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I'm the only secretary at a little engineering firm, and last January, my boss asked me to do traffic control for a day on this little tiny stretch of mountain road while some drilling work for a soil excavation was going on. The pay was >$40 an hour ( ) so I figured, "Eh, should be easy enough, why the hell not?" It was incredibly boring, since like I said, it was such a little-traveled road that I only got, at the most, one car every minute or so. There were no incidents, it was pretty uneventful...UNTIL about 4 PM or so. The section of road they have blocked off (just enough for their big truck with the drill in the back, along with a few other cars) is so small that all I had to do was stand in the middle of two cones marked "STOP" and wave people through after making sure no one was coming from the other direction. A little red Smartcar looking thing stops, okay, that's normal. I start waving, no one's coming the other way, it's all good. But he won't drive forward. At this point my boss, who was taking a water break at the time, starts walking towards him, going "You can go, it's okay". Then a guy gets out of the car, walks over to the cone with the "STOP" sign sticking out of it, reaches out, and smacks over the cone. My boss is like "  What are you doing? Why the gently caress are you touching our stuff?!" This next part I will never forget; this little guy (looked like he was about 5'6" at the tallest), popped collar on his polo shirt, the works, puffs up like a rooster and goes "BECAUSE I CAN!  " Then he just turns around, hops in his little car and drives off, leaving my boss and I staring after him. 
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Feb 22, 2013 22:07
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HelloIAmYourHeart posted:Guys selling bras out of a tupperware bin, unsolicited, at a fast food restaurant. By any chance do you live in the NE Ohio area? Because a few months ago I was in line at a Gabriel Brothers (discount clothing store that sells slightly imperfect clothes) in Akron behind an extremely sketchy-looking middle aged guy who had two shopping carts that were packed to the gills with bras. He had to have bought out their entire stock in one go. He was maybe halfway through the first cart and had a running total of $300 by the time they opened up another register.
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Feb 23, 2013 01:39
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Geoj posted:By any chance do you live in the NE Ohio area? Because a few months ago I was in line at a Gabriel Brothers (discount clothing store that sells slightly imperfect clothes) in Akron behind an extremely sketchy-looking middle aged guy who had two shopping carts that were packed to the gills with bras. He had to have bought out their entire stock in one go. He was maybe halfway through the first cart and had a running total of $300 by the time they opened up another register.
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Feb 23, 2013 01:53
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Azrael Alexander posted:You are talking about the Gabes that my mother works at. He clears out the entire stock of Lane Bryant bras every month. Has anyone thought to ask him why? I know I would have if it occurred regularly enough to be monthly.
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Feb 23, 2013 02:32
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Azrael Alexander posted:You are talking about the Gabes that my mother works at. He clears out the entire stock of Lane Bryant bras every month. I guess that explains why my wife can't ever find any Lane Bryant bras in her size...
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Feb 23, 2013 04:07
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He re-sells them online and makes a pretty decent profit, or so he says.
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Feb 23, 2013 04:18
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Azrael Alexander posted:He re-sells them online and makes a pretty decent profit, or so he says. Biguns require extra tethering fees. Trust me, I know.
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Feb 23, 2013 10:42
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"Oh, was that your car? I was running late for a doctor's appointment one October morning and ran out of my apartment to where I thought I had parked my car. It wasn't there. Well, not to worry yet, as the apartment complex had a large lot, and between my husband and myself, we would often switch spaces and forget where we last parked. I circled the building; no car. I returned to the spot that I became *certain* I had last left it in, and there was no car. I had a sinking feeling that it was stolen. Great. Just then, a construction person comes up to me and says "Hey, did you own that little red car?" "Um, yes?" "Oh, man. I'm sorry, that sucks. Your car was on fire, and they towed it out of here." My brain did a disconnect at this point and I struggled not to laugh, because what? My car was on fire? How? How does that even happen? The construction guy explained that the car next to mine had some sort of oil rag that ignited, and then lit my car on fire. I was asleep and missed all the commotion. Luckily, some of the local construction guys had taken pictures so I had a good timeline to show my insurance company when the time came:  To top all of it off: I called the wrong insurance company to report my claim. We spent about 10 minutes on the phone wondering why they couldn't find my info until I realized I switched insurances about 5 years ago. I cut her off when she tried to go into a sales pitch into switching to her company: "My car just burned down- I have things to do."
