me later she was about to go off on that nurse but I spoke up. Nurse Ratchet seemed quite offended that I dare speak to her in that manner. She replied, rather rudely, "Fine! You can feed him back here”! and I followed her to the nursery.
It was divided in two sections, and one section was closed, and full of extra newborn cribs, folding chairs, and equipment not in use. It was cold and dark. She pulled out a folding chair, looked at me, and said, "You have exactly 20 minutes”! and she stormed out. Well, that did it. Now I was being TIMED, when I was barely learning how to feed my baby.
My baby was sick, and I had to feed him in a cold, dark room, on a folding chair, when I had been using a pillow and a comfortable chair. I was despondent and began to cry. All I could do was hold my baby and cry and cry and cry. I didn't even feed him. He was sleeping soundly, while I bawled my eyes out, telling him over and over, "Mommy is sooo sorry baby. So, so sorry”!
I waited there until far after my time was up, because I thought Nurse Ratchet was coming back for me to check my baby and I into a room. A bit later, a nurse comes in and I startled the heck out of her. Nice nurse said, "Oh honey, what are you DOING in here”? So I explained the entire story, again, and I am sobbing at this point. She came over and hugged me and said, "Honey, honey, I do not know what that nurse was thinking but this is not at all how we do things! Come with me and let's get you all set up”.
I followed her, and for the first time, felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The baby was beginning to get hungry, so I hung my head in shame and told her I had not been able to feed the baby in the 20 minutes I was allowed, was there please someplace I could sit and do that now? Nice nurse was the most precious human being on the planet next to my newborn son right at that moment.
She took me to a room reserved for parents of babies who must stay in the hospital. I had a private room. She brought me sheets and pillows for the fold-out couch. She brought me their professional breast pump machine and set me up with a professional pumping kit. I was able to feed my son, get him under the blue lights, and then head home for a quick pack of clothing, and be able to return in time for his next feeding.
In case I ran late, I left two bottles of pumped breast milk for him. We returned a little more than an hour later. I walked in, looked for my baby, and panicked. He was not under the blue lights. I did a little more searching and found Nurse Ratchet, with my son in her arms, and she was feeding him a bottle of, you guessed it…FORMULA!
The mama bear in me reared her protective head and I just about lost it. I knocked on the glass furiously until she looked up. That woman had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. She came out and asked what I needed. Me: "I explained to you that we are strictly breastfeeding our baby. We do not want him to have formula. I will take him now for his feeding”.
Nurse: "What you don't seem to understand is formula is better. He needs to rid his body of bilirubin and the formula will bind to it better than breastmilk. If you breastfeed, he is just going to be here longer. Is that what you want? For your baby to be in the hospital longer, hmmm”? Me: “MY DOCTOR SAID I AM TO BREASTFEED ONLY. I WILL TAKE MY BABY NOW”.
Nurse: “Finnneeeeee! Suit yourself”! She plopped him into my arms, and off I went to my private room, to breastfeed my son, and then pump. That was my life for three nights and four days. The nurses would wake me at night, every two hours, and I would feed, then pump, then sleep. Day 4, he was a bright pink healthy baby and we got to take him home. My husband called our doctor and told him what that Nurse Ratchet had done.
On the second day, he came to check on us, and later I had the pleasure of witnessing my doctor give Nurse Ratchet a good mouthful of what he thought of her. He was furious and she really got chewed out good. She was told to no longer have anything to do with our family. Two years and 3 days after my son was born, I gave birth to my daughter in that same hospital.
Upon arrival in Labor and Delivery, Nurse Ratchet was once again on duty. The nurse who checked us in was wonderful. I pointed to Nurse Ratchet and I said, "You see that woman over there? (I didn’t even call her a nurse) We do not want THAT WOMAN ANYWHERE NEAR our new baby that is on the way. She was a nightmare two years ago and I will not be stressed out or bullied by her again. We also do NOT want our new baby fed formula for any reason, unless it is unavoidable. We plan to breastfeed. "
I love that I had finally found my voice! The nurse checking us in smiled at me, a great big smile, and said, "I absolutely understand and you will not have to worry about her at all" We never laid eyes on her again. Unfortunately, I have never forgotten her, or the damper she put on what was otherwise the most wonderful, yet scary time of my life.
She could have been nice. She could have been kind. She could have been understanding. She also could have followed doctor's orders but apparently, her vast experience as a nurse made her more knowledgeable, and more entitled, about what was best for my baby.
66. Not All Leeches Live In The Water
My wife's Aunt Louise is a great lady. She and her husband lived in the SF Bay area, and bought their home in the late 1970s. After her husband passed a few years ago, she sold her home for over $1 million and moved back to live closer to her family where she grew up (farming areas in southern CA). She's in her late 60s. Aunt Louise had three children, who are now all in their 40s.
The two oldest are nice, normal people. Her youngest, Kay, is a real piece of work. She meets all the criteria for a psychological diagnosis of narcissism. This is just one of literally dozens of stories I could tell. Kay's husband Pedro was a good provider. About 10 years ago, things began going well, and he began making pretty good money.
To Kay, however, higher-income meant more spending, and soon she was buying a new car every two years. They went on cruises. She had all the latest and greatest gadgets. As the old MTV tag line used to go, "Too much is never enough". To augment her lifestyle, she would routinely run to her mom (Aunt Louise) with a sob story or another.
We don't know the true figure, but I've heard rumors that Aunt Louise has given her more than $20,000 over the past few years. Kay and Pedro managed to keep their heads above water, but when COVID hit and the state of California ordered economic shutdown, money became tight. Then in October, the company went out of business. He found another job, but was essentially starting his career over.
Naturally, they'd begun fighting about money, and two weeks ago it comes to ahead. After hearing the blasphemous word "no" one time too many, Kay announces she's getting a divorce. Being in California, she naturally expected the courts were going to give her one last payday from this poor guy—her car, their house, his 401K, and generous alimony.
However, in her greed, she forgot that Pedro had kept draining his 401K to pay off credit cards. And all those papers about the house she was signing every couple of years was to refinance their house to pay off more credit cards, so there's almost no equity. And with having to start his career over, alimony wasn't going to be that great.
So Kay does what she always does, goes running to her mother. Aunt Louise is naturally sympathetic and urges Kay to try and reconcile, but failing that, she might be able to help her out. Literally two hours later, Kay texts Aunt Louise with a photo of a pricey condo, and asks for $100K to cover her down payment and costs to furnish it.
Aunt Louise naturally pushes back, telling Kay that "helping out" didn't mean $100K. She had meant letting Kay live with her while she got back on her feet, writing a check for security deposit and first months' rent, and maybe helping with some car payments. At this point, Kay totally flips out. Here are the things my wife said were direct quotes.
"I can't believe my own mother would be so selfish”! "What difference does $100K make, you're not going to spend it all anyway" (meaning before Aunt Louise dies!) "Just sell some stocks or something" Aunt Louise fortunately does have someone who manages her money, but she stays on a strict allowance. After Aunt Louise held out, Kay has begun polluting Facebook with passive-aggressive messages about finding out peoples' true colors.
My wife is actually HOPING she calls to ask for help, specifically so she can let her have it with both barrels.
67. Even A Blind Person Could See That This Lady Sucks
It’s actually sad how often this sort of thing happens. I mean, being a blind girl, instances of ignorant people are daily. But entitled parents represent a certain level of infamy for me. Since my parents are more at-risk from COVID, I’ve been going shopping alone more and more often during the pandemic. Yesterday was one of these cases.
Grocery shopping is a more involved process for a blind person, I have to ask a staff member to assist me. I also have my guide dog, Gumbo, inside with me. The dog can increase the instances of bad experiences. Now, during my shopping, I always get a wide array of reactions to my dog. But this one was the worst I've ever seen.
I heard loud footsteps, followed by the loud screech of “That doggy is so cute! Can I pet him!”? It was obviously a small child by the voice, so I prepared myself before responding that no, my dog cannot be touched due to him being a guide dog. Surprisingly, the child didn’t act entitled. But seemed surprised and excited about a dog having a job. She (I believe it was a she) asked me a few questions, and then left.
I thought nothing of it and continued with my shopping. After I finished, I decided to stop by the food court on the way out for some lunch. So I went and made my way across the supermarket. I ordered my food, sat down, and waited. But by some cosmic gracing of bad luck that is the exact moment that this child and their parent decided to walk close by.
I heard the child tell the mother about what I told her. About how my dog is working as a guide dog, that I’m blind, and use him to get around, etc. The mother isn’t really saying anything but I can sort of tell by her tone and the few words she does say that she is seeing some issue with what her daughter was told. I decided to listen in and after the daughter finished her babbling, the mother came up to me.
Now as I said, people coming up to me is super common. I thought nothing much of it. However, the first words out of her mouth were: “Why did you tell my daughter you’re blind”? Her tone was very harsh, very accusatory. I immediately knew what was coming but, as usual, I put on a smile. Me: “Because I am blind. Your daughter asked me about my dog, so I explained what guide dogs are and why we use them”
Her: “You’re not blind” Me: “Excuse me”? The straight words caught me off guard. Her: “You’re not blind. My cousin is blind, so I know what a blind person is like. You shouldn’t lie about that. I think you should let my daughter pet the dog, she likes dogs. It’s pretty awful to refuse a child something like that” My hackles rose slightly.
Me: “Well, ma’am. Not all blind people are the same. Just because you know a single blind person, doesn’t mean you know how all blind people are. And as I already explained, your daughter can’t pet my dog due to him being a seeing-eye dog”. Her: “Why are you lying? Your eyes are completely fine. You’re using a phone! Don’t say you’re blind if you’re gonna show you’re not at the same time! Why would you lie about this”?
Me: “Excuse me, but I am not lying. My eyes looking ‘fine’ have nothing to do with anything. Not every blind person’s eyes look the same. Look, you’re stressing me out. I’d rather you just left me alone”. Her: “My daughter wants to pet your dog! She’s been well behaved all through today and it’s more than reasonable to let her pet the dog!’ Me: “I said no. I don’t know why you can’t just accept my answer”.
Her: “You said no using that BS excuse! You’re honestly starting to make me angry, I don’t know who you think you are, but I happen to work for [I can’t actually remember where she said], and if you don’t stop it, I’ll get security to throw you and your fake guide dog out of here”! Now I’m sure you get the picture. This went on for a good 5 minutes of her getting progressively more and more angry at the fact I wouldn’t let her daughter pet my dog.
The daughter was actually silent through the whole thing. I don’t really think she even cared that much. The mother, however, was a raging psycho. Eventually, she screamed out: “That’s it! I’m going to get security! If you’re smart you’ll be gone by the time I get back or you’ll regret it”! I snorted at her small fit and heard her huff and storm off.
By that time my food had arrived so I started eating. I didn’t really believe she’d go to get security, but with entitled parents, you cannot be sure. About, I dunno, five minutes or so went by of me eating. I was enjoying my fries, browsing the internet in bliss. But of course, she returned. I heard her stupid stomping from like 15 feet away.
She was raging on to a security guard. Her: “Look! That’s her! You see? She’s sitting there with a dog! She says it’s a guide dog but she’s not blind! You have to kick her out, dogs aren’t allowed”! I sighed and removed an earbud to prepare for the incoming ordeal. A deep male voice sounded from a few feet in front of me. He sounded rather defeated.
He said: “Uh, Miss, is this a service dog”? Me: “Yes, it is. He is a seeing-eye dog. I am allowed to take him in here. I have a copy of the appropriate law if you need it”? Guard: “No that’s fine. I know service dogs are allowed. This woman is saying you aren’t disabled though, is that true”? Me: “No. She’s just angry that I didn’t let her daughter touch my dog. I honestly don’t know why she cares”
Her: “Because you’re a liar! I told you, I have a blind cousin! Don’t try to tell me I don’t understand blind people because I do”! Me: (I directed my attention to the security guard) “I’ve tried to explain to her that one blind person doesn’t represent all blind people, but she doesn’t seem to get it. Could you please ask her to leave me alone? I just wanna eat in peace”
Guard: “So you are blind”? Me: “Yes, I am” Guard: “Can you prove it in any way”? Me: “Uh, no, how could I do that? And why”? Guard: “Well, it’s just that she is saying one thing, you’re saying another thing. I don’t exactly know who to believe. But yeah I see how proving you’re blind doesn’t really work”. (He spoke to the woman) “Why is it exactly that you think she’s lying”?
Her: “Are you serious? Are you thick? Look at her eyes! They’re not white or cloudy like blind people’s are. She’s literally looking at a freaking phone”! SG1: (He spoke to me) “Uh, what’s your response”? Me: (I sighed) “Maybe her cousin has those eye symptoms, but not every blind person does. Those symptoms are caused by diseases like cataracts, which I don’t have. As for the phone, devices have been accessible to the blind for years. I find it surprising she has a cousin who is blind and doesn’t know that”.
Her: “No I saw you look at the phone! You were LOOKING at it”! Me: “I have basic light perception. I can detect light. I direct my eyes to it out of habit because that’s where my hands are occupied. Look it’s not my job to educate you on what you don’t know”. (I spoke to the guard) “Please, please just ask her to leave me alone. I don’t care if she doesn’t believe me, you don’t need to stand here and mediate a back and forth as if we’re going to agree. I’d just like her to stop talking to me and leave me in peace. I’m feeling extremely harassed”.
