Mom and dad are supposed to know best. In so-called “normal” families, our parents should lead us though the trials of childhood and toward adulthood with a steady hand, a caring touch, and a wise understanding of the world. Key word: “supposed to.” These entitled parents, however, were absolutely ridiculous—and downright horrible at their jobs.
This happened about an hour ago. I was grocery shopping and decided to pick up a few bars of chocolates, which is when I heard the ear-piercing scream of what can only be an entitled kid. He looked like he was somewhere between five and six years of age. He began to violently pull on his mother's arm, pointing at my chocolate bars and yelling at her to buy him some.
Then the mom says to me, “Did you have to pick that up in front of him?” Me: Ummm...What??? Mom: Can't you see it’s upsetting my child? Me: Well, that's a you problem. Mom: (In between trying to get her demon spawn to act like a human being) You need to put them back. My son only started demanding chocolates when he saw you take them. Just put them back. Now! You can get some later. You shouldn't make kids jealous!
I just smiled at her and approached the chocolate shelves. But instead of putting them back, I actually took a few more. It earned me a glare from her and earned her another round of tantrums from the kid. Petty? Yes. Satisfying? Heck yes!
I’m a cocktail waitress, and I’m also seven months pregnant. Now, obviously, I don’t drink while pregnant or drink on the job ever. A woman, the Karen, comes in with what I’m assuming was her husband and son and daughter and asks to be seated for lunch. We’re not really a restaurant, but we do have a small appetizer menu with sandwiches and wings and stuff.
I give them menus and Karen says, “But, wait, do you work here?” “Yep.” “But you’re pregnant, you can’t work here if you’re pregnant.” “I work here, I don’t drink here,” I say with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light. The woman looks me over and says, “Have you taken any prenatal courses? Do you really think that’s responsible to have your unborn baby in here?” This is where I made an error.
I get defensive about anyone asserting I’m a bad mother, obviously. So I said, “Well, you’ve brought your kids in here.” “Yes, and what kind of example do you think you’re setting for them?” I’m still collecting my thoughts at this point when they grunt and wave me away. I figure I can kiss my tip goodbye but hopefully that’ll be the end of the discussion.
I see them flagging down the bartender after a few minutes and figure they’re ready, so I go over. Karen asks to speak to a manager. Now, they haven’t even gotten drinks yet, so nothing about my abilities could really be wrong yet. I just ask if there’s anything I can help them with, and her husband (Mr. Karen) says really sternly, “No, just a manager, didn’t you hear my wife?”
The place is too small for a manager, it’s just servers and bartenders and two co-owners. The one who’s working is in the back on a phone call and will be MAD if I go and bother her. I realize they’re probably still uncomfortable with my being pregnant so say, “Maybe Ella (The only other server) can help?” But Karen just gets up to physically look for the manager.
I admit defeat and go back to drag her off her call. The owner tried not to let on how mad she is about being disrupted and goes over with a big smile to ask if there’s anything she can help them with. Karen informs her, as though it’s urgent breaking news, “Your server is pregnant.” The owner says she’s aware and asks if they’d prefer a different server.
Karen: No no no, she can’t be a drink girl if she’s pregnant. Owner: I assure you, none of our employees drink on the clock. Especially not our pregnant ones. If you’d prefer I can have Ella serve you...Mr. Karen: I don’t want my kids seeing this! Owner: Maybe I’m missing something. Seeing what, exactly? Mr. Karen (talking really slowly and condescendingly): A. pregnant. woman. around. all. this. alcohol.
Me: I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I would never drink during pregnancy. Then the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard comes out. Karen: Look honey, didn’t you take a health class in junior high? With a drink right under you half the time, vapor is absorbed into your blood through the air and then that blood goes to the fetus and poisons it.
The owner and I exchange a look and realize we won’t get anywhere with her. Owner: So, we can have Ella serve you, or I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do. Mr. Karen: We’re not leaving until she’s placed on maternity leave. Or better yet, fired! Owner: We can’t help you. Mr. Karen: I’ll call the authorities! You’re an accomplice to child endangerment!
Owner: There is no child endangerment to speak of sir, please leave. Karen (getting crocodile teary): YOU MAY NOT THINK A FETUS IS A CHILD BUT I WAS TAUGHT TO BELIEVE LIFE BEGINS AT CONCEPTION AND I WILL STAND UP FOR ALL LIVING THINGS BIG AND SMALL BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT MY LORD AND SAVIOR WANTS ME TO DO! The entire time she’s delivering this tearful speech she’s looking around expecting others to, I don’t know, join in with her? Applaud?
Owner: You’re disturbing my customers and if you don’t leave you’re trespassing and I’ll have to escalate this, which I really don’t want to do. Karen: JESUS IS LOVE AND JESUS SAID THIS IS NOT OKAY. JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK IT’S OKAY TO HARM A CHILD IF IT’S SMALL ENOUGH—This is an Irish pub and the owners are devout Catholics, but she wasn’t having any of this. Owner: HEY. I don’t need anyone to tell me what Jesus said. I need you to please leave.
Mr. Karen: I’m calling the authorities. Owner: You do that. We just stop trying to service their table. As we all wait for the officers to arrive, Karen keeps trying to give her sermon, but there was a game on that people had come to watch and eventually everyone yelled at her until she piped down. Enter Officer 1 and Officer 2.
Officer 1: We received a call. Is there a Mr. Karen in here somewhere? Mr. Karen: Right here officers! Officer 1: You said you were witnessing child endangerment—are the parties involved still in the bar? They point me out. I pretend not to notice because I’m worried the officers will take them outside and I won’t be able to watch any more fireworks.
Officer 2: So what exactly was going on? Karen: That woman was drinking! She’s pregnant, you can plainly see she’s very pregnant. Before I can go over and tell them she’s lying about my drinking, the officers look at each other and look back at the Karen family. Officer 2: That’s not against the law. Karen: WHAT?!?!!!!!??! Mr. Karen: Look here—
Officer 1: It’s definitely not recommended, but it isn’t against the law. Now, do you know the woman, is she a friend of yours? Family? Karen: She works here. In a bar. And she’s pregnant! Mr. Karen: I want to see this place’s license revoked. Officer 2: So, listen, she isn’t doing anything wrong. What I can do is talk to her, but we can’t take any action beyond that. Is there anything else you observed that you’d like to report?
So the second officer comes over to me and takes me to a quiet spot while the first is getting their personal information and taking the rest of the statement. Karen is crying again and I assume bemoaning being the last bastion of good Christian morality in this bar. Officer 2 introduces himself and congratulates me on the pregnancy and says I probably overheard why they were called.
He starts to offer me some public resources for new mothers, parenting classes, etc. I didn’t want to interrupt him, so was waiting for the right moment to interject with my plea of innocence. That’s when other patrons come over, thinking I’m in trouble and start defending me. We have plenty of regulars who know me and they would not let this stand.
Some even complained to the officers that the owner had asked the Karen party to leave and they’d continued to make a scene. So both the officers go talk to the owner, who said she was just about to call them herself on account of the trespassing, but sirens outside are bad for business and she was hoping the Karens would eventually leave on their own.
The officers tell the Karen party they need to leave. Mr. Karen: This is a public place. I have every right to be here if I want! Officer 1: No sir, this is a private business, and the business owners have asked you to leave. It sounds like more than once, but at least once since we’ve been here. Karen: THIS IS A DISGRACE. THIS IS AN AFFRONT TO...TO...TO SCRIPTURE AND CHILD SAFETY AND—
Officer 2: I understand you’re upset. Let’s talk about it outside. (He places a hand on Mr. Karen and gives him a firm look.) This next part was said as Mr. Karen walks out backward so he can keep yelling at us, but bumping into things every step of the way. Mr. Karen: I’ll be contacting the authorities about your license. Bump I happen to be close personal friends with the mayor! Crash And you two, I want badge numbers. Don’t think we’re done here because we haven’t even bang started!
So the officers took them out and as it was told to me by a regular who left around the same time, walked the Karens to their car, which was improperly parked in a handicap space. For which they were ticketed. They did make a complaint to the liquor authority, claiming, among many things, that we served minors. We were investigated but obviously came up fine.
I am at the park with my daughter and girlfriend, helping my daughter play on the slide. Meanwhile, this crazy kid is running around. Now, I am trying to make it a personal habit to always carry my gun with me wherever I go. I fully conceal it as much as possible, but I’m guessing when I reached up to put my baby girl on the slide, the movement must have revealed it.
The next thing I know, I feel a tug at my shirt where my piece is, so I quickly turn around. It’s the crazy kid. The conversation goes as follows: Me: What's up little buddy? Kid: Let me see your gun. We are playing cowboys and he doesn't have one (points to friend) Me: No, no, sorry pal. No one can have this but me. It’s dangerous.
Kid: (looks angry, pretends to shoot me, and runs off). Over? I hoped so…but no. Soon I hear an “ahem.” Good lord, it’s his mother. Me: What? Mom: Why can't my kid play with your toy? Me: What toy? Mom: The toy on your hip. Me: Um no sorry, this is real and dangerous. Mom: So just take the bullets out and let him play with it.
Me: How about NO. Mom: (baffled look) Well, I never. What's the harm of him playing with it if it’s unloaded? Me: I'm sure you haven't. Loaded or not, I'm not letting a child play with a weapon you halfwit. Don't you have someone else's business to mind? What an annoying encounter that put a damper on my already sour day. Some people…
This just happened to me and I’m both shocked and laughing my butt off. I was on a bus on my way into college, listening to a punk band I’ve recently got heavily into, a band from Brixen in the German-speaking region of South Tyrol in Italy called Frei. Wild. The bus is fairly packed, so I’m right at the front of the bus where you’d park a stroller or a wheelchair.
A woman with a stroller gets onto the bus and sits in the only free seat, next to me. She looks down at my phone (why? I still can’t work it out) and sees that I’m listening to a song called “Sieger Stehen Da Auf, Wo Verlier Liegen Bleiben” (roughly translated, rather aptly, to “Winners Stand Where Losers Fall”). She then yanks one of my earphones out. “You live in Scotland, stop listening to your awful Polish music. God, all you Polaks are all the same, refusing to be decent citizens and speak English.”
Now, I’m Scottish. Born and bred. Apart from a week in Amsterdam, two weeks in Morocco, three weeks in the States, and a week in France, I’ve stayed very much in the UK my entire life. Never been to Poland, or Germany for that matter. I eventually had enough of her, so I tried to put her in her place: “This is German Music. Also, I was born here. To Scottish parents.”
Karen tried to make her rebuttal, but I got there first. “Also, how does me listening to some punk rock that happens to be in German effect you? I have my headphones, you can’t hear it.” Karen’s eyes lit up as if she’d won the Karen lottery. “Why are you listening to that sinful, demonic music in public? You’re gonna scare my kid.”
I look in the stroller. “Firstly, your child is sound asleep. Secondly, I have my headphones in, you can’t hear it, I can’t hear it. Screw off and let me listen to my music in peace. Maybe Polish people aren’t the problem in this country. Maybe it’s stuck-up judgmental witches like you.” As I called her out on this, she whacked the stop button, and yeeted herself and the stroller right off the bus at the next stop. Thank God.
This happened to my best friend who I will call JJ, and it happened about two years ago. JJ came out to his family when he was about 27 years old. At that point, aside from them, everyone else in his life knew he was gay. And there was a good reason for it. As he expected, his parents reacted horribly to the news, and basically disowned him right then and there.
They later told both extended families and his uncles and grandparents to cut him off too. His maternal grandmother went as far as to try to take him out of his dead maternal grandfather's will. She failed, due to the will's conditions: No one could modify it, not even the main representative AKA grandma, and homosexuality was not listed in the conditions that could made the inheritance void.
Whether grandpa didn’t expect it to happen or he just didn’t care, take your guess. JJ was the partial owner of some properties and also got a substantial amount of money, which got even bigger when he reclaimed in cash his corresponding share of the house. This forced his family to buy them from him. JJ didn't need the money actually, as by this point he was a moderately successful professional and lived in his own apartment.
Still, it severed any binding he had with his family that could become a problem in the future. He still kept good relationships with his sister and most of his cousins, but even if they invited him to family gatherings, he always declined. Fast forward three years and JJ is getting married to his long-time boyfriend Sky, whose family was the polar opposite of JJ's.