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Mar 4, 2013 07:53
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Leelee posted:"Oh, was that your car? Oh, crap. That sucks swamp water. Will insurance cover a new car? (And can you go after the moron next to you who started it?)
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Mar 4, 2013 17:50
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Effingham posted:Oh, crap. That sucks swamp water. Will insurance cover a new car? (And can you go after the moron next to you who started it?) Insurance covered the KBB value of the car, and was able to go after the other owner for our deductible. We didn't go after her personally, as it seemed more trouble than it was worth. Another quick WTC moment: When my friend and I were about twelve, we were sitting on a grassy incline facing a side street that was fairly busy with cars. We were just sitting there and talking. One of us noticed that a certain car looked familiar as it had circled the block a few times. It had come around a third time when a woman rolls down her window and starts screaming at us and saying "I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME, YOU LITTLE SHITS! TRY AND DENY IT! YOU LITTLE FUCKERS!" She then drove off.
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Mar 5, 2013 06:06
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Leelee posted:Insurance covered the KBB value of the car, and was able to go after the other owner for our deductible. We didn't go after her personally, as it seemed more trouble than it was worth. Obviously it was this woman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKybGHkncqI
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Mar 5, 2013 06:18
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TurboTax posted:Obviously it was this woman: What the hell is that even about? I keep remembering things- please tell me if I should stop telling stories. "Here, take the Cancer Cup" (names changed) Again, when I was about fourteen, I went with my friend Kate to a youth ministry trip. Our friend Linda had had leukemia, but it was in remission (don't worry, she is okay now at the age of thirty-something). After some Christian stuff (I don't know what was going on- I wasn't actually part of the church- I was just tagging along), we sat down to watch "My Life", which if you don't know, is a story about a terminally ill man who DIES in the end. It was in poor taste to show to a girl who was just in remission from cancer. My friend Kate and I tried to say something to the staff about not showing the movie, but we were chastised as "troublemakers" and that if we continued they would "fire up the car and take us home." I laughed my rear end off as I wasn't a member of the church and didn't care, but Kate was, so we had to just fume that they were such assholes about it. To top it all off, they gave her a cup of cocoa in a mug that was for the National Cancer Society. It was probably just by chance, but WTF? She was actually the pastor's daughter, so they *knew* about her history. 
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Mar 5, 2013 18:37
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Leelee posted:What the hell is that even about? There is a small(?) community of paranoid schizophrenics on the Internet who believe that pretty much anything that happens is evidence of systematic harassment by an organized group. Dude taking a walk on the corner? An unusual number of red cars passing by? Neighbours have a noisy dog? You better believe that's a gangstalkin'.
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Mar 5, 2013 21:47
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Back in 2002 I had just moved to a new part of town. I was driving around one night trying to find a store and ended up getting lost. I was on a road with no streetlights and had nothing but barren desert on both sides of the street. Up ahead I see a car parked on the side of the road. It was an old 1940’s era sedan painted in primer black, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The first think I noticed was that there was a woman dressed in an older style wedding gown standing motionless on the curb facing the street. With her veil down. Covering her face. On the other side of the car, there was a young man dressed in an old style tuxedo pacing around the hood. My first thought was “this is like the start of a really stereotypical ghost story!” and so I assume that this is some sort of prank and I start to slow down. As I pass the car, I notice that there is another person changing a flat tire on the curb side of the car while talking on a cell phone. After passing the WTC scene I stop my car and just stare into my review mirror looking to see if they have any reaction or to see if I can see a camera set up… and I can’t find anything. None of them had even looked at my car as I passed and gave no indication that I was there. The WTC for me was what lead to this scene? Was this young couple getting married in period clothing in an old car and got a flat? In that case, where did the guy come from that was changing the tire? There were no other cars parked around and nothing for a mile in either direction. And why would the bride be just staring out into the street with her veil down if she wasn’t trying to be creepy? Every time I think of this story I regret not stopping and asking if they needed help just so I could try and figure out what the hell was actually going on.