Guard: “Yeah I get that. It’s just that, I can’t know for sure if you’re blind, so she might have a valid point”. Me: “What? That applies to every blind person. How can anyone prove that? If she has no reasons for me lying then shouldn’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt”? Guard: “I don’t know, she said her cousin is blind, she probably knows something about it” Me: (I paused for a second) “Wow. I’m not even going to bother. Look, if you’re not going to get her away from me then I’m just going to leave. Thanks for failing to protect a disabled patron”.
I stood up to leave, my dog getting up to guide me. I took a few steps and suddenly felt someone grab hold of my harness handle tightly and pull me to a stop. Her: “Wait! I said I wanted you to let my daughter pet the dog. THEN you can leave”. Me: “NO! GET OFF MY HARNESS! GET OFF”! Now understand, grabbing my harness is akin to someone taking away your eyes. She was impeding my means of navigating. So I panicked.
This has only happened to me once before and I panicked then too. I attempted to pull my harness handle back, all the while screaming. “GET OFF! LET GO! HELP”! And her screaming in my ear about...actually I wasn’t exactly listening as I was too busy screaming. But I assume it had something to do with her daughter. The security guard was fumbling around fairly uselessly. Eventually, another security guard hurried over.
I heard him bark out. Guard 2: “What’s going on”?! Me: “SHE’S TAKING MY GUIDE DOG! HELP ME! SHE WON’T LET GO”! Her: “No! She’s supposed to let my daughter pet her dog! He said so”! (I assume she pointed to the guard) The guard didn’t respond, but the way the conversation went, it seemed like he non-verbally indicated that he hadn’t said that.
Guard 2: “Miss, let go of the lady’s dog, right now. Or I’ll need you to leave”. Her: “No! She’s not blind! The dog isn’t real! Don’t just jump in and assume you know what’s going on”! Me: (I had calmed slightly, so I could speak in a more coherent manner) “Please just get her off of me. I want to leave. I don’t feel safe. Let me leave”! Guard 2: “Hey you’re alright miss, everything’s gonna be fine”
I then felt the woman’s hand being forcibly removed from the handle. As soon as I was free, I immediately commanded Gumbo to lead me to the exit. We walked quickly. I heard the woman screeching loudly behind me. The man shouting: “Calm down! Just stop screaming”! I was still somewhat panicked, but I was able to calm myself down as I hurried toward the exit.
It was so chaotic I very nearly forgot my shopping where I left it at customer services, because I didn’t want to have it around me in the food court where it could be snatched. I left, called a taxi, and came home. It has really stuck with me for the last couple days. But the worst part is that these types of interactions are an almost daily occurrence.
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68. When Family Is The Real Dead Weight
My two brothers have always been naturally skinny and maintained an active lifestyle throughout most of their life. I, on the other hand, was born on the pudgier side and never really had an interest in sports other than swimming but didn't get (nor want at the time) to work on that hobby. By the time I was in the army, I was quite heavy at 246 pounds.
While I was never teased about my weight, my family and especially my mother enjoyed poking fun at it: my eating habits, mom rolling her eyes whenever someone commented I've lost weight, and so on. Since she was (and still is) quite the blob herself, I just ignored her or commented as such. But, being stationed in a far-away base where combat units were also serving, most of the guys in my base were quite fit.
I wasn't assigned a combative role due to a medical condition. No, it didn't have to do anything with weight, but a very minor birth defect that I was rid of by the time I was 12. The army said they "didn't want to take any chances to put me in harm’s way”. So, instead of putting me in a combat role, they decided to have me on the oh-so-safe field of heavy-duty machinery.
Anyway, again most of the men serving in my unit were very fit and very muscular and while I was never jealous of them nor teased for being fat, one day I just took a good look in the mirror and was like "Hmm. I can do better”. And so I decided to start and change things; I'd watch very carefully what I ate, drank mostly water, joined the boys on their evening jogs, convince my sergeant friend to get me access to their gym and have him train me in Krav-Maga a few times a week if he was able to.
I kept on to what I was doing and was very strict at keeping at it until I reached my target weight. Soon enough I had to pay a visit to the quartermaster's and get a smaller-sized uniform. After a year and a half of regular exercise, weight lifting, and a healthy diet, I lost a lot of weight (a few pounds shy of the target) and built quite a lot of muscle mass.
In all honesty, it was my sergeant friend who convinced me to visit their gym and encouraged me to lose weight. Man, am I glad I listened. While I was very proud of the progress I've made, my family, who have teased me about my big fat behind for most of my life, weren't as happy as I was. Instead, they said nothing. The teasing has stopped but there wasn't much beyond that.
Other than a semi-compliment like "Did you take this shirt from one of your brothers”? whenever I wore something that actually fit me or "Why are you still wearing this huge thing”? if I kept clothing from the time I was bigger. I still got comments during meals if I took an extra scoop but whatever, I didn't care, I didn't lose weight to get compliments.
Moving on, by the time I turned 22, I was back into civilian life as well as working myself through university with a part-time job. Also, during that time I have saved enough to afford a membership at a gym close to campus. While I was being the healthiest and most physically fit I've ever been my entire life, my older brother wasn't faring as well.
He had stopped jogging and was getting chubbier every day. He's still not obese by any chance but he's not nearly as fit as he used to be (and he's only in his late 30s). It only got worse at family gatherings, especially weddings where a lot of distant relatives and those we don't get to meet often would also be present. Also, I'm a massive introvert so fully packed events are not my thing.
I'd often avoid those and barely even met with my extended family during my service. So you can imagine some of my relatives shock seeing me over a hundred lbs. lighter, some didn't even recognize me. I guess my brother got some comments from people because he'd no longer look smug whenever he looked at me. About eight months into my membership there, my mom sat me down (I was still living at home) and the conversation went as follows:
Me: “What's up? Is everything ok”? My mom: “Everything is fine honey but I just wanted to talk to you about something”. I already had a bad feeling. These conversations always seemed to be about me doing something wrong. My mom: “Well, you know your father and I are very proud of how far you've come, you're looking very handsome”. Me: “Thanks mom”.
My mom: “But, me and dad are little worried. With all the expenses we have along with your tuition and not your gym membership, we're getting a little tight. Can you cancel your membership please? We can no longer afford it”. Me: “Uh, mom you guys don't pay for my gym membership. I do”. BM: “And who gave you that money”?
Me: “It's money I've saved from birthdays, allowance (from way back when) and work. Also, I'm on a scholarship so you do know you guys aren't paying for school either right”? My mom: (getting frustrated) “Well, you can't go to your gym anymore”. Me: “And why is that”? My mom: “Because we (she and dad) think your older brother should use it instead. He really wants to go to that gym but he can't afford it. It really depresses him, don't you think it's mean of you to keep going there while he cannot”?
Me: “Mom, be real, he makes twice the money I make so he can afford a gym membership on his own. That said, the gym isn't located anywhere near his apartment”. My mom: “That doesn't matter. We decided that you can't go anymore, it's not fair towards your brother. You're going to cancel your membership and that's final”.
Me: “No”. My mom: “Well, I will be giving them a call to cancel it for you (impossible unless she can imitate my voice and had my credit card). Stop being selfish and be more fair towards your brother. Why can't you just do this one thing for your brother? It's bad enough he stopped he quit jogging, you're not helping with what you're doing! Come on! Be more considerate! Also, think about your father”.
Me: “Dad has a problem with me working out too”? My mom: “You know how can barely move with his bad back”! Me: “Mom, dad can move just fine. Just yesterday I helped him clear out the garage”. He had his own gym membership which he had to quit only recently due to covid. My mom: “You're not being fair”! Me: (holding onto my last nerve) “Mom, I'm not going to stop working out because some 30+ man baby hates seeing me getting healthier while he tries tucking in his gut. If my looser jeans affect my brother so much, he can get up and do something about it. Funny, how you've never said anything to either of (my brothers) to tone it down while I was fat”.
My mom: “How dare you say that about your brother”? At that point, I just got up and went on my business while she sulked and gave me the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. However, during meal times she'd try to get me to eat (a lot more) more or cook very fatty things, buy only sugar-packed drinks, bring up fast food places whenever we went eating out, and then get mad at me whenever I said that McDonald’s is not a restaurant.
Whatever she tried to do didn't work, and I soon began buying my type of soft drinks myself or just drink more water if I drank anything that wasn't either sugar-free or diet. Now, even though my dad supported my older brother, he didn't say much and I have no idea why she even brought him up. I lived with them for four more years until I've saved enough to move out in 2015. After that, I cut all contact with the three of them.
69. A Wild Karen Appears
This happened this morning between 9 and 10 am. I went to the supermarket to grab a few things for lunch and dinner. It's early and slow so the store only had the self-checkout and one register open. As got to the register I see a young woman, early twenties, with a sleeping baby in her arms and a basket with formula, diapers, over-the-counter baby items, for diaper rash, and several prescriptions that were paid for at the pharmacy.
The girl gets to the register before me and then I saw the rampaging Karen come out of the aisle right in front of me. I knew there'd be trouble from the oversized sunglasses, Karen Haircut, yoga pants three sizes smaller than they should have been, that I'll bet had never seen the inside of a gym or yoga studio. She has maybe a dozen items in her cart.
At the time, the clerk, the 20-something, and I are wearing the required masks, but of course; Karen can't be bothered. The store has markings on the floor for social distancing, but of course, that doesn't apply to the wild Karen. The young mother is holding the sleeping baby and trying to fish her wallet out of her small purse, while also holding the diaper bag and usual baby accessories.
The cashier hadn't even finished ringing the girl up when the wild Karen start in a loud voice complaining about “unprepared shoppers” not even having their money ready. Karen's cart is almost touching the 20-something's leg. Naturally, Karen's complaint at full volume had the unfortunate effect of waking the sleeping infant who registered his displeasure by letting anyone within hearing know.
The mother was attempting to calm the infant and still get her wallet out of her purse. The fact that Karen had to wait and now had to listen to the infant she woke up, caused another nasty rant. I'm in line behind Karen at this point—and then she gets on my last nerve. She's been breathing the cashier for not being fast enough and then God only knows what lack of brain cells caused her to do this, but snaps at the young mother that “she should make that brat be quiet”.
She then decided to attack the girl snapping that if she didn't dress like a “tramp” she wouldn't have gotten “knocked up”. Since it was obvious that her jeans were too tight as was her top. For Christ's sake, she had a baby a couple of months before. The young mother was beet-red, the cashier was in shock, the infant not liking the noise was letting it be known that he wasn't happy.
Karen had gotten on my last nerve and being old, sick, and in a bad mood and with a worse temper, I let loose. I slipped up past Karen and tossed my card to the cashier, and told her the young lady's bill is on me. That got Karen to start again only for me to loudly say, “Shut up, I'm as tired of your mouth as the little man is”!
That stunned Karen only sputtered while the young mother thanked me and gave the infant her full attention. Karen is fuming and starts heaving her items onto the belt, but apparently, her mouth recovered before her brain. As soon as the cashier finished ringing her up and asked for payment, Karen turned toward me and sneered, “Well aren't you going to pay for mine as well”?
I was done with her and responded, “No, I don't like people who wake up sleeping infants with their big mouths”. She huffed and stormed out, I was hoping for an "I demand to speak to the Manager", but you can't have everything. I headed to my car and was pulling out of the parking lot when the saw the young mother sitting at the bus stop holding the infant.
Buses out where I live run every hour, so I decided to offer her a ride. Turns out she lived only a couple of miles away, under five minutes by car but a couple of hours on foot carrying a baby and supplies. She took the risk that I was a creep since I snapped at Karen's rant. I learned that she and her husband we new to the area, and that they had moved for his job.
I asked her about the little man and learned that as her husband got paid they bought more of the stuff the baby needed, but right now they were making do with what they had. I wrote an address down and told her that if her husband was off Saturday, she should have him bring them to the address for a yard sale with tons of baby stuff my niece was getting rid of.
She told me that she'd do that and thanked me again for everything. I dropped them off and made it home, and gave my niece a call describing the girl and infant and telling her to give the couple anything they liked and I cover whatever they couldn't afford. I like babies and have no tolerance for Karens. How dare anyone be in front of her or not dress according to your standards? You’re nuts!
70. So Angry My Head Is Swimming
When I was 30 I bought my very first house. It's a beautiful four bedroom, two bath with a fenced-in backyard and an inground pool. I love my home. I work crazy hours at a factory 12 hours a day 5 to 7 days a week. I saved up everything I could for just over seven years so I could have my forever home. The entire neighborhood is extremely friendly, and everyone looks out for one another. After about a year, I got to know just about everyone within a couple blocks from my place.
It was around this time when my neighbor came over and chatted with me for a good hour or so when she had asked if it would be possible for her kids to come over and use the pool once in a while. And to be honest, I was completely fine with this. I was just happy that she had asked and was so polite about it. I told them they're free to use it when I'm at work because of my 12-hour days.
Though every two weeks, I switch from days to nights. I told her that it’s okay as long as they don’t use it on days that I have to do nights because I'll be sleeping during the day. And as long as she asks and cleans up after they're done then I have no problem with it. This worked out very well for about a month, month-and-a-half.
Then, a couple of the other families had started asking if their kids could use it. I was a little hesitant letting too many in my backyard at once. So we ended up all getting together to discuss. There were a total of nine families with 12 children. We didn't have a public pool near us, so I had told them I really don't mind if anyone uses the pool, but I had a few rules that had to be followed.
If they weren't followed for any reason, I would put a stop to them using the pool. My rules are as follows. They could not come inside the house. All kids had to be supervised by an adult. No one could come in alone. They had to inform me either the night before or earlier in the morning of when they wanted to use the pool so I knew who was coming and I knew who was going to be there to supervise.
