chitoryu12 posted:

Orlando air conditioning salesman and part-time DJ who had a ton of debt that a lot of people were trying to collect on. You can bet he didn't tell anyone he changed his number.

Zelder posted:

Parsley sage rosemary and Goku

areyoucontagious posted:

Am i parsing this right? Her boyfriend gave her another dude's number so she could maybe go out with him?

BrigadierSensible posted:

1) What man with long hair normally wears it "up"? In a topknot?

chitoryu12 posted:

I've never gotten a wrong text, just lots of wrong calls. Does anyone just type numbers into their phone to text anymore?

quote:

(Situation ended about 3 hours ago)

We had a customer earlier today who complained about his room, so we moved him to a different room. This is a common occurrence, normally it happens because of poor Wi-Fi reception in some rooms so we didn't think much of it. Well, the guy failed to take everything of his to his new room, namely his girlfriend who he left in the old room. I was not made aware of this until I did my rounds and checked in on the room - we always do this after a person switches rooms to make sure the room is fit to rent. But it's our slow season so everything follows a leisurely pace - which is a fancy way of saying I couldn't be bothered to check it any quicker because I didn't really care enough to...

Anyways, I opened the door and this lady is standing there - butt naked, screaming at me. So I panic and quickly - managing to get out a meek "Sorry, I'm the manager!" Then I realize that this room should be empty. So I knock on the door again. After a few minutes, she opens the door and starts to go absolutely apeshit on me. She goes on to say how she is in fear of her life and that I am a rapist. Now that last part strikes me a bit weird, this is not the only time this has happened - this has happened four times under different circumstances since I've started working here, "fears of rape" were cited before and I don't exactly blame them for feeling threatened by me opening a door unexpectedly - I'm a big guy, some people get scared when they see me unexpectedly...

What struck me as odd here though was she was stated it very "matter-of-factly" not with any emotion. And then comes the big reveal, she points to a video camera in the corner. She says she was recording when I burst into the room and she's going to show the video to the police and claim that I raped her. Logically, this makes no sense - but I wasn't thinking that at the time. Obviously I didn't rape her, we didn't have sex, a recording wouldn't mean a drat thing unless it was altered heavily, and (she didn't know this) but I am the absolutely most flaming of homosexuals. So I panic a bit and she adds to her rant "We can just avoid all of this if you give me $500."

And now the panic drains from me. This isn't some crazy lady who I've scared, she's just a bitch who wants money. "I don't have $500." Which is true, I loving don't have $500. She replies "Well we have a problem then."

So I go back to the office, luckily I know better than to say anything beyond this point - although the true lunacy of what she was doing hadn't dawned on me yet. In the office, I call the non-emergency line for the police and tell them I need an officer for an issue with a customer. I've got good rapport with dispatch since I've had to call them fairly often over the years, so they sent an officer straight over.

As I'm waiting for the officer, it starts to hit me how ridiculous this whole situation is. "Is this lady just crazy?" But there's still that bit of panic because ultimately the truth doesn't matter as much as the officer's interpretation of the situation, and then all the Hollywood style revenge scenarios of cop showing up - who thinks I kinda look like the guy who killed his whole family in the 1990s, sparking him to pursue a career in law enforcement to find his family's killer. I imagine him seeing the situation, dragging me off behind the building and shooting me in the head. And here I am, in the dark place of my brain wrecked with anxiety and near tears when the officer shows up.

The buzzer rings to the office. The cop is standing outside, it's a woman. A new Hollywood scenario runs through my head, of a sex-trafficked avenger lady cop - out to stick it to the menfolk who done her wrong. More anxiety... I buzz her in and explain the situation as it happened - including the camera, the demand for $500, and the rape allegation. She says "Ok well lets go talk to the lady, lead the way." I'm walking in front of her now, Hollywood scenarios are still very active in my brain - despite her seeming completely calm and reasonable.

We get to the room and the lady says I raped her, she's in loving tears while she's saying it - running mascara and puffy eyes. "Oh gently caress" my brain says, "You're SO gonna die!" Anxiety is just climbing higher and higher, doing quick breathing exercises, realizing it makes me look absolutely guilty . Then she gets to the video camera. The cop immediately asks "You have a recording, may I see it?" She shows the cop the recording of me opening the door and her screaming, but doesn't pause the video after it. Before she realizes this, the cop has taken the camera out of her hands, pulled the camera out of the lady's reach and is watching as the recording continued. Including the part where she presumably got dressed, opened the door, and proceeded to extort me.