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Mar 5, 2013 22:31
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Maybe they were in a play? Got a flat on the way.
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Mar 6, 2013 14:04
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Huntersoninski posted:Maybe they were in a play? Got a flat on the way. I remember seeing a bunch of people dressed for Rocky Horror at a taxi stop in the middle of nowhere one night. An additional moment is that I was the only one in my group who recognised what they were dressed as.
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Mar 6, 2013 17:10
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Kaboom Dragoon posted:I remember seeing a bunch of people dressed for Rocky Horror at a taxi stop in the middle of nowhere one night. I love Rocky Horror but knowing the areas around here I wouldn't even realize it was a costume unless someone was in a seriously good Frank outfit or something. A friend and I were in a show in high school (The Man Who Came To Dinner, if anyone knows it) and had about an hour and a half from when we first went on stage to when we were needed again so we went out in our costumes and pretended we were time travelers. We had McDonald's and probably annoyed a lot of people, but it was fun. I loved wearing my wigs/costumes outside of the theater.
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Mar 6, 2013 20:12
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At Least I Won A Cooler In my 20's I went nightclubbing with my friend Kate. We met two scrubby guys who neither of us were interested in (it was just sort of a girl's night out). They insisted on talking to us, and as I got drunker and drunker, the conversation started getting odder. One of them pulled out a picture of their toddler. "Oh, she's cute", I said. "Where is she?" "Oh, she's home with my wife right now." I yelled at him for being out clubbing and hitting on girls while his wife was at home with a young child. He just sort of shrugged and went on drinking. It was closing time, so we all went to leave. The other guy we had talked to started a fight with someone else. He took off his belt and tried to whip his opponent. It was the silliest and wussiest thing I have ever seen. We edged away and started walking to our cars. Belt fighter came up to me and began professing his love to me. I looked at him and noticed he had blood all over his shirt. He asked for my number and I denied having a cell phone. Kate gave him hers instead. Her cell phone rang about 5 minutes later as we were driving. I had gotten a marriage proposal. The best part of the whole evening was that they were giving out raffle tickets if you bought a certain beer, and I won a cooler! Yeaah!
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Mar 6, 2013 20:45
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When I was in high school, my senior year, I played mentor to a kid in our Speech Competition Team. He wanted to learn the event I was good at, so I gave him some pointers and we ended up with this sort of big brother/little brother bond, which was awesome. We'd go driving around some nights, made sure his first drink was legit and didn't end up with him getting busted, he got pulled into my circle of friends in high school and learned how to be responsibly irresponsible. He's a great kid, just graduated...two years ago, I believe? Anyway, the story's not about him. It's about his cousin. After we hung out Fall semester, I took a class with him in Spring. Intro to Art, I had taken it every year because it's the only high-school level art class offered at my old podunk town, and I always had a free period that could either be spent at home playing video games, or doing whatever. By the time I graduated it was basically my period to have access to art supplies and I did whatever I wanted, but the point was that I got to spend the period bullshitting with Luis. He pulled his cousin along, too, because they were a close family and she had the same free period he did. I got to get know her over the course of the semester, and she was very quiet. She wasn't exactly shy or anything, she just didn't talk much. She didn't like dirty jokes, which was a bummer for Luis and I, but she was pretty cool all the same, if a little prudish and old-fashioned. Or so I thought. Today I was looking through my Facebook when I noticed she was posting about her one-year anniversary. It being a small school, I clicked her profile to see which kid she was dating. Turns out, she wasn't talking about dating. She's been engaged for a year, it was a one-year anniversary of an engagement. Alright, not what I was expecting, but no big deal. She was prudish in high school, she must have just tied the knot early with her high school sweetheart. Then I started piecing all the dates together  She was born in 1994. She graduates this year. This I knew, because Luis was two years older than her and graduated in 2011. Here's what I didn't know: She's dating a guy that graduated in 2006. Worse, the guy was born in 1986. So not only is he eight years older than her, but he got held back twice. In podunk high school USA. Apparently this wasn't even a case of elementary held-back or something, he was our school's one and only super-super-senior.  Aaaaaand the kicker: they started dating in May of 2011. Her birthday's in July. So for a brief moment in 2011, a 16 year old dated somebody eight and a half years older than her, and got engaged to him before her 18th birthday. What the gently caress is wrong with the world
Dickweasel Alpha has a new favorite as of 23:19 on Mar 10, 2013 |
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Mar 10, 2013 19:59
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Geoj posted:By any chance do you live in the NE Ohio area? Because a few months ago I was in line at a Gabriel Brothers (discount clothing store that sells slightly imperfect clothes) in Akron behind an extremely sketchy-looking middle aged guy who had two shopping carts that were packed to the gills with bras. He had to have bought out their entire stock in one go. He was maybe halfway through the first cart and had a running total of $300 by the time they opened up another register. No, Kansas City, MO. The bra salesmen in question were black guys in their early 30s dressed like contractors in Carhartt coats and Dickies.