They could not bring anyone else over. They had to clean up after themselves. Every family agreed to these rules, and they all thought that they were completely fair. For the first month things were going very smoothly. After that, it started getting too cold, and I told everyone that I will be closing the pool at the end of the week. To my surprise, when the end of the week arrived, many of the families had come over and had actually helped me take care of the backyard.
We prepared the pool for winter, and we did a bit of cleaning in the backyard. Afterward, we ended up having a really nice barbecue. It is now 17 years later. I’ve continued to allow them to bring over their kids to use the pool. Every year, these families come over and help me open up the pool and put it away for the winter and we have a big barbecue. It's been wonderful. But, there have been a couple problems along the way.
One of the big ones that sticks out happened after six years of living here. I was getting ready to leave for vacation. Wasn't anything big or fancy. I was just going away for four days to spend time with my family. So I informed everyone that for the next four days the pool will be closed because I will be leaving. So the day I’m supposed to leave, I'm at the airport, but my plane was delayed.
We all know that feeling. It was starting to get late, and after waiting there most of the day, I’m told the flight won’t be leaving until tomorrow. Naturally, I was rather irritated after sitting there all day waiting, so I went back to my house. I was quite tired. I just wanted to go lay down and go to sleep to be ready for the next day. I got into my door and I'm getting ready to go up the stairs, when I heard this weird noise and splashing.
Mind you, this is after 11 at night. I go to my back door, open it up, and turn on the porch light only to find a couple in my pool doing it...and you will never believe what they did. They actually got angry with me because I was disturbing them! I. flipped. I demanded to know what the heck they were doing and how did they get in through the locked gate?
This is a couple that I had never met. I had no idea who these people were. The woman had the audacity to say, “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be gone for four days”! I was dumbfounded...I didn't know who they were but they knew I wasn't going to be here for four days? I turned around and I walked into my house. I didn't even bother arguing with them.
I picked up the phone and I called the authorities. I told him there was a couple I don't know that broke into my backyard and are in my pool doing it, and that they somehow knew I was going to be gone for the next four days. Within 15 minutes, two cruisers showed up at my house. They went out to the back to find that the couple were still at it.
I mean can you believe it?! Most people would have gotten embarrassed being caught in someone else's pool, and would have taken off, but no!! not these two, they actually went back to doing it after getting angry with me ‘cause I came back early. The couple get angry and both start saying "Seriously? you called 9-1-1 on us”? Like I had disturbed them and it was their inconvenience.
The officers took them aside and got them dressed. It turns out that they are friends with one of the families that I allowed to come over to use the pool. And they had heard that I would be gone for the next four days. They figured since I was fine with letting other people use my pool, that I wouldn’t mind if they did. They had hopped over my locked fence—but that’s not the most disturbing part.
They had the nerve to tell the officers that I should be detained for being a perv watching them. Needless to say, I pressed charges and the two of them spent the rest of the night in custody. I also went about making sure they could no longer come on my property. That was one of two of the biggest problems I had. The second one happened this summer. 17 years later.
I had told everyone that the pool would be closed because my family was coming to spend the week with me. Everyone was completely understanding. Both of my immediate neighbors knew that I was going to be leaving on Sunday to go pick up my family, and that was the day that the pool was officially closed. I went to the airport and I picked up my family. I was so happy to see them.
We get all their luggage, and we're driving home. As I'm pulling into my street I notice cop cars and I’m thinking oh no, what happened? I hope everyone's all right. As I'm pulling up to my house I see all three cars are at my house. Now I'm starting to panic, thinking oh my God, what's happened? I pull in and I hear screaming from a couple different people and an officer comes up to me.
I asked them: “What's going on?? This is my home, what happened”? The officer asked me for my name and said well we got a call from your neighbor saying someone had broken in. He tells us that the ambulance is on their way. My parents, my siblings, and their two kids are all worried, and asking a bunch of questions, when we see this woman come out of my backyard in a bikini with blood dripping down her arm.
She has four kids and one of them has blood on their foot. She looks at me and says "You!!! this is your house, this is all your fault”. I'm completely dumbstruck. So many questions went through my mind. Who is this woman?? Who are these children? What were they doing in my backyard? How did they get hurt?? Two officers take her to the side with her kids and one cop comes to speak with me.
He told me this woman had jumped over the fence with her kids, so that they could go swimming in my pool. Apparently, she had heard that anyone could use my pool at any given time. Turns out she had just moved into the neighborhood a couple months ago and she is about two blocks away from me. After swimming for about 15-20 minutes, her youngest needed to use the bathroom.
So she tried to get into my back door but it was locked. Apparently, her kid needed to go and couldn't wait till they got home, so she decided to break the window on my door to unlock it, cutting her arm in the process. When she got in, she went looking for a cloth for her bloody arm. Her son then started running through my house and bumped into a glass vase, knocking it over and shattering it.
He stepped on the broken glass and that's how he cut his foot. My neighbors had heard the commotion and went into the backyard to see this woman breaking into my house, so they called the authorities. This woman was screaming at the top of her lungs saying she's going to sue me because she hurt herself in my house, and why would I keep my door locked when I'm fine with people using the pool?
She screams how dare I have glass that would hurt any kid in my house? I went inside and I saw the damage. Sure enough, there was glass shattered all over my living room floor. There was blood and water all over my house since they had run all over trying to find the bathroom. There was blood all over my kitchen and on all of my counters from her frantically opening up every drawer to try and find a cloth to take care of her arm and her son's foot.
Two officers had come in and I was just sitting there. I didn't know what to do. I could not believe that this had happened. They asked a bunch of questions and after talking with them they realized that I did not know this woman. She didn’t have permission to come into my locked backyard or to break into my locked house. Of course, I pressed charges, and I had demanded that she pay for all the damages.
It took a while and we had to go to small claims court. She fought it with everything she could. She would run around telling anyone and everyone how horrible I was and how dangerous it was at my house. However, no one in the neighborhood would listen to her. Everyone knows my five rules, and that as long as those are followed, there are no problems.
In the end, it took about two months and she had to pay for all the damages she had caused. She wound up moving within three months because no one wanted to talk to her after this. The group of people who I allowed to come over, which is pretty much everyone within a couple of blocks of me, were all worried that I would close the pool from now on because of this incident.
I told them I'm not going to punish them because of what one woman had done. I did, however, tell everyone that I was going to put up cameras for my own safety so that I don't have to worry when I leave the house, and everybody was fine with this. The cameras go up in three days and I will not be leaving my home until they’re installed.
Needless to say, the first two days were ruined for my family gathering, but the rest of the visit was wonderful. My family helped clean the mess this inconsiderate woman had left.
71. Bad Grandpa
When I was 18, I was living on my own and dealing with horrible depression and anxiety. At the time I was working and trying to finish high school, and things were pretty stressful. But despite all that, I decided I was ready to try and rebuild a relationship with my father, who I hadn’t spoken to in four years. I thought maybe some of the issues we had before were that I was immature, and the separation of my parents was still fresh.
Things were going okay for a few months. We did Thanksgiving together and it went well. Then it all blew up in my face. After finally seeing a doctor for my issues, I told him that I needed his help paying for medication for my problems. It was $50/month and because I was still on his health insurance he would get 90% back. I just didn’t have the money at the time, and I was struggling to pay my own bills.
He said he couldn’t afford it. Then he said if I convinced my mother to stop getting alimony, he could afford to pay it. I said I couldn’t do that, and decided I would just have to suffer or figure out a way to pay for it myself. Cue my stepsister coming in. What happened next broke my heart. She said to my dad that she needed money for a new tattoo.
He gave her $300 on the spot. I walked out of the apartment and haven’t talked to him willingly since. My son and one of my stepsibling’s kids ended up in the same school 15 years after the tattoo incident. The last time we spoke was to tell him if he tried to talk to my son ever, I would call the authorities. He had walked up to my kid and introduced himself as his grandfather.
My son didn’t even know the man existed! That was a messed-up thing to do to a six-year-old.
72. The Bad Dad Club
I am a member of the Bad Dad Club. My dad cheated on my mom and she found out on the day before their wedding. He vowed to never do it again. Years later, multiple women contacted her in various ways to show that they were his mistress…a few who were pregnant. At some point, he packed up his luggage and moved out to live with his mistresses while my mom raised a child by herself during post-partum recovery.
To this day, he wants to be a part of my life and live normally. He still doesn’t understand why it’s unforgivable.
73. The Lights Are On, But No One’s Home
I bought my first flat when I was in my twenties. I rented out a room to a guy from Poland. I was seeing someone for a while, let's call her Gia. Gia lived with two other girls one of whom I’ll call Karen. Gia and I broke up and that whole friend group ditched me. My career went pretty well, and I bought a house in the suburbs. I decided to let my roommate stay in the flat on the same rent, with the proviso that he not sublet.
I get the mortgage covered and a tenant who is better at maintaining the place than I am, he gets a two-bed flat for half price. A few years on, my old roommate and his girlfriend are moving home to Poland. His girlfriend has already gone back, but when I'm over sorting some stuff with him, I see a huge pile of moving boxes etc., in the spare room
I ask: "Oh, is that your girlfriend’s stuff? Are you going to be able to fit all that in the car”? "Uh, no, that's Karen's stuff. She asked if she could leave it here while we were still here”. As it turns out, Karen was still friends with his girlfriend. She found out they were leaving, and that their rent was a pretty good deal.
She told the girlfriend that she had squared it all with me, and that she was going to take it all over. What followed was panic and confusion. I have not spoken to this person in years. She thinks that she is going to move into my flat, and doesn't even ask? How the heck does she even intend to pay rent, given she has made zero attempts to contact me. And why would I not go for market rate??
I'm honestly baffled, and somewhat morbidly fascinated to find out how she thinks this is going to work. I don't really want to get into some kind of ridiculous squatters' rights squabble with them, so I contacted my solicitor (think a non-trial lawyer). She recommends I get the locks changed, install a security camera, and to send the inevitable roof hitting her way when Karen turns up and tries to get in.
I actually think she's quite excited by the drama. I explain all this to the roommate. He agrees to move out two weeks early, and even helps me fit the doorbell camera. He really was the best. Today at lunchtime, Karen turned up and tried to get in the flat, and she was not alone. My ex Gia was with her, and they had a key.
I feel stupid for not remembering that Gia probably had one from when we were together. I didn't think she'd keep it after she ditched me, but probably should have changed locks back then. Oops. Sorry tenants, my ex had a key to your flat the whole time. Camera didn't get the preamble but they came up to the door and tried a key.
"It's not working”. Some fumbling. "He's changed the lock”. Some more descriptive language, presumably about me and my parentage that I can't wait to have a solicitor read back to them. They continue to take turns trying the key. I connect at this point but don't say anything. They try the doorbell but it doesn't make any noise because I'm connected.
I think it's lit up but I guess they don't realize that means I'm watching. I thought Ring cameras had a siren to give them a fright, but I couldn't find it. They bang on the door and window a bit before walking off. I stayed listening through the camera but didn't hear anything. Still eerily quiet on phone. Video sent to solicitor anyway. Then, I get two calls from unknown numbers.
After a whole bunch of phone calls from random numbers, I finally got one from Gia’s father. He was always a gentleman who I got on with, so I sent him a polite message saying if this was about the flat, please direct this to my solicitor and gave him the details. He said OK. I did some snooping on social media (I deleted my Facebook years ago). It seems that Gia and Karen's other housemate is getting married soon.
They were all living rent-free in the bride's nan's old house, so I'm guessing impending nuptials are the reason Gia and Karen are looking for somewhere new and cheap to live. Not really my problem though. Then, it took a turn from the entitled to just plain dumb. Karen, Gia and Gia’s dad met with solicitor, where they unveiled their secret weapon.
They had a copy of my lease with the Polish roommate. I was right, in that their rent-free ride was over, and they had no money saved. Gia had been used to me as a cash machine for years, I guess, so thought I would just roll over? So these brainiacs’ plan was that they would take over the existing lease agreement from the roommate and his girlfriend without my involvement.
They had a key, they had my payment details from the tenancy agreement. Luckily, the account’s sole purpose was for rent, so I can change that number easily. They thought they could just write their names on the form as well and it would be legally binding. Never mind the fact that there is no subletting, the agreement was with someone else, and the agreement was terminated by the old roommate.
The solicitor says they only tried to argue their point for a minute before giving up. Meeting at her office gave her real homefield psychological advantage I think. That and, you know, every freaking law in the land. She was laughing on the phone about it. Honestly, these people are nearly 40. How they have no idea how a lease works is beyond me.
Long stupid story short, Gia’s dad has agreed to pay a moving company to collect the boxes and bring them to his house. I need to be there for that, but I will slam the door at the first sign of anyone other than a mover. I'm out about 350 quid in solicitors fees. I can accept that. I mean I'd preferred not to have that happen, but who knows what would have happened if they got in or got their day in court.
At least I'll always have a video of my ex failing to pull a fast one on me, and the record of her being called to my solicitor’s office like they've been called to the office by the head teacher.
74. If A Tree Falls In The Suburbs…
I have been living away from home ever since graduating from college. My parents both retired recently and last summer they decided to use some of the money they'd saved up to finally build their dream retirement home in New Orleans, where they've been living for the past ten years. I come from a very tight-knit family so I still talk to my parents every week, and they were so excited when they said they'd already picked out the location where they wanted the house built.