Lady cop has this look on her face, the "Are you loving kidding me?" look... after a minute she makes this point clear by actually saying "Are you loving kidding me?" Bitch-lady has no more tears, just a shocked look on her face and she realizes that mistakes have been made. Miranda rights followed, the lady was arrested for extortion. We tried to talk to her boyfriend, but he was not in the room he was supposed to move in to (My guess is that he got a general idea of the crazy he was dealing with and bolted) Lady cop is my new hero, admittedly because she didn't go all "Kill Bill vol. 2" on me. After a quick google search on the penal code, she's likely going to face 2-8 years in prison... so that's nice. After a few cigarettes I've calmed down and am ready to finish out with double-shift with optimism. Tomorrow will be a better day, or there will be another anxiety attack, who knows?

TL:DR OP's gone 14 days without anxiety meds, gets falsely accused of rape and it all works out.

Kontradaz posted:

He desperately needs a Xanax is what I got from that block of text with 5 mentions of anxiety and breathing excercises.

yeah I eat rear end posted:

I love the stdh ones where they have to throw in the "i am real huge (read: morbidly obese)" and how everyone pisses themselves in fear at the sight of them.

Dr. Angela Ziegler posted:

Isn't there a goon night checkin worker who'se like 6'10" named Ogre or something? The poo poo might be didn't happening from inside the forums!

Dr. Angela Ziegler posted:

Isn't there a goon night checkin worker who'se like 6'10" named Ogre or something? The poo poo might be didn't happening from inside the forums!

"A Dog Tale" posted:

A few months ago my son completed his service with the United States Coast Guard. After five years at sea, he was ready to venture on dry land with a four-legged friend. He went to our local Humane Society to adopt a dog.

He came home with Maverick ~ part beagle, part border collie, pure unbridled enthusiasm. He spent every minute of the summer nurturing and training his dog, while he made decisions about his own future.

By fall, Maverick had gone from being a spastic tinkle-machine, to one of the better behaved members of the family. My son was ready to move into his own place and become a full-time student.

I don't know if it makes me less, or more, of a sucker to admit I knew I would likely be caring for Maverick while my son is in college, but it helps that I'm in love with the mutt.

A few days ago, Maverick and I were attending PetSmart's obedience school for gifted dogs. While Katrina, our patient instructor, explained to Maverick the importance of 'heel', a young couple with a baby came over to watch. Maverick promptly ignored Katrina and licked the one-year old's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He really likes kids," I said, pulling my dog closer to me.

"He sure looks like Maverick," the man slowly said to his wife.

"It is Maverick," said the woman in a disbelieving whisper.

"How do you know that?" I asked, Maverick looking at me with cocked ears and a look as confused as my own.

The woman began cuddling Maverick and crying. Her husband said, "Maverick was her dog."

The woman began rambling, more to Maverick than to me, "He was just too much...with the baby...and our jobs...I just didn't have time...our other dog is old and not so demanding...I didn't want to give him up..."

Ignoring a defensive urge to shout, "Well, too bad, he's my dog, now," I tried to say the right words to soothe her sadness, but soon realized that she was crying tears of joy.

"She's been so worried about him," her husband said. "She's been praying someone kind had adopted him."

The woman looked at me with gratitude, "Thank you for taking care of him," she said, "He looks so healthy! I'm so relieved to know he's in a good home."

We ended our conversation with a hug, forever bound by a sweet, lovable dog. It was then we realized that a small crowd of animal-lovers had congregated around us in the middle of PetSmart, smiling, shaking their heads, and dabbing their eyes. One man even applauded.

Katrina, who had been watching in silence, rubbed Maverick's head and said to him, "Dude, that was awesome!"

As if on cue from the director of some cheesy dog movie, Maverick barked. He really did.

And then he went back to learning how to heel, totally stoked that Katrina had delicious liver-flavored treats, and ridiculously happy that life is so good.

"LEARN FROM YESTERDAY. LIVE FOR TODAY. LOOK TO TOMORROW." ~ SNOOPY

Think On These Things~ Alicia

your friend a dog posted:

snoopy didnt say that poo poo you lying gently caress

psutify posted:

your friend a dog posted:

snoopy didnt say that poo poo you lying gently caress

gschmidl posted:

goose willis posted:

Some friend of a friend on Facebook posted:

The unthinkable has happened.

I am still reeling from the bizarre thing that I have done.

Madness. Utter madness.

That is...

I actually spread some Christmas cheer today.

After dropping off a DMV check at the post office, I decided I'd grab a late lunch of comfort food to cope with the sizable dent this payment would put in my already emaciated pocketbook. I was dressed as I often am: undershirt, button-up shirt over that with the sleeves rolled up, a vest over that, cargo pants, and my polo cap. My attire was a LITTLE more colorful than usual, though, with a green undershirt and bright red overshirt. Apparently, I'd unconsciously decided to be mildly festive for my short trip out.