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Mar 10, 2013 21:16
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Dickweasel Alpha posted:When I was in high school, my senior year, I played mentor to a kid in our Speech Competition Team. He wanted to learn the event I was good at, so I gave him some pointers and we ended up with this sort of big brother/little brother bond, which was awesome. We'd go driving around some nights, made sure his first drink was legit and didn't end up with him getting busted, he got pulled into my circle of friends in high school and learned how to be responsibly irresponsible. He's a great kid, just graduated...two years ago, I believe? Anyway, the story's not about him. It's about his sister. Well, which one is she?
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Mar 10, 2013 23:15
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gently caress, I fudged a bunch of minor details like that, and slipped on one.
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Mar 10, 2013 23:18
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Well was it his cousin or his sister?
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Mar 11, 2013 05:19
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Not really sure if this is WTC enough, but it freaked me out at the time. A couple weeks ago, I went to the movies with my boyfriend. It was a late showing, so we got back to my house at around 1 AM. We were sitting in the driveway and bullshitting while I was digging around in my purse looking for something, when a car pulls up in front of my house and throws on his flashers. We're both kind of confused, since it's 1 AM on a Wednesday and in a pretty quiet neighborhood. The driver gets out of his car and comes over my boyfriend's car and motions for him to roll down the window. He smells like alcohol, and once he talks I can hear him slurring a bit. The guy informs us he just so happened to run out of gas, and did we have a dollar? He swears he has a gas can, and can get to a gas station on his own if we'd just give him a dollar. When we tell him no, he eyes the console of the car and asks if we could even spare 75 cents. We tell him no, and my boyfriend nudges me in the ribs and loudly states that we need to leave. We drive away, and remark to each other that a few things didn't add up - like the slow controlled stop the guy performed going uphill, or offering to walk to a gas station when the nearest one was easily a 45 minute walk, which would have sucked pretty hard in the tshirt and gym shorts he was wearing. Plus, what the hell did the guy expect to get for a dollar of gas? We come across a cop and attempt to flag him down, figuring that if the guy was drunk (considering the alcohol smell and the slurring) then there's no way he should be driving, and if he really did need help, maybe the police could help since neither of us knew of any 24-hour tow services. We decide to park off a side road near my house and call the police. My boyfriend notices the guy is halfway into the road and was suspicious about the smell of alcohol. The dispatcher informs us someone will be on the way, so we decide to wait. I didn't particularly want to go into my house while there was some random guy was less than 10 feet from where I needed to go in. While the cops are en route, the guy fires his car back up and proceeds to back into my neighbor's driveway, and hangs out with the interior lights on. So much for being out of gas, I guess. The cops make it out and are barely with the guy for 10 minutes before leaving. I figure I may as well go home, since the guy is away from my house. However, on the way, I notice that the guy is gone. The car's lights are still on, and it's still parked in the neighbor's driveway (essentially blocking them in). The next morning, my neighbor was on her porch looking at the abandoned car like . By later in the day, the car was gone. I wasn't home, so I'm not sure what exactly happened. I haven't been able to find anything else, since the police in my area don't seem to like making their police blotter accessible. In retrospect, it doesn't seem that creepy, but at the time...TL;DR - Got creeped out by a guy randomly showing up in my neighborhood at 1 AM on a weekday and attempting to hustle me for a dollar for gas. Called the cops, have no idea what happened.