It was an empty lot in a nice neighborhood where a house had been demolished not long before due to age, and the previous owner, who was pretty wealthy and owned numerous properties around the city, decided that the lot was worth more without the house on it. Anyway, my parents snapped it up as soon as it came on the market, but not long after construction began, they realized that they were building their dream house right next door to the lair of a wild Karen.
The trouble started when my parents had to cut down a large oak tree that sat in the front of the lot. It was a real beauty, too, one of those big southern live oaks, and although they didn't want to, they knew they had to remove it because it was in the way. No one likes to cut down a big beautiful tree, and believe me, if there was a way to avoid doing it without impeding the construction, my parents would have taken it.
So they called a tree removal service, and the tree was soon gone. Well, a few days after the tree had been cut down, my dad was on the property talking to some of the construction guys and making sure everything was going smoothly. He was going back to his car when he saw a woman in her late 50s walk out of the house next door and head to her mailbox.
My dad—let's call him John—is a pretty chill and laid-back guy who likes to be on good terms with everyone, so he walked over and introduced himself. "Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "My name's John and my wife and I are going to be your neighbors once our house is finished. I just wanted to come over and say hi and introduce myself. It's nice to meet you. What's your name”?
Karen glanced at the extended hand, then looked up at my dad and glared at him. "My name is none of your business," she snapped. "I'm not going to shake your hand because of Covid, and even if there was no Covid, I still wouldn't shake your hand because you people ruined my life when you cut down my tree! I still can't believe how selfish you are. You should both be ashamed of yourselves”!
My dad was taken aback by this and pointed out that Karen already had a nice big oak tree in her backyard, but Karen ignored him and stalked back inside her house. She never explained why she thought she was the owner of the tree that had been cut down, not once, and whenever my parents asked about it, she refused to answer.
I guess it’s just one of those things we’ll never know, like what really happened to the lost Roanoke colony or the fate of D.B. Cooper. My parents met some of their other neighbors later that day, including a nice elderly couple who lived in the other house next door to Karen's, and when my dad told them what happened, the neighbors said Karen was like that to everyone and no one in the neighborhood liked her.
They also said that Karen had been nasty to them for a long time and they were in the process of selling their house because they couldn't stand living next door to her anymore. Karen soon began living up to her reputation. For months, whenever my parents would visit the house to see how the construction was coming along, she'd find something to complain or confront them about.
One time she said the construction workers were being too loud and threatened to call the authorities, even though it was the middle of the day. Another time she said that the construction company was using illegal immigrants as cheap labor and threatened to call ICE and have the whole project shut down. My dad mentioned this to the owner of the company, and the owner sent Karen a formal letter threatening a lawsuit if she tried.
I don't know if there were any actual grounds for a lawsuit, but the threat must have worked because ICE never showed up. Oh, and then there was the time she tried to have my parents' car towed for parking when they parked by the curb of their still-unfinished house. The first my parents knew about this was when the tow truck showed up, but the driver took one look at where my parents' car was parked and told Karen he'd send her a bill for wasting his time if she called him again.
I could go on. Karen did everything she could think of try and interfere. She was absolutely relentless in her crusade to avenge a tree she never even owned. Happily, the house was completed despite her best efforts and my parents finally moved in not long after the holidays. My mom told me later that she caught Karen watching them bitterly from her window as they were taking some of their boxes inside. She was concerned that Karen might keep going and try something else, but I guess Karen was too busy wallowing in self-pity over her failure or something because things were actually quiet for a while.
But a few weeks ago, things changed. New Orleans has had some really bad weather lately due to the winter storms that are battering much of the southern US right now, and one night, one of those storms was so powerful that it knocked over the tree in Karen's backyard. It missed falling onto her house, but it didn't miss falling onto her shiny new Jaguar and crushing it like a can.
According to my folks, Karen didn't discover what happened until the following morning. When she came outside and saw the pile of scrap metal that used to be her car, she threw back her head and let out a primal scream like something out of The Exorcist. She had to pay a tree removal service to get rid of the tree, and then she had to pay for a tow truck to get rid of the car too, and then she had to get a rental car too.
Karen put her property up for sale and moved out not long afterward. Everyone in the neighborhood was glad to see her go, and my parents enjoyed watching her drive off into the sunset from the front porch of their amazing new house.
75. Comically Entitled
This happened back in the 90s when I had my second comic store. One afternoon I was in my store going thru inventory when a woman walked in. This was unusual back then because, well it was. I saw that she did have the precursor to what would become the "Karen Cut," was wearing large rimmed glasses and a skirt that was the style back then.
I figured she might be looking for a gift for her son, so I asked her if I could help. She asked me if I bought boxes of comics. I told her usually not, unless there was something I could use but I would take a look. So we go to her car and bring in a couple of long boxes. (These hold about 300 unbagged/boarded books or 250 boarded) and I went thru them.
They were all bagged and seemed to be in good shape. They were the popular books at that time. X-Men, Hulk, Ghost Rider. I thought I could sell them and offered her $100 for the lot and she accepted. She left and I put the boxes on a table to price them and sort them out. About 20 minutes later a kid (about 12) walks in and looks at the books on the wall and notices the boxes.
He asked if they were for sale and I said yes, but they weren't priced out yet so if there was something he wanted I'd give him the price then and he started looking thru them. After a few seconds, he had a strange look on his face and I asked him if something was wrong. I'll never forget what he said: "These are my books”. I said, "What”? and he repeated it.
I asked him if he could verify it and he said that he had a code written on every board and he could recite them. I then pulled out five books at random and he nailed every code. I asked him to describe his mother and he described the woman that sold me the books. I told him not to worry, he'll get them back. I asked for his phone number and I called it, placed it on speaker, and waited.
After a few rings, she answered and I responded. “Mrs. Karen, your son is here and informed me that the books you sold me did not belong to you. Will you please come down and give me back the $100 and he can have his books back as I do not buy stolen merchandise”. Her response: “MY SON IS IN YOUR STORE”? She screams at him to get out of there now and never to set foot in there again.
She shrieks that if he ever comes in she will have me sent to jail. The kid was in tears. All he muttered was, "You took my books”. She continues her rant. “I DON'T WANT THAT STUFF IN MY HOUSE. GET OUT NOW”! And then she slams the phone down. I let the kid sit down while I processed what just happened. While this was going on another kid and his mother saw him and said hello, and saw he was crying.
They knew him and the new kid’s mother asked what happened and the kid told her. She was, to say the least, disgusted and said she'll take him home and have a few words with his mother. Before he left I asked him what he wanted to do. He said do whatever it takes. I asked, “What if I need to call the authorities”? He said that would be okay. I said I'm going to try one more thing before that.
About 7:30 that night I called the number (this was before caller ID) and got the father and explained what happened that afternoon. Only thing he said was, "She did what”?? I repeated and again he said the same. Then Karen realized who he was talking to and started screaming. The father just said for her to shut up. Then he thanked me and said he would handle it and asked what time I closed.
About 15 minutes later I see the kid and his father with Karen being dragged along and she is shrieking so loud dogs three counties away had bleeding ears. He drags her in and tells her to give me back the $100. She yells that she doesn't want that stuff in her house and she won't do it. She's going to have me detained for selling this stuff to children and how could they let me open in this town.
She hated Superman and baseball cards. She breaks away from the father and attempts to kick out my showcase and it was only because he managed to grab her collar and yank her back that they weren't smashed. She then tried to shove my computer off the counter but I managed to stop her. The father gave me back what I paid plus a little extra for all the trouble and apologized.
Karen said she'll just set them on fire. Father said no. He is bringing them to his business and would keep them safe from her. He also said he would come with the kid in the future. Later, I found out about the aftermath. Karen basically destroyed the relationship and never apologized. After the kid graduated he joined the army, married, and had a kid.
He doesn't see her often but allows contact when the father is there. All over comic books.
76. Mall Misfortune
My mom is Filipino, but raised in California and doesn’t have an accent or anything, while my dad is a white dude. I look like my dad (pale) and I don’t look Asian at all. This happened when I was an infant, but my mom told me the story because my husband and I are going to have kids soon. It was the most deranged thing I've ever heard.
My family was at the mall, with me in the stroller. Obviously, in comes the Karen. My dad went to the restroom real quick and my mom decided to sit down and wait for him. Karen: “Oh how cute, how old is she”?. Mom: “She’s five months old”. The Karen looked at my mom, confused. Karen: “Oh, are you the nanny”? Mom: “nope I’m the…” Karen: “You must be the babysitter”.
Mom is in shock. Mom: “No I’m the mom. I gave birth to her”. Karen: “But she doesn’t look like you at all”. Mom: “Well no, but she does look like her father”. Karen: “Nonsense! The child doesn’t look like you and I don’t see a father around! You probably took this poor child”. Mom is total shock and scared, then this insane woman tried to take me out of the stroller. Mom: “What the heck are you doing, that’s my baby”!
Karen: “I’m going to find this child’s real parents”. My dad comes back out and sees what’s going on and ran to my mom’s side. Dad: “What are you doing, let go of my daughter’s stroller”!. Karen looked at him and then at me, realizing I look like my dad. Karen: “Oh, she does look like her father. Okay, never mind”. She walked away. Yes, my parents reported her for attempted kidnapping, but we never found out what happened to her.
77. The Wannabe Firer Becomes The Fired
I work in a hospital that specializes in elective surgeries and my boss is the best in his field. One day, I got a call I’ll never forget. I answer and this entitled jerk yells: “I need an appointment so I can schedule surgery and I was told by the doctor through email to call to be scheduled next week”. Me, confused: “I'm sorry, I am not too certain what you are referring to. The doctor is not going to be in the office next week and their next availability for consultations are not until May”.
The jerk: “What are you talking about?? They told me in the email to call to schedule it and I am a sitting judge so I need an appointment NEXT WEEK”. I say: “Okay ma'am. Give me one moment while I look into this”. I put her on hold and walk into my supervisor’s office and ask if my boss had sent word about a last minute patient being added on that I was just unaware of.
They say no, but to ask if the patient can forward the email so we can confirm, as boss was in the OR. This is a common practice in the office I work in as there are instances where boss talks to a patient but forgets to inform the staff. If we are overbooked for a day, my supervisor has to open a specific time frame in order to schedule any last minute patients.
Me: “I'm sorry, ma'am but are you able to forward the email to me? It does not seem there is any record of you coming to our office for an earlier appointment. I just need to confirm before I schedule”. For some reason, this statement activates some secret emotional switch in the back of this woman's brain and she immediately becomes more hostile.
Her: “No I will not. I am a sitting judge and you asking me this is extremely rude and unprofessional. I spoke to the doctor through email. Are you actually doubting me right now”? I just said…yeah. They continued: “I can’t believe this. I need to have surgery on X date and you will give it to me”. By this point, I was 1000% over this woman.
I said: “Okay, ma'am. I will ask my boss to send me the email when he is out of the OR. So I unfortunately have to get back to you on your appointment date”. Her: “Thank you. And just as a word of advice, watch your tone the next time you speak to me”. Then she hangs up. A few hours later, my boss comes back into the OR and tells me they have received an email from the judge stating that I was rude and unprofessional to her.
She claimed that I was refusing services to her because I wanted to invade her privacy and she said no. Luckily, I was way ahead of her. The whole time I was on the phone with this patient, my supervisor was in my office listening to the entire call on speaker phone, otherwise no one would have been able to confirm that I was not being unreasonable and rude to this patient.
My boss goes on to explain that they never promised an earlier appointment to her in the first place, but to check with the office to be put on the waitlist for an earlier date. Now knowing that the judge is nothing but a miserable liar that throws tantrums when no one believes her, I asked my boss if it was really worth it keeping her as a patient to which they said no.
While I was happy with this decision because I don't have to deal with her anymore, I felt bad for any other physician that had to deal with this lady in the future. What I didn't know at this point was that my supervisor called patient advocacy—essentially an HR that handles awful patients—and they agreed that her behavior warranted her not to be accepted as a patient BY ANY PHYSICIAN WITHIN THE HOSPITAL.
So now my boss, supervisor, and I have to call her tomorrow to inform the hospital's decision to discharge her. Honestly, karma is not something you should mess with.
78. The Shining, Hospital Edition
When I was 20, I got my tonsils removed. The initial surgery went well but a few hours later, when I woke up from my post anaesthesia nap, I opened my mouth and blood started pouring out. Turns out I had immediate post-op bleeding. I was admitted to the ER and was scheduled to have corrective surgery the next day. But then, tragedy struck.
The doctor for the second surgery got into a freaking car crash on the way to the hospital. My surgery was postponed for three days and I was moved out of the ER and into a regular hospital bed. I was in pain, starving, and every time I opened my mouth blood would pour out. The person in the bed next to me had a host of entitled visitors (I think they were family) who were constantly talking at max volume.
I decided to try and politely ask for them to keep the volume down a little, and boy that was a mistake. Me: “Hey guys, would you mind keeping the volume down a little? I’m trying to sleep but it feels like you’re talking very loudly and the curtain doesn’t block out the sound that well so I can hear everything”. The patient says: “Ignore her. I haven’t seen any doctors or specialists come and check on her since she’s been here, only nurses. Obviously, she’s not that sick, she’s just being overdramatic and is annoyed I actually have visitors”.
Me: “Actually the reason is…” One of their visitors then noticed my self-harm scars: “Okay, I think I get it. They didn’t have any space at the funny farm for you so they stuck you with actual sick people”? They all start laughing at this obviously hilarious observation. At this point, I knew I needed to gargle some more hydrogen peroxide before the bloodgates in my mouth release and cause a tsunami of blood.