When they found out, they made "Royal Wedding” style plans for their elopement. They were (well, are) very wealthy, and JJ contributed to the whole extravaganza with a portion of his inheritance. He invited as his guests his friends (including yours truly as his best man), some co-workers, his sister, and the cousins he still spoke to. It was a lot of people!
The wedding was amazing, done in an underground (literally speaking, it was a freaking cave!) venue. His sister took him to the altar, there was an orchestra playing, etc. Fairy tale style. And the after-party well...I can’t remember half of it, but it was from another world. They said go big or go home, and they really went BIG. But enough of the context! You came here for the juicy part.
JJ told the "good cousins" not to tell anything to his parents or other family members about the wedding, because he didn’t want trouble. But obviously, the next day, their social media accounts were full of pictures and word spread like wildfire. At first, it was small things. He started receiving calls from some aunts about why they weren’t invited, the "bad" cousins complained via Facebook, and other nuisances.
He just ignored them and blocked numbers and accounts. He did not want or need to give explanations when they had all made clear their position years prior. But one day, Satan came directly to his door. His parents, his maternal grandma, and his paternal grandparents—all the "heads" of the families—came to visit. How they found out where he lived is still a mystery to him.
Sky was working and JJ was alone in the house, so there was no one to help him against the crook squad (his name, not mine). It seems at first they tried to be "gentle," asking how he could leave them out of such an important event that directly affected the family (dudes, really?) and things like that. His mom even used the, "You took away my chance of seeing my only male son marry" argument.
He pointed out that they were the ones that expelled him from the family and that they hated everything gay (half of that wedding was an LGBT crowd if you are wondering). They classified his exile as a "misunderstanding." The bickering between the six continued for a long time until he got tired and asked what they wanted, as he could not "re-do" the wedding.
One of the grandmas spilled the beans: "Ungrateful brat, at least compensate us for not inviting us to a wedding WE paid for!" That was the problem! They were mad he had used the "family" money on the ceremony. He told me they actually thought he paid for everything and had burned out all the inheritance when it was more a 30-40% of the deal,
They wanted the money back, and they had brought all the grandparents with them as additional emotional leverage. As I told you earlier, JJ had made sure that money had no bindings to his family anymore, but for some reason, they still believed it was theirs and were mad he had spent it. He confronted them, and they threw away their facade.
What came next was a serious fight in which both JJ and his father ended up hitting each other until the neighbors called the authorities. Charges were pressed on both sides but it didn’t go anywhere really. However, he was able to ask for restraining orders against all of them. To this day, JJ is shaken about the event.
He had prepared himself for years knowing that his family would hate him because of his sexuality, but he still retained some hope that far in the future they could mend things. He lost that hope after they tried to emotionally scam him.
My boyfriend's cousin has four children. Each of her kids is the personification of the word bratty. The cousin refuses to discipline them and constantly makes excuses for their behavior. She's also very judgemental of our decision to not have children. She has often made some snide comments towards me, implying that I'm a selfish jerk who is depriving my boyfriend of the "joys of raising children."
For these reasons and for her generally entitled behavior, my boyfriend had cut ties with her. However, when he and I visited his parental home three days ago for his parents’ anniversary celebration, we ran into her again. My boyfriend's dad had urged him to use this occasion to mend bridges with the cousin. So we both tried to make nice and engaged in small talk with her. I’ve never regretted an action more.
During our conversation, my boyfriend mentioned that we were leaving for Melbourne for vacation in a few days. At this, the cousin's eyes lit up. "Oh that sounds like so much fun," she said, "My husband and I haven't gone anywhere since our honeymoon." She whined some more about how hard it is for them with four kids, if only they could afford such luxuries, etc.
I could tell where this was going almost immediately. My boyfriend probably felt sorry for her and, being the kind and generous soul that he is, he offered to buy them a weekend in a resort in Mt. Abu, a hill station in the Indian state of Rajasthan. Cousin (face scrunched up): "That's nice, but why can't you just take us to Melbourne with you?"
BF (getting a bit annoyed, but still patient): Well, we want to spend some time alone together. Plus we'll be meeting some close friends there. Besides, Mt. Abu is a beautiful place. Your kids will love it. Cousin (in the annoying “Karen” tone): I still don't see why you can't take us to Australia. You're being so selfish, going on this great trip and sticking your family with a cheap weekend getaway.
BF's Mom: He's making a very generous offer. Either take it or leave it. Cousin (wearing the expression that morons wear when they think they've had a bright idea): Oh I know! Why don't my husband and I go to Mt. Abu and you can take our kids to Melbourne? Me: What??? Cousin: It's a great idea. The kids can have fun in Melbourne with you two and my hubby and I can enjoy a peaceful weekend. This way, the kids can actually spend some time with their uncle. You never make time for them!
BF: I'm offering for the last time. It's either the weekend in Mt. Abu or nothing at all. And why the heck would we ruin our vacation taking care of your kids? Cousin: How can you say that? My kids are so well-behaved. You'll have so much fun spending time with them. Besides, my husband and I could really use some quiet time together. You two don't have any responsibilities. You have no idea how hard it is to raise four kids. You can afford this trip. I don't see why you won't share with family......
BF: One more word and you're losing my Mt. Abu offer. On hearing this, the cousin finally shut up. We all had dinner together and she was mercifully quiet. If only her kids had followed her example. You'd think this would be the end of it, but NO! We had seriously underestimated her dedication to her Karenness. This morning, the cousin showed up at my apartment with the kids in tow.
I was shocked to see her, of course, and asked if something was wrong. She smiled and said, "I'm just here to drop the kids off. You're leaving tonight right?" After taking a second to recover, I asked, "Did you fall and hit your head on something? We told you we weren't taking your kids with us. What part of that did you not understand?"
She then tried to convince me that my boyfriend had called her later on and had agreed to take her kids. I knew this was a lie and called it as such. The cousin became enraged and asked if I was going to break her kids' hearts. I called my boyfriend, and after telling him what was going on I turned on the speaker. My boyfriend proceeded to chew her out brutally, telling her he would no longer pay for their weekend getaway and that this is exactly the kind of behavior that had made him cut ties with her.
She tried to get a word in but he wouldn't let her. The cousin took her kids and stormed off. My boyfriend and I are having a laugh over this and are still wondering what made her think that this plan would ever work.
I lived in Melbourne, Australia for about a year. While there, I met a gorgeous gay couple, Brian and Derek (names changed). They were both bi, and they lived in the same building as me on the floor directly above mine. I soon entered into an intimate relationship with both of them. We would have threesomes, and sometimes more.
Besides the awesome bedroom stuff, I also became really good friends with them and we're still in touch. It was tons of fun for all involved. Among my neighbors was a middle-aged couple with two children. They lived right across the hallway from me and were quick to judge us after seeing Brian and Derek exiting my apartment early in the morning on more than one occasion.
The woman, Karen, asked me in the elevator what I was doing with "those two gays." I politely told her it was none of her business. When she kept on pestering me, I told her "If you must know, I'm friends with benefits with them, now leave me alone." I still remember the look of shock on her face. I don't think she expected me to reply so brazenly.
When I told Brian and Derek about this, they shared their own experience in dealing with them. This couple had tried to talk to the property manager about "gays moving into a building with families and children." They were told to screw off but any time either or both of these guys were in the elevator with them or ran into them in the parking lot, the husband (Let's call him Todd) would stand between them and his kids while giving Brian and/or Derek angry looks.
They must've been trying to prevent their kids from catching "the gay." HA. In the weeks that followed, the entitled couple continued to give me the stink eye any time they saw me. I just smiled back at them sweetly, which annoyed them even more. On one occasion, their teenage daughter said "good morning" to me and tried to make small talk, before her mother dragged her away by the arm while berating her for talking to "that woman."
Interestingly, their kids seemed very well behaved and nice and I truly felt sorry for them. My next-door neighbors (another couple with kids with whom I got along very well) later told me that Karen had tried to get them to file a noise complaint against me. According to Karen’s logic, since I shared a wall with that family, they could probably hear all the "ungodly" noises coming from my apartment and they should complain in order to protect their children.
The nice couple told them they would do no such thing as I had never bothered them and they had never heard any such noises coming out of my apartment. One night, Brian, Derek, and I decided to have a foursome that would involve the three of us and Brian and Derek's friend Dean. The next morning, Dean asked if he could come back to my place with me.
As it was a Sunday morning and Dean was hotter than Hades, I agreed. As he and I were walking down the hallway to my place, Karen was just getting out of hers. She saw Dean and I smiling and talking with his arm around my waist. She approached me, asking angrily if I was “selling my body." I told her she was insane and asked her to kindly screw off.
Later that day, I received a terrifying call from the property manager. She wanted to let me know that Karen and Todd had complained that I was a "loose woman" and that it was dangerous for their children to be in the same building as me. They told her in great detail about how I was bringing home different men. The property manager had gotten to know Brian and Derek quite well and had an inkling that I was “friends” with them.
So she contacted them and they told her all about Karen’s crazy behavior and accusations. They said that the man they had seen me with was a mutual friend. The property manager dissuaded the family from filing any sort of false complaint against me as it could cause a world of trouble for them. I thanked that kind lady and later had a good chuckle over it all with Brian and Derek.
The blatant harassment from Karen and Todd had stopped, but of course, the hateful looks continued. On one occasion, when we were in the elevator together, Karen made a pathetic attempt at shaming me by condescendingly asking if I was going to have any men over that night. What she didn't realize is that shame about my promiscuity is something I'm entirely incapable of feeling.
I proceeded to tell her in great detail about all the acts I was going to engage in that evening. I mean, she's the one who asked, right? After this fun little interaction, she and her husband avoided me completely. Good times.
I just recently had a new family move into my neighborhood. The neighborhood is relatively small and close-knit; it’s the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows each other and we generally all get along well. We have big block parties and shoot off fireworks together on holidays. The new family is a middle-aged couple with their four children.
The kids’ ages range from around 14 to two, and this incident is just the first of several problems that I have had with this family since they moved in. So I was hanging out in the living room just relaxing and watching TV. From the couch, I have a clear view of my backyard. That’s when I noticed the retractable cover of my swimming pool begin to roll up.
I was home alone and no one else has access to my backyard. For insurance reasons, I have a lock on my back gate because of the pool. The gate always remains locked as we would be liable if anything was to happen in the yard. I rush outside and see what was going on. That’s when I see this Entitled Mother standing next to my pool with her four children.
They are dressed in their swimsuits and the mom is rolling up the cover of my pool. Me: Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing in my backyard? Her response shocked me to the core...EM: My kids have been well behaved today and they want to go for a swim. I saw that you have a pool so we are going for a dip. Me: This is not a public pool and you are on my private property. I need you to get out of my backyard now. I never told you that you are allowed on my property without permission.
EM: WHO THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? IT IS A VERY HOT DAY AND MY KIDS WANT TO GO FOR A SWIM AND THEY WILL. Me: Not in my private pool they will not. How did you even get in my yard anyway? The gate is locked. EM: SCREW OFF! IN MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD WE DID THIS ALL THE TIME. MY KIDS ARE GOING FOR A SWIM NOW AND YOU WILL NOT EVEN KNOW WE ARE HERE. YOU ARE JUST BEING SELFISH AND I WILL NOT ALLOW MY BABIES TO SUFFER BECAUSE OF YOUR BAD MOOD.
Me (Now angry): I will not ask again. You either get off my property now or I will call the authorities. You are not using my pool and that is final. EM (finally gets the cover off): Okay kids jump on in. Don’t listen to this stupid witch. Kid: Yeah you stupid witch. We are going for a swim now and you can’t stop us. Me: THAT’S IT! I AM CALLING THE AUTHORITIES.
EM now sees that I am serious and tries to the “reason” with me. EM: You would really not allow four kids to go for a swim on a hot day. What kind of heartless person are you? Just let us go swimming for an hour and we will leave. Don’t you want to be a good neighbor to us? Me: No I do not. You just broke into my backyard without permission? Please get off my property now.
She starts to mumble something to her kids and then she grabs her two youngest and starts to walk out of my yard. I then turn around and see her two oldest boys still standing by the pool. I start to walk over to tell them to go with their mother, and that’s when I see what they are doing. Her two oldest spawns are PEEING into my pool.