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Mar 11, 2013 07:28
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Melchiresa posted:... However, on the way, I notice that the guy is gone. The car's lights are still on, and it's still parked in the neighbor's driveway (essentially blocking them in).
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Mar 11, 2013 22:14
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My younger sister may have more WTC moments in her childhood than anyone I know. She was 2 or 3, which would have made me 10 or 11. I remember my grandmother bought her one of those sandboxes, the Fisher Price one, shaped like a turtle. My grandmother told my dad to buy sandbox sand, and my father scoffed saying that he had a wheelbarrow full of sand in the shed leftover from a cement project. It ended up being an argument, my grandmother and my mom against dad, saying that the sand they sell for sandboxes is finer, free of rocks, and sanitized; while my father argued sand is just sand. Finally he went out and just dumped the wheelbarrow in the sandbox, and that was that. A while later, I am playing outside with my sister. She was in a bathing suit and we're playing in the sprinklers. She decides she wants to play in the sandbox. I open it up for the first time, and plop her inside, and she wiggles down until the sand covers her up to the waist. The sand is bone dry, so I grab the hose and start pumping water in. A moment later, she screams. Some form of burrowing spider had formed a colony in the sand. No clue what kind, but they were evil looking, sturdy things with thick legs. As their home flooded, they were popping up out of the sand and heading for the highest point in sight. In this case, it would be the toddler. She is screaming and thrashing, popping up more and more spiders out of the sand. I try to grab her, but a freaking out toddler is impossible to grasp, and she keeps falling, throwing sand everywhere, spiders all around. I finally pull her onto the grass and I'm pulling spiders off of her. They're in her hair, in her bathing suit, little irritated spider bites all over her. Years later, my sister is talking about going to therapy partially for her crippling arachnophobia. She mentions a repeating nightmare she has, and I have to tell her that no, that really did happen. When she was in Daisy girl scouts, we were helping to get the area park ready for the beginning of the summer season. The little kids are picking up litter, us older kids were doing full on yardwork. Meanwhile the local Lion's club was preparing to open up their little snack booth/grill that was in a pavillion there. They found they still had ice cream cups left in the freezer, and offered them to all the kids as we took a break. The Daisies were all sitting on a bench eating their ice cream while inside, they fired up the grill to test it out. As soon as the large overhead ventilation fan kicked in, there was a loud racket, and suddenly over the Daisies was a splatter of blood and gore. Turns out that a large nest of birds was living in the vent, and startled by the sudden noise, they flew into the fan. The third one off the top of my head would have been while I was in college. My sister came to visit me, and I took her to a hiking path that bordered a gorgeous creek. At the time my sister had just gotten into photography and was pretty good for a kid. My parents had gotten her a better camera, so she was snapping pictures as we went. We hit this gorgeous overlook. The creek combined with a larger creek which had a bit of a waterfall, and in the Y was a large overlooking rock covered in moss and little flowers. The trees were dark and moss covered, and there was a bit of a haze to the air. My sister climbed up to get a better viewpoint, messed with her camera settings and finally had her perfect shot. As she went to take it, suddenly over the waterfall came tumbling the bloated corpse of a golden retriever. Somehow she didn't notice it at the time, and she climbed down to show me her perfect shot. She starts to zoom in on the screen and we are startled when we see the corpse. There's a moment of confusion. Then the smell hits us. We turn and realise the corpse has washed up near where we are standing and looks frankly like it's staring right at us--only it's eye sockets are bare. It still had a collar on. Different kind of WTC, more of a What the Hell moment, I was doing some volunteer work at Christmas time. We were making up gift baskets for local nursing homes about 600 ones, full of basic care products at a volunteer's house. Earlier in the day, the daughter of the woman who owned the house had been around. She was a teen and copping an attitude about everything and basically rolling her eyes at the fact that we were all doing this. While we were setting up some of her friends came over to pick her up, and she disappeared into her room to get ready. While she was gone, the friends helped us out with unloading the trucks and basically started talking to us. The guy I assumed was her boyfriend started talking to one of my friends there, and it turns out my friend is in a band that the boyfriend had seen. Basically all the other teens there were pretty laid back and helpful. When the daughter came out and saw her friends respeonse to us, she got angry. She was loud and pissy about how we were all doing this for stupid old people and how horribly embarrassing it was that her friend's were talking to these stupid, old friends of her mom's. Her friends seemed legitimately embarrassed by her attitude and we were all glad when they left with