I said: “You’re absolutely right! My bad I was just…wait…sorry…I just…” At this point, mid-sentence, I simply opened my mouth and blood came pouring out of my mouth and onto my hospital gown, right in front of them. They freaked out. It was horror movie level. I was in a lot of pain and I was internally screaming, but my pettiness got the best of me and I gave them a blood-covered toothy smile.
I then went back to my bed to call a nurse for painkillers and gargle some more hydrogen peroxide.
79. Karen Finally Gets The Manager
This is a tale from one of my jobs in customer service. I work for a moving company that also offers storage services. I specifically work in the claims and disputes department, far enough up the food chain that if you are talking to me, you are most likely going to have a bad day by the time we are through. Roughly 90% of the customers I deal with have their cases sent to me because they are terrorizing the people that work on my team.
So July of 2020, in the middle of our busiest summer ever, this case comes across my desk. So I call this Karen about her pricing dispute that got forwarded to me two and half weeks prior, I see on her account that she has been calling our regular customer service line daily demanding to speak to the CEO or CFO of the company. Why they think they will actually get them is still a mystery to me.
I also see from the agent's notes that she is claiming there is a difference in the price from what the document we sent to her was and what was being billed, odd but not impossible errors happen, but when the agent couldn't resolve her issue immediately the exact way she wanted, out came the swear words and demands to speak to their manager’s manager.
Wonderful. As if my day wasn't hard enough already. She picks up her phone. Karen: “Hello”? Me: “Hi this is (me) with X Moving company calling you on a monitored and recorded line about (insert reference number here) for your billing”. Karen: “It is about time you called me, you guys are so incompetent, literally all you do is take people’s money, my god I was about to file a complaint with the BBB”.
Me: “My apologies, unfortunately due to current events there has been an unprecedented number of people moving which has caused delays in every department, which is why I am calling you today, I see that you have spoken to (insert other agents name here) and you weren't able to reach a resolution so this was escalated to me. I'm reaching out so we can try to get a resolution on this matter as soon as possible”.
Karen: “Oh good finally someone with sense in your company, so you're calling to credit me back for everything I've spent with your company”? Me stopping, hoping I hear her wrong: “Excuse me”? Karen: “That's what my dispute was for, everything I have spent with your company for the last three years, I was originally going to do it with my bank but my banker explained that a claim that large would mean having to close out then reopen my entire account and it would be so much easier of I handled it through your company since you were the one billing me”.
I am floored by this. This woman stored with us for almost three years before having all of her stuff shipped almost four thousand miles away from her starting area. We are talking billing in the range of about 15 thousand dollars. We are definitely not one of the cheap services in this field, and people usually pay the extra because of the reputation we have.
Me: “Ummm, no, I am calling you about the specifics of your dispute, I see you didn't give them to the customer service agent when you spoke to them or the other claims agent, what part of this isn’t correct, because from what we can see all of your billing matches up with the order documents we have been sending to your online account as you requested”.
You know when people talk about someone going from 0 to 60 at the drop of a pin? Yeah, she got on her high horse and did 0 to 120 in half that time. I legitimately had to take my headset off, holding it at arm’s length and I could still hear her screaming every obscenity in the book at me. After several minutes of this, she seemed to run out of breath (or hot air) and I was able to finally get a word in edge-wise.
Me: “Ma'am it's my job to find the discrepancy in the billing and the documents provided to you, and IF there is a discrepancy in your favor, then credit you back for it, now which parts of this are you showing a different amount charged vs what shows on your bill”? This starts her in on another rant, all be it a much shorter one where she throws a mess of numbers at me.
This is rather confusing to me, as I am not seeing any of the numbers she is giving me on her account. Then it suddenly hits me: Me: “Is the difference you are seeing on the long distance move this dollar amount”? Karen: “That's what I've been saying, god you people need to learn how to listen”. Me: “And is the difference you are seeing on these charges this”? Karen: “Yes”.
Me: “Oh I see what the problem is, the document you have been referring to must be a quote, because the difference in all of your billing is the taxes. You see quotes don't include the taxes, if you look at the top of the quote it says that in bold”.
Karen: “So credit me back the taxes, you never said how much they were or that you were taking them”. Me: “I apologize but I can’t do that, when you booked your order, the official document with all taxes, fees, and discounts was presented to you at that time, you have been charged the correct amount”. Karen: “Then get me someone who can because I want my money back, you guys are nothing but a bunch of (insert slur) and thieves”.
Me: “Ma'am there is no need for the kind of language you have been using on this call, now I regret to inform you of this but nobody in this company can issue you a refund for this matter as it is not a company policy or charge but rather charges that originate at the state and federal levels. I hate paying taxes as much as the next person does, but if you have an issue with those charges, that is something I recommend you reach out to your state senator and discuss it with them”.
Karen: “That is unacceptable and unprofessional, I demand to speak to your manager”. Me: “Yeah, that's not going to happen, see I am the highest-level person in this company that talks to customers period full stop. There are exactly four people in this company that are above me, none of them talk to customers ever and I have final say on any account or dispute in the company that gets escalated. Basically, I am the manager you have been asking for, and I am telling you no, we will not be issuing a refund on your account”.
Karen: “This is unacceptable. I am going to write bad reviews for your company everywhere and report you to the BBB”! Me: “Go ahead, but so you know, any dispute filed to the BBB or social media case opened about this will come across my desk in about two weeks as I am the one closing this dispute and we both know exactly how far that will get you, in addition since all of our calls are recorded, any bad-mouthing you do on social media can and will be removed as there is proof we have been more than accommodating with you in your frivolous demands”.
Karen: “Fine, I'm just going to dispute everything with my bank, they will stand with me, they have been my bank for years”. Me: “Best of luck with that and have a nice day”. Karen hangs up and I get busy notating everything about our exchange on her account as well as her dispute, close her dispute as denied, then send emails to our accounting department and social media departments flagging her name and account, listing the details of what happened.
Now this wouldn't be as satisfying without the follow-up I got later. After my lovely conversation with this Karen in July, in early September I got an email from our accounting department with a note saying she had tried disputing it with her bank and when they had reached out to us about the matter we provided them with all of the documentation for her billing, including the quote she had based everything off of that had the disclaimer about taxes in bold on top.
Needless to say, she didn't win that, so all of her accounts had to be closed then reopened for no reason. But wait, it gets better. Later that month, I get an email from my social media team, she had tried filing a complaint with the BBB which was dismissed when we sent them a transcript of her call with me. Then she tried bashing the company on social media.
This was also very short-lived as the social media team responded to her saying something along the lines that taxes weren't something to make numerous slurs about an individual for. They had sent me a screenshot of the responses other people were making on her post that were just tearing her a new one before she eventually deleted it.
I haven't heard anything else about this Karen but with her antics across multiple departments, she did get blacklisted by our company so I am happy in the thought that I will never have to deal with this particular woman ever again.
80. El Brusco Despertar
I was traveling with my kiddo from the states to my home country, which takes around eight hours with connections, so I booked first-class seats for both of us. However, in this airline, ours was the last group to be called to board. When we boarded it turned out a Karen around 40-ish and her kid were in our seats, I politely told her so, but she ignored me.
As we were the last to board, I had to call the flight attendant and let her know that, because we were soon to take off. She came and Karen just repeated in Spanish "lo siento no entiendo", over and over again (i.e. "I'm sorry I don't understand" in English) and the flight attendant felt frustrated as she explained the situation to her in Spanish.
It was obvious Spanish wasn't her first language and yet Karen pretended she didn't understand. But here comes the funny part, I am a Spanish speaker, so I grinned and told her in Spanish that she was in our seats and had to move to their seats. She then got red-faced and told me how she is a single mother and how I should respect my elders (all in Spanish of course).
She told me how I should go with my brother (actually my son) to the regular seats because she deserved to have the first-class ones. I told her she was not my elder, I'm 27 and she was 40-ish, and I don't care about her being a single mother, she could pay for them as I did being a single parent as well. Anyway, Karen had the pleasure to have me as her translator telling her to go back to their seats or they would be escorted out of the plane.
In the end, she went back to their seats and told me in English how my kind have ruined the states. I just laughed at them and told her to enjoy their seats.
81. Something’s Fishy
I'm allergic to fish/seafood. It's not the anaphylactic type of allergy, thank goodness, so I'm not going to die if I eat some, but I do throw up, have a stomach ache, and a massive headache for a few hours. Enough fish/seafood and I break out in small red hives over my arms. My mother didn't believe it and as a child, I couldn't stand up to her properly.
She'd force me to eat stuff with seafood or fish in it to “prove” I wasn't allergic, then ignore me as I was sick. One day, she held a dinner party. I was dressed up beautifully and trotted out to parade before the guests. At the time, I was about nine, precocious for my age, and absolutely fed up with my mother making me sick from food.
When she held out a fish cutlet (fish cooked with vegetables, rolled into a ball, covered in batter and fried) for me to eat, I saw my chance. Me, loudly: "I can't eat that, I'm allergic to fish." Mother: "No, you're not. Eat it." Me: "I am allergic! I'll throw up!" No Asian mother will back down in front of guests for fear of looking like she can't discipline her child.
So my mother grabbed the fish cutlet, shoved it to my mouth, and said in her most firm voice of command, "EAT." So I ate it. Cut to about ten minutes later. I go up to my mother and tug on her sari to get attention. Me: "I don't feel well—" BARF. I vomited on her, on the expensive carpet, and in full view of all the guests. My mother has a reputation for being a kind, generous, charitable, and very religious woman, so in front of all the guests, she couldn't do anything except act sympathetic and send me off to bed to recover.
She never made me eat fish or seafood again.
82. Adults Only
I attended an adult-only wedding for a co-worker a few days ago. The actual ceremony was in a very small church, so it was mostly family and close friends but the reception was for roughly 250 people. The reception was at a very elegant hotel ballroom. Not child-friendly in any way. Crystal stemware, expensive linens on the table, etc.
About 1/2 hour into the reception, a commotion started that made everyone stare. This entitled mother is arguing with the wedding planner loudly. Me being the nosy broad that I am, I inched closer to hear. It turns out this woman brought her four young children to the reception even though the invitations clearly stated Adults Only.
The entitled mother insisted that her kids—the oldest one looked eight and the youngest was under a year old—were super well-behaved so it was fine. Now keep in mind this was around 7:30 pm. The planner was having none of it. She insisted that children were not allowed and she had to leave. In a last ditch effort to get admitted, the mother shouted at the bride.
The bride went over and listened to her for a moment, and then said in a syrupy sweet voice, "Of course you can come in, but your children cannot." Then she turned on her heel and went back to her new husband. The mother flipped a nut, yelling about how she was invited, couldn’t find a babysitter, etc. Three of the groomsmen took her and her kids to the door.
83. What’s Mine Isn’t Yours
This happened about five years ago. My fiancée and I have been together for seven years this month. We were reminiscing about some old stories yesterday when this one came up, and she suggested I share it. She was my girlfriend at the time, and at the time I was fully aware that her mom was a few fries short of a happy meal, but this was the pinnacle of her behavior.
My girlfriend Ellie and I weren't living together at the time, she just stayed over from time to time when she could. I took her home after she had been staying with me a couple of days and was heading to work. But shortly after, just before getting to work, I get a phone call from her and I can tell she is in tears. Apparently, when she got inside her house, her mother immediately blew up on her about being gone for SOOO long.
It was only two days and she TOLD her mom she was going to be gone and kept in contact with her while she was gone. But Ellie just sort of brushed it off and went to her room. The house was pretty much your stereotypical crazy cat lady house. Badly decaying, cats all over the place, going to the bathroom in random places and whatnot.
When Ellie gets to her room, she realizes that while she was gone, the cats peed and pooped over a pile of her clean clothes. But whatever, Ellie decided to just bag them up and she would wash them next time she came to my place. Her mom didn't have a functioning washer at the time. Apparently, that REALLY set her mom off.
Her mom apparently thought Ellie was bagging her clothes because she was planning to go BACK to my place that night to stay another few days. So she stomped into her room, grabbed the bag, ripped it open, and flung the clothes all over the room along with the cat refuse while screaming at Ellie that she's not going anywhere. That's when Ellie ran outside and called me.
She was so upset and didn't know what to do. Her mom had been doing crazy stuff to Ellie since I'd been with her, but up until then I just helped her however I could while not getting involved and not saying a word to her mom. I told her to go ahead and get the things she needs, and I'll take her to my place. She said she would love that.
I told my work I was gonna be late due to an emergency, and turned around to go pick her up. When I pulled back up to the house, Ellie was in the driveway crying. I went and hugged her, told her it was gonna be ok and that she could stay with me as a long as she wanted. So she went back inside to get her things. As I was standing outside waiting, I heard the door open again and went to help Ellie with her things...uh-oh...it's her mom.
She comes stomping out with her hair crazy and frizzled, wearing an old nightgown. She beelines for me and gets right in my face. Her (with an extremely thick high pitched southern accent): My daughter said I need to come out here and ask what you think of me! (I knew that was a blatant lie as Ellie would NEVER instigate this.)
Her: You got something to say?? Huh?? You think I'm trash don't you huh?? That’s what you think, isn't it?? Again, up until now, I'd COMPLETELY kept my mouth shut, and was trying to maintain that. But this woman was up in my face, freaking out, and was tormenting the woman I loved, so I finally looked at her and broke my silence.
