We all know the feeling when we’ve messed up badly. We would rather the Earth swallow us up and make us disappear forever than continue on living our mortifying existence. Still, not all mistakes are created equal, and these screw-ups are especially embarrassing. But don’t take my word for it—keep reading to find out.

1. That’s On Me

Living with a 15-year-old boy is an interesting experience, to say the least. My husband and I have become all too familiar with a particularly chaotic routine that involves quite a bit of knocking, sudden laptop screen closing, a mad scramble, followed by a casual "Okay." We've also made a habit of silently restocking his room with tissues almost every day. Not to mention, directing the younger kids to the bathroom downstairs while they're left wondering why their older sibling takes such prolonged showers.

Let's not forget about the curious instance of finding tightly rolled up sheets or towels in the laundry basket, distinctly marked with a sticky note saying "wash separately". Yet, one thing caught us entirely off guard. As soon as the house was empty, the living room would suddenly become an open playing field. This came to my notice one day when I forgot my phone and decided to walk back home as parking in our peculiarly designed driveway would've taken longer.

Within seconds of arriving back home, I unlocked and opened the front door, a choice I later regretted. How naive of me to think that I could simply return and freely enter my own home? What was I thinking? I should’ve knocked or even made a loud noise with my keys before unlocking the door. Maybe even don a cowbell!

Anything would've been better than what I ended up witnessing—my precious son, my little boy, the apple of my eye engaging in some rather intimate actions with the couch through a carefully positioned towel. And I was left asking myself, why?

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2. Cut And Run

My boyfriend and I were on a road trip last summer, driving our little Honda Element conversion from New Mexico to Mexico. We'd swap seats when needed, with one of us taking a nap in the back while the other drove. During one of these swaps, we stopped at a gas station in the Arizona desert. He was pumping gas, and I decided to stretch my legs and use the restroom.

Coming out of the bathroom, I couldn't find him. I playfully thought maybe he'd driven off by accident, not realizing I'd gone to the restroom. Dismissing the thought, I started twiddling my thumbs, waiting for him. But as the minutes stretched out, it started looking like my far-fetched theory might just be right.

My phone, of course, was still in the car. I tried to borrow one from the gas station cashier, but she insisted they didn't have one. Clearly false, but what could I do? So I started asking patrons for a favor. I guess my random appearance was too off-putting, and we were in an isolated location. People seemed wary, like I was going to make off with their phones.

So my quest for a phone to borrow continued. I realized I didn't even know my boyfriend's number. So, all I did was call my phone with others', hoping he'd pick it up. But he didn't. I even used one kind soul's phone to log onto my Facebook, find his number, and dial him—but turns out his phone was dead.

Through all this, I was giving folks my sad tale. Some didn't believe me, others empathized. One good Samaritan even offered to pay for a hotel room for me, thinking my boyfriend had ditched me intentionally.

I'd been there for over two hours by now. The store clerks were giving me suspicious looks, and I was feeling helpless while I sat outside on the bench, in the middle of the desert, completely lost. Then, a patrol car rolled up. The officer, called by the suspicious store clerks, was kind but perplexed, like everyone else.

She offered to drop me at a truck rest stop in the next town or the station. Despite her doubts about my story, I picked the rest stop. But great news was around the corner. As we drove to the rest stop, a call came through her radio—another officer was at the same gas station with a frantic guy looking for his girlfriend.

We both laughed at the irony of the situation as she turned the car around. Back at the station, my boyfriend was waiting anxiously, banging on the car windows, almost crying. He explained that he'd taken off, spotted a fantastic view, and turned to wake me—only to find the back seat empty. He'd hurried back to the station, faster than ever, freaking out when my phone kept ringing and strangers started calling.

He was sure he'd messed up big time, wrecked our trip and probably our relationship too.

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3. Fun Gone Wrong

Today, I goofed up channeling my inner Jim from The Office, pulling a prank on my colleagues. I thought it would be a riot to hide a Bluetooth speaker in the ceiling and play a loop of cat sounds from it. I found a video on YouTube of cats meowing non-stop for eight hours. I linked an old phone to the speaker, stashed the phone in a drawer of an unused desk, and nestled the speaker under a ceiling tile.

It worked flawlessly. The cat sounds were subtle enough that you had to strain to hear them. It seemed like a cat was stuck in the ceiling, but the source was hard to pinpoint. Buried in my work in my office, I put the prank out of my mind until my break. Walking into the break room, I overheard several people speculating about a cat in the ventilation system.

As I casually sipped my coffee, I decided to swing by the accounting department to see if the cat rumors were spreading. The sight I met, though, made my heart sink. To my horror, numerous ceiling tiles were removed and two maintenance workers were on ladders, desperately searching for the alleged cat. They were very close to the hidden speaker, but hadn't found it yet.

Panicked, I quickly slipped away and returned to my work. Ultimately, they discovered the speaker. Shortly after, our boss sent a company-wide email condemning the prank and asking for any leads on the prankster. By day’s end, a juicy conspiracy theory had taken root: some colleagues don't believe it was a prank at all.

They suspect the maintenance folks lied about finding a speaker and that management made up the story to get everyone back to work. They even think maintenance is plotting to lay traps and poison to kill the imaginary cat. One coworker is convinced they heard the cat the previous day, and believe it or not, a few of them swear they still hear it. I have to admit, I messed this one up.

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4. Wormageddon

This mess has been brewing into a perfect storm, wreaking havoc on my life for months. Here's a long but necessary account of one of the worst weeks I ever lived through. Let me start by saying, I adore my cat more than anything, even though he's avoiding sleeping with me, my love for him remains cautious yet intense.

I love him to the point where it landed me here today. I adopted a sturdy 11-year-old, 19-pounder in January, and I was smitten instantly. His previous family handed him back after six months, ridden with fleas. They de-flea’d him, but he came home with a handful of other health concerns. Being an old cat, I expected it would be challenging, but I didn't anticipate how daunting it could get. Still, I tell him I love him every night, and we're about to prove it. It's like a test of love that started in early February when he began coughing and ignoring his litter box, even though I clean it daily.

Despite the circumstances, he's still peeing there, albeit anxiously. His medical records showed a history of litter box issues, but things didn't add up. His health was improving, but there was a big concern—he is undeniably cute, but his size wasn't healthy.

So, I implemented a diet change from free-feeding to scheduled meals and playtime aimed at getting him in shape. Then, February brought our sixth vet visit. This time for his cough and constipation. The vet suggestions alluded to allergies and possible behavioral issues but insisted I should visit again if symptoms deteriorated.

Persisting on my cleaning schedule and still finding his health fluctuating, eventually, I began feeling unwell. Then, worm surprise! My cat was pooping worms on the wooden floor, but that was only the beginning. I found eggs on my bed, so I quickly took action. Letters to the vet, disposing of my bedding, in-depth cleaning, medicating the cat, all endeavoring to handle an issue I'd overlooked.

But the worst was yet to come. I recognized worm signs in my health status and now had to get medical attention. It led to a tapeworm prescription, the same medication as my cat, quite high-priced, but these worms had to go. This situation, forced onto my couch, under a failing heater, with worms likely inside me, is not something one sleeps through lightly.

I got a knock-back the next morning when I discovered cat poop in the bathtub. Then, my allergies decided it wants to play too. Next came facial swelling due to an adverse reaction to the medication. I quickly reached out to the doctor who advised I get Benadryl and he penned me a steroid prescription. My luck! Another hefty charge for a virtual doctor visit. At least the pharmacist showed sympathy for my complications.

I found comfort in some candy, a 12-pack and a crushing medication bill. Despite my ordeal, I'm thankful my cat is bouncing back. I'm scarred from these events and it will take a while before we snuggle up again, but my love for my cat hasn't wavered.

Moral of the story: don't let this saga deter you from adopting senior pets. Even though I got worms, I would do it all over again for my fur baby. We won't forget Wormageddon 2020 anytime soon.

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5. Fancy Seeing You Here

This morning, I was feeling a bit adventurous and was keen on spending some time with a local guy. I got chatting with this older chap, around late 30s-mid 40s, who boasted a fit physique, so I decided to invite him to my hotel room. We spent 45 minutes to an hour indulging in some fun distractions, and I assumed our paths would never cross again, given that I'm flying back home this afternoon.

Oh boy, was I in for a surprise. I headed to the departure gate when they announced boarding time. Guess who was already boarding with their family? Yep, bingo! To add fuel to the fire, their seats were only a couple of rows away from me, and I could catch snippets of their family banter. Currently, I'm on the plane, and he's firing up my inbox. I've been taking screenshots of the messages thoughtfully, just for any unforeseen situations in the future.

I'm sat here, slightly agitated and questioning how he managed to sneak away from his family for so long... The realization is hitting me only now that he'd been lodged in the same hotel as me, which explains his swift arrival in my room. I'm caught in a rather uncomfortable position.

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6. All In Good Fun

So, my husband and I have a playful side in our private life. Our Wednesday evening got quite lively when he used these hefty leather restraints, but forgot about my Apple Watch. Unexpectedly, I found out that holding down the watch dial automatically calls emergency services. He's going about his business, and I'm tugging at my bindings, accidentally triggering the emergency call.

Suddenly, my watch starts speaking, "Ma'am, it seems there's some loud noises and shouting. We're dispatching help to your location. Stay put." My husband bewildered, asks, "Did you dial 9-1-1?" He tells me to assure them it was just a mix up. So I explain it to the dispatcher, affirming my identity when asked.

She then tells me, "We have your address in our records and are sending help right away. We can hear a man instructing you, and to us, it sounds suspicious. We are required to ensure your safety." I thanked her and ended the call, not looking forward to the imminent visit from the police.

Within moments, there was a firm knock on the door. Quickly we get dressed and answer. The officer takes my husband aside while I stay to explain the unexpected call, opting not to mention specific details. Unfortunately, it seems my husband was a bit more candid.

