canyoneer posted:

I smiled at the bus driver and the bus driver smiled back

canyoneer posted:

I smiled at the bus driver and he thought it was super weird.

canyoneer posted:

I smiled at the bus and the bus smiled back

Fathis Munk posted:

Fathis Munk posted:

Thin Privilege posted:

Guys, tonight I went to get groceries at 11pm. The bus driver said "hi!" to me so I said hi back. Got my groceries, then waited for the bus back. It was the same driver. He must have the lovely late night 4 hour long route. He said "hey, you again!" I said "hey!" Then took a seat.

Then, when I was leaving the bus, we again commented at the coincidence of being on he same route twice, together. I told him to have a good night and he literally started crying and had to put the bus in park, because I don't think anyone ever wishes the night bus drivers a good night.




I always wonder just how much embellishment is in these things. Doing a normal thing like saying "hey" turns into "I helped a bus driver not commit suicide!"

Big Grunty Secret posted:

canyoneer posted:

I smiled at the bus and the bus smiled back

Fathis Munk posted:

quote:

OctoberBlues posted:

It came from facebook...


I kind of want to reply "actually, her name is Caitlyn Jenner" but this lunatic or one of her friends would probably track me down and shoot me...

OctoberBlues posted:

poo poo, my bad, these stories are all starting to run together in my head and I think a friend of a friend actually just straight up stole the story instead of resharing it, so I thought it was a more local thing....

quote:

Plenty Of Room For Him To Make A Mistake
HOTEL | ALBUQUERQUE, NM, USA | HOTELS & LODGING, WILD & UNRULY
(I’m working the graveyard shift at a hotel. I am a 22-year-old female. This happens just as I have stepped outside to have a cigarette around 2 am. The man is a 40ish year old who is almost twice my size. He pulls up in a sporty little car.)

Drunk Male: “Ya got any rooms tonight, sweetheart?”

Me: “I’m afraid the hotel is sold out tonight, sir.”

Drunk Male: “Well, throw someone out. I’m a diamond member and you have to give me a room.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m not throwing anyone out. There’s lodging elsewhere.”

Drunk Male: “The customer is always right, and I’m the customer and I say throw someone out! I want a room.”

(This goes on for a little bit before he gets out of his car. He gets right in my face while towering over me.)

Drunk Male: *jabbing at me, then pulling back a fist like he’s going to hit me* “Look here. I said get me a room!”

Me: “If you’re going to swing at me, you’ve got one chance to connect, then I am going to introduce you to a whole new world of pain before the cops get here.”

(The drunk male pulled his arm back. I just smiled. He looked worried, then got in his car and peeled out. Best part, he cut off a cop on the way out of the lot, so I got to watch him get arrested, his car towed, and my faith in karma restored.)

BioEnchanted posted:

THose bus stories are nothing. In the UK we can literally Hi-5 our buses:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TB_7m0JCdbw

Some Awesome Cool Guy posted:

Pushed a guy who was attacking me in front of a bus. Wham. At the time, I was so completely consumed with rage and fear that I could not speak. He was going to kill me. It was either him or me. I picked him.

It took him a few weeks to die in hospital; eventually succumbing to pneumonia. I was informed of his death by telephone. I felt nothing. Thirty years later, I still don't.

He was known to police as an extremely violent offender, and it was highly unlikely he would have stopped being a worthless and dangerous rear end in a top hat. I felt like I had provided a public service then, and I still do.

NB: I am normally an extremely friendly, easy-going individual who never uses violence. I'm kind of "zen" that way. All this goes out the window when faced with fighting for your life.

ThatPazuzu posted:

It's nice of them to call him when a stranger died. Let him know to update his kill counter. It's also really bad rear end that he's so zen that he doesn't normally kill people.

Postal Parcel posted:

I'm guessing it's to inform him that his attempted murder is now murder and the police are coming to pick him up?

Fathis Munk posted:

I didn't know buses were transmission vectors for pneumonia. Man that's scary.

EmmyOk posted:

I love stdh like that where the author wants to be a total badass but also a soulful poetic pacifist.

quote:

Happened about a decade ago. I was walking back home and these 2 kids tried to rob me. I don't necessarily know what age they were, but they were somewhat short (I live in a country in which the average person isn't very tall) and pretty scrawny. I was pretty deep into depression that had me at a point in which I didn't really care about much of anything.. and was contemplating suicide constantly, so as weird as it might be to say, I wasn't particularly scared, which is probably why he kept getting even more agitated.
Both were probably on drugs, one with the gun was yelling more and more and for some reason I reached out for his gun, in the struggle the gun fired twice, both times he got shot and died. The other one started yelling for his brother, charged me with the knife he had, I shot and kept shooting until the gun ran out.
Called the police, they couldn't pretend to care less, two junkie kids on drugs, yeah. Would probably be different in the US.
At the time the only thing that freaked me out was the fact I wasn't freaking out. I kept thinking I was some kind of monster, yet was mostly indifferent towards it.
A year later after I got on meds for my depression and it felt like it crashed on me pretty hard. Got heavily into drinking.

quote:

This is so late that I don't know if it will be seen, but I'll post anyway. Also using a throwaway because the victim is another redditor who could be identified through my normal ID.

Back in 1995 I lived in a quiet neighborhood in the SF East Bay with my wife of a few years and our 20 month old daughter. We had a small 3 bedroom two story house, and one of our second floor bedrooms doubled as my home office. One quiet Saturday morning I was in my office playing Command and Conquer on my computer with my headphones on, oblivious to the sounds of the outside world.