Kid: MAYBE THAT WILL TEACH YOU TO BE A BETTER NEIGHBOR, YOU STUPID WITCH. Me (grabs the arms of the two oldest and pushes them out of the gate): GET OFF MY PROPERTY YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BRATS. EM: DON’T YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON MY BABIES OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE ON YOU. WHO DO YOU THINK THEY WILL BELIEVE? A GOOD MOMMY OR A PATHETIC LITTLE WITCH LIKE YOU? YOU JUST GOT WHAT YOU DESERVE. ENJOY SWIMMING IN YOUR PEE POOL.
They then all walk off laughing as they went back to their house. I was in complete shock and I didn’t know what to do. I now wish I called the authorities after this first incident, but I sadly did not and things have since escalated with this family. Remember how I said that I had a lock on the gate? I later found it broken on the ground. I have no idea what they used to smash it, but they were successful. I have since purchased a much more heavy-duty lock.
Years ago, this new neighbor of mine kept trying for the better part of a summer to use me as a free babysitter. It started when her kid, who was really a cute, well-behaved kid about seven years old, showed up at my door at 7:15 in the morning. We were all just waking up and getting around so I told him that my boys weren't ready to play yet and to come back in a few hours.
That is when the kid told me his mom had gone to work. This seemed a bit odd to me so I brought him in and tried to call his mom. Sure enough, she was gone. So I brought him in and fed him breakfast. He stayed with us the rest of the day and he got along well with my two boys who were five and 10. I had only talked to his mom about two times, so I had no idea why she would think this was a good idea.
When his mom came home, I walked him over so I could talk to her. I told her not to do that again, though I did say that I would be willing to watch him on occasion if asked first, but not every day. Her response was: "Well, what else do you have to do all day?" This kind of took me by surprise. I tried to tell her that I work at home on commissions.
She rolled her eyes and told me that being an artist isn't a “real job,” and besides I was married so I didn't need to work. I should have pointed out to her that she was married and working, but I felt myself getting angry and I didn't want to argue with her. "Just don't do that again." I said to her. "You have teenage kids home for the summer, have them babysit."
She frowned at me and said, "They work." I said, "So do I!" Then I went home. The next morning at 7:15 the kid sheepishly shows up again. Once again I bring him in and feed him breakfast and later lunch. Once again I took him to his home and once again told his mother to please not do that again. She actually tried to tell me that it was my neighborly duty to watch him and I told her that if she sent him tomorrow I wouldn't be there because of a doctor’s appointment. Her reply blew my mind.
She said that as a babysitter I should have given her several day’s notice about this. I angrily told her I was NOT a babysitter and then went home. The next morning I made my 7 am appointment. I did some grocery shopping afterward and it was about 10 am when I got home. The poor kid was waiting for me on my porch. He had been there for nearly three hours and the little guy was scared and hungry.
That night when I took the kid home, I was angry. I told her how the kid was scared and alone. She actually said that she had told me I hadn't given her enough time to find anyone else and that his being alone was my fault. I pointed at her and said: "I am NOT a babysitter! Don't send him over again!" That night, this woman had her adult nephew call me to scream at me for not being home when his poor aunt dropped her son off.
How dare I leave a small child alone like that? I told the nephew that his aunt KNEW I wasn't home so it was HER that left a child all alone. I said that I had repeatedly asked his aunt NOT to send the kid over anymore and I was NOT a babysitter. This nephew freaked out at me when I said that. I hung up on him while he was still screaming at me.
This worked for two wonderful, quiet days. Then right back to it. I tried everything, but this woman insisted that it was my neighborly duty to babysit and would tell me as much. Finally, I decided that to solve this problem I would just get a job outside of my home, and that way she would have to stop. (I was too much of a pacifist back then. I no longer am). I landed an interview for a position at the local library and I was ecstatic.
I told the woman to keep her son home because I had arranged for my kids to stay with their grandmother while I went to this interview. The next morning, I drove to my mother-in-law's house and took my kids inside. When I went to leave, I found this woman's kid waiting for me in my car! She had actually followed me there and put her son in my unlocked car and then zoomed off while I was dropping off my boys.
My mother-in-law wasn't the most flexible person in the world and she adamantly refused to watch an extra kid. I had to cancel my interview. I was livid. I toyed with several ideas at this moment. I could take the kid to her job and leave him with her...or I could call CPS. I really wasn't sure how stable this woman's job was and I didn't want her to get fired, and when I went to go call the CPS I chickened out because it really wouldn't be fair to the little boy.
Besides, I had heard really scary stories about CPS. In the end, I just waited for her to come home. I left the boy at my house with my husband (I planned on doing a lot of cussing) and I stomped over to her house and met her before she even got out of her car. I shouted at her. I told her she was dense, stupid, moronic, and crazy. I told her that she had lost me my job interview and if she sent her kid over to be watched again I was going to call CPS.
I told her that she was violating my space and if it took going to court to get her to knock it off, then so be it. She then put her hand on her hip and in her most snotty tone she said: "Well if you didn't want to sit with him, all you had to do was tell me." I really do not know how I kept from punching her right then and there, this comment was so asinine.
I turned on my heels to start stomping home when I saw her husband pulling up. Now, this was the first time I had ever met her husband. He worked at a job that only allowed him to be home on weekends. (I can't blame him, I wouldn't want to be around her either), but when she saw him she turned tail and RAN into her house. He saw that I was upset and asked me what had happened.
I told him. Told him all of it, especially the incident at my mother-in-law's. The poor man was shocked. He had been told that I was being paid and he had been giving her money to pay me! He had no idea all this had been going on and he was very, very apologetic over the whole thing. In fact, he apologized again to my husband when he came over to pick up his little boy.
Finally, FINALLY, she stopped sending her kid over! Later I heard from others that she was badmouthing me and warning folks about what a horrid babysitter I was, but I took that as a favor. I didn't want to babysit any kids other than my own and I still hate doing so. I don't hate the kids, I love kids. It's dealing with the parents that I don't like.
The kid came over only once in a while after that to play with my kids, after he called first to get permission, exactly the way it should be done. I'm sure his dad had something to do with that because the kid only came over on weekends. This is one of a few stories I have involving this crazy lady. Her only entertainment in life seems to be seeing how bizarre she can act in this neighborhood.
I'm luckier than my other neighbors in the fact that she leaves me alone now, and I'm very happy with that.
When I was 16, I worked at the amusement park in my city. It wasn't a big one, but it wasn't small either. Most of our rides were aimed towards elementary school-aged children, though we had a few for the older kids as well. Anyways, I was a rides operator, and that day, I was assigned to a ride designed for older kids. We had to measure the kids, and they couldn't go on if they were under the height requirements no matter what, even if they had a parent with them.
It was a ride that only had a bar that went across your stomach, so someone too small could easily fall off. Entitled Mother and her entitled brat are in line, and I can already tell the kid is gonna be too short to ride without even having to measure him. He's pretty far back, so I know it's gonna be one or two runs before he makes it on.
So after I'm done loading, I tell the mom that her kid is too short for the ride and that they should go try the smaller version of it on the other side of the park. She looks at me with the dirtiest stare ever and just says: “We're gonna wait here.” Now, I have to run my ride because I need to meet certain times, so I don't argue. Time goes by and she's finally at the start of the line.
I measure her kid, and of course he's like 6 inches shorter than the height requirements. Me: I'm sorry ma'am, but your child is too short to ride this ride. I would recommend going over to the smaller version near the entrance of the park, though. He: No, it's fine, I'm with him. I'll hold him. She tries to shove me out of the way, but I'm standing my ground.
Me: I'm really sorry ma'am, but we don't allow people under the height limit to ride this ride. The safeties we have on it just won't hold someone too small, and your kid could fall off. She then asks to speak to my manager. I get asked that quite a lot by entitled parents, so I give them a call and tell her to wait on the side while I load my ride.
She gets very offended, saying that she shouldn't have to wait longer for her kid to ride this ride because I couldn't do my job, and at this point I just kind of ignore her and move on. Ride runs, my team lead gets there and talks with her. He tells her that he's really sorry but that I'm right, her child can't ride this ride. Now at this point, the brat is throwing a tantrum.
I mean, he's rolling on the concrete like a piece of bacon in a frying pan. I'm trying my hardest not to laugh at this point. Anyways, my lead apologizes, offers her a "skip the line" ticket for the ride he's allowed to go on at the entrance, and leaves. The mom is trying to calm down the kid and starts talking to him. He gets up, all smiling and happy, and stands next to the gates, watching me.
Now I'm not thinking too much of this at this point, so I start loading my ride again, which has a significantly less busy line and I have a couple of empty seats on it. As I'm doing my security checks and getting ready to run it, the mom taps me on the shoulder and thanks me for my help, which I found extremely odd. I turn around to tell her that it's really no problem, and she starts apologizing and telling me that she shouldn't have acted the way she did and blah blah blah.
I'm completely stunned, not really sure how to react, but I tell her it's no problem and to enjoy the rest of her day. I look back at my ride, and realize the brat isn't standing next to the fence anymore. I'm starting to get weird vibes. I look around for him and he's not anywhere to be seen. I look at the mom again, who has her phone out with her camera pointing at the ride, and that's when I knew.
I take my keys out of the ride and start walking towards it. It's kind of a "swing" type of thing so I couldn't see the back from where I was standing, but I knew darn well the brat had snuck on. The mom starts panicking, asking me what I'm doing and why I'm not running the ride. I completely ignore her and walk to the back of the ride, and lo and behold, the kid is sitting there.
He almost pees himself when he sees me walking towards him. He didn't have the bar properly locked AT ALL and would've flown right out as soon as I started the ride. Now I'm mad, and I mean mad. I mean, I could've gone behind bars for manslaughter right then and there. I just look at him and very sternly tell him to get off my ride.
He tells me he can't and he needs help, which is fair. I don't even know how he managed to get on in the first place, but I grab him and put him down, and he starts sprinting towards his mom, crying. As he's running, he trips and falls down on his face. When he gets up, his nose is all bloody and his knees are skinned, which is when I knew I was completely and utterly screwed.
The mom starts screaming like a banshee at the sight. As I'm running towards the kid to make sure he's okay and to help him up, she runs towards me, slaps me hard across the face, and starts yelling for security. I'm absolutely and completely stunned at this point. Some security guards must've heard her screaming at the top of her lungs because they come running.
The exchange goes something like this. Guard: What's going on here? Mom: This girl attacked my son! She threw him off the ride into the pavement! Me: Excuse me??? Brat: It's true!! She punched me too. Guard: Do you want us to call the authorities? Mom: Yes! You need to arrest her!! She's mentally unstable. I'm just dumbfounded at this point.
My lead gets to the ride and asks what the heck is going on, and I tell him everything that happened in between sobs. There's one thing the mom forgot to take into account, though. There were like 15 people on the ride who saw everything. So they tell the officers and the security guards and my lead and everyone else what happened.
The mom quickly realized her error, as she just started running with her kid in tow as soon as she saw people asking the other guests questions. They caught her pretty quickly, and I pressed assault charges against her. Needless to say, I handed in my resignation that same day.
My best friend and I were on a beach, just chilling. Now, my best friend is on the big-breasted side of the spectrum. So, bikinis are a nightmare to her. She is always stared at, and that makes her really uncomfortable. Anyway, we were in a more secluded part of the beach, and we had already swum and decided to sit a bit. When we come back to our chairs, a family has settled down near us.
The mom was in her late 30s and the dad was in his early 50s. They had a child with them, a boy about nine years old. We didn't pay any mind to them, we just sat on our chairs and talked for a bit. I noticed the dad of the family looking at my friend, but shrugged it off. Soon, I decide to pick something to drink (there was a bar nearby) and I asked my friend if she wanted something.
She asked me for a lemonade. I go to the bar and see the mother of the family coming near me. I waited in line until the woman comes to talk to me. Her: "Hi, I saw that you and your friend are nearby me and my family." I just nodded to her. Her: "I think your friend is really beautiful, but she is showing too much cleavage."
I looked at her, trying to think of how to respond to this. Me: “Well, she can't be faulted for being born with a big chest can she?" She looked at me like she was expecting me to agree with her, and was now shocked. Her: "Well, she could try not wearing a bikini that small!" She said this with a somewhat annoyed voice. Me: "She can do whatever she wants, lady."
