We Happen To Know Several Boys Who Are VERY Cute

, , , , , , , | Friendly | February 4, 2021

I’m walking through a park and a very sweet puppy comes over to say hello. I don’t pet it in case that isn’t okay with its owner, but I greet it as warmly as I can.

Me: “Hey, cutie!”

The puppy’s owner whirls round to glare at me.

Owner: “He’s a boy, actually!”

The owner stormed off, pulling the poor puppy behind him. I didn’t think puppies had a concept of gender, let alone one so fragile that being called a cutie might threaten one’s masculinity.

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Where Would Jesus Park?

, , , , , , | Right | January 5, 2021

It’s a lovely day and my husband and I decide to just go to the local state park and enjoy the day. While I can walk, I can’t go far, so for good distances, I use a wheelchair and have a legal placard to park in reserved handicap spaces.

We pull into a handicap spot and put up the placard, and I am waiting for my husband to get the wheelchair for me when an SUV pulls into the next spot beside us. I watch as the woman gets out and starts to walk away. Not seeing a placard, I ask my husband:

Me: “Can you see if there’s a handicap tag?”

Husband: “There isn’t.”

I call to her and she walks back.

Me: “Why are you parking in a handicap space without the required tag or card? It’s a $250 fine for doing so, and there are regular spaces not that much further back.”

She points to the Jesus fish on her trunk.

Woman: “That’s all the permission I need.” 

I reported it to the park office and the SUV was gone when we decided to leave. I hope she got a ticket for it. If she did, she probably tried to argue that her Jesus fish protected her and how dare they expect her to pay the fine.

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From Now On, This Is What We’re Calling ‘Em…

, , , , , | Right | January 4, 2021

I overhear a tourist on the phone at a park that has lots of peacocks.

Tourist: “There’s blue disco chickens everywhere here, man…”

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Karma Is Sweet And A Little Muddy

, , , , , , , | Friendly | December 28, 2020

I’m taking my dog for walks in the linear park — a former railway line — behind my house. Although I’m middle-aged, I have arthritis, so I walk with a cane.

As I’m walking, I see three teenage boys on bicycles coming towards me. And then, I can suddenly tell they’ve seen me, too. The atmosphere changes.

I call my dog over to me, stop walking, and stand to one side of the path. They speed up on their bikes and I can now hear them using ableist slurs between them. I brace for trouble.

As they pass, one of the boys sticks his leg out, aiming to catch my cane with it and send me tumbling.

There is a flaw in his plan. My walking stick is light and thin… because it’s made of reinforced carbon fibre. And I have my full weight bearing down on it.

His foot hits my cane and suddenly he and his bike are going in different directions. His bike smashes into a tree whilst he crashes to the ground, into a big muddy puddle.

Big brave boy on his bike about to knock over a “cripple” is now muddy and wet, and his bike is damaged. So he bursts into tears.

I burst into laughter, and then my dog and I walked home. I think even my dog was laughing at him.


This story is part of our Bicycle roundup!

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Read the Bicycle roundup!

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It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year To Unleash Your Dog

, , , , , | Friendly | December 23, 2020

I compete regularly in triathlons so I am quite confident in how to handle a bike. The day before Christmas Eve, I ride my bike for exercise in a city park, where dogs have to be kept on a leash, in the early morning when it is still dark. I have all my lights on, wear a reflective vest, and while I do exercise speed, I do slow down before I reach a curve, knowing that pedestrians and normal cyclists use the park.

When I reach such a curve, without warning, a black dog suddenly comes up in front of me, catching me by surprise. Instead of doing an emergency brake, I swerve around the dog, lose control of my bike, and crash directly into a tree. While shaken and definitely aching from that encounter, I still am aware enough to note that the dog owner, also on a bike, casually drives by me being followed by her dog.

Me: “Hey, stop! You do know dogs should be kept on a leash here, right? Your dog just caused an accident here and I think my bike is damaged. Please stop so I can take your contact details in case there is any payable damage here.”

The owner stops and instantly screams at me.

Dog Owner: “How dare you accuse my dog of causing an accident?! If you are too stupid to ride a bike, you should not even be out here!”

I am speechless, especially that she nonchalantly keeps cycling away. While I am hurt and my bike is damaged, it is still working and I lift myself up and follow that woman on my bike until we leave the park and arrive at a traffic light.

Me: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Your dog cannot just cause an accident with you running away as if it does not concern you. I don’t mind the bruises and everything but, in case I need compensation for bike repairs, I really need your contact details. If nothing comes out of it, no harm, no done.”

Cue continued yelling and screaming at me complete with refusal to give me her contact details. Then, when another pedestrian comes near us, this happens:

Dog Owner: “Help! Help! I am being harassed by this man! Please call the police! He doesn’t want to leave me alone!”

In the only stroke of luck that day, the pedestrian happens to be a good acquaintance of mine. After recognizing me, he says straight to the woman:

Acquaintance: “You are a liar. I have known this man for a long time and he would never harass anyone unless he had a legit cause.”

Flabbergasted, the woman then hightailed it across the road just as the pedestrian sign turned red and she just made it to the other side when the cars started crossing. Not wanting to risk my life for another chase, I went with my acquaintance to the police to report the incident and have yet to hear from them. Thanks a lot, lady, for making me spend Christmas with several grazes, a bruised elbow, and a bike in need of repairs if I want to use it for triathlons again.

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