A second officer enquires about our agreement contract which we use to ensure mutual consent. Flustered, I found and presented our agreement. The following few moments were excruciating as I clarified the night's events, assuring them it was all in consensual fun. Eventually, they were satisfied, leaving us with some advice on disabling the watch's emergency call function during such occasions,

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7. Loyal To The Bone

Over the weekend, I attended my best friend's wedding. She's diabetic, and in the chaos of pre-wedding arrangements, she forgot her insulin at home. So it was me against diabetes, and I became the insulin-retriever.
After the morning's excitement, I enjoyed having a task to tackle.

According to my friend, her house's back door would be easy access but, to my dismay, it was locked. But giving up wasn't an option. I remembered when we were teens; we often used a certain window to sneak out.

However, this time, I was all dolled up in a tight, fishtail wedding gown. Operating a manual car in this getup was tough, let alone climbing a tree! Despite the cold weather, I shed off my extra layers willing to face the frigid temperatures.

I was conscious that the elderly neighbors were possibly watching, but I forged ahead anyway. With my clothes tossed over onto the fence, I managed to clamber up the tree, like a sloth-turned-ninja. The window was thankfully unlocked.

I found myself in the bride's riotous room, littered with beauty products and clothes. The room closely mirrored the chaos inside my head. However, the insulin wasn't where it was supposed to be. My heart sank.

Nevertheless, after a frantic search, I found the life-saving drug in the kitchen. A wave relief washed over me. With the insulin safely in my hands, I locked up and made my exit.

Just then, two police officers pulled up in the driveway. The sight triggered a flurry of nerve-wracking images – getting arrested and appearing in court.

In my panic, my narrative tumbled out in a rush, explaining my reason for being undressed, and seemingly trespassing. Their attempts to maintain composure failed when I suddenly burst into laughter; An uncontrollable, soul-cleansing laughter, that resulted in me gasping for breath.

I was allowed to dress up, and despite the cold, the officers patiently waited for confirmation of my tale. After several unanswered calls, my soon-to-be husband successfully resolved the misunderstanding.

When I returned to the wedding venue, I couldn’t help but share the whole shenanigan with him, laughing off the residual embarrassment. In our upcoming wedding, maybe I'll ask her to return the favor; a daring tree-climbing act, for sure!

Word of my adventure spread like wildfire in the small town. My elder brother, who knows one of the younger officers, will never let me live it down.

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8. Flipping The Switch

I've been calling this house home for over a decade now. In my room, there's a ceiling fan that's constantly on, revolving to cool down my inexplicably hot room. I've always wondered why it's so toasty compared to the other rooms. Fast forward to today, as I'm chatting with a buddy who just found out that their fan could reverse directions to warm their room during winter. Suddenly, their revelation hit me hard.

Once I was back home, I took a second glance at my fan, and there, discreetly placed by the light was a small, black switch. As soon as I flipped it, my room's temperature dropped almost instantly by a noticeable 10 degrees. For the last 11 long years, I've basically been sleeping in a makeshift sauna, unknowingly. The reason behind my sweaty summer morning awakenings was this tiny switch all along.

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9. Double Life Exposed

So, this happened roughly thirty minutes ago, and honestly, there might still be consequences to face. Right now, I'm working at a call center to pay my bills. It's not my dream job, but it’s decent, the people are good, and the work isn’t too complicated. Mainly, we aid individuals who want better deals on their household utilities, typically internet services or gas/electricity suppliers, and the likes.

We have on-ground sales agents who clinch deals, then connect with us for the customer's confirmation. Quite simple, isn’t it? Not quite today. See, it's typically against our policy to call back unless requested by the customer. No one enjoys the pesky interruptions of call-center calls, right? Unless specifically asked for a scheduled callback, we avoid making one.

A couple of days back, a customer sought a pricey internet upgrade, moving from a basic pack to an extensive TV/Phone/Internet bundle. It includes all channels, any-time international calls, and 500+ mbps wifi, costing over £100 monthly. I informed the customer, who sounded quite irritated, about a necessary credit check due to the higher price, which would extend the call’s duration.

Upon hearing this, he expressed his frustration about being too occupied to "[...] waste all afternoon on the phone to some call-centre" and suggested I call him post-weekend to proceed. This is nothing new; many people lose interest when they learn that the call extends beyond a minute.

Despite this, I scheduled a callback and inquired about a preferred time. He responded that any time was fine and added, "If Emily answers, just ask her for me, she'll make sure I get the phone" and provided a home phone number. Fast forward to today, and I committed a monumental mistake. The application he had filled already had his home number.

However, it wasn't the number he'd provided for today's callback. I dialed the number I thought was right, a lady answered. Unconsciously, I said, "Oh hi, I'm calling for Steve to confirm his broadband switch, we spoke the other day? I assume you're Emily!" An awkward pause followed. She replied, "This is Steve's wife, Amanda. Why would you think I 'must' be Emily?"

I apologized and explained, "I'm sorry, Steve had said that if Emily picked up, I should ask for him." She retorted, "I knew it, I freaking KNEW IT" and abruptly ended the call. After cross-verification, I realized the blunder: Steve had shared a different number for today’s callback, yet I had called his oblivious wife at home.

I am yet to receive any complaints at work, but if I do, I suspect they'll be irate.

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10. Aw, Bloody Heck

Just in case you're not familiar, a menstrual cup is a flexible little device made of medical-grade silicone that you place inside 'down there' and it can stay put for up to half a day. It accumulates a good amount of menstrual fluid, which is key in this narrative. Picture me at 5 am this morning, feeling the urge to head to the bathroom.

I noticed a bit of leakage and realized it was time to empty out my cup. Usually, this isn't an issue, but apparently I had a heavier flow than normal during the night. Bleary-eyed, bathed in darkness, I removed my cup and dumped it into the toilet bowl. It was more awkward and messier than expected, given the unusual amount of blood.

Afterwards, I put the used cup in the sink, planning to clean up everything, when my boyfriend decides to poke his head in to check why I was awake. From his viewpoint, he saw blood smeared on my hands and in the sink. All of this was dimly illuminated by the light from my phone—it must've appeared like a scene from a horror movie.

The sight made him lose consciousness right there in the doorway. In a panic, I rushed to his side, only to abruptly realize that my blood-covered hands were now staining him and the bathroom floor. When he came to, he was freaked out, clueless as to why there was blood everywhere. Once I explained the situation, it left him in a state of shocked silence and me with the unenviable task of tackling a literal bloodbath, all before dawn.

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11. For Your Eyes Only

I work as a teller at one of the biggest banks in the United States, which is definitely the highest-paying position I've landed since graduating from high school. One day, an old gentleman walked in, pretty frazzled, asking why his debit card was constantly declining. When I reviewed his account history, I was startled to see a multitude of online transactions.

Believe it or not, all of these purchases were towards a webcam site. It looked like he had subscribed to numerous pages. And here's the interesting part: all these transactions occurred right after his salary was credited, indicating that he had been splurging all his hard-earned money on these subscriptions. On seeing the account history, I had to fake a cough to suppress a laugh.

I then inquired if he used online banking or had a chance to review his account activity lately, to which he replied negatively. I offered to provide a printout of his account activity and his response was just a quiet "yes please". His quiet 'ahhh' when I handed him the print-out nearly made me burst into laughter, but I masked it and maintained professionalism. I then confirmed if he was the one who made these purchases, and with a downcast expression, he admitted to it.

At this, I couldn't help but titter. His baffled expression before leaving the bank was priceless. I had to retreat to the restroom to laugh my worries away. It seems he made a complaint because after returning from my lunch break, my manager summoned me to his office. Now, I have an HR meeting scheduled for tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I'm in hot water...

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12. Testing The Waters

I'm currently in my second year of medical school. We had quite an interesting experience during our urine lab today. The professor thought it might be a good idea for us all to bring our own urine for testing, so we each had our own little sample container at our workstations and we were running various tests up at the front.

Once I had finished my tests and jotted down my results, I thought I could lighten the mood a bit. I should have just left things alone.

For some reason, there was a bundle of pregnancy test strips lying around. Honestly, I've got no clue why they were there, but I saw them and figured... why not? So, I picked up a strip, started reading the instructions, and next thing you know, everyone has caught on. Without any real thought, the whole class—all 15 of us—dipped a strip into our urine samples on a whim.

Not surprisingly, almost every test came up negative. Except for one. The look of terror on this one girl's face was something else. She was absolutely shocked. Without hesitating, she tested again using a new strip. Still positive. Clearly distressed, she suddenly bolted from the lab. The rest of us were left trying to make sense of the scene unfolding before us. What a wild day.

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13. A Web Of Lies

This happened quite some time ago, but it only finally caught up with me just a few weeks back. Almost a year ago, I moved to a new place, a provisional kind of arrangement until I could secure a more permanent living situation. I was hoping to have left by now. The second day in the new digs, after unboxing everything, I thought a perfect housewarming would be a good old acid trip.

I had recently purchased some and decided to give it a whirl in the new space. The trip was going fine, until it wasn't—it became way too intense way too quickly. The potency of the tabs was more than I was led to believe and I had a feeling the unfamiliar surroundings were not helping my tension.

I thought a walk around the block would help me relax, since at this point, I was feeling pretty overwhelmed. Just as I was leaving, my next-door neighbor was arriving. The houses here are close together, so her doorway is barely a meter away from mine.

Not knowing anyone in the neighborhood yet, I wasn't aware this was a tightly-knit, friendly community where chit-chat is common. She greeted me with a "Hello, nice to meet you... are you new around here?" Now, sometimes when I'm approached by street vendors, I pretend not to speak English.

I decided to employ this tactic now, despite my altered state of mind, because a complex conversation seemed overwhelming at the time. I remembered a few French phrases from school, and I blurted: “je voudrais une boulangerie” with a slight shrug and a weak grin, my go-to line.