She turned red at that. I don't think that this woman had ever heard someone disagree with her before. Her: “My child will be traumatized!" I looked back to where my friend is sitting, and I have a clear view of her and the family. This woman’s child is making sandcastles, while her husband is staring hard at my friend, who was putting on sunscreen at the time.
So, the problem was not her child, it was her husband. Me: "Well I can't do much lady, now please leave me alone." I picked up my drinks and ignored the woman. She wasn't happy about it, though. Her: “Don't you dare ignore me young man, I'm not finished." I just look at her and took a sip of my drink before saying, "Lady, your kid isn't even looking at my friend, your husband on the other hand..."
I pointed at her husband who was staring at my friend with hungry eyes. She looked shocked. I go to my friend, give her her drink and sit beside her, all while watching as the wife comes back and furiously whispers to her husband. Not long after, my friend and I decided to leave. I didn't tell my friend about the crazy lady, she has enough confidence issues. At least I didn't see this family ever again.
I joined the army right out of high school. During basic training, I volunteered for a unit known as The Old Guard, which is responsible for ceremonies in the DC area and funerals in Arlington National Cemetery, amongst other duties. It consists of units you may have heard of, such as the US Army Drill Team and the Sentinels of the Tomb of the Unknowns.
So it's the 4th of July in DC. Big celebration, all kinds of stuff going on. I'm sure you can picture it. Most of the celebration goes on in front of the Capitol on the National Mall. As part of the festivities, my unit, the Presidential Guns Salute Battery, fires the bass line for the performance of the 1812 overture. Only the more seasoned guys in the platoon get picked to do it, so the rest of us are given a cordoned-off area in the very front.
We bring some food, some chairs, our families, and we have a cookout during the day and watch the show when it starts. During the earlier parts of the day, it isn't too crowded, but as evening draws near it becomes packed, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. Fortunately, as I mentioned before, we had our own area at the front roped off from the general public, giving us ample room to have our cookout.
Throughout the day, we would have people politely ask if they could join us, we said no but were always respectful. We weren't in uniform, but we had our unit T-shirts on so we were still representing the army. Enter Karen. It's midway through the afternoon, still a few hours before the show. We're enjoying the weather and the time off.
I happened to be near the edge of our area when I hear someone behind me. I turn around and there she is, pinched face and a haircut that says “I want to speak with your manager's manager.” Karen: Excuse me young man, could you ask your father to take this rope down? This is supposed to be a public area for everyone and my kids can't see the Capitol.
Mind you, there are signs hanging on the rope every five feet explaining the purpose of the rope. Me: (with my best PR smile) I'm sorry ma'am, this area is reserved for members of The Old Guard and their families. If you'd like to come back a little closer to dusk, we'll be taking the rope down around then. Karen: The Old Guard? I've never heard of that before.
Me: (always happy to drop knowledge) Ma'am, We are the primary ceremonial unit for the US Army and escort to the President of the US of A. Karen: I don't see the president. Shouldn't you be escorting him or something then? rolls eyes Me: Uhh.... (I had no idea how to respond to that, fortunately, I was saved.) Platoon Sergeant: (Places hand on my shoulder) Good afternoon ma'am, I'm Sergeant First Class Guyincharge, what seems to be the problem?
As I knew this was my cue to get out, I went back to my chair and observed their interaction. Couldn't hear anything, but the interaction concluded with Karen walking away looking annoyed. Didn't think anything else of it…until about two hours later. We're cleaning up our trash, breaking down the chairs and tables and such. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Karen approaching again.
This time she has two Capitol officers in tow. My sergeant must have noticed too, as I heard him mutter "what in the heck?” under his breath as he walked to intercept the trio. Again, I didn't hear all of the conversation, but we all heard about it later. Sergeant: Officers, what seems to be the problem? Officers: (Obviously exasperated by the situation) Sergeant Guyincharge, we received a report that you and your group were making lewd gestures and comments towards this woman's family. Is there any truth to this?
Sergeant: Absolutely not. I’ve been supervising them all day, nothing even close to that has happened today. Offices: (nodding as though this was what they expected) We had assumed that, but we had to follow up. Sorry to bother you. Karen: You mean you’re going to just let them sit there and hog up all of the space!? I drove my kids nine hours to see this!!!!!
Officers: Ma'am, these men are here with the express permission of the District of Columbia. There are signs there (points to a sign not three feet away) that explicitly state that. Sergeant: (trying to diffuse the situation) Ma'am, we're cleaning up our area right now. As soon as we are done we will be removing the rope to let everyone in. If you can be patient and wait, we can get you and your family right up front here in about 20 minutes.
Karen proceeded to stare at them, much like a cow stares at an incoming train. Then she spun around and walked away without another word. We think it's all over, we go back to what we were doing. We were wrong. We're just finishing up, taking the ropes off of the pylons and stacking the pylons in the arms of another dude in the platoon.
Out of nowhere, here comes Karen, trailed by her four children and obviously stressed spouse. "It's about time! Get out of my way!" Karen all but screams as she goes barreling right through Private Anotherguy. Now, to be in The Old Guard, you have to be between 5' 10" and 6' 4" and maintain the army standard of physical fitness. To add to that, we are an infantry unit.
If you aren't aware, the infantry is generally the front-line combat, and we are trained for just that. So, suffice to say, none of us were small, nor weak. Karen was probably around 180ish. So when I say she barreled through this dude, I mean it. She put some force into it. Anotherguy goes sprawling to the ground, steel pylons fly in every direction.
A couple hit him in the face, and he chipped a tooth and split his eyebrow open. One pylon bounces off the ground and hits one of Karen's children in the leg. The kid, probably 12 or 13, starts wailing like he lost a limb. As we are helping Anotherguy to his feet, Karen is losing every last ounce of her mind. Red-faced, screaming about how she's going to sue us for assault, how we've ruined her family vacation blah blah blah......
At this point, the sergeant is done with her. If Karen thought she was being loud, she quickly learned there are few things louder than a ticked-off senior NCO. With a single word, he quieted everyone within 50 feet of us. Sergeant: STOP! (paused for dramatic effect) THAT IS ENOUGH. YOU HAVE BEEN HARASSING ME ALL AFTERNOON. WE HAVE TRIED TO BE NICE, WE HAVE TRIED TO BE RESPECTFUL. YOU HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT RUDE. NOW YOU'VE INJURED ONE OF MY MEN. THIS. STOPS. NOW!
I think Karen might have had a small stroke right then. She stood, mouth agape, not able to utter a single word. And then, as if right on cue, here come those two Capitol officers. They hadn't been far away and had seen the entire incident. I didn't think Karen's eyes could get any wider, until the first officer pulled out a pair of cuffs and said, "Ma'am turn around and put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest for assault and harassment."
She tried every excuse she could think of, but the officers were having exactly none of it. They talked to Anotherguy, and he wanted to press charges, so they carted her off. I don't know what the father did with the kids, they disappeared when the officers took Karen. Come to find out after Anotherguy comes back from the court hearing that Karen had been carrying three bottles of pills that weren't hers, plus two credit cards that weren’t hers either.
No idea what kind of time she got, but it wasn't enough. After all was said and done, we watched the 1812 overture and laughed about Karen for weeks afterward. Anotherguy was fine, a chipped tooth and a little bit of bruising. Nothing major, fortunately.
My pregnancy was okay up until the last month. It was 95 degrees outside, I was retaining so much water, my sandals hardly fit on the biggest setting, and I was constantly in pain. It sucked. I run (waddle) to the store for a couple last-minute things for baby, and I was sooo relieved that there was a parking spot for preggos and parents near the entrance.
I pulled in and took a few moments to chug water and gather my things when I notice a car pull up to my left. They were half in the handicap parking stall and yelling something out the window. I rolled my window down and hear “you shouldn’t be in that spot, you don’t have kids. My son shouldn’t have to walk from the back of the parking lot.”
It was something to that effect; I was a little stunned to be honest. I calmly told her that I was VERY pregnant, and this stall was for pregnant women, too. She kept talking to her son, but at me, you know what I mean? “Sorry son, you have to walk in the heat, because this lady parked in our spot.” So, I opened my door and hoisted my giant, land-whale-esque body out of my car.
She was still turned around “talking to her son” and when she finally saw me, I was about three feet away from her window. I bent down (ha, no, I tilted my head down) and said “Do you see how pregnant I am? I think you and your son will be okay walking.” And then I saw the son...and he was like seven?!? The kid can walk. She just sighed and drove away.
My daughter had a friend over for a sleepover last weekend. They're both 13-year-old girls, and it was all fairly standard stuff. Watch bad movies, stay up too late, eat too much junk food, you know the drill. Both kids seemed to have a nice time, and the visiting kid was nice enough for someone else's teenage child, and I really didn't think too much more about it.
Until... the friend's mother called me Sunday night, absolutely outraged over what I had done while her child was in my care. Was it allowing them to stay up too late? Was it the junk food? Was it the choice of film I allowed them to watch? No, it was far worse than that. Imagine the mother's horror when she discovered I had allowed her child to...wait for it...drink tap water.
Turns out, only bottled water is acceptable for her family. Now, I know some places, there are issues drinking tap water. We live in an area with excellent tap water quality, so I was kind of baffled by what the issue was. I told her, "Um, our tap water is fine, and your kid didn't say anything at the time," but oh no, that wasn't good enough.
You see, tap water has toxins in it, it's not safe and her family only drinks bottled water, and she is "frankly shocked and disturbed that her child was associating with the child of such an awful, awful parent."
She finished by saying that I could "rest assured she would be calling CPS first thing Monday to have my child removed from such a harmful environment." I was just kind of stunned and didn't really say anything, and she hung up on me. I'd love to know where she thinks bottled water companies get their water from, and second, we're in Australia, and CPS isn't a thing here. So yeah. They're out there.
I'm a half-black woman who grew up in a ghetto and worked hard through high school to earn a scholarship and full ride through college. I now work a very decent job and make a reasonable amount of money, which I'm not afraid to show off, though I do maintain my ghetto heritage. Naturally, racism is a touchy subject for me. So here I am minding my own business in a local coffee place answering some emails on my new Samsung note 10.
It’s my day off so I'm not dressed particularly well. Hoodie, sweatpants, you know the deal. I noticed that this entitled mother and her kid are staring at me. Not a big deal especially since this is an upper-class area and I'm, well me, and with my demeanor. Eventually, they walk over to me and the mother says, "You! Where did you get that?"
ME: "Um, I bought it?" HER: "How?" ME: "How do you think?" HER: "People like 'you' can't afford phones like that, you must have taken it.” At this point, I'm sort of in shock and speechless. She follows up with: "I should report you to the authorities, but I'm willing to let this go if you hand the phone over to my precious baby son, now!"
ME: "Why would I do that?" HER: "Because you took it and don't deserve it!" ME: "You're not getting my phone.” At this point, the manager walks over after noticing the situation and tries to calm everyone down. Manager: Ma'am, I need you to keep it down. This is a coffee shop." HER: "THIS WOMAN TOOK MY SON’S PHONE. Manager: "Wait what?" HER: "I want a full refund, my phone back, and some compensation."
Manager: (to me) "Ma'am, you need to give her the phone back or I'm calling the authorities.” ME: "But it's my phone." HER: "THAT'S MY SONS PHONE.” Manager: "Ma'am, that's clearly not your phone.” At this point, the kid is screeching. I can't really make out what he's saying but he's reaching for my phone. Having dealt with this stuff all my life, I began to go off at all three of them so naturally officers were called.
The officers immediately apprehended me (and only me) and confiscated my phone. They also took the mother’s kid’s, and manager’s statements before taking mine last. All three of them told the officer an exaggerated version of events. At this point, you'd have thought I was some homeless Black person who'd just mugged a 13-year-old if you believed the story they told.
I gave them my statement and told them I would refuse to cooperate any further until they checked the security footage. The coffee shop refused to let them check since as far as they were concerned, it was clear I was a thief and I'd been apprehended, so what's the point? Eventually, the security footage was checked, and everything became very awkward after that.
The officers awkwardly apologized and even went out of their way to make excuses. None of the coffee shop staff actually said anything to me once I was apprehended. Guess I'm not going back there now. The kid never stopped screeching even as I left after being released, and the mother seemed completely unfazed by the security footage and continued to claim that I must have taken it from someone else because “my type” can't afford those phones.
So that was another day off ruined by entitled parents and racial profiling. I wish I could say I was surprised by the absolute gall of that woman, but to be honest, I've experienced so many of these situations nothing surprises me anymore.