I had my earbuds in at the time, but as soon as I noticed the activity I stealthily hit the pause button on them to listen -- without looking like I was listening. A kid ahead of me in line, maybe seven or eight, was staring at me with her head tilted and casting sidelong whispers to her mother. I didn't hear the first question, but I DID hear, "But before it was white, it was red, right? Santa's beard and hair was red."

In a flash, I remembered the old claymation Christmas movies from Rankin-Bass. Indeed, if you'd seen the one about Santa Claus' origin story, you'd think he did indeed have orange hair before going white. Then it dawned on me: I don't know how the kid rationalized it in her head, but to her, this red-shirted, red-bearded fat guy was Santa Claus, incognito.

"Sure, honey," her mom absently responded as she paid for their order. The affirmative response made the kid seem even more intent on me. She whispered something else, too quietly for me to hear this time. With the same distracted dismissiveness as before, the mom replied, "No, honey, he's at the North Pole getting ready for tonight."

The kid looked back at me again, frowning. Something about this situation wasn't adding up for her, it seemed. Mother and child sat down together, the kid still stealing glances at me.

That's when I realized... this might be the last big goof I get to pull before the turn of the new year. And I've missed a LOT of opportunities to pull a goof this year, and I might go the rest of my life not getting a setup as good as this.

I placed my order and waited by the cash register. As soon as I saw the kid looking at me again, I made like I was getting a phone call. I put my cellphone to my ear and said, in as deep and Santa-like a voice as I could muster, "Kringle here. Talk to me."

The kid's eyebrows shot up.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, letting a couple of "ho ho's" escape me as I mirthfully greeted the caller. "What's happening?" I paused for the response. "Oh, me too. Just filling up the ol' tank," I continued, giving my belly a good thump, "it'll be cookies and milk all night, but I've got to start out with some protein."

I kept the kid in the corner of my eye as I pretended to be distracted with my call. She was grinning and putting her hands over her mouth.

"Oh, I'm at the Chinese place." Pause for response. "Yes, I know that's more your thing, but YOU'VE done right by it all these years, haven't you?" Pause, then a few short O-shaped chuckles as my caller said something funny. "Yes, well, it's a big night for both of us. Hanukkah and Christmas Eve, all on the same night. We've got a lot of ground to cover tonight, Harry my man." A pause. "Right. Just having a snack, then I'm off to the reindeer stables. The missus will kill me if she knows I was out for too long."

My order arrived and I paid, mouthing a thank-you to the cashier, who had slowly caught on to what I was doing. He tried not to laugh and looked between me and the kid.

"Well thank you!" I said to my caller. "And a Happy Hanukkah to you. See you later, pal!" A few more muted ho-ho's as I pretended to hang up the phone and put it back in my pocket.

That's when I finally made eye contact with the kid. Her mother seemed roughly oblivious to my little performance, but the kid's eyes were as big around as dinner plates. I gave her the most elfin smirk I could and tapped the side of my nose, like Old Saint Nick would do before shooting up the chimney. "Be good," I said simply, and started to leave. Last I looked, the kid looked ready to explode.

I've spent years cultivating my reputation as an incorrigible and inveterate humbug. Either I've mutated slowly into a less negative person in the past couple of years, or this is the latest sign that I have finally and certifiably gone insane. Then again, it also seems I make a convincing Santa Claus when not even trying, so at least I've got that going for me. Maybe it'll finally earn me some reprieve from those three ghosts that visit me every Christmas Eve.

Also, I hope that years later that kid looks back on the moment she got lunch at the same place as Santa Claus and realizes that Hanukkah Harry called him on the phone. A sleeper joke like that is the kind of gift that keeps on giving for years to come.

Aerox posted:

Happy holidays!

quote:

Also, I hope that years later that kid looks back on the moment she got lunch at the same place as Santa Claus and realizes that Hanukkah Harry called him on the phone. A sleeper joke like that is the kind of gift that keeps on giving for years to come.

Aerox posted:

Happy holidays!

life is killing me posted:

Also to nitpick I'm not sure after one mentions wearing a button-up shirt that also throwing in undershirt is really necessary

Well I guess unless you're a goony fat dude who wears button-ups without undershirts frequently enough that saying you wore a shirt underneath your button-up shirt just this once means something

Darth Windu posted:

Only weird fat and old people wear undershirts

sweeperbravo posted:

Someone imagined that in their head, and then wrote it on the internet.

Teriyaki Hairpiece posted:

Not in reference to the last one posted, but I think there's a really quality essay that could be written that could tie minstrelsy to the current trend of internet humor about black people. At its core it's dumbass whites who have no idea how black people actually think and talk finding what they believe black people to be to be hilarious. There's a spectrum of it, too, where on one end it's racist and malicious and on the other it's clueless and racist. The good essay would also mention the black mom naming her child something stupid legend and dissect the black nerd idea.

Khazar-khum posted:

"We loved our puppy so much we threw him away!"