She took the hint, let me be and I continued on my walk. When I got back two hours later, having taken longer than expected due to my tripping state, she was talking to another neighbor. As I tried to avoid human contact, she kindly greeted me with a "bonjour".

Caught off guard, I reciprocated the greeting before hurriedly getting myself inside. Instantly, panic set in. I had now inadvertently adopted a French identity, and two neighbors thought I couldn’t speak English. The next morning, hungover and humiliated, I resolved to keep up the pretense and live out the awkward lie.

Fast forward 10 months, my life was a tangled web of lies. Like a method actor, I fine-tuned my French accent and started learning English as my French self, maintaining decent albeit disjointed conversations. I became quite well-known and was the friendly French bloke next door.

I never broke character because, with each passing day, the revelation of my true self would be far more disastrous. I warned friends to keep mum about the situation, which they found somewhat humorous.

Things were going smoothly, and I thought I was in the clear playing French me, who, strangely, had better social skills than the real me. That was until I met a real Frenchman. While heading to my car, a neighbor introduced me to him, and he asked a question in French. I couldn't figure out what he was saying, and I stood frozen before eventually admitting my lie.

I tried to shake it off as a comical hoax, but they didn't buy it. I rushed to my car and let the shame wash over me. Since then, I avoid my neighbors to escape further embarrassment and fear the day they discovered my lie. I have to leave this place.

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14. Can’t Wash This One Away

So, I messed up big time yesterday. Just to clue you in, my dad got hired for an IT gig at the same college I study at, about two years ago. During working there, he became buddies with other IT guys. They all hang out in this music appreciation club—some of my lecturers are members, even one I'm pretty fond of. Hard to believe, right?

Nowadays, their meetings happen online through video calls, and this is where the comedy of errors started. My dad uses our communal computer to join these calls, which just so happens to be located in the living room. My bedroom is right near the living room so if my door's open, I can directly see the computer from the threshold of my door. I was chilling in my room, headphones on, engrossed in a Netflix binge.

Suddenly, I accidentally smudged my white shirt with salsa. For a shot at salvaging the shirt, a quick wash was necessary. So I hopped off my bed and shrugged off my shirt. And, um, yeah, I wasn't wearing a bra underneath. I still wonder why I had to undress in my room. A perfect storm brewed: 1. I was oblivious that my dad was on a video call,

2. My dad had vacated the living room to use the restroom, and 3. The video camera on the living room's family computer had a clear view of me. Oblivious to it all, I headed to the laundry room to scrub off the sauce. Basically, I was strolling around topless and didn't give it a second thought. After fixing my shirt, I decided to grab a soda from the kitchen.

The kitchen has a direct view from the living room, and consequently the family computer's camera. As I was heading to the kitchen, I suddenly heard a familiar voice behind me, "Uhmmm?” It was my lecturer's voice on the video call. The realization made me freeze in my tracks with shock.

Overwhelmed, I immediately dropped to the floor. With my back against the kitchen island, hugging my knees to my chest, I was trapped. There was no way to my room without passing the camera. Thankfully, my dad returned at this point to save the day.

The following exchange took place. Teacher: "Hey, I think your daughter might be hiding, might be a good idea to hang up so she can get back to her room". Dad: "Are you there?" (since my position blocked his view). Me: “…...yes." Dad: "Should I even ask what happened?" Me: "No." Dad: "Do I need to disconnect the call?" Me: "Yes...maybe close your eyes too, until I tell you it's okay?"

Baffled, my Dad said "Alright?" He went on to turn off his camera, telling me it was clear to move. I then fled to my room, shut the door, and immediately dressed. Once safe, I called out for my dad. Soon after, I could hear him laughing with the others on the call. We haven't talked about it yet. For my own sanity, I'm checking out now, thank you.

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15. A Vegas Bride

So, here's a funny story from a few hours back. I popped the question to my girlfriend not long ago. Unfortunately, due to my job, we need to relocate soon and holding a proper wedding before that isn't practical. I finished work a bit early today and when I got home, my fiancé suggested we head out and get some documents notarized for the small courthouse wedding we'd planned for a month or two from now.

We took the form we'd printed from the county website and drove to the nearest UPS. The notary confirmed our identities, we signed, she signed, she stamped the form, and wished us a warm "congratulations." Great, all that's left now is for us to head to the courthouse whenever we're ready to officially tie the knot. My fiancé called the courthouse afterwards just to double-check whether we needed to bring anything else along.

After referring to me as her boyfriend, the woman on the line corrected her, saying, she meant "husband." She then explained to my fiancé that our state had done away with the need for a formal courthouse ceremony. As it turns out, that form we just signed was the actual marriage certificate itself, and we were technically already married. Who knew that! Anyhow, we celebrated the unexpected twist by having a honeymoon picnic at a park near a lake. So, I guess I'm a married man now?

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16. Hot For Teacher

So, this is a tale from several years ago, a memory that still makes me cringe when I recall it. Back in my freshman year at college, I had this massive crush on one of my professors, who was quite an ordinary, middle-aged man. My fascination with him went to the extent where I followed him online, including on LinkedIn. I even created a profile just to keep tabs on him.

I would do this frequently. It was a bit weird, I admit—and it led to even weirder circumstances. A few years later, when I dove into the professional world and began to use LinkedIn more seriously, I discovered that users receive notifications every time their profile is viewed. My professor used to give me strange glances whenever we crossed paths on campus. I found myself freaking out, thinking he must surely know about my secret fantasy that involved him and his office desk.

But then, I would reassure myself, thinking it was entirely impossible for him to know. But he must have thought—hey, that's the odd girl who used to check out my LinkedIn profile every day. Even at my graduation, he noticed me and gave me a pointed look. He must have known.

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17. Your Own Worst Enemy

My boyfriend has quite a bit of an insecurity issue about his appeal. It's not so much about his appearance, but he considers himself an average Joe at best, scoring a 5 out of 10. Despite my repeated compliments about how dashing he is, my words never truly sank in. So, I brainstormed an unconventional plan to demonstrate his attractiveness. Oddly enough, I opted for creating a Tinder account for him.

I put together his profile, wrote a catchy bio, and began the swipe fest. Within day one, he had gathered about a dozen matches. He seemed genuinely uplifted when I shared this with him, grateful for the ego-boosting experience. You can imagine my astonishment when, after a few days, I revisited the Tinder account (which I'd essentially left inactive after the first day) and noticed a flood of chat exchanges with his matches.

I approached him about it but was met with denial. These weren't just casual chats; he was even planning meetups with these women. It led us to break up, obviously. Out of sheer curiosity, I checked back on his Tinder profile after a week and the breakup hadn't slowed his activity at all. The account I unintentionally made ended up facilitating his transition into the single life. What a shocker, I completely sabotaged my relationship.

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18. Blue In The Face

Around six years ago, I experienced something so embarrassing that it was buried deep in my memory, only resurfacing during a chat with my wife. She'd casually asked me about my most awkward moment, and that's when this story came flooding back. It all started at a work party; my then girlfriend (not the one I'm married to now) agreed to be my designated driver, knowing I'd probably let loose and have a few drinks.

True to her prediction, I was pretty tipsy on our drive home. I asked her to halt at a gas station. So here we are, she parks her light blue Jeep, I clumsily get out and quickly finish my purchase at the station. Enthusiastically, I wrench open the passenger door of a blue Jeep, slouch onto the seat, and blurt out to my girlfriend: "I can't wait to go home and make love". What happened next caught me completely off guard—a punch in the face!

Added to this, there was high-pitched screaming that had me covering my face. I was baffled, as our conversations often included such flirtatious remarks. The petrified scream made it hard for me to decipher what was being said.

I pieced it together around the third or fourth punch when I heard, loud and clear, “Get the heck out of my Jeep!” Suddenly, I sobered up. As I lowered my hands and took a look around, the realization hit me—I was definitely in a blue Jeep, but not my girlfriend's. It turned out that this frightened woman's identical Jeep was parked right next to my girlfriend’s, effectively concealing it from my view.

I stumbled out and rushed to my girlfriend's Jeep to explain the mix-up. She managed to pacify the woman, convincing her not to report the misunderstanding to the police. Long story short, I didn't share a bed with anyone that night.

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19. Work Smart, Not Hard

A few years back, I was pretty good at my job and managed to complete reports quicker than my coworkers. Our jobs involved writing similar reports with the same types of calculations. I streamlined the process by using Excel to run calculations and automate certain sentences, then transferred these to Word.

Here's the kicker: What took my coworkers eight hours, I finished in two.

So, I started working just a couple and a half hours each day, leaving me free to pursue hobbies like watching YouTube, day trading, and reading investment books—or just indulging in random memes. My life was pretty great.

Then, one coworker developed romantic feelings for me. I was single and figured, "Why not give it a shot?"

We got along well. She was a gem—intelligent, yet as laid back as I was in our work style. She wasn't bothered by her behind-the-pack performance, so I thought I'd help her out and show her my work shortcuts. She seemed uninterested at the time.

Eventually, we broke up. The feelings weren't mutual, and I thought it'd be kindest to end things sooner rather than later. I didn't return her declaration of love. The breakup seemed amicable at first, until I was summoned to Human Resources two days later.

The shocker: HR had screenshots of memes I viewed, my trading activities, news articles I'd read, YouTube history, and even a tally of the actual hours I'd worked. Turns out, my ex had shared my screen via Skype when I was on break, recorded my activities, and tipped off HR.

In hindsight, I should've been more diligent about working designated hours, not tried to impress my ex with my 'efficiency', and have been more aware of my screen sharing.

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20. Keep It In The Family

So, I've got this uncle who never misses an opportunity to openly criticize my sexuality. Every family get-together, he has some snide remark about homosexuality in general or me in particular. This past weekend, in the midst of different family events, I had some free time and thought it might be nice to meet someone. So I started a conversation with this older guy, which is pretty much my style.