This story took place five months ago. So my stepmom is British. Welsh, to be exact. For those who don't know, Wales is the little hump west of England and north of Cornwall. It's a beautiful place known for sheep. My stepmom is ethnically Welsh, but raised in England. Despite this, my Nain and Taid (Welsh for grandma and grandpa) insisted on her and her brother learning Welsh to preserve their heritage.
The Welsh are a proud people, and so they wanted to ensure their children were as immersed as they could be. So she grew up bilingual, went to university, got a job working for a certain tech giant, and moved to the US to help train their staff. A few years later, she met my dad and joined the family. At the time I was still getting over my mom, so her presence was less than welcome.
Despite this, my stepmom never pushed me or tried to buy her way in. She gave me the room I needed to grieve, and, when I was ready, showered me with enough affection to make up for the lost time. She has my eternal love and respect for it and has become my second mother. Now, we live in a large town in the mid-west, being west of the seaboard but east of the Mississippi, so while most people are open to outsiders, there's the usual few who just want to ruin everything.
Around Christmas time, I was visiting home from college with my girlfriend, Charlie, enjoying some quality girls' time with my stepmom. We were in the mall, searching for some place that sold plastic modeling glue for my dad (he's really into Warhammer). During this, my stepmom is on the phone with her brother, who still lives in the UK, catching up and sharing some laughs.
They were speaking Welsh to each other, which happened to offend a woman who has since earned the title of Karen. We were standing in front of the mall map, trying to find the hobby store when I heard a loud scoff from behind us. I turned to see a woman dressed in a rather nice-looking business suit corralling her kids away like they'd just encountered a streaker.
Now I was ready to let it go, but Charlie can get very defensive of people she likes, so she ended up calling her out. "Something offend you, ma'am?" The woman seemed to ponder her next move before responding with that oh so stupid phrase. "You're in America! When you're here, you speak English! Not Muslim! My kids don't need to hear that!"
Now, I've met some pretty stupid people in my life. Even dated one. But never, ever have I heard of someone confusing Welsh for Arabic (which is what I assumed she meant). They're two very different languages from two very different cultures. The only similarity between them is how little I understand them. However, for someone to be so offended by someone speaking another language, they probably also didn't immerse themselves too much in other cultures.
To her, the world probably began in New York and ended in Los Angeles. It was at this point that my stepmom hung up. "Now, I know that Americans get a bad rap and all," she said in an obvious British accent. "But it doesn't help when you actively conform to the stereotype." "Oh my God," Karen said with righteous indignation. "Your accent is awful! Where did you even learn to speak English?"
My stepmom held the most deadpan expression she could: "England." I swear I could smell the smoke coming from the flaming mess inside Karen's skull. She looked at Charlie and I (a pair of shockingly Caucasian college brats) and then my stepmom (our even paler chaperone), took a moment to process what she was doing, and then walked away, dragging a group of embarrassed looking tweens with her.
I have to give her credit. At least she knew when to quit. My stepmom chuckled, muttered an offensive-sounding Welsh phrase, and then helped us scan the map for the hobby shop. The rest of the day went well, and we had a funny story to tell my dad when we got back. To all the people out there who get offended when someone speaks another language: get over yourselves.
The world doesn't revolve around you. To all my bilingual friends out there who speak their native tongues: good for you. It's important to keep your culture alive. And to Karen: next time you try to accost someone for speaking something other than English, at least get the right continent.
I was playing on a Minecraft server with five friends at the time this happened. This new kid joined our game and our Skype call. He kept breaking our builds and demanding we give him stuff. We originally decided to ban him, but we wanted to have some fun, so we kept just killing him. The Skype call was basically six guys laughing and a little kid screaming, calling us hackers.
We were talking on Skype when his mother called. "LET MY SON PLAY ON THE SERVER, YOU UNGRATEFUL JERKS.” "No," we all said at the same time. "MY HUSBAND IS A LAWYER AND HE WILL SUE YOU AND I WILL CALL THE AUTHORITIES FOR HARASSMENT!" "Shut up, lady!" "DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! MY SON DESERVES ALL YOUR ITEMS MORE THAN ALL OF YOU COMBINED!"
“Screw off, woman!" "YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SWEAR! ONLY ADULTS ARE ALLOWED TO USE THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE!" One of us makes a Christian Minecraft server meme and she gets really angry. "HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY RELIGION! ALRIGHT. WHERE DO YOU LIVE?" We start making up addresses. "THAT'S IT! I'M LEAVING!" "About time." She left and blocked us. We still joke about that incident.
I'm 39, successful, and am quite well off. My siblings, sadly, are not. My brother, who is 42, has three children. My sister, 35, also has three, with another one on the way. My youngest sister, who is 28, is married and pregnant, but she had nothing to do with the events of this story. We were all raised to believe that money doesn't matter and all you need is a happy marriage and lots of kids to live a happy life.
Being poor and having lots of kids was somehow glorified. Maybe because that's the way our parents lived and wanted to convince themselves that they didn’t screw up. Fortunately for me, I didn't buy into that nonsense. I always knew I never wanted children. I focused on my career and on achieving success. Today I have my own house, wonderful pets, and a loving boyfriend.
My family, however, seems to think that there's something wrong with my lifestyle. My parents have often commented that my 5-bedroom house is empty without any kids running around. My siblings often tell me I'm selfish for not having kids and actually enjoying my life. However, their disdain for my "selfish" lifestyle doesn't stop them from begging for money.
My brother and sister have called me and asked me to help pay their bills. Now, if it's something serious like clothes or school supplies for their kids, I'm willing to pitch in. But I always refuse when I'm asked to pay for trips to amusement parks, etc. I also paid for my parents to stay in a high-end assisted living facility. They're my parents, I felt that I owed them this much.
Still, I couldn't help but feel insulted when they sang praises for my siblings for breeding and following in their footsteps and how they wish I had done the same. As if, among all their kids, I'm the biggest disappointment. For this reason, I've distanced myself from them. I only call or visit to check up on them and don't let them be a part of my life.
The other day, I got a call from my sister asking if she, her husband, my brother, and his wife could come over. I said OK. At this meeting, they made a stunning request. They asked me to leave my fortune to their kids, in equal portions. And if I did, they would stop asking me for financial help. They said this as if they were doing me a favor.
"You don't have kids, so who are you gonna leave it to?" asked my brother. I told them I was going to leave my money to charities and that I don't owe them anything. When they went on the "you're selfish" route, I told them to get lost. The next morning, I got a call from my dad telling me they were disappointed in me. I simply hung up.
The one family member who has stood by me is my youngest sister. She actually has her stuff together and I could not be more proud of her. After the altercation with my siblings, my parents tried a different strategy. They tried to sweet talk me and suddenly their tune had changed from "You're so selfish" to "Aww! We didn't mean it. Let's talk."
So, after they kept pestering me to have a word with them in person, I invited them over. Now my parents know darn well that chocolate is bad for dogs, but my mom has tried to give them some on many occasions. When I tell her off she always comes back with "but maybe they like it" and "I was just being nice.” This time when they came over, I left them in the living room and went to the kitchen to get some refreshments.
While I was there, one of my dogs came over to greet them. I could see them from the kitchen. My mom petted him for a while, then reached into her purse and pulled out a bar of chocolate. She broke off a piece and was about to give it to him when I stormed over and knocked it out of her hands. My parents looked shocked. I was enraged.
Even after being told repeatedly that chocolate is bad for dogs, they just didn't get it. When I asked my mom what the heck she was doing, my dad actually started yelling at me and told me I was being rude. I told them either they were complete idiots or they were intentionally trying to hurt my dog because of the recent conversation with my siblings.
I told them I was sick of their lies and that they were on very thin ice with me. When they tried to argue back, I grabbed my dad by the arm and walked him out the door. My mom followed.
This happened about 3-4 years after I moved out of my parents’ house and had been living independently. Then one day, I get this string of texts from my mom. Mom: "Hey, how have you been doing? What are you up to two weeks from now?" Me: "I've been doing alright, I've started lifting weights and exercising more. I don't think I'm doing anything too exciting next week. Why you ask?"
Mom: "perfect! Me and <boyfriend> are going on a trip and need you to house sit and watch the dogs for us." Me: "Sorry, but I can't just leave for a week." Mom: "Please, the dogs miss you and I'd really hate to put them in the kennel." Me: "Sorry but I have a job, I can't just go missing for a week." Mom: "Why can't you drive to work from my house?"
Me: "Because it's a 2.5hr commute each way." Mom: "You have vacation days, right? Just use them." Me: "No." Mom: "please. I'd feel really bad about putting <dog's name> in the kennel. You know how much she hates it." Me: "You obviously don't feel that bad about doing it." Then I hear nothing from her until the day before they have their trip.
Mom: "Hey, we're leaving for our trip today and I was wondering when you were going to be here? I want to show you some things before we leave." Me: "What part of our last conversation gave you any idea that I agreed to this?" Mom: "That's very rude of you and no way to speak to your mother. Now, can we expect you here by 5?" And at that point, I just put my phone on silent and stopped talking to her.
I was traveling on a train yesterday afternoon, back from seeing some friends. I was basically traveling the entire length of the route with a journey of around nine hours going over 450 miles north, so a long time. I had a reserved seat for the whole journey, with the seat next to me switching from being reserved for some of the journey for an hour or two, then being vacant.
At around hour 6 of my journey, the train was becoming very busy with families going home from day trips out. The next stop saw the person sitting next to me depart, and a woman—who was looking and acting as if the group of scraggy students (like me!) and families with little ones were far beneath her—got on with a woman who looked my age.
They were both looking around for a seat. The older woman saw the space next to me and made a beeline for it, with the other woman in tow. This is the conversation that followed: Older Woman: Hi, I think you’re in my daughter’s seat. Me: Oh, really? I’m pretty sure this is the seat I reserved, doesn’t it say so on the display up top?
Older Woman: No, the screen’s gone off, but these are the seats for me and my daughter, now move. At this, I got out of my seat to look at the screen, which still said it was reserved and quickly sat back down. Me: Nope, it still says it’s my seat. The seat next to me seems free for a while if one of you wants to sit down. Daughter: Why can’t you just move? We’re probably traveling further than you anyway.
Me: Sorry, but I’m really not going to move. Older Woman: [Raising her voice to attract the attention of others] I can’t believe you won’t have the dignity to let me sit next to my child! She can’t just go and sit on her own! Me [to the daughter]: How old are you? Daughter: 23, so probably older than you, you really should do what I say.
I’m 21 and look it. Me: Seriously? I won’t move from my reserved seat, your “child” is 23 and doesn’t need to sit with you! [I was feeling petty and so rose my voice to mimic the mom when saying this] Older Woman: That’s it, we’re getting the staff, I will not be spoken to like this by a child! With that, they both left the carriage, and I didn’t hear anything from any member of staff or anyone else, though a lovely little old lady who was sitting across from me said that she would probably have sworn like a sailor at them if they’d spoken to her like that when they’d gone out of earshot!
The icing on the cake was when the train stopped around half an hour later, I saw them both getting off and walking up the platform—it took everything in me not to give them a little wave as they skulked past!
This happened when I was 13 and was attending a male friend's birthday party—I’m a girl. We attended the same school and a lot of other kids from our school were also there, along with their parents. As I gave my friend his present, I wished him a happy birthday with a hug. When he was cutting the cake, another boy from our school, who was a notorious jerk, stood right next to me.
He kept trying to touch my chest since I was already quite developed. I kept telling him to stop but he wouldn't listen. He kept trying to put his arms around me and trying to grope my chest. His friends were standing around us and I could hear them snicker. Finally, I'd had enough. I yelled at him to get away from me and my friend's mom, the hostess, asked me what was wrong.
I told her what the guy had been doing. She sternly told him to apologize and to stop harassing me, otherwise, he would be asked to leave. Except now the jerk’s horrible mom stepped in. She asked my friend's mom why she was scolding her son, and my friend's mom explained what he had been doing. This horrible mom’s response was something like, "I don't see what the big deal is. This girl hugged your son, why can't she let my son touch her?"
Then she turned to me and said, "You need to stop being so stuck up and learn to be friendly. If my son just put his arm around you, what's wrong with that? Stop complaining." I told her I didn't like her son and didn't like him touching me. My friend's mom told her to stop making a scene and that her son needs to apologize.