her. We had a few hundred baskets to put together and had bought cases of everything we were using. So, we were doing it assembly style. We had tables going down her halls and into two rooms. One person got a basket out of the case, put in the filler paper, handed it to the next person who got soap or lotion out of their case and so on, until there was a bunch of stuff in it, then the last people covered it in cellophane and added a bow. I was the last person on the chain, and I was on bow duty. We are almost done with the baskets, and suddenly the production line stops. Being the end of the line, I am actually around the corner in a bedroom so I popped out to see why. One of the tables is pushed away from the wall of the hall and everyone standing around is looking a little pissed off. I ask what's up. Turns out the daughter came back and demanded to get into a room that the table was blocking. She was still in the miserable attitude she was before, and they had to move the table and everything on and under it while she rolled her eyes and was all attitude. Finally they moved it enough that she could slip behind the table and through the semi open door. Now they all stood waiting for her to come back out. We had been sort of ignoring the girl's attitude earlier. After all, it was her house and her mom was nice enough to let all these people into her home. But at this point we're tired and cranky, we have less than 50 baskets left and we want to finish up and get something to eat. But she had shut down production. So we're outside making snider than neccessary comments about the girl in the room. We all shut up quickly when the homeowner comes down the hall and asks what the hold up is. We explain, but she stares at us like we're insane. "That's a linen closet" she says. She pulls open the door, and sure enough it's a linen closet. Shelves all the way down which meant that no one could fit in there with the doors closed. There was no other door in that part of the hall they could have mistaken it for either. It was the only one behind that table. While I didn't see anything myself, six people there interacted with the girl while they moved the tables and saw that girl go into that room, I know two of them fairly well. There would literally be no reason for them to lie about it. It would have been a pointless sort of prank, after all. We all wanted to go and this stalled us for a good 15-20 minutes. Plus, one or two of the people who saw her didn't seem like the type to have that good of acting skills. Her mother freaked out that it was a sign and called the daughter, who was fine, was on the other side of town and had not come home. Additionally, she was the only girl in the family, so it's not like they saw a sister or something to be mistaken. To this day, there's no explanation, really.
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Mar 13, 2013 19:55
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A few years ago when I was still living in the deep south, I drove downtown for a doctor's appointment. Wandering around the intersections in front of the state house was a guy dressed full on KKK, robe, hood and all. That was what the christ enough in itself, but then I took a good look at him and saw his hands... he was black. I took a picture, but I think it's been lost several computers ago.
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Mar 13, 2013 23:07
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Was it one of these fine gentlemen? I'm sorry, it's first thing I thought of.
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Mar 13, 2013 23:13
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Grrl Anachronism posted:A few years ago when I was still living in the deep south, I drove downtown for a doctor's appointment. Wandering around the intersections in front of the state house was a guy dressed full on KKK, robe, hood and all. That was what the christ enough in itself, but then I took a good look at him and saw his hands... he was black. I took a picture, but I think it's been lost several computers ago. Didn't Chapelle's Show do a sketch about this? I've only ever had one encounter with the KKK myself, but it's definitely burned itself into my memory. I want to say it was the Fourth or Memorial Day or something, and my family was driving to a nearby lake for a picnic. This was in Connecticut, which makes it extra weird. We were driving through a quaint little town, and there was a Klan rally going on in the square, causing a huge traffic jam as the idiots involved walked into traffic to hand out pamphlets to people in cars. I had no idea who they were, I just thought a bunch of grownups had decided to dress like ghosts for some reason. Anyway, one of the idiots saw my mom (very tall, blonde and Aryan-looking) behind the wheel and made a beeline for our car. She saw him coming and tried to roll the window up, but wasn't fast enough, and he shoved a pamphlet about racial purity in her face and said something I didn't catch. I can't remember exactly what she said, but I know there were a lot of curse words involved. The idiot then looked at the rest of us and noticed my very Semitic-looking father and my curly-haired, olive-skinned brothers and I. He said "Too late, I see" and moved on to the next car. My mother, who is an incredibly sweet, gentle woman was shaking with rage and cursing under her breath. I was too young and sheltered to really understand what was going on. I just remember being scared of how angry my mom was. I didn't think she knew those words, and to this day I don't think I've heard her say them again.