Lots of mature guys prefer to stay anonymous because they're not out yet, so I didn't think much of it when he chose not to show me his face. We clicked almost instantly and, despite a handful of photos exchanged that I rather wish could be unseen or unsent, we planned to catch up in person... you know where this is heading. So there I am, at the local coffee shop waiting...and guess who strolls in.

That's when it hit me. The guy I had been sparking up a rapport with was none other than my very own uncle, the same one who's never been shy about expressing his displeasure about my lifestyle. He tried to brush it off as a coincidental run-in, but I wasn't about to let that slide. After a bit of insistence, he confessed he was the same man I'd been conversing with, and I assured him I hold no prejudice towards him as he did towards me. He even apologized for the years of hurtful comments he'd made. Yet, things took a nosedive pretty quickly.

He kept acting as if he was still keen on hanging out with me, and I had to make it abundantly clear this was completely off the table. I ended up leaving the café and after several texts from him, I found myself having to block his number. It's staggering to think that this man, who has been so judgmental towards me and treated me like a lesser being all these years, turns out to be not just a total fraud but a downright creep. Moral of the story: Always ask for a face picture, folks.

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21. I Take It All Back

Last Thursday evening, I saw folks on social media tagging their stepfathers on a Budweiser commercial. I forwarded it to my stepdad without even watching the content first. Approximately an hour after, I receive a call from my mom and stepdad questioning if I'm trying to convey a certain message. My stepdad suggests that there's a purpose behind me sending the video. I was totally confused! Then, the realization struck. IN THE ADVERTISEMENT, THE GROWN UP CHILDREN ARE PROPOSING THEIR STEPDADS TO ADOPT THEM.

My stepdad becomes emotional, assuming that I'm hinting towards this. It's impossible for me now to admit that I didn't intend any hidden message. The following day, he gives me a bear hug and expresses his wish for me to adopt his surname and legally become his daughter. In my head, I'm thinking, this is going to be a major ordeal. But, I can never acknowledge it was an honest mistake that led to this. Hence, here I am, on the path to adoption and soon-to-be name change. Can you believe it? I'm 31 years old!

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22. The Vampire’s Kiss

Earlier today, I wanted to surprise my lady with a bed-side proposal. Sure, it's not the most creative or whimsical idea, but it felt right. I initially wanted to ask her over dinner last night, but nerves got the best of me. But today, I woke up ready to get it done.

There I stood, down on one knee by my girlfriend's side of the bed, patiently waiting for her to wake up and see me, ring in hand. When I tried to gently wake her, she grumbled and rolled over, leaving me to stare at the back of her head. My heart was pounding so loud, I could hear it. I then leaned over and timidly tapped her on the shoulder.

But instead of rousing like one typically does, she emitted a hiss in her sleep that resembled that of a vampire, before accidentally elbowing me right in the nose. Thrown off balance, I lost grip of the ring. The noise woke her up, and the first thing she laid her eyes on was me, clutching my bleeding nose. I won't deny it, when she ran to check on me, I jumped a bit. Her hissing act had truly spooked me.

Once the excitement died down, I was able to find the ring without her noticing. And just an update, my nose is still throbbing. Tonight, I'm going for it again. But this time, I'll ensure I propose when she's absolutely awake and in total control of her human faculties.

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23. It’s A Wash

I want to make it crystal clear that I'm in no way mocking or minimizing the seriousness of suicide. This isn't a distasteful prank or a deliberate act, rather, it's an unlucky outcome of regular, harmless actions that inadvertently scared and upset my wife. This happened a few weeks back when I sprained my ankle in a stumble.

My sprained ankle has been quite a nuisance, provoking me to take Epsom salt baths after work. Not only do they help with the sprain and swelling, but they also offer soothing relaxation. You may joke about a grown man bathing, but I appreciate a good soak. Plus, I have angiokeratoma—an enlargement of blood vessels that causes relatively unattractive dark spots in delicate regions.

I label them 'old man spots'. They're innocuous, and I usually don't even recognize their existence, except for the times when I accidentally irritate one, which leads to copious bleeding. And stopping the blood flow, let me tell you, takes a good while! Elevating, or placing band-aids on, that region is no easy task. One day, I receive a text from my wife mentioning she'll be working late.

So, I arrive home ready to pamper my ankle and have some alone time. The detailed procedure of how I ended up scratching one of these spots isn't important. After a reasonable amount of swearing, I dedicate myself to the routine of applying toilet paper and inspecting occasionally to see if the bleeding has ceased. It's like dealing with a very fresh scab, needing utmost caution not to restart the bleeding.

Finally, it looked like the bleeding had stopped, giving me a window to enjoy my bath. I put on my headphones, shut my eyes, and decompressed. I was in a trance-like state, feeling serene...until my wife's horrified screams brought me out of it. That scream was chilling, the likes of which I had never heard before. It gave me a fright, jolting awake and almost catapulting me out of the tub.

In a loud voice, I asked "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" But she couldn't answer me. She was weeping on the ground. Once I fully grasped what had frightened her, I exclaimed “Oh my Lord!” The sight she walked into—me with my eyes shut, hunched over in a bath full of blood-tinted water—must have been terrifying.

It took what seemed like forever to assure her it was not as horrible as she thought. Yet, even then, it's not something that easily fades from memory. I hope we'll be able to laugh about this someday, but that's a long way off.

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24. Not Like In The Movies

This all dates back two years ago to this very day—but bear with me, it'll make sense soon. In 2016, following a tough breakup, I decided to give Tinder a shot. I'd connected with a handful of people, though nothing substantial really came from it beyond some casual flings. 

My profile was cheeky, something along the "bring me home to your parents to make them question your life choices" and mainly showcased photos of me and my dog. Fast forward to March 2017, and I matched with a girl. After some initial small talk that didn’t lead anywhere, we ended up deep in conversation one evening, messaging until sunrise. We decided to meet a few days later and I was invited over to her place for dinner.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, except for two minor issues. Firstly, I have a beard, or what I consider to be a beard, in all of my pictures. In reality, it looked as if someone had shaved a guinea pig and stuck it onto my face—it wasn’t the best look. 

For about six years, I maintained a fairly short length, which made it appear full and denser than it actually was. However, a week before we began talking, I had impulsively decided to see what I looked like clean-shaven. The result? Not impressive. At 27, I normally looked younger than my age, but without the beard I resembled a tatted up 12-year-old with a severe case of insomnia. Yet, this didn't seem to bother her and everything was going just fine.

The evening I showed up to her house, we had a blast. She cooked an amazing meal, we watched movies, and even ended up cuddling by the third one. But here's where the second issue surfaced. Following my 2016 breakup and dealing with lifelong depression, I'd started using antidepressants which made climaxing nearly impossible. This resulted in two hours of the most awkward intimacy either of us had ever experienced. After exhaustion took its toll and a lot of awkward maneuvering between us, we finally threw in the towel.

To top off our less-than-romantic experience, her recently moved back in mom made an unexpected appearance while we were outside attempting to cool off from our sweaty ordeal. Yet, despite meeting me while I was only half-dressed and still damp, her mom nonchalantly steered the conversation towards her latest Tinder match, an alleged oil tycoon. 

But here's the twist—two years later, we’re celebrating our anniversary and planning our wedding for the same date next year. Looking back, our love life has significantly improved and we often laugh about that night, wondering why we ever decided to stick together. But I guess desperation found a way, and we're incredibly glad it did.

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25. Full Of Hot Air

About a year ago, I had an unforgettable and distressing incident involving some unsuspecting victims who suffered immensely. It unfolded during a 10-hour car journey through British Columbia's heartland, with my two cousins and uncle as travel companions. On the eve of our early morning departure, I had devoured a full 8-pack of Fiber One chocolate chip granola bars, each of which contains about 75% of the daily recommended fiber dose.

They were so delectable that I couldn't help myself. I woke up later with a bloated belly, which didn't bother me too much. Barely an hour into our journey, stomach cramps began. My belly started ballooning to the extent that I needed to unbuckle my seatbelt and open my jeans to relieve the pressure.

My cousin was in shock, comparing my situation to an episode from Willy Wonka involving an inflated blueberry. Unable to suppress the mounting gas, I requested an urgent pit stop. Clambering out of the car was excruciating, and eventually, I let out an almighty sound akin to a Harley Davidson revving its engine on a tranquil Sunday morning.

As this monstrous release of gas echoed, my tummy pitched and rolled under duress. This event lasted at least 15 seconds, marking the beginning of a series of lengthy, powerful, and unavoidable farts, occurring every 2-3 minutes. We had no choice but to keep windows down and tolerate the incoming storm.

I couldn't stop for almost seven hours, each episode seemed to compete with the previous one in epic-ness. My derriere began to sore within a couple of hours, with sharp pains surging through my belly. The stench was so unbearable that we had to buy several air fresheners from a gas station.

In an effort to mitigate the smell, I sat on an air freshener. Unfortunately, the result was a terrible mix of rotten eggs and pine scents. My cousins and uncle had to apply Vicks on their noses to combat the odor. The relentless flatulence was so ferocious that I, a grown man, was reduced to tears.

By the fourth hour, we faced another calamity. My farts ceased, but my belly kept distending from trapped gas. We halted at a coffee shop where I rushed into the restroom. I gently tried to initiate the process, but to no avail. In desperation, I applied pressure to my stomach – and there was an explosion. The waste from my bowel splattered the toilet bowl.

My abdomen was contracting violently, much like how stomach muscles behave during vomiting – it was as if my backside was projectile vomiting. Once the ordeal passed after a particularly mammoth fart, I felt my stomach shrink in relief. The memory of the person who encountered that restroom after me often crosses my mind.

From then onwards, although the farts continued, they were less debilitating. Despite the painful experience, there was an odd sense of euphoria. The smell, however, had seeped into my clothes and my uncle's car upholstery. My family members had breezed through almost a whole jar of Vicks. I could sense their silent reeling from enduring my gassy ordeal for seven hours.