Me: Why do you treat her like this? Her: *GASP* WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? THAT’S MY DAUGHTER AND I WORSHIP THE GROUND SHE WALKS ON!!! Me: Oh really? So calling her names is worship? Her: *GASP* I WOULD NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT! Me: (getting rather irate) Lies! I've HEARD you say things. Her: *EXPLOSION* YOU GET OFF MY PROPERTY!!!!!!!!
Ok, I almost never find myself in situations like this, so I'm not used to it. I say that because after she said this, I pretty much saw red. I'm not proud of it, but I just started shouting every curse word in the book I could possibly think of at the top of my lungs while she went back into the house. But thankfully, that only lasted a few seconds and I immediately calmed down.
So finally Ellie comes back out with her stuff. We put it in the car and I assume it’s over...but Ellie turns to me and says, “I'm sorry but we can't leave yet.” Me: Why not?
Ellie: *Sigh* Mom called the authorities. I sort of had a feeling that would happen, no big deal. So we just sat and waited for the officer to arrive. After about 10 minutes or so, a patrol car pulls up.
Right when he does, her mom comes out of the house, and…Oh my god. Yes, she was doing EXACTLY what you think. She INSTANTLY puts on the fragile brittle old lady act. Hunched over, walking slowly, the whole gig. And of course, when the officer asks her what happened, she has to pitch her entire medical chart to the guy. Ellie will tell you this woman has been “terminally” ill for 12 years, ha.
So when she finally gets done trying to milk this poor guy for sympathy, she tells her version of what happened. Her: Sir, he came onto my property and verbally attacked me! He's awful to me sir and I've never even done anything to him! He's turned my daughter against me and is trying to convince her to leave!! At first, he seemed somewhat sympathetic to her...until he turns to Ellie.
Officer: Ma'am, this is your boyfriend? Ellie: Yes sir. Him: Ok, and how old are you? Ellie: Sir...I'm 23. This was my favorite part because the officer looked up from his notepad with a look of "Wait, what?" Obviously, he was thinking Ellie was a minor or something based on how her mother was acting, but quickly realized just what he was dealing with.
Eventually, he turns to me. Officer: Ok sir, please give me your version of what happened. I did so. Funny side note, at one point the officer looks up at me and says, Officer: You look really familiar...do I know you? It actually turned out the officer and I had gone to high school together. Once we recognized each other, we laughed and shook hands very briefly.
This was hilarious because out of the corner of my eye, I see the mom has a big scowl on her face as she sees me getting friendly with him. Anyway, the officer puts his notepad away and turns to me. He says the following with this heavy tone of "I know that you are fully aware of this and I don't believe you are in the wrong at all, but I have to say this as a formality."
Officer: Well, she doesn't want you on the property, so be aware that if you come back here you technically can be charged with trespassing. Do you understand this as I've explained it? Me: Absolutely sir. Mother: But sir, I want to press charges! Officer: He didn't do anything wrong, ma’am. Mother: But he verbally attacked me!
Officer: I understand that, and while that was ill-advised (he slightly turns to me and gives me a small gesture with his hand, and I nod in agreement), it's not something I could detain him for. He agrees he will not come back on your property without your direct permission. Mother: Ugh! Ok fine, whatever! Ellie, come back inside!
Ellie: What? No! Mother: You heard the officer, he is leaving and you're staying here! Officer: Whoa, ma'am, I didn't say that at all. Mother: BUT...BU— Officer: Your daughter is not a child ma'am, she is a full-grown adult, and she has every right to go wherever she wants. Mother: I'm her mother! She lives under my roof! I told her she needs to stay here, so she needs to stay!!
Officer No ma'am, that’s not how it works. If she wants to go stay with her boyfriend, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop her. She now starts the fake crocodile tears and stomps into the house in defeat. Ellie and I thanked the officer, got in the car, and left. We've been living together ever since. The best part of all is that this has a happy ending.
Believe it or not, the entitled mom isn’t really much of an entitled mom anymore. Over the years since that day, she has actually decided to make an effort to try and improve herself. I guess she realized that if she didn't make changes, she would lose her relationship with Ellie. So she started taking advantage of her medical coverage and went to see her psychiatrist and got medicine for the mental illness she actually had, as opposed to the ones she would make up.
Since then...well, she has actually gotten WAY better. She takes her medicine regularly and has a boyfriend who is an EXTREMELY kind man and treats Ellie as though she were his own daughter. We actually get along very well and we see them frequently, and we help each other out whenever we can. We actually look back on the early years when she WAS in fact entitled, and laugh.
So not only is everybody getting along well, we can actually share the cringe stories and happily laugh about them.
84. Grand Theft Grandma
I am currently pregnant with my first child, and both my mom and stepdad have been terrible to me and my partner the entire time. They told us we would be unfit parents because we aren’t married yet, and legitimately screamed at my partner for "knocking up their little girl" even though we planned the pregnancy. They would call him every day and harass him, and even show up to his work.
They try to convince him to leave me so I would have no choice but to move back in with them. It got worse as time went on, and I finally decided to cut contact with them. Having a child can already be a stressful time, and having them around to make it worse was not something I was okay with. My partner and I have gone through a lot with family drama the past couple of years and having this baby has been one of the most exciting things for us.
If my parents can’t be nice to my partner, then they don’t get to see our baby. One day I sent my mom a very detailed email of why she is not allowed to be a part of my life anymore and will not be seeing her grandchild. To make things even better, I also noted that we will be moving across the country shortly after she is born to be closer to other family members.
So not only is she cut off, but we are literally moving far away and never coming back. Her reply chilled me to the bone. She responds by showing up at our house at 11 pm, screaming outside our door about how it is her baby and she deserves to be there for it. I tell her to screw off and eventually, she leaves. Months go by and she will text me randomly asking about technical problems with her Wi-Fi router or something.
Little things like that don't mean much to me, so I sent her the info she needed. My cousin also had a virtual baby shower and sent my invitation to my mom’s house accidentally, so my mom came by to give it to me. Things slowly came to a point that we were fairly amicable with each other, but I still stood my ground about our boundaries and nothing else had changed.
She knew this. Then she sends me a video today that blew my mind. She redecorated her entire guest room to be a nursery. Crib, changing table, $400-worth of newborn clothes, toy chest, stroller, a car seat for her car, and the list goes on. In the video, she is in tears saying "I can't believe my baby is going to be here soon, this is where she will sleep, where I will change her little diapers, these will be her toys."
Is she psychotic!? HER baby?? Sleeping and living at HER house?? What!? So I call her up immediately and I reiterate that we are still moving across the country soon and that she will have no contact with the baby before that. Her response? "Oh okay, we will see about that!" Genuinely confused. What part of "you will have no contact with this baby" does she not understand or thinks will change in the next few weeks when she is born?
Is she planning on taking her from us? I am at a loss for words.
85. The Karen Is Coming From Inside The House
This story is about my mother. Yes, she is a mega Karen and unfortunately, I've had to put up with her most of my life. This happened when I was a teenager, around 15. We went out for dinner at a small local restaurant that did all-you-can-eat buffets. I should mention that my mother has long, thick and curly hair and she never ties it up. This is important for later.
We got our dinner and sat down to eat and all was going well. I was surprised at how well my mum was doing. By this point, she usually should have found something to complain about. And then it happened. She looked down at her plate and said: "Look at this, there’s a hair in my food”! Me: "Mum, that's YOUR hair”. My mom: "AH, NO. That's not MY hair”!
The way she was talking was obviously dramatized for effect and she was beginning to get louder and draw attention from the other diners. She continued to cause a scene and get more irritating, drawing more attention to herself and inadvertently, me. I wanted to sink into my chair from embarrassment. Not long after she started her fake tantrum, the waitress came over to see what the problem was.
She said: "How's it all going here? What seems to be the problem”? My mom said: "There is a hair in my food”! The waitress replied: "Um.... ok”? My mom, getting furious at the lack of care from the waitress, says: "Well then what are you going to do about it? We deserve to have our meals for free. This is horrible customer service”. The waitress, with a smirk across her face, says: "I'm sorry you're not satisfied with our food. Would you like to speak to the chef”?
Mom, looking smug that she thought she won, replies: "Yes. I would”! I was confused at this point, not understanding why the waitress didn't seem to care. It soon became clear why. A few minutes later a man came out from the back of the store and walked right up to our table and my mum's face went ghost white and her jaw dropped.
The chef was bald! Not balding, but so bald that you could see your reflection on his shiny scalp. He said: "Hi there, how are things this evening? What seems to be the problem”? My mom replied: "Well...there's a hair in my food”. The chef, smiling, said: "I'm sorry to hear that ma'am, but unless I've miraculously grown a full head of hair on my walk over to your table, you can see I am very much bald. And as I am the only chef working tonight, that is clearly not my hair. Is that all for now? I need to get back to work”.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked back to the kitchen, but not before I mouthed “sorry” to him as he left. I knew better than to say anything to my mum after this but I had a smile on my face for the rest of the night.
86. Picking The Wrong Side
Two nights ago, I was brutally assaulted in my own house by a friend I had been letting stay with me. I had to run to a neighbor's house at 3 AM to call the authorities. When they came to arrest her, she was in my living room making videos and told the officers she hopes I perish in a fire. Initially, I planned to approach the prosecutor on Monday morning and ask that charges be dropped in lieu of court-ordered mental health treatment.
This woman is very mentally ill and has violently lashed out at others in the past. I speak from experience when I say incarceration helps no one. I had been speaking with a friend of hers regarding this, who was very heavily leaning on me to do just that. His reasoning was that she did not need this on her record because it would ruin her life.
However, a friend sent me a screenshot of a post she had made while I was running to my neighbor's. It was seriously disturbing. She was claiming I was attacking her. She listed a link to Google maps of my address. I am a single mother. My children live here. They were not home at the time of the attack. I wouldn't have run for help and left them here.
I informed her friend that I would not only continue with charges stemming from the attack, but I would be taking the screenshot of that post to the authorities and requesting additional charges be levied against her, if possible. He then Googled my address, took a screenshot and said, "Anyone can Google your address. She doesn't deserve to have a that on her record for the rest of her life”.
I feel like anyone that physically assaults you, tries to stab you, then lists the address where your children sleep does, indeed, deserve it. Who does this guy think he is?
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87. A One-Sided Deal
My family owns a few cabins up in Michigan that we rent out throughout the year. We have one that is our main one, it's on a lake perched on a hill so you can see it from far away. My siblings and I all have kids now and are all in our 30s so someone is usually up there from April through November with maybe a few empty weekends here and there.
Our neighbors on the bottom of the hill suck, they are a couple from out west who ripped down the two old cottages on the land they bought and built a ugly modern looking home that would fit in a large city rather on a lake. The bad thing about building such a large home is the lack of yard space and they love to cry to us about how their kids have no backyard, and if we could sell some of our yard to them it would be great.
Well, we love our yard, it's big enough that we had two weddings there, can have a full family reunion with 100+ people and still have room to play cornhole or other yard games without being in the way. So every time this family has asked to purchase a part of it we say no. We do have an old chicken wire fence between the properties and we have grass, whereas they have just forest floor around their home so it's really easy to see where the two properties stop.
So just last weekend my dad got a call from one of our other neighbors that they saw the bad neighbor up on the hill walking around our cabin with a few other people she did not recognize, so my dad did what every homeowner would do and called the local authorities. He is drinking buddies with a few of them during the warmer months so they were out to go check the place out really quick.
It turns out when they got there the bad neighbor was walking around with her friends trying to set up a kid's outdoor winter park in the snow. The officers asked if she had permission and she lied to their faces saying she was in the process of closing on the land and that she is ripping the cabin down to turn it into a small snow park for the area.
Well, the officers told her that she was trespassing, that they were called here by the owner who they were friends with. I guess bad neighbor got really quiet and started to try and walk away but was ticketed along with her friends for trespassing. I guess they also laid into the ladies that if a kid got hurt while they were out here illegally they would be liable for anything.
Then he said he is recommending my family put up a restraining order if she is caught up there again. This isn't the first time she has been on our property without permission, we have caught her out on our dock and she has picked a few of our veggies from the summer garden, both of which are on the other side of the hill from her. We are going up there once it gets warm enough to install more cameras as right now we only have ones above the doors and garages.
88. Karma Comes For The Evil Twin
Me and my twin brother Sebastian have never ever been close; in fact, he made life terrible growing up. My parents didn't help by playing favorites, getting him better stuff on our birthday, only going to see films he liked at the cinema, and giving him extra money for housework despite us doing the same amount of work.
He would always put me down, belittle me, persecute me with his friends at school, break my stuff and his, then blame me. He was just a pain in general. Growing up the only people I knew to rely on was my older sister Jane, my cousin Kai and best friend Isaac who all knew what an awful person my brother was. Anyway cut to when I was 17 and I had my first girlfriend, someone I loved very much.
We didn't have go all the way cause she wanted to wait til her 18th birthday to lose her virginity. Or so I thought. It turns out that she was having an affair with my brother behind my back for half the time we were together and only got caught when it was revealed she was pregnant. I was crushed, she knew how much I hated my brother and she saw some of the awful things he did to me but she still went and did that.
Cheating is bad enough but to do it with him of all people. I punched him in the face and broke his nose and made him lose a tooth, but according to my parents I'm the one in the wrong and now we have to help this girl who is carrying my brother’s child and have to help support them. My brother then said he had no intention of being a father and told my girlfriend to get an abortion.