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Mar 13, 2013 23:51
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My top WTC moments have always been when I'm visiting my racist relatives in the Deep South. It would come up at the oddest occasions. I remember my cousin showing me his rifles and saying "this one's for shootin' deer, this one's for shootin' gators, and this one's for shootin' niggers." Another time we were playing basketball and he said, "You know, basketball was invented by niggers." When he heard about my sister's first boyfriend he straight away asked, "Is he white?" My last trip wasn't so bad. Just had to deal with my grandmother saying her whole family will become atheists if the new pope is black, a cousin saying she'll move to Canada when Hillary Clinton becomes president, and an aunt saying that "coons" have no fashion sense. 
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Mar 14, 2013 16:37
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Chamale posted:My top WTC moments have always been when I'm visiting my racist relatives in the Deep South. It would come up at the oddest occasions. I remember my cousin showing me his rifles and saying "this one's for shootin' deer, this one's for shootin' gators, and this one's for shootin' niggers." Another time we were playing basketball and he said, "You know, basketball was invented by niggers." When he heard about my sister's first boyfriend he straight away asked, "Is he white?" Conservative Americans threatening to move to Canada is just so silly. "I don't believe in Obamacare or gay rights so I'll go to Canada!" Well done, makes perfect sense.  I don't know if my grandparents were racist because I never got to know them very well, since they lived halfway across the country (in Indiana). But once when I was visiting them I remember my grandma saying "aw, look at the cute little blackies" when a black guy and some kids walked by. It blew my 12-year-old mind.
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Mar 15, 2013 06:52
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My mother and my father (quite the bigot himself) had his step-parents come out to visit from California sometime last spring, and decided it was a great idea to have me and my ex-wife over for dinner. Now, I just knew some stories, I had only met the guy a handful of times, the most recent had been my wedding back in 2008. Somehow his absurd brand of racism never quite revealed itself any other time I had been around him. Easily one of the most uncomfortable dinners I've ever had to sit through. Highlights include: - Deciding to order Chinese food, which he referred to as "Chinky-Chinky-Choo-Choo food" and asked how the guys in the kitchen could see what they're cooking with their eyes all squinty. He also made sure to check every single thing he ordered "to see if there was a dog collar in it" - Regurgitated just about every Tea Party email forward about Obama you've ever heard. He's a Muslim, he's a Socialist, he's a Nazi, he's a Kenyan, he's not legally President, he's got a criminal grandmother, he's going to convert us all to Islam, etc. He also told us that, at military funerals since Obama was elected in 2008, the members present are no longer legally allowed to say "The President of the United States wishes you etc, etc" when handing the flag to the family, and instead say "The United States of America wishes you etc, etc" because, you know, he's not really President. My ex-wife immediately told him that was bullshit because we had been to her uncle's military funeral just two weeks prior. He just smiled and said "Sorry, you're wrong sweetie" - "It's bad enough I can't change the channel without seeing faggots everywhere, now they can get married and my tax dollars are going to pay for their dresses and buttplugs?" - At some point his wife realized American Idol had started and turned on the TV my father has sitting on the kitchen table. First thing out of Dick's (yes, his name is really Dick) mouth is "Look at the chocolatey skin on that loving friend of the family!" as some black guy is singing. My parents never said a word (in all fairness, my mother had a nervous breakdown about eight years ago and usually isn't too sure of what's going on around her these days) and his wife just kept laughing and rolling her eyes. Anytime either of us tried to say anything, but politely, we were called bleeding heart liberals, commies, etc. I believe it was after the "chocolate friend of the family" comment that we stood up and told them that we had to leave and couldn't care to come up with a good excuse.