This woman acted indignantly and as she stormed off, she again said something like, "If that girl is okay with your son touching her, she’s probably okay with all boys touching her. You're just being rude to us." My friend's mom was absolutely wonderful. She asked if I was okay and told me I had done the right thing by telling the boy off.
This was my first encounter with an entitled parent—outside of my own family, that is.
So today, my husband and I were feeling bored and adventurous and decided to make a pilgrimage to a posh "Coffee Bar" in our city. We've been meaning to go for months but never got around to it. We pull in the lot and it's packed. 10:45 am on a Sunday, so we expected it. As I'm getting out of the car, the mombie next to me is struggling to get three kids out of their seats while her husband (?) stood by the front of the car watching, not helping.
I hop out and excuse myself and walk into the café with my own husband. Huge line. Two more people come in after us, then mombie and her horde. She immediately starts complaining about the line. She talks loudly to her husband at first, but when he's clearly ignoring her, she decides to just complain to thin air. "Why is this line always so long? God, why don't they have more staff? Why does every person have to come at the same time? UGH!"
She eventually asked the couple in front of her if she can go ahead because her kids are really, really hungry. These saints begrudgingly say sure, so now this delightful family is directly behind my husband and me. She then says to me, "Excuse me miss? May we have the spot before you in line? My children have been waiting a long time and are very hungry."
With the nicest voice I could find, I said, "I'm sorry ma'am, we've been waiting a while too and are also hungry. The line is moving faster now at least!" I gave her a smile even though she was glaring at me. I turn back around only to hear her mutter, "Wow what a witch. Can you believe some people? How rude." It took all my effort to not react.
My husband is a conflict avoider, I am not. But I respect his wishes enough to not cause a scene in public when I'm with him. Eventually, she starts telling her husband how they're always out of the Mediterranean Spinach Breakfast sandwich she wants and she better get it this time or she's gonna so mad. This is when I concoct a seriously evil plan.
I check my watch; it's 10:55. A minute or two later, it's our turn. Husband orders his Soy Chai and I sloooowly order my vanilla nitro cold brew...with cream....no, not cream, sorry, with soy. And an extra pump of vanilla. Barista rings us up as I check my watch. It's 10:58. I ask to add a Mediterranean Spinach Breakfast Sandwich to the order.
She says sure, no problem. Gives us the total. I'm digging in my purse for my wallet, darn, just can't seem to find it. More digging. Oh! There it is, finally. Hand her the card, wait for the receipt, and slowly sign. Pack purse back up, say thank you, and walk away. Husband says, "You're hungry? We ate breakfast an hour ago." Me: "No, I'm not hungry. Just had to do this."
Him: "Do what?" I nod towards mombie. Husband looks over. She orders her coffee and some juice things for the kids, doesn't even ask if her husband wants anything. Then it happened. "And one Mediterranean Spinach Breakfast Sandwich." Barista: "Oh I'm sorry ma'am, we stopped serving breakfast at 11. We have all our lunch options today though."
Mombie looks at her watch and yells "WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? IT'S 11:02!" Barista: "I'm sorry ma'am, company policy is to stop breakfast at 11. Is there anything else I can get you?" Mombie: "GET ME YOUR MANAGER! THIS IS RIDICULOUS. YOU JUST SOLD ONE A MOMENT AGO! THIS IS ABSURD!" The manager came over, explained the situation, apologized, but refused to give that witch a sandwich, bless her heart.
Mombie retracts her entire order and stomps out, red-faced and yelling all the way to her car. My husband was trying to hold back his laughter. Our order came up. We grabbed it and went back to the car. I'm unwrapping the sandwich and take a bite exactly as I'm trying to scoot around her trying to strap her kids in again. I say, "Oh excuse me ma'am, just gonna sneak by ya real quick!"
She’s glaring at me, the worst stare I've ever gotten. I get in the car and unwind the windows ever so slightly. It's hot today, right? I slowly unwrap the rest of the sandwich and take a few more bites, passing it to husband and back while she's screaming and struggling with her kids, getting no help from Daddy. As soon as she pulled away, we burst into laughter. Today was a good day.
My crazy entitled aunt had an annoying habit (one of her many annoying habits) to just storm in when I was changing my clothes. The door would be closed and if it wasn't locked, she would just let herself in. My protests that I may be in a state of undress fell on deaf ears, as did any insistence that she knock before entering, like a civilized human being.
The following incidents happened when I was either 18 or 19 and my aunt and her husband were over for a visit. I was in my room, changing my clothes. My bedroom door had a small defect and it wouldn't lock properly. So anytime it was closed, my dad, stepmom, and stepbrother would either knock or ask if they could come in.
Not entitled aunt, of course. She considered herself above such frivolous courtesies. She could come into rooms as and when she saw fit, and mere mortals would just have to live with it. Unfortunately for her, this mere mortal had had enough of her privacy being invaded. My top was off when I heard the door begin to creak open. I yelled "I'M CHANGING. WAIT OUTSIDE!"
As expected, my aunt didn't listen and was about to stick her head in when I swiftly reached the door, pulled it back a little and slammed it hard into my aunt's thick skull. Not enough to crack her skull, but enough to hurt. My aunt let out a howl that instantly brought a smile to my face. She went downstairs whining. I followed.
She yelled at my dad about what I had done. My dad and uncle were drinking at the time and were uncharacteristically chilled. Dad just looked at her, then looked at me and said something like "Yeah.....don't do that." My uncle just burst out laughing, as if his wife getting her head banged was the funniest thing he had ever heard.
Such dismissal of her grievances was too much to bear for my aunt, and she demanded that they leave immediately. My uncle told her he was in no condition to drive. Besides, he and my dad were going to watch a cricket match, so leaving was out of the question. My aunt then dialed my cousin's number, believing wholeheartedly that her son would come to her aid.
But judging from her end of the conversation, my cousin was out with his friends and wasn't going to drive all the way over to deal with her and her need to get into unnecessary squabbles. My aunt had no options left. She just sat down on the couch while holding an ice pack against her head. Her anger was boiling over but was completely ignored by my "happy" dad and uncle. It was a lovely evening.
I work IT for a small company, and I support about 25 people in total. Anything tech-related is owned by the company, and I am involved in it. I like my job. Most of the folks working here are good people, even though some of them are very difficult to train on computers. This entitled parent is a middle-aged woman who, as far as I can tell, gets paid more than I do to do about 45 minutes of work a day that she stretches into a full 8-hour shift.
She can't really even do that 45 minutes of work correctly most of the time and I've had to come and retrain her on the software we use several times a month. She also refuses to listen when I am helping her with tech issues and has something new to complain to me about every week. I'm told she only got the job because her dad and the owner of the company are old drinking buddies.
Well, as annoying as she is, I was able to mostly ignore her until this incident last week. I am in my office working on something when she comes in with a laptop, some cables, and an iPad. She sets them down on my desk and just looks at me without saying a word. Me: "Uh...what’s all this?" Her: "My son's laptop and my iPad are having trouble. Can you fix them?"
Me: "Sorry, I don't work on personal devices. If it isn't owned by the company I won't work on it. You'll have to go to a shop or something." Her: "Oh come on! You fix this kinda stuff all the time. I bet it takes you 5-10 minutes tops to get them running. Then you can get back to whatever else you wanna fix." Me: “Sorry, not happening."
Her (turning several shades of purple and red at this point): "What the heck is wrong with you?! You sit around all day doing nothing, and when you finally come out of your office, it’s to fix things that you obviously screwed up because you're incompetent! Just fix the things so I can take them home and use them again. I don't know why the boss even keeps you around, you are so useless!"
Me: "Yeah I'm gonna have to ask you to leave my office so I can get back to work." I go back to working on things and she grabs her stuff and storms out, slamming my door behind her. I get a call about 20 minutes later from the owner asking why she was demanding I be fired. She had told him that I had laughed in her face and refused to help her.
She even said I threatened to never help her with IT problems at work again because I was mad. She called me out on being lazy. I explained what actually happened and offered to send him a copy of the camera footage of the entire incident since there is a camera overlooking my entire office. The owner requested the footage so I sent it to him.
I get in the next day and I realize the entitled woman isn't there. I ask around and apparently, the owner called her into his office and spoke with her about the incident. She tried to double down on her lies when he showed her the footage, including audio. It sealed her fate and caught her in the lie...He then offered to let her take some time off to cool her head before coming back to work, but that he'd expect her to make an apology to me for her behavior.
This enraged her. Everyone could hear her even through closed doors, screaming about how awful a person I was. She then stormed out of his office, grabbed her things, and shouted “I QUIT" before leaving. So, she's gone for good. She is so unwilling to own up to her own poor behavior and apologize to me that she threw away a cushy job making way more money than she is likely to make anywhere else around here.
What an idiot. On the plus side, without her here constantly complaining, I am getting a bit more work done each day.
As a child I was enrolled in a Washington DC private school, so kids of politicians, diplomats, lawyers, doctors, etc. all went there. The school charged an insane amount for tuition, expected parents to pay thousands extra in fees/donations, and took the kids on their choice of four two-week trips: Art in Europe, Skiing in New Hampshire, Scuba Diving, or Biology in Australia.
These were every year and cost tens of thousands. One girls' mom bought a darkroom and camera equipment for the school so her daughter could learn photography. Long story short, these parents and their kids were beyond entitled. My parents could afford my tuition, but that was a stretch for them so we weren't viewed as being especially valuable to the school.
My school was taking each grade on a three-day trip that got us psyched up all year. The teacher asked each child to list their top five choices for roommates. The week before the trip, my mom got a call from the principal. I was nosy so I picked up too and listened in on the conversation. What I heard broke my heart in a million pieces.
Basically, she said: "None of the kids want your daughter in their cabin. They don't like her. We suggested that it would be a nice thing to do, but the parents didn't think their children should be forced to be with someone they dislike. We don't have enough cabins to put her in one by herself, so you should just keep her home."
Just to clarify, I was not a bad kid. I got fairly good grades. I was shy. I was quiet and dressed like a nerd because I didn't know better. Girls in my class were already wearing makeup and had a very clear-cut "code of coolness" that I just didn't understand. I was devastated. Nine years old, completely heartbroken, in tears. They "didn't want their children to be uncomfortable."
But it’s ok for any nine-year-old girl to know that no one likes her and her school doesn't care how she feels? I refused to go back to school. I was so ashamed, I felt shattered and stupid and worthless. That was the beginning of a downslide into depression. Those kids had told me for years that I was worthless, stupid, ugly, and one year I did a report on being adopted, and let me tell you, the kids had a field day with that.
But the realization that not one single person was in my corner, not even the teachers—it just broke me. I believed them all, I was worthless. At age 12, my parents put me in an intense residential treatment program for depression, anxiety, and other things. I am now 35 and I have a good life, wonderful friends, great kids, and I foster all kinds of abandoned and unwanted animals.
I know the value of kindness and try to help others every chance I get. Life is good, I am loved and I am happy, but I still get choked up thinking back to that phone call.
I have seen a lot of crazy people in the course of my life, but my potential mother-in-law is the absolute worst person I have ever met. I have been with my boyfriend for eight months now, and we’re both in our 30s. For the first few months, everything was amazing. He is the sweetest and most caring man I have ever been with, bar none.
He likes to surprise me with fun dates and flowers for no apparent reason. The biggest surprise of all, though, was when I met his mother. I met his parents for the first time a few months ago. The first thing his mother said to me when I walked in the door was “are you Jewish?” I am not and I am not particularly religious, but I was raised Catholic.
Once I told her this, it was the beginning of the madness. She immediately stopped talking to me and acted as if I didn’t exist. I was extremely nervous about meeting my boyfriend’s parents, so this broke my heart. I was determined to make a good impression, so I kept trying to connect with her. This was a huge mistake and I should have just let it go.
Once we were all seated for dinner, she finally decided to try and make conversation. I have naturally red hair and she asked me if my parents have the same color. I told her that I have the same hair as my mother. She then had the audacity to ask me, “Does the carpet match the drapes?” I had no idea how to respond and just sat there, stunned.
Seeing my reaction, she said, “Don’t worry I will just ask my son about it later.” I looked over at my boyfriend who seemed equally as shocked, but he didn’t say anything. She then started to go on about my hair being “too curly.” She told me that I really need to learn how to run a brush through my hair and think about my appearance more when I am out with her son.