We finally reached our destination, but our relationships remained forever altered. No one talked about this incident, yet the unpleasant memories loomed. I suspect none of us will ever eat eggs, all too readily reminded of those distasteful farts. I regret my fiber binge and its unforeseen, potent aftereffects.

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26. The Wrong Kind Of Surprise

This took place on a Sunday night. My eldest son, a Marine, hadn't visited home in almost a full year. He was given a 10-day leave, and he decided to spend it with us. We didn't tell his mom initially because we feared the leave might get cancelled. He figured, once it was confirmed, he'd simply fly home and surprise her. To cover my tracks while picking him up, I told my wife I was heading to a friend's to watch a game.

So off to the airport I went. I even managed to watch the second quarter of the game while waiting for his flight. When he landed, we chatted a bit, collected his luggage, and he changed into his Marine formal uniform. Throughout this time, I misled my wife over text by saying the game wasn't too gripping and I wouldn't stay long at my friend's.

During the drive home, we brainstormed on how to surprise his mom. Ideas ranged from having her open the front door to him casually walking into the house. Ultimately, we decided on him entering slightly after me so I could capture her reaction on film. Interestingly, the house was serene when I arrived, which was particularly strange considering it was just past 9 pm.

Feeling anxious, I entered our bedroom, only to witness an unexpected scene—my wife had prepared for a romantic night. Unknown to me, she had put the kids to sleep early and had been getting herself dolled up during my absence. There she was, alluring in her lingerie and the room bathed in soft candlelight, not aware of the fact that our 21-year-old son was lurking outside, ready to surprise her.

Panic set in and I quickly texted our son to stay outside. This at least prevented the immediate catastrophe of him walking in on this scenario. However, the question of how to untangle this mess still remained. With few options remaining, I resorted to what felt like the silliest plan I've ever come up with.

I asked my wife to get dressed, insisting that she wouldn’t believe what our neighbours were up to. The confusion on her face was priceless! It took some persuading to convince her to get dressed and check out what was supposedly going on outside. Finally, after she opened the door, there stood our son, dressed in his Marine uniform.

The surprise was a success, and all the kids, awakened by the excitement, joined in the happiness. Needless to say, my wife's earlier plans for the night were scuttled. Additionally, in my hastily-orchestrated surprise plan, I forgot to record this priceless moment, losing my chance to share it online.

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27. Anatomically Incorrect

I'm in my third year of med school, currently working my gynecology rotation, and just had my first hands-on experience during a laparoscopic hysterectomy. This procedure involves inflating the stomach and then using a number of tools to remove the uterus. As you can probably guess, keeping the belly inflated becomes tricky once the uterus is gone because air has a pesky habit of wanting to escape.

For this surgery, my initial responsibility was a new one for me: keeping the air from escaping by sticking a rubber stopper in place. I didn't even know such a role existed, but I quickly came to terms with my new task. So, I moved to the foot of the operating table and reached under the sterile sheets draped over the patient's legs.

There I was, my hand holding a rubber globe in place, awkwardly avoiding everyone's gaze. But as time ticked by, I noticed the stomach's pressure was still dropping. The lead doctor, clearly frustrated, paced towards me, tore open the sheet to expose the pelvic area, and bluntly asked me, "Do you even know where it is? Get that stopper out of her butt!"

So, that's my story. Time to go find a hole to hide in.

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28. Spelling It Out

The Yakuza video game series is one of my top favorites. I'm glued to its storyline, gameplay, everything, really. I recently bought Yakuza 0, the only one I hadn't played yet, from the PSN Store—it cost me just $9.99! I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Yesterday, I was chatting about it with a buddy from my gaming group.

During our conversation, I shared how amazing the game was. He seemed interested, wished he could play it too! He's a bit strapped for cash at the moment, so I kindly suggested sending him the money through PayPal. Despite his insistence that he would manage, I sent it anyway, adding a bit extra for food or whatever.

When I sent the money on PayPal, I included a cheeky note that said: "SHUT UP AND TAKE MY YAKUZA MONEY". I instantly regretted this decision. Turns out, using the name of a criminal organization while transferring money online is a bad move! PayPal flagged it, made my payment pend for review, and said the process wouldn't exceed 72 hours.

Fast forward to today, I receive a PayPal email restricting my account access until I clear up the matter. I follow their link, which leads me to the suspicious payment. In the space provided, I had to explain my reference to Yakuza was about the video game, Yakuza 0, and assure them that I, a stay-at-home US citizen without a passport, am not involved with the real Yakuza.

Now, all that's left is to wait for PayPal to review my clarification and hopefully move past this mix-up.

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29. NOT Cool Beans

This is a real-life event that's still unfolding, and it's even resulted in a breakup. Here's the deal: with everything going on, my girlfriend and I decided to stockpile some necessities, including canned food. A few weeks ago, I bought 30 cans of beans. We had a nice variety—10 cans of black beans, 10 of kidney beans, and 10 pink beans. I also scored 15 cans of chickpeas. I figured that was a good amount of beans and chickpeas to dig into every so often, and they'd last us a while.

But, earlier this week, I went to pull out a couple of cans for some vegetarian chili, and the beans had vanished. Poof, gone! When I asked my girlfriend, she confessed to burying all the beans in the woods.

At first, I thought it was a joke, but she swore it was true. She buried them, she said, out of fear that "if things get bad" we might fall prey to "looters or whatever" who'd go after our beans. I argued that this idea seemed totally far-fetched. This triggered a spat because, as she put it, she was "protecting our beans."

By her reasoning, the beans were now safe and sound in the woods behind our apartment. If we really needed beans, we could simply retrieve a can or two from our secret "stash." But, ideally, we should hold off unless "things get worse." I asked why we weren't also hiding our valuable possessions. She retorted that canned food was the true long-term treasure and that we should keep stockpiling beans.

She planned to continue this every week, burying more beans. This drove me to the edge. I wanted to know where these beans stashed in the woods location was, but she wouldn't divulge the secret. Understandably, she feared I would dig them up. Well, she was right.

As much as I'm not usually one to put my foot down, I flipped my lid on this one. This felt non-negotiable. I wanted to know where our beans were, and I warned her that if she continued the bean burying operation, I would move out. We rowed over it. In retrospect, I should have just kept quiet and stashed a reserve of beans in the apartment.

This could have given her time to rethink her bean burying plot. Sure, burying beans in the woods is odd, but why did I have to make a big deal out of it? And what's the worst that could happen? But no, I kept nagging her to show me where our beans were buried or at least map it out. Ultimately, the beans led to our breakup.

The beans, of all things, spelled the end of our relationship. I'm astounded. She moved out, leaving me not just heartbroken, but with a whole rent to pay, which is a major financial blow.

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30. A Student’s Worst Nightmare

At the beginning of the semester, I missed the first week of school due to an impromptu trip with friends. Actually, a few graduate friends even chipped in to cover my ticket since I couldn't afford it myself. Thus, I arrived a week late to a class scheduled for 7-8:15 pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Seeing that I have classes until 2 pm on both days, I typically head home to grab food and take a nap before my evening class. My first Tuesday back, however, I slept too much and found myself five minutes late. The class in question was Microeconomics, a requirement for my degree—all I knew beforehand was that it dealt with economy and money matter.

Upon arrival, they were already discussing shifts in supply and demand curves, and I joined in without a second thought. This went on for about 3.5 weeks—I attended the class, took notes, and completed the weekly assignments. The syllabus outlined a midterm on February 1st. So, on January 30th, the class preceding the exam, I stayed back to get some doubts clarified.

Although I was completing all assignments and finding the course material pertinent, all was theoretical while our class was heavy on maths. Feeling a disconnect, I discussed my midterm concerns with the professor. Our communication unraveled like this. Prof: "What theory? The assignments are full of math. Are you on launchpad?"

Me: "No, we do assignments online—like from where we got the textbook. And what's launchpad?" Prof: "I beg your pardon? There's no textbook for this course". Me: Shows syllabus "But it clearly states in the syllabus." Prof: "What class did you register for?" Me: "Isn't this ECON 202?" To that, the professor broke into laughter, Prof: "This is ECON 301! You must take 202 before taking my class. This is a first for me”.

Feeling awkward, I excused myself to explain the mix-up to my actual professor. I hastily left the class, sped across campus, and caught the real professor as he was exiting the lecture, where I explained what happened including my mistaken class notes as proof.

He echoed the same reaction, "Well, this is new.” Evidently, both classes had the same deadline for assignments and the same dates for midterms. They were seemingly related because the mistaken class was a step up from where I should've been. The only error was in identifying the building code, both classes were in room 112 but different buildings.

Ultimately, I've spent the last couple of days scrubbing out all learning from the mistaken class and catching up with the real class material. Fingers crossed!

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31. A Modern Romeo And Juliet

Right now, I'm hiding in my girlfriend’s room while she and her family are eating dinner downstairs. I haven't eaten or freshened up all day and, well, nature's calling! Let me fill you in on how I ended up here...

This morning, my girlfriend shared the news that her parents were out of the house. After a month apart, this seemed like a great opportunity to see her and return a camera that I had borrowed. I figured we could chill in my car near her neighborhood.

Time was of the essence as her parents had just recently left and I was 20 minutes away from her place. She comforted me by saying her parents would be out at least for an hour and a half for lunch.

Racing against time, I drove over and picked her up to go hang out at a nearby park. Soon, I asked her for some water, which she had forgotten to bring. She suggested that I come into the house for a drink since her folks were still out.

Naturally, I went in. We shared some water and cuddled on her couch. After 10 minutes, to our shock, we heard her parents coming back–they were only out for 40 minutes. We panicked and quickly devised a plan to hide me.