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Mar 15, 2013 15:20
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DorkusMalorkus posted:Conservative Americans threatening to move to Canada is just so silly. "I don't believe in Obamacare or gay rights so I'll go to Canada!" Well done, makes perfect sense. That reminds me of my grandmother telling me when I was 14 "Oh, Brazil nuts! Back in the day we called these friend of the family toes." She honestly didn't understand why it was bad to call them that.
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Mar 15, 2013 15:24
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They were called that back in the day though.
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Mar 15, 2013 17:02
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Manslaughter posted:They were called that back in the day though. Really? Because "friend of the family toes" is what my great-grandma called those little creme drop things. You know, the ones that were chocolate with this gooey creme inside? I live in the South, though, so admittedly, any food that was brown and small might be a candidate for the name. Edit: My grandma told me that I not only had to vote, but that I had to vote republican because her preacher alluded that if Obama got a second term that the end times were coming. My grandmother is a usually level-headed legal secretary, and actually voted Obama the first time around. She also made me watch the debate with her, even though I really, really don't care about politics. I don't know what happened while I've been gone from my home town, but Christ! Even my younger cousins (oldest is 19 and in college, the youngest is 13) have been brainwashed to think anyone with affiliations with the democratic party is an idiot, and actively believe that Obama is the worst president ever with the same fervor that people hated Bush a few years ago. Like I said, I'm not a very political person, but going home is a bizarre experience for me, often filled with "What the Christ?!" moments. DicktheCat has a new favorite as of 17:17 on Mar 15, 2013 |
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Mar 15, 2013 17:08
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You mean this one?  In the Netherlands those are still called negro kisses.
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Mar 15, 2013 17:18
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Oh yeah, racist grand-parents, or in my case, great-grandmother. I went to visit her when I was about twenty. First she yelled at me for visiting with my father: "Why are you with your father and not your friends? Don't you have any friends?" "It's Father's Day." "Oh." Next it was my dating life. "Just make sure never to marry a friend of the family. I'm sorry, but I'm old and I can say it. They're terrible. They're so ugly- the women too- don't you think so?" I think I nervously laughed and said I disagreed. She just harumpped at me. What made this even worse is that my uncle had an African American wife, so god knows what she had said to her. This woman was awful and had no trouble telling kids they were fat, presents given to her were terrible, and that she hated you. Oh, family.
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Mar 15, 2013 17:23
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I was visiting my grandfather with my then-girlfriend and we were driving past a river that's near his house. There's cypress trees that grow into the river and the roots turn the water black for whatever reason. My girlfriend asked why the water was black and my grandfather said it was because there was an all-black college upriver (there was) and the students bathed in the river.
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Mar 15, 2013 18:14
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I was driving through Southern California with a friend, and we were getting pretty thirsty. So we stop in a teeny tiny town named something like Ludwig or Plunkers and start following signs to a Starbucks. This tiny town is really generic, with a bunch of strip malls and subdivisions and such. As we're driving along the highway, we pass by a relatively normal hipster in a plaid shirt and jeans, riding a horse. On the street. In the road. On the highway. He's just cantering along to Starbucks, like he don't care.
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Mar 15, 2013 18:42
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My mother shares her birthday with Martin Luther King Jr, January 15th, and one time my grandparents (her parents) took her out to birthday lunch and then apologized to her for the fact that she had to share a birthday with "that man". In the same vein, my grandmother was once telling a story about how a friend of hers had accidentally gotten used fryer grease dumped all over her head. Apparently the smell lingered in her hair for weeks. It was rancid and, according to my grandmother, the woman "smelled like a black person." My grandparents have learned not to use racial epithets (at least around my immediate family) but they still hold very racist opinions and attitudes.
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Mar 15, 2013 20:48
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