No Rest Even In The Restroom

, , , , , | Friendly | March 15, 2018

(I’m an 18-year-old female. I go to a party at the house of some friends. It’s a very family-friendly party. There are people of all ages there including lots of kids. There is no alcohol, but there is lots of good food. When I arrive, I warmly greet various friends, including a man much older than me. We’re not close friends, but we do know each other from previous encounters. He makes small talk with me as we both move through the house. I’m in a good mood, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the party, and smiling as we talk. I’m headed for a hallway with a bathroom, and I assume he’s heading for the nearby kitchen, where the biggest crowd of people are helping themselves to food. But as I start to enter the bathroom, he’s right on my heels.)

Me: “Oh, were you going in here? I’m sorry.”

(I step back away from the door.)

Man: “No, I’m going in there with you.”

Me: *taken aback* “Um, why?”

Man: “In case you needed help.”

(I am flabbergasted for a moment, and then creeped out, and then angry.)

Me: “I don’t need help peeing, thanks.”

Man: “Are you sure?”

Me: *feeling really angry now* “Yeah. I’m sure.”

(I closed the door with me inside the bathroom and him outside it. I locked the door. If you’re ever in a situation where an old man mistakes your friendly demeanor for flirting, don’t do what I did: lock yourself alone in a bathroom until you calm down and then spend the rest of the party avoiding that old man without telling anyone what happened. Thankfully, he seemed to be embarrassed and avoided me as much as I did him for the rest of the party. Looking back, years later with more life experience, I know now how lucky I was that day, and that I should have immediately gone looking for the hosts of the party for help.)

A Conversational Attack

, , , , , , | Romantic | March 12, 2018

(It’s the middle of dead week, so I decide to multitask by polishing my term paper while eating dinner in the on-campus cafeteria. Someone I don’t know sits in the other seat of the two-person booth I’m in, but I figure the cafeteria’s packed and there’s nowhere else to sit.)

Stranger: “Hey.”

Me: *not paying attention* “Hi.”

Stranger: “How’re you doing?”

Me: “Eh.”

Stranger: “What’re you working on?”

Me: “Term paper.”

Stranger: “Cool. What class?”

Me: “I don’t want to be rude, but this paper is due tomorrow, and it’s worth half my grade, so I’d rather focus on this.”

Stranger: “God, I just wanted to talk.”

Me: “It’s dead week, it’s six pm, and I’m in pajama pants. My hair is clearly overdue for a wash, I’m eating and typing with considerably more focus on the latter, and I’m sitting at a table that can hold meals for two, or a meal and laptop for one. What made you look that that and think, ‘That’s a girl crying out for small talk with a stranger’?”

Stranger: “You don’t need to be such a b****.”

Me: “Apparently, I do.”

The Kind Of Person Who Puts The Shotgun Into “Shotgun Wedding”

, , , , | Right | March 12, 2018

(I’m finishing up with a very normal sales call when suddenly everything changes.)

Customer: “You have a nice voice. I can tell you’re a beautiful woman. How old are you?”

Me: “I’m 21. So, we have your set up date as [date]. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “Are you married?”

Me: *lying* “Yes.”

Customer: “You should leave him and marry me. I can tell you’re a nice girl. I’ll be at your work tonight with flowers, waiting.”

Me: *standing up and flapping my arms at management across the room* “That’s very nice of you, but please, don’t. I’m going to transfer you to the confirmation line now.”

Customer: “You will be my bride!”

Me: “Have a great day.” *transfers*

Manager: *runs up* “What happened?”

Me: “I need an escort to my car in an hour.”

Manager: “Why?”

Me: “Remember that crazy person who said he would shoot up the building last month? This is worse.”

Manager: “A bomb?!”

Me: “Forced marriage.”

Manager: “S***. [Coworker]! Can you walk [My Name] to her car? You’re bigger than me!”

(And yes, Crazy Marriage Guy did show up an hour after I left. Security left the flowers at my cubicle. This is why I said it was worse. Angry people say they will kill people all the time, willy-nilly. Really crazy people try to marry you.)

She’s Not Gonna Truck You

, , , , | Friendly | March 9, 2018

(I am taking my dad’s truck out to get filled up. The gas station is empty except for one truck at a diesel pump. There’s one other pump I can use, so I circle around to pull in. As I’m doing so, a car comes screeching into the lot, goes the wrong way down a one-way lane, and pulls into the last diesel pump. I’m a little flustered, but I decide to go inside to get some milk while I wait. As I drive by, [Truck Driver] gives me a sympathetic look. I go in, get my milk, and get back in the truck to drive around and wait. That’s when I hear screaming and roll down my window.)

Truck Driver: “You’re the one who broke the law to cut off a young woman! Look at all these open pumps you could have used, and you took the only one she could!”

Car Driver: “Man, I already told you. I’m just tryna get home. You get out my face and I’ll get out the way of Miss Princess B**** over there.”

Truck Driver: *infuriated* “How dare you insult a woman? She has done nothing wrong! If anything, you’re the one acting like the Princess, thinking you’re better than everyone else!”

Car Driver: *also infuriated* “Yeah? What’s that make you? You’re the one holdin’ up the situation. She was being a good girl and turnin’ the other cheek. Now you’re holding her up cuz you wanna act like a hero. You’re the one making this into something it ain’t gotta be.”

(They’ve started moving toward each other at this point, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to get involved or I might get hurt, but I don’t want to just leave and let it happen. So, I stay in the truck and yell out:)

Me: “Excuse me, sir! I don’t mind that you took the spot, but if you’re done with it now, I would like to use it so we can all go home.”

(They both look at me for a moment, and then back at their pumps, which have both stopped. They glare at each other the whole time they’re walking back to their pumps. As they finish up, [Car Driver] leaves first and flips off [Truck Driver]. I then pull up to pump my gas.)

Truck Driver: “I’m sorry about him. Unfortunately, this is something that happens a lot when you drive a truck. It’s happened to me quite often, as well, so I lost my head a bit over it. I’m sorry I held you up.”

Me: *just wanting to leave at this point* “It’s all right.”

Truck Driver: “Would you mind if I paid you back?”

Me: “That’s really not necessary.”

Truck Driver: “Come on; let me take you to dinner or something. I like women who can handle a truck.”

Me: *really creeped out* “I’m seventeen, and this is my dad’s truck.”

Truck Driver: *going pale* “Oh, uh… You look… much older. Um… I should just… yeah…. I’m sorry.”

(He then hopped in his truck and took off. My dad won’t let me fill up his truck again.)

Carting Towards Disaster

, , , , | Right | March 9, 2018

(As a young woman working at a big box store, I get plenty of old men who think they can get away with pretty much anything: grabbing, lewd comments, etc. One regular decides it’s funny to bump me with his cart. I usually work behind a desk, but he bumps me anytime he sees me walking through the store or cleaning up displays. One day he is passing me and hasn’t said anything, so I think he hasn’t seen me. Suddenly, he swerves his cart and hits me in the stomach. I double over and fall to my knees.)

Me: “The baby! The baby! My baby!”

Customer: “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were pregnant!”

Me: *getting up* “I’m not. But I could have been. Maybe you should stop running into people on purpose. It’s rude and inconsiderate, and you could really hurt someone.”

(He just stared at me, open-mouthed, for a minute, then hurried away. But he never hit me with a cart again.)

1 Thumbs
Page 1/1312345...Last
Next »