Her room seemed like the perfect hiding spot as I had brought my shoes inside earlier. This could've caused suspicion so I carefully examined other options but our best bet was her room, which is tiny–roughly equivalent to twice the size of a single bed.

The layout of her room meant I could only hide behind her door, as the open door and stairs offered a clear underside view of her bed. As her parents came in, I stayed hidden behind the door, tight against the wall! She then went downstairs to have dinner as I lay there in complete silence and sweltering heat.

She came back, and we paused frequently to listen for her parents. Luckily, they went down for a nap after lunch, providing me with some relief. The space behind the door was cramped and uncomfortable, but I couldn't complain.

Around 2 pm, her father came upstairs to take a shower, close to her room, escalating my nerves! Thankfully, she was in the room doing her work and keeping watch. Soon after, her dad left for work, leaving her mom downstairs on a long call. This gave us a chance to relax a bit, and we shared a brief make-out session to alleviate our stress.

From there, the situation turned into a high-stakes waiting game, with every plan depending on her parents' unpredictable schedules. An escape through a grilled window was out of the question because the key was missing. At around 5:30 pm, her dad almost came into the room, but she purposely walked to the door to deter him. However, to our dismay, her mom filled the vacancy and came upstairs to hang around in the common area.

To buy us some time, my girlfriend initiated a pre-recorded Zoom meeting and closed the door, giving my legs a much-needed break. By 7 pm, her mom asked her to join dinner, leaving me alone in the dark room with no fan or AC in sheer discomfort, causing my feet to go numb. To top it off, the fact that I hadn't eaten and needed to use the bathroom made the situation even worse.

Facing the risk of being caught and consequently facing my own parents' wrath makes the situation more dire. Our current priority is to plan my escape when she comes back up. But, let's see how things unfold...

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32. A Slip Of The Tongue

Right now, I'm hiding in the restroom, engrossed in a game of chess, waiting for my face to return to its natural color... Earlier, I was discussing some project specifics with a female coworker before she headed out to a job site. After wrapping up, as she was about to leave, I wanted to wish her luck with a "go spread your wings". However, fate decided it was time for a bit of chaos.

What I intended next was to say "go stretch your legs"... But, reality played out quite differently. In what felt like a surreal moment, I was a spectator to my own disastrous blunder – I unintentionally told her to "go spread your legs". The shock reflected on her face is etched in my memory. Without wasting a moment, I clarified the quirky brainslip that led to those unexpected words tumbling out inappropriately, especially considering she was about to head to a predominantly male site.

Thankfully, she appeared to accept my explanation and took the incident lightheartedly. But it doesn't make the situation any less mortifying, I regret to say.

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33. Kind To Be Cruel

Growing up, my dad was constantly burdened with the family gossip that he wasn't his dad's real son. The story was that my grandma had an affair with a man named "Tillery" when she became pregnant with my father. My grandparents always staunchly denied these rumors, but they never completely vanished from my dad's life. Grandpa was Native American, grandma was white, and dad was their only child that, according to them, wasn't adopted.

My dad's hair used to be blonde when he was a kid, and with age, it got darker. He bears a resemblance to my grandpa, which made us all sure that he was undoubtedly grandpa's biological child. So, to lay his anxieties to rest, we gifted him a DNA testing kit for his 61st birthday. We wanted to soothe his fears with scientific proof.

After waiting anxiously for several weeks, the results came back today. They showed he was related to a bunch of people with the surname "Tillery". Not only that, but there was no trace of Native American DNA and none of his paternal family's name. I can't express how devastated he is, and it makes me feel awful. It's like the worst thing I've ever inadvertently done to my dad,

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34. Just Golden

This morning, I woke up next to my girlfriend following a night of shared revelry. As I wished her a good morning, she asked, "Do you recall the events from last night?" I enthusiastically replied, "Absolutely, what an exciting night we had!" However, her response quite dramatically shifted the atmosphere. She retorted, "Well, then I'm sure you remember urinating on me."

I was completely startled and taken aback by her statement. At first, I thought that I had perhaps wet the bed, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. It appears that I have no memory of the embarrassing incident. Allegedly, she got up to go to the bathroom, and a minute later I barged in unknowingly and used the toilet while she was still there. This was obviously an unexpected surprise for her; I mean, no one anticipates such an occurrence!

Yet, she mentioned that she took care of the situation and helped me back to bed. Fortunately, she possesses an enviable level of understanding and we managed to laugh it off. Indeed, that was a rather unique way to kick-start our day.

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35. Say Hello To My Little Friend

Yesterday, my brother and I hopped on to an overly crowded subway during the peak rush hour. We managed to find a place to stand and then, I noticed a 6-or-7-year-old kid, seated nearby, scooting closer to his mom to offer me a spot. His gleaming eyes and infectious smile were urging me to join him.

At 6'3" and nearly 200 lbs, there was no way I could fit into the tiny space he had created, but I didn't want his goodwill gesture to go unappreciated. So, I decided to sit—with just half of my backside—enough to indicate that I admired his gesture. We exchanged a quick thank you, a high-five and left it at that—or I should have anyway.

Seeing his school bag with him, I casually asked about his day at school and then slyly slipped in, "Big homework for the weekend?" His innocent response confirmed that he had a towering math assignment due, but unfortunately, his mom caught wind of our conversation.

The moment he spilled the homework beans, her eyes sprung open and she exclaimed, "Oh boy! You told me you wrapped that up yesterday! Looks like someone is going video-game-less this weekend. You fibber!" Both our heads fell, sunk deep in misery and a few subway stops later, she marched him out of the train, holding tightly to his little jacket.

The last image I have is his eyes, pure betrayal painting his face, saying, "Dude, I thought we were pals, why'd you rat me out?" The remorse I felt will stick around for a while. Stay strong, little man! One long weekend may feel like forever at your age, but trust me, time does fly!

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36. Meet The Parents

On my initial outing with a charming girl named Michelle, I picked an upscale restaurant, popular among my peers for dates. I hadn't informed her about our destination. After we made our order, her cheeks blush a fiery red and she urged me to duck out of view. I was puzzled, about to inquire but then an older couple joined us, introducing themselves as Michelle's father and mother.

We embarked on a brief, and seemingly awkward conversation. Her dad had nonchalantly hinted his law enforcement career twice by gesturing to where his gun holster would typically be. Then, he threw an unexpected question at me. A question, I thought was rather old-fashioned, "What are your intentions with my daughter?" To be honest, my agenda was only to become better acquainted with her and potentially ignite a romantic relationship.

However, his question took me by surprise. My default reaction to unexpected situations is humor, which I resort to unwaveringly. So, I retorted: "I'm not certain, officer. I suffer from ‘Intention Deficit Disorder'". Michelle and her mom erupted into fits of laughter, but her father was clearly not tickled. He whisked his daughter away, and unfortunately, I never got to hear from her again.

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37. What Could Have Been

Back when I was 17, I knew this girl who was also my age. We met through mutual friends. Now, I'm bisexual and found her pretty attractive. I, however, never expected her to be interested in girls, much less me. I had a shaky sense of self-worth back then and I managed to convince myself that her friendly overtures were anything but flirty.

We bumped into each other at a supermarket once. She didn't talk to me due to her shyness but later pinged me saying, "I saw you at the grocery store today, you looked cute". However, the clearest sign that I unintentionally ignored was on Valentine's day when we were hanging out with our friends. She approached me with a gesture so overt; I'm surprised I didn't catch on sooner.

She presented me a homemade heart-shaped chocolate, packed in a clear gift bag. Mixed in with the chocolates was something that couldn't be anything more obvious. Tucked inside was a pleasant note, and on the flip side, a manga-style image of two girls hand in hand.

Ironically, what ran through my mind was: "What a sweetheart! I better not let myself fall for her since she would never be attracted to me! She must've felt sorry for me being so single and not easy on the eyes on Valentine's day. Those innocently flirting straight girls!" Looking back now, I almost facepalm realizing how wrong I was, as I recently found out through Facebook that she got married. To a woman.

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38. More Than He Bargained For

So, over a decade ago, my dad brought home a didgeridoo after a trip to Australia to see my aunt. On a day when my parents were out enjoying a walk, I decided to stay home because I felt too full from a cheese binge. With the Internet down, I was kind of just walking aimlessly around the house when I noticed the didgeridoo.

A thought occurred to me—I've never even tried to play this thing before. We've always just treated it like a piece of art. I rarely even notice it, but maybe this was the moment. It felt like playing a trumpet was the closest comparison I had as I aimed to belt out a loud, sustained note. I took a deep breath and immediately felt something strike the back of my throat.

Coughing and spluttering, out came a tiny spherical object that bounced onto the floor. Initially thinking it was just saliva, I didn’t pay it much attention but couldn't shake a weird, ticklish sensation developing in my mouth. Peering down at the white blob, I recoiled in terror as multiple tiny spiders emerged from it and skittered all around.

The moment I realized what had happened, I felt a tickle on my upper lip and swatted at my mouth. Squashed spider. That instantly sent me into panic mode. I raced to the bathroom and continually spat into the sink, met with the horrifying sight of mutilated spider bodies and dismembered legs that were still wriggling their way from the drain.

After several bouts of gagging, I thoroughly rinsed out my mouth, but I've a feeling that it will never quite feel the same again.

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39. Daddy’s Little Girl

I can never recover from this. This experience has left me profoundly shaken, both emotionally and spiritually. You need to understand that I am NOT a lovey-dovey, amorous person. Amorous thoughts or desires rarely cross my mind, if ever; I might as well be as wooden as a fence post. But recently, I've found myself growing increasingly embittered towards such feelings or actions.

"Alright," I thought, "let's venture into that area of myself and see what surfaces!" So, I did... I ordered a couple of toys. Nothing fancy, just two simple, inexpensive items with some lubricant. I reckoned everything was going to be smooth sailing from here. I'll place the order and it'll arrive in about a week.