She then ran out of town and I never saw her again. I don't know if she had the baby. All I know was that she was gone and my folks were still praising my brother as the golden child. I was still the black sheep and failure as usual. Another year goes by, and me and my brother still despise each other, but I started dating again. It was a long while but I found someone. In fact, I found a boy I liked.
I’m bi and this new guy Daniel I had met at college caught my eye, he was deaf and I studied sign language out of boredom so we got talking and things just seemed to click. We date, fall in love, and I bring him to my friend Isaacs’s party to introduce him to friends and all feels great. At this point, the only one who knew I was bi was Isaac, but one day walking into a cinema holding my boyfriend’s hand I bump into my evil twin.
He points, laughs, and says some awful remarks. I tell him to shut up and I go see a movie with my arm around my boyfriend. I dropped my boyfriend off at his place, then went home. I wasn't prepared for how bad it was. I saw both my parents on the sofa, my mother crying about how on earth could she have given birth to someone so disgusting.
My father gets up to yell at me, spouting disturbing remarks and slurs. At this point I see my brother up the staircase with a smug grin on his face, he then comes down and says he's uncomfortable with sharing a room with me and my folks kick me out there and then. With what little clothes and money I had, I went to Isaacs’s house and his family took me in.
That’s where I stayed for six months actually experiencing familial love and affection. I consider Isaacs’s mother and stepdad my own parents now. Eventually, me, Daniel, and Isaac all get a two-bedroom flat together and all is good for the time being. So cut to December last year, me and my boyfriend (now husband) Daniel are married.
I have a brilliant job in design, have my own house by the sea and life has never been better. However, I got a call from my sister that threw everything into chaos. My brother was in the hospital. I hadn't thought about him that much over the nine-year period since I was kicked out, but being reminded of his existence brought up a lot of painful memories for me.
I was told by my sister that Sebastian wanted to see me and that it was urgent, so I went to the hospital he was in and met my sister outside the front entrance, I ask her what this is all about but she doesn't tell me and that I need to ask my twin. So I arrive at where my brother is at, and I'm shocked to find my parents at his side. Even more shocking, my folks actually look happy to see me!
It's as if what they did to me hadn't happened and Sebastian also looked really pleased to see me. It's safe to say something was off. Eventually, I ask what's going on and why was I even here, to which my brother tells the family to leave us two alone. He looks so weak as before he used to intimidate me so much. He told me that he was dying from kidney failure. He said it had been for the past few years, but now he didn't have long left. I knew immediately where this was going.
He then said he always regretted that we never got along at which point I told him "no" he looked confused and asked what I was on about so I simply told him I wasn't going to donate my kidney to save him. He looked as if I had just slobbered in his food. He then went on about how bad the situation was and that he really was sorry for all the things we did to each other growing up.
Like excuse me? We did to each other? I told him that I just wanted a brother who cared and loved me, who wouldn't try and break me every day for 18 years. He then called in our mum and dad and told them that I wasn't going to give up my kidney, they then started to spout off that I owed them for my existence and that I have a duty to look after family.
I asked them where that duty was when they kicked me out of the house or where that duty was every time my brother gave me a black eye, or their duty was to look after their grandchild when Sebastian decided he didn't want to be a father. I said for all the things he's done, from outing me, to having an affair with my girlfriend, to abandoning his child, that this was the universe’s (and my) way of finally giving back what he dished out. Finally saying it felt so good.
I then turned around and walked out of the room. I never saw Sebastian again. Not sure why they’d want a bi man’s kidney anyway. I walked past my sister who gave me a look that said "I understand”. After leaving the hospital I felt as if a great weight had been taken off my shoulders, I went home and never looked back, pleased with my decision.
Now last week I get a call from my sister calling to inform me that Sebastian had passed. She asked if I was okay and I said I was, that I didn't really feel anything in all honesty. She said she understood to a degree as Sebastian hadn't been all that kind to her over the years either. I had my husband and Isaac there to support me.
The next day I was getting calls and texts from family members I hadn't spoken to in years. They all told me that I'm going to burn for being a bad son, being a bad brother, for being bi, and that me and my husband don't deserve children. My hubby and I have been looking into adoption and surrogacy. This makes me second-guess my choice of not giving my brother my kidney. Even after he’s gone, he’s making things harder for me.
I did wonder if I was a bad person and if I made the wrong decision but I knew that if I was in that position I would have been left for dead. Screw him. His renal failure was from living an unhealthy lifestyle—he drinks and had a substance issue. It's unlikely I'll ever see my parents again and I'll make sure my children will never meet them.
My revenge to them will be being a better parent than they ever were.
89. None Of Her Business
My mom was in and out of the hospital when I was around 10-13 years old because of bipolar disorder. By the time this all went down, when I was 15, my mom was doing better. She lived at home, and she was even working. So, In my final year of secondary school, one of my teachers began pulling me out of class in the middle of lessons and at first, she just wanted to chat about my grades, which were average. Then these "chats" took a dark turn.
She started asking more and more intrusive questions about my mom and her illness and began to compare my mother's illness to her mother, who apparently had suffered from the same thing and began telling me sob stories about her childhood. She also began asking me uncomfortable questions about my home life. I didn't say much, just sat there feeling very confused about it all.
This happened over the course of three months and eventually, I got really sick of her pulling me out of the classroom in the middle of lessons and I snapped. I told her to stop pulling me out of classes and to leave me alone. I turn to leave and go back to class. She grabs me by the arm and tells me that if I continue to withhold information, she would have to call the CPS.
I told her to call them, they wouldn't find anything and she'd be wasting their time. A few days later, I get called out of the classroom, not by her but by my principal, who takes me to her office where a CPS worker, my mom and my dad is waiting, I realized I already knew the woman. She had been at our house sometimes while mom was ill.
The CPS worker, my parents, and I talked and she came to the conclusion that everything was fine but I broke down in tears because the whole situation had been really stressful. My parents were furious. They demanded to know why this teacher thought it was okay to harass me about something that was none of her business. We never got a proper answer and the teacher refused to say anything. She stared daggers at me though.
The CPS lady was angry about having her time taken by this stupid situation and demanded some type of action from the principal. The teacher was not allowed to be in a room alone with me anymore and under no circumstance to take me out of the classroom alone. Eventually, she was moved to another class and later let go for harassment and assault of another student.
90. The Meat Of The Matter
So I am in my second year of university, and I currently am rooming with three other people. Dan, Max, and Olivia. We all share a living area, kitchen and of course a fridge, we each have a shelf space for our stuff and kinda share the rest of the fridge. Now in our group, I’m the only one that doesn’t have any dietary requirements, Dan is gluten intolerant, Olivia is vegan (by choice) and Max is mostly vegetarian because of a mixture of allergies and medical conditions. That’s where the problems began.
Me and Max are also in the same major and are close. When we all first moved in Max noticed that some of his food kept getting moved to a different shelf, Olivia’s shelf. Max has really bad social anxiety and doesn’t do well with conflict so he asked me to ask Olivia about it. When I did she said she thought we had gotten the food for her because she’s vegan.
I explained that Max is vegetarian. I just said he’s vegetarian because I didn’t think it was my place to tell people about his medical conditions. She apologized and moved his food back and seemed happy to have someone else that “understood”. For the next few weeks, everything was fine, she did get a bit pushy every now and then with Max, saying that meat is the hard part and how easy it would be to stop eating milk and eggs etc.
Yesterday we all decided to order take out, we ordered Chinese. There is a beef-based dish that not only can Max eat, but it’s also his favorite, so we got a portion for the group as well as one just for Max. we sat down and started eating and when Olivia saw Max eating the dish she went to get some, Max quickly stopped her and told her it had beef in it.
She sat there and blinked a few times before asking why he was eating it then. Max sheepishly replied that he can eat this dish. She started yelling that he can’t make exceptions to veganism and vegetarianism when he feels like it. Max explains that he’s vegetarian because of medical reasons. Olivia told him that he shouldn't call himself a vegetarian then, quickly filled her plate and went to her room.
Today Olivia refused to talk to anyone and would leave the room if Max came in. Max was clearly upset, I asked Dan to take him out somewhere while I talked to Olivia, because I couldn’t promise she wouldn’t yell again. They left and I knocked on Olivia’s door and asked to talk, she let me in and I told her that the way she’s been treating Max is not okay.
She said she felt lied to, she thought she had someone who cared about the same things that she did. I told her that it’s okay to feel that way but that’s not Max’s fault and what she’s doing is wrong, she yelled at me saying it was in fact Max’s fault for misappropriating the label vegetarian and started comparing it to being hate-crimed.
I shut that down right away. She’s literally the only one in the group that doesn’t belong to a minority so this did tick me off. I left to join Dan and Max, who had gone to the arcade. When we (me, Max and Dan) got back, we made a disturbing discovery. The place was a mess. Max’s stuff had been thrown into the living area, this also included some of his gaming equipment and medical stuff which had been damaged.
Any meat product had been opened and thrown in the trash, empty milk cartons in the sink, which had been full so I think she emptied them. Her shelf in the fridge was empty and anything that was vegan friendly, so most of Max’s food but also some of Dan’s food, was also gone. There were two rooms on one side and two rooms on the other and she and Max’s rooms were next to each other.
We called our RA and she was really nice and calm (probably because Max was crying at this point), she said she would talk to Olivia, and would probably have her moved because this wasn’t appropriate. We literally did our food shop a few days ago so we don’t really have enough money to replace anything.
91. Nightmare In First Class
So we're heading out for a family vacation, flying first class for the first time. Our group has seven of the eight seats adjacent to the cockpit, with one rando seated amongst us. And boy did we find a Karen. Right from the get-go, Karen made her presence known. We board with my father-in-law, who is in a wheelchair, to find that for some reason this lady boards the plane along with the "passengers that need additional time to board”.
Yet, she seems to be moving around just fine. Seems her motivation to do so was to pack not only her overhead compartment with her multitude of carry-on items, but some of the adjacent one. Then the flight gets delayed for being short crew, and Karen immediately starts demanding a drink before we even leave the ground. As soon as the stewardess tells her no and walks off, she starts complaining to us about how terrible first class is with this airline.
And I'm already thinking, “Can you shut the heck up already”? Then comes the inevitable "We can just leave without the crew member, right”? Apparently, she wasn't paying attention because the missing crew was the freaking pilot. We were released back out to the terminal for a bit to stretch since the delay was so long, and we return to our seats to find my daughter's seat occupied by Karen's friend, who was flying economy.
After standing around and clearing our throats several times to try to get their attention, it is obvious they have no awareness of anyone outside their bubble. Finally, after myself, my daughter, and my mother-in-law all ask them to clear out they finally acknowledge that they're in someone else's seat. After all this, we eventually get up in the air—but that doesn’t solve the problem.
Cue Karen slamming back glasses of vino. After the third glass, she's obviously already inebriated because she then dumped the entire fourth glass on my teenage daughter, and didn’t even acknowledge that she’d done it. No sorry, no "here's a napkin", she just immediately started demanding another drink from the flight attendant.
It’s worth mentioning, as my daughter told me later, that Karen immediately pocketed all the wet wipes, napkins, peanuts, and every freebie within reach. All the while she's keeping her mask down while she is drinking, but the second I take mine off to drink some water this woman grabs my arm and starts demanding that I put my mask back on.
Are you serious? Gonna complain about a mask but totally okay touching strangers? Ok Karen. At this point, I finally tell the stewardess about everything, and they stop serving her, but she still spends the rest of the trip complaining about how awful this airline is, trying to talk to my daughter the entire time who is legitimately worried this moron is going to puke on her. Poor kid.
92. Rotten To The Core
I went on a weeklong trip up the east coast when I was younger with my boyfriend at the time. It was a Tuesday-Tuesday trip. At the time we went, I had my “friend” staying with us because they fell on some hard times. It had been around a month and everything was going great, so we decided to ask them to watch the house for the week as we had three dogs.
We pretty much told them to take the car, do whatever, have some alone time, get a little vacation from the very tragic event that happened in their life and we would pay for their food as they did not have a job—but JUST TAKE CARE OF THE DOGS. I'm sure you can sadly see where this is going. Well, we decided to get home one day early and I'm not sure if it was a blessing or luck or just whatever.
When we got home, I noticed that the car I had purchased just that month had side-swiped a yellow pole of some sort. So, naturally, I'm fuming already. I come up and open the door to three random guys on the couch, all making a mess in my RENTED townhouse. The hardwood floor had random spots all over it, some covered in towels, and there was now a baby/doggie gate up, blocking all three dogs in the kitchen who were just almost screaming instead of barking at the excitement of seeing us.
Immediately, I threw everyone out before even walking around further in the house. Of course, my “friend” used this opportunity to get out with the people while I was not paying attention and running around in a frenzy. She must have had a bag packed, like she was going to leave just before we came back anyways. When I say the house was destroyed, I mean it was disgusting.
We came to find out that all of the spots on the hardwood floor in the living room were dry spots of dog pee that weren't cleaned up and caused the floors to ripple up. Under the towels throughout the house was wet dog pee that was just left to dry on its own. I assume they were so angry at the dogs peeing in the house, that now the dogs were left and gated off in the kitchen for what looked like the entire weekend.
Walking into the kitchen, the piles/puddles of dog poop and pee were ABUNDANT. I had two full-size Dobermans, and those things ate like horses and pooped like them too. The miniature pinscher, well, you never even really noticed when she went to the bathroom, but still, not the point. The grout in the kitchen reeked of dog pee for months.