Then when I didn’t eat much at dinner, she gave me her version of a compliment. I was told it was good that I am watching what I eat because it would be a shame if I got any bigger. This was just my first meeting with this woman. As soon as I got into my car, I burst into tears until I got home. My boyfriend was texting me and apologizing for his mother’s behavior, but the damage was done.
I told him I needed time to think. He went into apology overload after this and started sending flowers to my office every day and leaving me messages begging me to talk to him. I finally agreed and we went out to dinner. He told me he spoke with his mother about her inappropriate comments and he swore it would never happen again.
With this reassurance, I decided to give it another chance. Fast forward two weeks to when he invited me to come to a family birthday party. This time I would also be meeting his sisters and grandparents. His grandparents and sisters are awesome people. They asked me normal questions about my job, family, and friends. His mother seemed to be avoiding me throughout the evening and honestly, I was okay with that.
I went to grab something from my purse and noticed that it was not where I left it. I looked everywhere but I could not find it. I went and asked my boyfriend and he began to help me look. He then got a strange look on his face and he quickly went upstairs. I could then hear a lot of yelling begin upstairs. He came back down holding my purse after a few minutes and told me that we were leaving.
Once we got in the car, I asked him what was going on. Apparently, his mother had taken my purse so that she could see my driver’s license. She intended to try and run a background check on me. He told me she had told him this earlier but honestly had thought she was joking. I thought that it was best if I avoided any of his family functions for the time being.
This worked out great for a while and he went to any of his family parties alone. He would ask me each time before leaving if I was sure that I didn’t want to go, but I always declined. Last week, his family had their family reunion and he asked me to please come with him. I was very reluctant but considering there would be so many people present, I didn’t think she would pull anything.
When we got there, everything was going great. I met his extended family and got to catch up with his sisters. His mother did seem to be shooting me glares all night, but I brushed it off. Soon she came over and joined a table I was seated at with his sisters and some cousins. The conversation was pleasant as we were talking about his sisters’ children.
His sister has a daughter who is 12 and is the same age as my niece. I then showed his sister a picture of my niece on my phone. His mother took a look at the screen and began to laugh. She told me she hopes that if her son and I ever have children that they don’t look like my niece. My niece is beautiful by the way, and she is only 12 years old.
What kind of monster attacks a 12-year-old child’s appearance? This was my breaking point and I went off like a volcano. I started to scream at her and told her she is the evilest person I have ever had to misfortune to meet. I told her if I ever did have children with her son, she can be certain she will never meet them, I’d make sure of that.
I am not 100% certain of exactly everything that I said, but from what his younger sister later said, “It was epic.” His mom began to play the victim and wailed that I had just misunderstood her joke. My boyfriend came rushing over at this point and she threw herself into his arms, telling him I am a horrible woman and he needed to throw me out right now.
He told her that wasn’t going to happen and to stop making a fool of herself. She seemed to accept this for a moment and sat back down. She just kept sobbing that I just didn’t understand how to take a joke. Then something in her snapped as she noticed something that my boyfriend was holding in his hand. She began to have another meltdown.
I didn’t understand what was happening at this point and just stood there watching a grown woman pitch a fit like a toddler. None of what she was saying made any sense to me as it was mostly just incoherent screaming, but I did pick up on many derogatory comments directed my way. My boyfriend then told me we were leaving and to grab my things.
As I started to get ready, she made a lunge for my boyfriend’s hand and grabbed the small box he was holding. She looked me in the eyes and said, “You will never have this ring you little witch.” She ran outside and threw the box down a storm drain. Turns out that my boyfriend was intending on proposing to me. He had just obtained his grandmother’s ring while we were at the reunion.
His grandmother is completely heartbroken because now her ring is down a storm drain instead of continuing on in the family as she had always wanted. I don’t know where to go from here. I am devastated, confused, and exhausted.
When I was first married, money wasn’t that easy to come by, as I had a form of leukemia that took up most of our money. Due to this, we couldn’t just spend money like we wanted to. God bless my husband for being such a sweetheart. We were only in our early 20s and he still pushed through this for us. December 23rd is my mother’s birthday.
She is an awful person, by the way. For example, she tried to get me pregnant at 14 because she wanted more money from the state, but that’s an entirely different story. As this was 20 years ago, we didn’t really have the same type of cell phones we have today, so I didn’t know until I got home from cancer treatment that my mom had called me multiple times.
Three minutes later (I counted) she shows up at the door. She asks for her money. Both of us are confused, of course. Apparently, she wants her birthday money, which I’ve never given before to her. In fact, she wanted 608 dollars. That exact amount. When I told her no, we can’t afford that, she lost it. Screaming at me, calling me an entitled witch.
She gave birth to me so I should do what she says. And then I say I’m an adult and I don’t have to listen. After all, I was angry and tired and I just threw up a few minutes ago. This set her off. She grabbed a kitchen knife and ran at me, while my husband is trying to hold her back. She got me right between two ribs, but didn’t pierce any organs, thank God.
I don’t know what happened in my husband’s mind at this point, but he snapped. He broke her arm backward in a rage while screaming something I don’t even think was a human language. He called the authorities and she was detained while I was taken to the hospital. She got sentenced to seven years, while I moved out and moved to Louisiana.
I am 17 and live in the UK, and this happened around December of last year in a Lidl, which is a grocery store. My mom asked me to go grocery shopping because she was quite busy with something and I agreed to go. I spent around 10 minutes at the Lidl looking for things on the shopping list. While there, I decided to get a treat for myself because why not.
I got some Fin Carré chocolate and made my way to the till. I was standing in line while using my phone just minding my business until this overly loud parent with her very hyperactive kid, who looked around eight, came behind me in the line. Mother: "You wouldn't mind letting us go in front of you, would you?" I looked down on her cart, which seemed to be a lot more full than mine.
Still, I decided I'm not in a rush, and I replied "sure" and subtly smiled. She thanked me and went on to go in front of me. My impression of this woman seemed normal…until this happened. The kid said as he was pointing to my cart: "Mom, look it's that chocolate that you promised me to buy next time we go shopping." Mom: "Oh yes darling I just remembered."
She then looked up to me and said, "May I grab the chocolate bar? The little one's been eager to get it." Now, this chocolate is somewhat far from the tills in this location, so getting a new chocolate bar for myself would've been a chore. I replied: "I'm sorry I don't think I can give you the chocolate, it's quite far from the tills."
Her smile quickly turned into a stare and she said in a loud voice: "Right, I don't care how far this chocolate is from here, someone like you is more than capable of getting a new bar, so stop making George cross!" I replied: "I don't care how capable I am, I'm not going anywhere and this chocolate is staying in the cart." Now, there was a lot going through my head at this point, but I remember how the kid was reaching inside my cart, trying to grab the chocolate.
I quickly grabbed it myself and held it in my hand. Kid: "Mom, the guy took the chocolate!" Mom: "Right, I've had enough.” This woman literally reached to my hand to grab the chocolate, but I moved in time and decided to go directly to the cashier and ask him to call a manager. The cashier seemed to have witnessed everything and informed the manager about what happened.
After no more than two minutes of me awkwardly standing, the manager arrives. She walks up to the mother and quietly asks her to leave. However, the mother kept trying to incriminate me somehow until she finally paid for her groceries and left. Me, the cashier, and the manager all had a laugh about it after she left. Now that I think about it, that scene wasn't worth a chocolate bar, but oh well.
So I was standing in line at the checkout at my local supermarket. It was a SUPER heatwave around this time, just scorching outside. I think in total I had about 10 items, some frozen goods, drinks, and snacks. While in line, I usually tend to take out one of the buds of my earphones in case someone calls out to me. At this time, the woman at the cash register was taking care of the payment of one client.
There was one person in front of me, and then suddenly she appeared—the entitled mother. Now honestly, she didn't look it. She didn't even give off a mean vibe or anything. Even the way she started talking to me was overall nice and polite, AT FIRST. "Excuse me, do you mind if I skip ahead? I'm in a hurry.” Now in general if somebody politely asks me this and I don't have any urgent business of my own, I usually don't mind.
This time, however, I didn't have that many groceries, so her delay would be at most a few minutes, while she was pushing a fully loaded shopping cart in front of her. If I would have let her skip, I'd probably still be in the store for another 10-20 minutes. So I politely decline and tell her I will hurry as much as I can. Of course, this was a great offense; I hadn’t given this woman what she was entitled to. She blew up instantly.
Yelling and screaming at me that she was in a hurry and (not kidding here) had to be home in time for her shows. This is important a bit later. Now while this woman was going off, the person at the cash register went into ignore mode and just started scanning my groceries, which I loaded into a bag while she was going on about how I was garbage and they should me ban me from the store.
This should have been the end of it, but then she said something that made me almost want to throttle her. While I was walking away, just about to put the earbud back in, she yells, "If you pass by my car, tell my son he's the reason he has to wait another half an hour for me." Now I'm not an extremely smart person, but in this moment my brain made some connections quickly.
What I realized was this: One, it was very hot outside. Two, this woman had been in the store for a while, judging by the number of her groceries. Three, the entire parking lot of this store had almost no shade. Four, it was about 2 pm, so the sun was just over its peak. I rush outside and start running past cars, scanning them for kids inside.
Thankfully, one of the first cars I pass has a small child laying in the back seat. This kid is as pale as a ghost, sweating like crazy, and it looked like he was only half-conscious. I run back inside, and to my utter astonishment, this witch is having a conversation with the cashier while she's checking out her groceries. I grab her by the shoulders, spin her around, and yell almost straight to her face that her kid is literally dying in the car.
At first, she looked at me in complete confusion, probably never having been spoken to like that before in her life. Then the realization of what I told her sunk in and she rushed outside. While she went outside, a man tapped me on the shoulder and asked what had happened. I explained the situation but left out some details, just saying I saw the kid in the car and knew that this woman was probably the owner.
He went outside and when I came outside, the mother suddenly rushed me and got in my face, saying I was the reason she was in the store for so long and her son's current condition was my fault. Before I can even respond, the man that approached me earlier speaks up. Turns out, this man was an off-duty officer and had been in the store for a while.
As a result, he knew that the actual delay I “caused” could have not caused this. He also said he had already called an ambulance for the kid and the authorities for her. I don't know what happened to the woman, but she completely crashed. She just sat down on the pavement and started shaking her head, not saying much except the occasional sob or "not my fault."
As for the ending: everything turned out okay for most parties. I stayed a while to give a statement and my contact information in case it went to court. The kid was okay (afterward) and since his mom got detained, they called his dad or another male family member (I didn't ask) to accompany him to the hospital. As for the mother, I'm assuming she is going to have to stand trial for child endangerment.
This story is from a few years ago when I worked in the legal department of a 1,000+ store national retailer. As part of my job, I handled customer complaints that elevated when the customer threatened court action. The cast is very simple: Our customer service call center forwarded this entitled mom’s call to me after she threatened action.
This woman left a message claiming that she was not provided $10 in customer reward coupons through the mail based on her purchase of clothing for her son and daughter for back to school. I looked into it and called her back. It turned out we had an old address associated with her rewards account. No big deal, right? I spoke with her and offered to send her the original $10 coupon and an additional $25 for her trouble to the correct address.
That did not satisfy her. She claimed we should have known her address and threatened to sue us if we didn't pay her $1,000 in cash. Her rationale was that it would cost us at least $1,000 to defend the suit, so we should just pay it to her. I declined, but still forwarded her the $10 coupon she was entitled to based on our rewards program.
Sure enough, she sued us for breach of contract and any other conceivable charge. I went to my boss, the COO, and told him the story. He asked what I wanted to do. I said I'd rather pay fees to a defense attorney than pay her, and he agreed. I contacted this attorney, explained the situation to him, and I kid you not he said (in a Southern drawl): "I get to sue her? I should be paying you guys.”
Yep, he knew her. As he said, “There are a lot of lawyers in this community who would love to sue her as she is reckless, unpleasant, and a total pain in the butt to deal with. I'll gladly take your case." This is how I knew it was going to be good: He even agreed to defend us at a reduced rate. Part of our defense strategy was to counter-sue her under the state's frivolous lawsuit statute, which would move the suit from small claims court to the larger civil court.