No one's expecting any parcels then so there's no way this could go wrong. It'll be handed over discreetly and no one will be the wiser! But no, that's not what happened. Can you believe it? It was far worse, a nightmare really. Turns out my dad has a wicked sense of humor, hell-bent on embarrassing me. Little did I know, I was still under my Amazon Prime trial.

I'd forgotten to cancel it after purchasing a Vulpix stuffed toy. The next thing I know, the package gets shipped and arrives...the next day. Even then, it should have been OK as no one in my family typically opens other people’s parcels. Just one problem: MY package arrived with my MOM’S orders. They came in on the same day while I was comfortably nestled in my bed, engrossed in a TV show.

I heard the delivery truck pull up but didn't think much of it. Coincidentally, my mom had ordered multiple car parts and she ended up mixing up my delivery with hers. She opened it without checking since I didn’t mention ordering anything (for obvious reasons). When she saw the contents, she assumed my dad had bought something.

Upon checking the label with my name, she breached all postal sanctity. Did she seal it back up, pretending nothing happened? Did she give it straight to me without a word? No. She went to my dad. My mom walks in, announces, "Our daughter got some adult toys and I don't know what to do".

The news shocked my dad for a moment. But then, he started laughing, picked up the box and said, “I wanna give her this!” He strides into my room. We exchange awkward greetings, he reveals the contents of the box, and for a few unnerving seconds, we're locked in a mutual gaze of disbelief. He places it next to me, grinning ear to ear, and calmly exits.

Interacting with my parents is now excruciatingly awkward. I might need to move out if my dad doesn't stop with the wisecracks.

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40. Gamer Girl

I remember when I regularly played an online multiplayer game with several folks I knew personally. Of the group, 1v1 was my favorite, even though I wasn't that good. One day an old player came back. He was like an MMO superstar, a pro at 1v1s, even mistaken for a bot given his insane level of skill.

Naturally, I developed a shy crush on him. Hearing about my interest in 1v1s, he challenged me and easily won. He'd then shower me with somewhat patronizing tips on how to get better and willingly offered to guide me. Being smitten, I was more than willing to soak up any attention he gave me. His form of imparting knowledge? Defeating me time and time again.

After a while, his interest waned, but I decided to prove my worth. Driven by embarrassment at being so bad, I aimed to impress him. I dedicated ridiculous hours to practicing and studying tactics. We're talking about six hours on weekdays and double that on weekends.

My dedication was so intense, I even lost weight! Ten months later, after nonstop gameplay, my skills had improved dramatically. I convinced him to duel again...and I won. Thinking it was mere luck, he asked for a rematch which I won again.

In an attempt to regain his status, he tweaked his playing style to directly oppose mine, and he won. Elated at his involvement, I switched my tactics and won again. This sparked a friendly competition which I found thrilling, thinking I was impressing a guy I liked all while learning more about the game.

Little did I know, he was fuming on the other side of the screen. Eventually, he declared he was done and logged off. I assumed it was life getting in the way, but learned from a friend that he had quit the game. The reason being he supposedly had job commitments, but I didn't link this with my beating him.

Fast forward to a real-life hangout months later, he essentially ignored me, making distasteful comments about heavily gaming girls being like guys, which he evidently wasn't into. That's when I realized he was peeved because I won. In fact, he never returned to the game. When I stopped gaming years later, ironically, he returned.

For clarity, his departure didn't impact my decision to quit. I played the game for several more years, improved my 1v1 skills, entered into tournaments, and even formed a team with other players.

The game, however, started to decline due to poor updating choices, causing a mass exodus of players. I left when I realized that the more I played, the more dispirited and irate I became. Essentially, the game was losing its charm, so I moved on.

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41. Inside Joke Turned Out

So, a little while back, on a Friday to be precise, something big went down. It's still happening and I've tried to be as specific as I can while remaining cryptic enough to save my hide. I’m pretty sure someone I know might stumble across this eventually. I’m not absolutely sure if I'm to blame, but there's a strong 90% chance that I am. I get the feeling that this could lead to me losing my job, and I’ll willingly take the rap if it comes to that.

I’m part of a mid-sized software company with a headcount of roughly 100 to 150. We switched to Gmail and other Google services a couple of years back and now rely pretty heavily on them, particularly Gmail, to get our work done. You could say that we’re all dependent on either Gmail or Google one way or another. We have our Gmail accounts set up for our business so that we’re all interconnected – an important point to remember for later.

So, there’s this buddy of mine who develops Android apps for some extra cash. I do something similar but my gig involves cloning .apk files and restoring them, something akin to Titanium Backup. Our inside joke goes like this: each time he releases a new (usually paid) app, I’d buy it, clone it using my software, and then ask for a refund. Then, I’d send him an email with the cloned version with a teasing message like, "Hey, check out this neat app I found for free!"

And so, we kept this gag running for quite some time. Then recently, when he uploaded a new app, I did the same routine. This time, I was multitasking at work in the bathroom, buying and refunding the app from my business account. I sent him the cloned app and then headed back to work.

An hour later, I found myself amidst a stir. Everyone was having trouble accessing their Google accounts. At that moment, I didn’t pick up on why. But when I tried to help a fellow colleague, it hit me. Their account had been blocked by Google for violating the Terms of Service.

Even their Google Payments accounts were blocked. I had a sinking feeling and confirmed, to my horror, that it had happened to everyone. We were all banned by Google. Absolute chaos ensued. We were unable to do anything significant with our frozen accounts. Our non-business accounts were hit as well.

Eventually, we realized there was an unexpected pattern. All accounts named for recovery were also impacted by this ban. One of my co-workers was even in tears since she couldn’t access her email. Finally, we were sent home on Friday. Once home, I did some digging and discovered that such bans typically follow misuse of their refund policy.

The ban covers all related accounts and, guess what, our business accounts were all linked. So, two days have passed. We’ve been using Skype to keep in touch, still clueless about the exact cause. Our IT guys, supervisor, and boss are pissed at Google for not providing a solution or information. Google’s policy remains to not divulge any details nor will they revert any actions.

Online posts about similar situations suggest no solutions to such policy breaches since Google doesn’t offer help, regardless of whether the violation was accidental or not. So, yeah, in short, I feel I might be the one who goofed up. I have no clue why Google would have such a harsh policy, but I might have messed up here.

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42. Friend Of A Friend

When I was 25, I was off to a friend's 21st birthday party—a university mate, who lived with her folks. Her place was a fair way away from mine, but I was familiar with the street, so I headed out. Upon reaching the street though, I drew a blank—I couldn't recall the house number, and I had left the invite back home. My attempt to get the address from another mate ended in a dead end—he wasn't privy to it either.

The cul-de-sac had about 40 homes, it was tranquil, so I thought, "Why not just take a leisurely walk and listen for some music and lively chatter?" Found myself in front of a house with music playing, the only one on that street. There I was, a 25-year-old guy, with a bottle of birthday cheer, knocking. Introduced myself as Steph's friend and was there for her birthday. Steph's mom, slightly puzzled, warmly welcomed me in.

I was led through the house, past a cluster of about 15-year-olds, our eyes meeting in uncertainty. I figured the raucous cousins had probably been stationed in the house, while the main party was unfolding in the backyard. And on we moved, to the other daughter's room. You wouldn’t believe it! She was called Steph too. "Steph, your friend is here…" I peered into the room only to be met by an equally perplexed 17-18 year old.

"Er... I don't recognize you," I blurted out, feeling as awkward as ever, glancing anxiously at the mom. A mid-20s guy turning up at a 15th birthday party with hard liquor—I figured I was turning into a total creep. Thankfully, I could explain who I was and who I was seeking. The very understanding mom took pity on me. She knew the family and led me to the right house.

I repeated my heartfelt apologies and thanked her for her kind help.

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43. Sticky Situation

Just a few weeks back, my little one, who's only five, discovered a mother black widow along with her egg sac. She was curious to see it, so I carefully picked it up and placed it in a jar. To ensure safety, I secured the lid and reinforced it with some duct tape. In her excitement, she really wanted them to hatch so she could observe them, and it seemed like a good hands-on learning experience for our homeschooling routine. Afterward, I planned to freeze them, as it felt like the most humane way to handle them.

I thought to myself, "What could possibly go wrong? They're securely sealed." Surprisingly, they weren't. The plastic jar I'd used was a former toy container, riddled with tiny, nearly unseen holes in the bottom and on the sides. Too small for an average hole punch but more than big enough for baby black widows. So, there we were, having an average day when my daughter spots a tiny spider. And then another. Oh no, I feared the worst.

I hasten to the jar, realizing, to my horror, that the egg sac has hatched into hundreds of little venomous offspring. My initial sigh of relief is that the duct tape held firm, those babies couldn’t possibly escape. Except, there was one on my hand at that very moment, which is when I noticed the holes! I let out a scream, uttered words that should never pass a parent’s lips in front of a preschooler, and battled the urge to fling the jar away, dreading the thought of scattering its inhabitants even further.

So, I've banished my kid to the outdoors while I frantically scour and vacuum every inch of our home. May divine mercy be upon us.

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44. One Dollar Deal

It was a typical Monopoly night in my house, with the usual four participants—my brother, mom, dad and me. I was having a tough game—not quite on the verge of going bankrupt or stuck with drowned-in-debt properties, but I could see trouble on the horizon. I had no monopolies, just a couple of almost-complete sets, including New York and St James, with a few random properties sprinkled around.

It was apparent that my brother was leading the path to victory, followed closely by my dad, with my mom struggling by my side. Now it was my turn and I was aiming to organize a well-beneficial trade. In the trade scene, it's me and my dad—I've got a property he needs, he has a card I need. We both have spare funds and extra properties to even out the results post-trade.

A smart swap here, and our chances of defeating my brother could drastically improve. Seems simple, doesn't it? But unfortunately, dad was envisioning laughable trade offers and pushing back against giving up the properties that I really needed. If I'm not getting a monopoly out of this exchange, the trade feels pointless.