There was so much of it that it flowed together in a huge pile, made a literal 6-foot long creek of dog pee where I guess the tile sloped, and leaked behind the stove and absorbed in the freaking drywall behind the stove.
AND—the WORST part, one of the Dobermans ended up with a UTI!!!! We noticed it because within the puddles of pee in the kitchen, there were pink puddles. I freaking cried for hours holding my dogs. The cosmetic list just kept growing. But, I wasn't angry about my belongings or the townhouse, really, but the utter *neglect* and disrespect for my animals that DEPEND on me/humans in general to take care of them!! It disgusted me to my core.
I felt their personalities shift a bit around anyone who ever came over after that. It was heartbreaking. My dogs were literally sleeping in their own pee and poop the entire weekend, at minimum. It was clear they were not taken care of at all and I was never able to go on another trip without taking them because I was afraid they would be neglected and I would come home to them gone, no matter who watched them!
I don't know if they ever ate or what. I can't honestly say they were ever let out. It was hands down the worst experience ever, and the one and only time I ever had a houseguest or someone watch my animals. She left some of her belongings and I threw every single thing she left away. It was never worth trying to get her to pay for anything because, well, she didn't have a job and I probably would have blacked out from sheer anger if we ever crossed paths again.
93. Mood Swings
My wife is pregnant with our daughter. Initially, we were really happy and excited about it. But then, it all goes wrong. She starts acting like a nut job. She gets angry and irritated at small things, insults me when she doesn't like the food I make, starts acting insecure, and accuses me of losing my attraction for her. For example, she wanted to eat chicken sandwiches for dinner last week.
Well, I made chicken sandwiches. So she eats all the sandwiches, leaves me nothing, and told me that they tasted like garbage. If she didn't like them, why did she have to eat everything? When I asked her this, she told me that she was hungry. Ok fine. She does this every time. Eats everything I make and calls it garbage. I don't argue with her because I work for more than 80 hours a week and I really want to have some peace when I'm home.
So, yesterday, a random girl starts flirting with me after the gym and asked me if I wanted to meet up with her for some drinks. I rejected her and told her that I was married. And when I got home, my wife started to hug me and apologize. That’s when I learned the dark truth. When I asked her what happened, she told me that her best friend suggested a test for my loyalty.
So they asked a mutual friend to flirt with me and ask me out. And I passed. Yay?!!? I'm really angry. I'm done with her antics.
94. Bad Samaritan
So about 10 months ago I was there when this guy collapsed outside a strip mall store. He had a medical alert bracelet on about a heart condition. The paramedics get called and they arrive QUICKLY. They showed up in a four-door pickup with bed shell, all fire engine red, flashing lights and sirens, fire department and paramedics all over the truck.
They jump out and start hooking this guy up to a blood pressure cuff, sticking the heart monitor pads to him, etc. I’ll never forget what happened next. Karen rolls up behind the paramedics' truck and starts screaming the truck cut her off at the intersection…once again, they had lights and sirens on. Then she demands the paramedic LOOK AT HER as she melts down while he is starting CPR on the victim!
The paramedic is ignoring her entirely, but has to get something from the truck, she blocks his way and gets moved aside, as he goes to the truck. But Karen wasn’t done yet. This is where she pulls out pepper spray and hoses the standing paramedic directly in the face. She's STILL not done, and she sprays the second paramedic on the ground.
Then, just for the trifecta, she hoses down the heart attack victim—while screaming he is too young to have a heart attack!. I took it as my cue to remove her pepper spray, and hold onto her (with others) until the authorities arrive. Still, others are trying to help with CPR while some try to help the paramedics wash out their eyes.
Amidst all the chaos, the authorities arrive, Karen goes immediately into handcuffs, and then attempts to bite/kick the officer, which results in getting hogtied and her shirt pulled over her face. And then, she somehow made it worse. As they arrest her she starts shouting, “Do you know who I am?” Ultimately, she got what she deserved.
They charged her with two counts of aggravated assault (with a weapon) on paramedics, two counts of assault on the officers, one count of aggravated assault (with a weapon) on the heart attack victim (who survived), and resisting arrest. She also is being sued by the heart attack victim for $10 million, which she apparently has...
Her trial is coming up. I bought a new suit for it and I will be there to testify with bells on! Since the entire event is on video from two cameras (and who knows how many cell phones) it will be interesting to see what her high-powered lawyers are going to cook up, but ultimately I hope she will be convicted. She’s facing a possible 65 years, but practically will only get about 10 maximum, if any prison time.
But she’s already started to pay the price for her terrible behavior. I later found out that her husband is a bank vice president and refused to make her bail. It took her 13 days to get her family to bail her out!
95. If You Can’t Take The Heat…
While my brother Kyle and his friend Josh were surfing, Josh’s girlfriend Luna and I were sunbathing on the beach. It was hot and about a hundred degrees, so we were in bikinis. We were talking about the usual stuff when I noticed some teenager, who looked like he was 15 or 16, watching us. Luna and I ignored him, but only until he started getting closer and closer to us.
Luna is short, but she's incredibly muscular from working out hours every day, so she seems intimidating to a lot of people. Anyway, when the guy was too close for comfort (arm's distance away from Luna and me), I asked if there was something he wanted from us, because he'd been watching us for at least 15 minutes. The guy never looked at my face, just my chest.
Yeah, I was in a bikini, but I was covered. The guy's mom (our Karen) came over to Luna and me at this point, then asked if we could cover up. Luna looked at Karen with a “Really”? expression, and Karen had that entitled face. "It's only fair. You're distracting my son, and I'm afraid you'll seduce him with your bimbo wear". Luna and I looked to each other and burst out laughing.
I know it was kind of rude, but when would you hear “Cover up”! at the beach during a heatwave? Kyle and Josh came back to us, and Josh asked if everything was OK. Karen pitched a fit that Luna and I were seductive and flashing her son. "Only in your son's dreams, lady. We were not flashing your son." Karen looked like she was going to smack Luna, so Josh stepped between them to keep them apart.
Kyle saw a patrolling cop on the boardwalk and waved him down. The officer had red hair, like my brother and me. He waved to Kyle and me, then came over and asked if everything was alright, and if there was a problem. Karen looked smug. "These harlots were trying to seduce my baby boy! Arrest them for exposing themselves to a minor!" The officer just looked from Kyle and me back to Karen.
What he said next was epic. "Lady, my cousin is not a harlot, your son isn't a baby, and if you had any brains at all, you'd teach your son to respect women and not see them as 'scantily clad objects' during a heatwave. By the way, do you see the ocean? We're at a beach. My cousin can wear anything she likes." Karen's jaw dropped, then she grabbed her son's arm and pulled him away while Kyle and me, Josh and Luna were just grinning.
I didn't just soak up the sun, I basked in the awesomeness of my officer cousin!
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96. Sharing Isn’t Caring
Okay, so, this happened a few years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday and to be honest, still can't understand what my sister was thinking. A little backstory: My sister and I had to share EVERYTHING as kids. Not to mention I was forced to be her and our younger brother's "second mother", but that’s a story for another time. For some of my childhood, I was happy to share things with my sister.
Sweets, snacks, toys—the normal kid things. There are four years between us, I'm the oldest and as you can probably guess, when I reached my teen years I wanted my own things and to spend time alone. Nope. She wanted me to do everything with her. I could barely spend ten minutes in the bathroom before she would start banging on the door.
Unfortunately, when I was around 15, my siblings and I were taken into foster care. We were separated from our brother which was difficult for both of us and for a while I didn't mind my sister wanting to spend all her time with me. Shortly after my 16th birthday I wanted to have my own space and things that are, well, mine.
She would argue with me over not sharing MY stuff and of course, typical sibling fights and yelling happened almost every other day. We sort of grew out of our sibling squabbles over the years but she kinda developed a "the-world-owes-me" attitude which drove me crazy. I did my best to hold in my frustrations but I'm human and sometimes…I kinda snapped.
A couple of years after my daughter was born, my sister and I weren't really talking much because of her selfish attitude towards me spending most of my time and income on my daughter. During one of the times we were on good terms, she was over for the weekend and everything was okay. Until a conversation lead to her telling me she was going to take my daughter for a week because she wanted to spend time with her because it was "her turn."
I said, "Not gonna happen. She is MY daughter, not a doll or pet we share”. She gets mad and starts yelling. I told her to leave and she argues how "she had parental rights" and "social services will force me to allow her to take my daughter whenever she wants". I laughed, told her to get out and don't come back. Honestly, I don't know if she seriously thought that it was her right to have my daughter.
97. Leave It Well Enough Alone
For the past few months, I've suspected that my upstairs neighbor has been taking some of my mail. I buy a lot of things online like books and craft supplies and every now and then there's been small things that were meant to arrive on a certain day that never did. One day, I caught her wandering around my front door. When I asked her what she was doing she said "Oh, I was looking for something I think I dropped into your yard”.
I got surveillance cameras installed a while ago, which were not noticeable to my neighbors. The camera that's pointed at my front door isn't visible from the driveway. So here comes the trap. I purchased a few postage boxes to set up for her. The first one was a glitter bomb. I set up the box to make sure she would get glitter to the face as soon as she opened it.
I packed it to make it look like a postage parcel, then sat it at my front door. 20 minutes later I saw her walking to my front door. She looked around then picked up the box and walked away. My only regret is that I didn't get to see her reaction when she got a face full of glitter. I haven't noticed any other mail going missing after that, but she will regret it if she does it again.
98. What A Pain
I have rheumatoid arthritis, a condition that causes severe chronic pain. I take a narcotic pain medication as part of pain management, but yesterday, my doctor decided to increase the dose. That’s when it all went wrong. My pharmacy did not stock the medication in this dose, and neither did any other local pharmacies, so my doctor called around, and found this boutique-like compound pharmacy in an upscale neighborhood that had it.
He called the pharmacist, explained the situation, and sent me over there. The moment I walked through the door, I was greeted with hostility. The pharmacist angrily asked what I was doing there because he had not seen me before, and when I told him that my doctor had called him, he said he did not remember. When I showed him my prescription, he rolled his eyes and said, “Oh you like narcotics. Give me your ID and insurance card.”
This irritated me, but I complied. When he pulled up my patient profile, he ran a background check and asked why I was trying to fill this prescription when I had gotten one two weeks ago. I explained that I had been given that medication, and my doctor was giving me another prescription to increase the dose. His response? “Well, I’ll see to it that you won’t see this prescription until you bring the old one back. You’re probably selling these pills to your little friends.”
I was frustrated, but I told him that was no problem, and that I’d have to go back home to get the old prescription and that I would return in a day or two. But he wasn’t finished. As I was walking out, I heard him mutter, “She probably has to get those pills back from her crackhead friends.” This was a day ago, but I’m still very hurt and angry. I never fill CII prescriptions early, never misuse them, and I was nothing but polite to that man.
99. Sleepover
He has a longtime friend of his (who happened to be female) who was staying the night. She was sleeping in the basement bedroom and we were upstairs. Well, he slipped out of bed in the middle of the night and woke me up. When he noticed, he told me he had to go to the bathroom. I guess I already had my suspicions, because I lay there and listened to him walk down the hall, then past the bathroom, and down the stairs.
So, I followed. And caught him in the basement getting ready to have sex with her. Oh. I was not a happy puppy. Was stupid and tried to salvage our engagement, but I wasn't "fun anymore" and he left.
100. Room Service
For a full year, my college roommate secretly slept with my boyfriend while I was in class. I routinely took more than a full course load and was in math and science classes or study groups every morning. One day, I walked in to see a horrifying sight. They were just fully in the act after I came back early from a canceled class.
I moved out. I was more angry at her than heartbroken. I also lost most of my friends through the breakup, and they stuck together for a good while. Fast forward five years later. Those two throw a crazy expensive engagement party at the guy's parents' beach house, which was attended by some still-mutual friends who told me everything.
At the party, she caught him sleeping with one of the waitresses from the catering company in a bathroom. They still got married. I feel a little bad for her despite the karma balance. She feels like she can't do better than being with a cheater.
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101. Hotel Havoc
I used to work as a front desk agent at a boutique hotel. A guy who was obviously very full of himself came in with an online reservation that he had booked at a shockingly cheap nightly rate. He proceeded to give me a hard time about EVERYTHING, from telling me he shouldn't have to give me his credit card info since he had prepaid his reservation, to telling me "Um yeah, I'm pretty sure I can find the elevators, I'm not stupid."
He was just being an all-around jerk. About 10 minutes after checking him in, he came down and demanded that we give him a bigger room with a king bed and a view, even though he had booked a standard queen bed online. I complied, as we had extra king beds available. 10 minutes later, he came down again to complain about the size of the room.
He told me, "I'm only going to give you one more chance to make me happy," and asked for the general manager. After much arguing between him and my manager, we ended up giving him our nicest suite AND free parking since we had "Given him trouble." He got all this for a way cheaper rate, like $40 per night! Oh, but he outdid himself.
Get this: He informed us shortly after the ordeal, while on his way out to dinner, that he was not even going to be in the room for the majority of his stay, as he was visiting friends and would be staying at their home. What the heck! So I made it my personal mission to make his life a living nightmare from that point on.
I reset his room keys every time I saw him leave the hotel—which was quite frequently, 3-4 times a day. It was particularly funny when he came back tired from a night out and had to come all the way down to the front desk to get his keys fixed. Needless to say, he was very frustrated by the end of his stay. I doubt he'll be staying with us again.