I'd probably been playing for an hour or so when, during one particularly quiet moment, I faintly heard my wife cry out downstairs. Knowing that she was down there with our daughter, I pulled my headphones off to see if she needed help with anything. Until the day I take my last breath, I'll never forget what I heard when I pulled them off. I heard the voice of a man, with a thick Mexican accent, shout, "Quit yelling bitch, or I'll loving cut your head off and gently caress your loving daughter!" My daughter was crying hysterically.

After that, it was like some switch was thrown in me and my higher brain just shut off. I wasn't making decisions. I just acted. I don't even remember pulling the .45 from the lockbox in my desk, I just remember walking down the stairs slowly, scared as hell that I was going to see my wife dead when I reached the bottom. Instead, when I reached the bottom, I saw my wife half naked, bent over the couch, bleeding from somewhere in her upper body, while being raped from behind by some burly guy with a knife in his hand. He wasn't TRYING to rape her, he was in the middle of the deed and was probably nearing climax.

I never said a word to the guy. Not while I was upstairs, not while I was coming down the stairs, and not when I walked into the room. His back was to me, so he had no idea I was even standing there.

He was holding his knife in his right hand, so that was the arm I grabbed with my left when I pulled him off. He spun away from her and me with a confused look on his face, and I shot him square in the chest at nearly point blank range before he had a chance to say a single word. His face went pale as he went onto one knee, and I fired twice more. One hit his neck, and the second missed entirely. I was told later that the first shot was the fatal one.

What happened next has always been a point of shame for me. The only thought going through my head at that point was that I couldn't let my daughter watch this man die. Without even checking on my wife, I scooped my daughter up and walked out my front door. As I walked out to my driveway, I saw one of my neighbors standing there staring at my house (he'd heard the gunshots). The poor guy went pale when he saw me walk out, and I vaguely remember asking him to hold my daughter while I went and checked on my wife. The neighbor asked me if I'd shot her, and I told him, "No, I shot the man who was raping her." I didn't realize at the time that I had the guys blood spray covering half my body, and that I looked like something out of a horror movie. I then handed him my daughter and my gun (I also have no idea why I gave him my gun), and went back into my house to help my wife.

[b] The police and DA gave me some flak about the exact circumstances of the shooting (one of the detectives told me that it was more of an "execution" than a "defense"), but in the end they declined to pursue any charges.[\b] The man who attacked her turned out to be a guy with serious mental issues who had been previously convicted of two violent rapes, one of which was against a 9 year old girl. Under California's then-new 3 Strikes law, he'd have gone to prison for life if I hadn't killed him.

As for recovery; I like to think that I've recovered from it, but it certainly induced a few behavioral changes. To this day, for example, I can't wear headphones that block out background noise. Even after years of counseling, over-ear and noise cancelling headphones give me panic attacks because I can't hear what's happening around me. I found out later that he'd been raping my wife for nearly 10 minutes before I heard him, and that he'd actually told my wife THREE TIMES that he was going to rape my daughter when he was finished with her. I was sitting 30 feet away and had no idea it was going on, and that fact has hosed with me for years.

My wife had a much worse time of it though. In addition to two stab wounds to her shoulder and upper arm, and the bruising and injuries from the forceful rape, she ended up having a mental break and took years to really recover. For the first 6 months, she absolutely could not be in any room by herself. For more than a year, she couldn't be in a house by herself (and she NEVER reentered the house where this happened). For several years, she'd break out in a sweat when she heard men with deep hispanic accents talking, because she'd hear his voice again. Even now, decades later, she starts shaking if you try to talk to her about it. She's fine in every other sense, but even discussing it freaks her out.

Obdicut posted:

The detail of 'nearing climax' made me nauseous. What a sick fantasy.

Judge Tesla posted:

I do so hope this didn't happen, as that's a horrible thing to experience, and even worse to make up.

walrusman posted:

The victim, who is a serial rapist that got shot to death twenty years ago, is a redditor who might be mad that I posted this. Better use a pseudonym.

jodai posted:

I thought the same thing at first. After a quick skim, I just figured out he was referring to his wife.

quote:

I got assaulted in an alley in New Orleans 20 years ago. The guy hit me in the back of the head, cut me a few times with a knife, put the knife to my throat and told me that he was going to rape and kill me. I choked him to death. Felt his windpipe crumble in my hands. I've had PTSD ever since. Constant nightmares. I see his face turn red, blue, and purple. I hear the crunch of his windpipe. I feel him struggle against me. I have scars I see every time I get out of the shower. I did what I had to do and don't regret it but killing a man with your bare hands is a lifelong struggle.

quote:

I worked construction a few years back as a side job to keep tanned and in shape. I'm 5'11 and 160 lbs. I was the smallest by a good 60 lbs. You know what that meant! I was the one always under the house. I learned enough to be dangerous and handy.

quote:

I own a BBQ catering business. I'm a carpenter and plumber. I hike, camp, and fish. I build things, fix things, kill things, and cook things over a fire. I also handmade half a dozen Mother's Day cards yesterday, wrote a love letter, sent flowers to the widow across the street, and cried at the end of Labor Day (the movie).
Your MBTI doesn't totally dictate who you are.

quote:

Having worked in Glacier National Park and having been that far out to sea - It's close but still different. Both are surreal. The High Line Trail at night, which I wouldn't advise, would be a good spot. There's other closer to Canada as well.