Negotiations were heading nowhere and I was getting more and more annoyed. That's when I came up with an idea – a horrible, yet funny idea. I tried to strike a bargain with my dad. "Look Dad, I'm obviously the underdog here, but that just means I've got even less to lose. So, if you don't agree to a trade that will give me a monopoly, be ready to witness the unthinkable—I'll sell all my properties to [brother's name] for just $1."

Dad didn't react well to this and didn't agree to my proposed trade. Perhaps he didn't expect me to act on my threat, but to his surprise, I dealt all my property cards to my brother for a measly dollar and Dad's potential victory went down the drain. Yep, Dad is pretty mad at me. Outrageous as my move was, I feel satisfied in standing my ground as the underdog.

However, this move may have its consequences. Will I ever find Monopoly players in my family ever again? I'm not too optimistic.

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45. Mean What You Say

Here's the story from just a week ago. I got back from a business trip last Thursday night, and my wife informs me there's something going on with our seven-year-old, Beth. I notice some bug bites on her face and her eyelid seems a bit droopy, but otherwise, she seems okay. I have the following day off while my wife has to go to work.

When I wake Beth up for breakfast the next morning, her eye looks a lot worse; it's half-closed and a bit red. Nonetheless, she does not complain of any discomfort. As soon as the doctor's office opens, I give them a call and we're asked to come in. We get there and while registering at the reception, a receptionist who I hadn't seen before expresses surprise at Beth's condition. Trying to lighten the mood, I jokingly retort, "Well, she misbehaved,".

I realize this joke might be in poor taste! I apologize for that! I admit, I tend to have quirky humor and can be a tad socially awkward. Anyway, everyone seems to appreciate the humor, and we share a chuckle before heading off to the waiting room. Shortly after, we're called in to see the doctor. After a quick examination, it turns out Beth was just having a reaction to the bug bites. We're advised to get her some Zyrtec or Benadryl from any drugstore, and we're just about to wrap up when there's a knock on the door, and the doctor steps out.

He returns after a few minutes with a visibly disgruntled look, and informs me that the police want to have a word with me. So we head over to the doctor's office. There are two officers there—one male, one female—and the female officer attempts to engage Beth in some light conversation before asking if she'd like to stay in the other room and read a book while we talk. Beth, however, has an irrational fear of law enforcement officers stemming from her older brother’s empty threats of calling the cops whenever she'd step into his room.

Understanding the dilemma, the officers insist Beth should stay in a different room while we talk. Luckily, one of Beth's cheerleading coaches was still around and was kind enough to keep an eye on her in the waiting room. Then, the officers tell me they received a report about potential child abuse. The doctor clarifies that it was just a huge misunderstanding, as he'd just checked Beth out and everything was fine. This, I figure out, is what made him angry with the receptionist, who hurriedly makes a lame excuse before leaving.

Apparently, this was the second such incident in a fortnight. A previous overreaction on her part had drawn unnecessary attention, leading to the temporary shutdown of the entire business block that also earned him the disdain of his neighbors. The officers apologize for the inconvenience but maintain they need to conduct a full investigation, and that I'd need to accompany them to the station. With Beth understandably distraught by now, a friend comes over to pick her up.

On getting to the station (they even let me drive there), my uncle, a lawyer, meets up with me. The officers again mention that they're aware of the situation, but has to follow formalities, which could take up to 3-5 days, or even longer. On hearing about this, my wife nearly loses it. The county attorney suggests that typically a restraining order is sought in such cases, but agrees not to pursue it if I commit to steering clear of Beth till the investigation is concluded.

My uncle advises me to agree to the arrangement, given that the restraining order would go on public record. Consequently, I spend the weekend at my brother's place and make an unnecessary business trip through the week. Although I can't wait to get back home and see my family, I have a hunch that I might end up camping on the couch for a bit.

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46. Parenting Is Hard

Every week, my daughter and I attend a "mommy and me" event. Honestly, it's not my cup of tea, but my mother-in-law gifted us a one-year membership for Christmas. I think it was her subtle way of telling me to socialize my kid more.

So, we find ourselves there for an hour each week, hanging around with all the Pinterest-perfect moms. They chat about themed birthday parties, screen time, and gluten-free recipes, while their kids seem to communicate in sign language. Honestly, I found that part pretty cool. So, I decided to teach my kid basic sign language for simple needs, and it worked!

My little one, who previously struggled to relay her needs, is now able to sign "more", "all done", and "drink"! She even calls me mom and my husband dad using sign language! So, I guess you could say, dear Pinterest moms, I owe you one.

One day, with my husband out for work, I didn't feel like cooking. So, I thought of taking my laidback daughter, who loves French fries as much as I do, for a quick meal at a local burger joint. They served a kiddie cup of water for her that I kept a safe distance to prevent any potential spillage mess.

Soon, each time my kid wanted a drink, she signed it. She even used sign language to catch my attention, although she seemed to prefer signing "dad"—found it more amusing than "mom", I guess. Meanwhile, I noticed two women a few tables away signing to each other, stealing glances and giggling at us.

I shrugged it off presuming maybe I messed up the sign language I picked from Google. However, as these women were leaving, they stopped by my table and showed me a message on their iPhone. It implied my daughter was calling me "dumb" and asking for alcohol instead of water.

What?! She then clarified that I had incorrectly taught my daughter the sign for "drink" and “dad". Apparently, her sign implied “alcohol” and not a simple non-alcoholic drink, and her salutation meant “dumb” rather than “dad”.

Now, I can't help but imagine the amusement of my illustrious Pinterest moms if I turned up the next week with my toddler asking for a pint!

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47. Out And Proud

This just happened about five minutes ago and I'm still feeling super jittery. I'm 17 and identify as bisexual. I come from a pretty religious family who, unfortunately, tend to be quite biased. As a tradition, we had to attend church today. You should know that I am known around here as the “model Christian girl”, which is really bugging me because I'm constantly putting up a facade to please others.

Today had been an off day for me. At church, as my family and I got settled, the conversation swung towards LGBTQ folks, which isn't really uncommon. I don’t know why, I just couldn't hold it in and began defending their rights, which, in hindsight, probably looked odd. Amidst a heated debate with an elder, a young one chimed in saying, “You almost sound like a gay defending those misfits". That's when I lost it.

I countered, “I am bi, you uninformed dimwit". What a coming out confession, huh? The magnitude of it sank in a bit later though. Now, I'm hiding in the restroom, typing all of this. The church folks and I had a small discussion post this dramatic revelation. They didn’t take it too well initially, but I managed to coax them into at least considering LGBTQ rights.

A few apologised, but I could see a shift in others' views towards me. My mum, to my surprise, came out in support of me. It's not really a full-blown blunder as I am proud of my identity, but I suppose I could have broken the news differently.

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48. Missing Persons Report

So here's the story.

Normally, I'm the one who makes our bed every morning. However, yesterday, I was running late and didn't have time for it. I planned to visit my dad that day, and because my wife was not feeling well, she decided to stay at home. I returned home around 8:30 pm and noticed she was nowhere to be found.

I spotted her wallet, which made me think she might have just taken a quick walk outside—nothing too unusual considering we live in a lively city that never sleeps. But around 9:30 pm, worry started to creep in—especially as she wouldn't pick up her calls. So, I reached out to a few of her friends, followed by her parents, to see if they knew where she was. Everyone was at a loss, and this understandably caused quite a panic.

Coming to my aid, my father-in-law suggested I track her phone using her Apple account. I followed his advice and to my surprise, found the phone was in our apartment. Just as I was about to call for help, I used the 'Find My iPhone' alarm and followed the sound to our bedroom.

Rushing in, I started creating a mess and out of nowhere, my wife wakes up and asks me what was going on. What I initially thought was just a bundle of blankets turned out to be my wife, who went to bed early due to her not feeling well. This explains why she didn't hear me as she was using earplugs.

Here I was, finding myself in an awkward situation where I had to explain to her family that their panic was caused by my silly mistake. So yeah, I had an interesting day.

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49. Regular Old Embarrassment

I'm employed at a well-liked cafe in Canada, for a couple of years now. Our regular customers don't usually need to place their order since we've got it memorized. There's this one customer whose order was the first one I remembered because he always gets something unique and was kind to me when I was new. He usually orders both a large and a medium coffee, occasionally just the large.

Today, he came in for the first time since I've been back from my break. I relayed his usual order of the large and medium coffees to my coworker at the counter. But this time, he only got the large one. Later, my boss told me the reason he didn't buy the medium coffee was because it used to be his wife's, and unfortunately, she had passed away.

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50. Me And My Big Mouth

A few weeks back, I found myself in an awkward situation. You see, I sometimes work as a rideshare driver for some extra pocket money and honestly, just to get off the couch. I live in a place that's a hotspot for tourists, especially during the summer time, so vacation homes are a sort of a dime a dozen here. So much so, that I often find myself ferrying different people to and from the same houses, as these vacation homes often host groups of friends or families on vacation.

On one notable day, I dropped a gentleman at a lovely house near the beach. It just so happened that I had picked up another guy from the exact same house just a couple of hours ago. So, thinking these folks were mates, I casually mentioned it to my passenger, saying, "I think I just picked up a friend of yours from this same place just an hour ago". In response, he seemed confused and responded, "No, you must've gotten the house wrong". I insisted, "Actually, he came out from that same side door. I took him to a bar. His girlfriend, however, stayed back in the house."

I decided not to mention having seen her giving him a farewell kiss at the door. I then asked, "Having a holiday?" He responded, "This is my family home, we've owned it for years. We've never rented it out. The only residents are my wife and myself. Plus, I've been in New York for the past four days for work." Come to think of it, this resulted in quite an awkward silence as the realization hit both of us.

After he got off, I drove away, mentally chastising myself for being overly chatty.

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