The lawyer filed our answer and counter-claim. Although this entitled woman was also an attorney, she was not a defense attorney, so she had to engage her own attorney to defend against the counter-claim. After a couple of hearings, she offered to settle for no more money exchanged (she didn't even get the extra $25 coupon I offered her), and the dismissal of both suits.
I talked with our lawyer about continuing our claim, but he advised it would probably be worth settling and being done with it rather than being vindictive. Although vindictive would have been fun, courts tend not to like that, that so I agreed. My company ended up paying him $900 in attorneys' fees, but he later called and told us that the attorney she engaged had charged her $1,700 to defend the suit.
Although I would have liked to continue with our suit, I think her having to pay $1,700 over a $10 coupon sent to the wrong address is sufficient justice for this woman.
This is really about an entire entitled family. My fiancé, Nathan, passed very unexpectedly in 2016, at the age of 35. I was 26 at the time. We lived together in a house on a few acres; I'd lived there for a couple of years, and he had lived there most of his life. His grandfather built the house, and when his grandparents died, the house was willed to their six children, one of whom was Nathan's mother.
When his mother passed, her share was willed to Nathan and his two siblings, so he was a partial owner of the home. His aunt, Rita, also lived there. She was mentally unstable in many ways I won't get into, except to say that she was a serious hoarder. Consequently, the house was in disrepair. Honestly, it was not fit to be lived in and could've easily been condemned, but it was a rough time. Please spare your judgment if you can.
Nathan and I were in the process of getting an apartment when he died. Since Nathan and Rita were the only partial owners living there, they paid all the property taxes and repairs, etc. (I contributed too after I moved in.) It's not like Nathan and I were just squatting there or something. A couple of months before he passed, Rita had some health issues that resulted in her being hospitalized and then moving into an apartment.
That's when the entitled family—aunts, uncles, and cousins—swooped in and started demanding that we move out so they could sell the property. Okay, fine. We were planning on moving anyway. They were really unrealistic about the timeline, though. At one point they insisted that since we were low-income, all we needed to do was contact “The Government” (they weren't sure what department), and they'd just give us a small house and some land.
That's how out of touch with reality these people were. They'd just show up in the house whenever they wanted, which I guess was their right, but it's also pretty rude and entitled to just come into someone's home on a regular basis without even speaking to them while you're there, much less letting them know beforehand. Anyway, when Nathan passed, they were unabashedly elated.
Two days afterward, I was at the house collecting some of my things when I got a text from his sister Anna (who is an angel) saying that they'd messaged his out-of-state uncle's wife, asking her to message Anna about me because God forbid anyone be direct. Apparently, they wanted me banned from the property immediately. See, we'd been "living in sin," and now that he was gone, I had no reason or right to be there. I was devastated.
At that point, I wanted to take everything he'd ever touched and scoop it up and hold it close to me forever. I couldn't bear the thought of not being able to have anything of his. As an afterthought, I realized all of MY stuff was also still there. Luckily, Anna stuck up for me and said I could be there as long as I wanted. She lives across the country though, so she couldn't do much to enforce it. The most egregious display of disgusting entitlement happened a couple of days later.
I was at the house, frantically trying to load up the car with the things that made up the life that Nathan and I shared together, which was taxing both physically and emotionally. I was crying when his cousin Erica appeared in our bedroom. Erica: smiling like I'm an old friend she just ran into at Costco HEY! Isn't this CRAZY? Nathan died so suddenly! He was fine a few days ago! (He died of either sepsis or a pulmonary embolism. The hospital said one thing, the examiner said another.)
Me: through tears Yeah. It was very unexpected. Erica: laughing I know! Well, at least we can sell this dump now. It's then that I hear people talking and laughing in the next room. Apparently, Erica had brought her teenage daughter and several of her daughter's friends to gawk at the house. Our home, where we lived and loved, was being openly mocked with zero regard for my feelings.
Erica: So when do you think you'll be gone? Me: I'm not sure. I'd like to get as much of his stuff as possible, and Anna asked me to get some of their mom's things. Erica: frowning Well, I guess I'll have to talk to Anna about that. Their mom is the reason this place is so run down, you know. laughing again I don't see why Anna would want any of this garbage!
Note that this is blatantly false, as the house had been in pristine condition until Nathan's mother passed and Rita's hoarding worsened to the point that Nathan could not keep up with it. Also, there were plenty of keepsakes and heirlooms that were not at all "garbage." I'm sort of dumbfounded by this whole exchange and way too emotionally drained to deal with it, so I just get back to what I was doing.
Later that night, Erica's sister messaged me asking what I'd done with Rita's box of plastic horses because Rita wanted them back immediately. Of course, I had not taken it. Why would I want a box of plastic horses? (Hint: I would not.) I elected not to reply. After that, they got more aggressive about me not being there because I was a plastic horse thief.
Nathan was an artist by trade, and they started just throwing away all of his drawings and taking some of the more valuable figurines he had. The last day I was there, my mom went with me. After getting the last of what I could, I just wanted to walk around the house one last time and sort of say goodbye to the place we'd spent so much time together in, a place I'd never be again.
Of course, the family showed up, and my mom tried to calmly explain that I would be out soon and would not return. She tried to appeal to their sense of humanity by explaining how traumatized I was and how I just needed this for some semblance of closure. Their response was chilling. His aunt got in her face and lectured her about how Nathan was in hell and I'd be going there too.
Then my mom, who somehow managed not to knock her teeth out, reminded her that Anna had told me I could be there. The aunt responded by calling the authorities to have me forcibly removed. We left before they arrived, and now that's my final memory of the place where the most amazing man I've ever known taught me how to love.
I usually sleep in my underwear during summer since it gets hot in my house, and I also have curtains in my windows. So one day I woke up and made myself a bowl of cereal since I was home alone. I walk past my window to the kitchen when I hear a knock on the door. I'm still only in my underwear, so I hurry and get some shorts on. I open the door and see this entitled mother and her daughter.
Mother: HOW DARE YOU WALK AROUND IN YOUR UNDERWEAR Me: Uh….I’m in my own house and I had the window closed with the curtain down? Mother: MY DAUGHTER GOT CURIOUS AND PEEKED THROUGH YOUR WINDOW AND SAW YOU IN YOUR UNDERWEAR. Me (stunned into silence for a bit): Well, it's my house, and I can be as naked as I want to be. And then I shut the door in their faces.
So I’m from Germany and we have some WWII museums in different places to remind us of the horror and inform visitors of what happened in the specific area of Germany they’re visiting. I was visiting one once when I heard a child cry. Not a baby that didn’t know better, but a toddler. They sounded genuinely upset. Enter: Entitled mom.
I hear her loudly complain about a video and how this isn’t “child friendly” at all. Now first of all, in these museums it’s SUPER quiet, obviously. Second of all, they are not supposed to be child-friendly. They show raw, horrible pictures that show a brutal truth, and most adults are left speechless. It really can turn your stomach sometimes.
Employee: I’m really sorry it upset her...This museum is suggested for ages 14 and up. Mother: Then how is she supposed to LEARN?! Now, that kid was three years old, max. You can maybe talk to them about this stuff, but these museums are clearly not for kids, and it even says so on the website.
I own a Jeep that’s fully built, has a lift kit, the whole shebang. One day I'm coming home from work. It's a summer day so the roof is off and I'm having some open-top fun. I stop at a red light and suddenly screeeeech BANG! I drive forward slightly and go back to assess the damage, and lo and behold it's a Mercedes C class, a new one at that.
It was completely destroyed from the front, and my beautiful Jeep had no damage apart from a few scratches. I went to check on the passenger of the Mercedes and got her out of the car. Under a minute after she's out of the car, she starts screaming about how I wrecked HER car. I told her calmly that she was the one who rammed into me.
I don’t think she understood how my hitting her would be impossible. In any case, I offer to share our insurance details because I knew that Mercedes damage doesn't come cheap, but she said she didn't have insurance. Instead, she insisted that I pay her 10k cash. How she got this number? I don't know. I said that was just plain wrong as first, she hit me, and second, it's her fault for not having insurance.
She then went on a ramble on how her kids needed the money and now her kids will have to starve because she will have to pay to fix her car and how it will all be my fault when they are on the street tomorrow…blah blah blah. Yeah, on the street with a Mercedes. She then said she would call the authorities if I didn’t pay her. This was still incredibly stupid, so I still refused.
So then she called the cops..............yeah. Officers came, assessed the damage, and asked us what happened. She said and I quote, "He backed into me at full speed on a red light." Then they asked me what happened and I told them, and it became a he said, she said situation. Luckily, a shopkeeper was there and saw the whole thing and even captured it on a surveillance camera.
Needless to say, I came out on top. The officers got her for reckless driving and driving without insurance. She then started yelling at them about how they would just let me get away. They explained that I did nothing wrong and that they now had video evidence of that fact. Eventually, they let me go from the scene and I got in my Jeep and left.
My daughter's friend from school came home with her one day. They were doing girlie stuff that normal 14-year-olds do—makeup, nails, etc. I hear a blood-curdling scream and run upstairs expecting the worst. I open the bathroom door and the girl is on the toilet with blood on her toilet paper. I was like...Ok, she started her period. Nothing too crazy.
My daughter and I sit her down and I explain why we have periods and what that means for her from now on. We hug her and congratulate her on this next step of her life. Afterward, we go get her supplies from the store and grab ice cream. She is all calmed down and feeling special at this point. I took her home and thought it was strange her parents never mentioned anything to her about any of this.
She was 14 after all. It was bound to happen sooner or later. About an hour later, I receive a call from her livid mother, who berates me for have the audacity to tell her daughter about those private things. She said that she was supposed to learn those things on her own just like she, the mom, had to. I was completely stunned! She had no intention of explaining anything to her daughter.
She then said the girls couldn't be friends anymore. Her daughter would still come over without the parents knowing and still calls me to this day (six years later) for guidance in her life.
Today I had to take my dog to the vet for her semi-annual blood test. Oddly enough, she absolutely loves going to the vet and was super excited to go play with all the techs. Afterward, we walked to the pet store just down the street because she's definitely on the nice list and deserves a new toy for Christmas. Now my dog is an Akita, so she's pretty big and I understand that she's a little scary-looking.
She's also super gentle and seems to understand that kids especially can be intimidated by her, so when she sees new people she won't run up to them but she will get excited and start wagging her tail, which is adorable because it's a curly cinnamon roll. As a result, I don't feel the need to do anything like pull her away from scared people.
I honestly think that only makes things worse because she'll always wait for them to come up to her anyways. So we walk into the store and it's pretty quiet. We are just heading towards dog toys and my dog is laser-focused on the table of treats. A mom and her kid walk past and he points to my dog and calls it a wolf. The mom then stops me and the following conversation happened.
Lady: Excuse me! That breed is banned, you can't bring it in here. Me: I'm pretty sure the store doesn't have a banned breed list. It's a pet store. Lady: That's a wolf hybrid and it's scaring my kid! You need to leave. Me: I'm sorry your kid is afraid of dogs, but she's not a wolf-hybrid and she's not bothering you. This whole time, we're still standing next to the treat table so the dog hasn't moved an inch closer to them.
She's just staring at the food with her tail wagging. Lady: My son is scared! You two need to leave! Me: No. At this point, my dog decided that these must be new friends. She took a step towards them with her tail still wagging at top speed. She stretched her head towards them, though they were still two or three feet away, to ask for pets.
The kid was just frozen, staring. The mother just picked up her kid and walked the other way. I just grinned and we went to look at dog toys. When I went to check out, the cashier told me the lady had complained about my "wolf-hybrid" and they had to tell her that all dogs who aren't acting aggressively are more than welcome in the store.
The lady was ignored and my good girl got two treats from the nice worker.
"Hi, we were thinking about opening up a kid-free café." "WHAAAAT!?! THAT'S DISCRIMINATION!!!!" Yep, in my city of a million+ population and hundreds of places where you can bring your kids, one cafe wanted to open up with a kid-free policy. That seemed like such a great idea to me since I hate kids. I understand that many people don't, probably even most people, but I know there are others like me who want to have a coffee in peace.
But nope. Parents went wild with fury and reported the café for discrimination. They had to change their policy. Now there are a total of zero cafés with a kid-free policy and hundreds where you risk having to sit next to a screaming, crying, messy kid, strollers blocking the spaces between the tables, and parents drinking lattes while not caring about their children causing a ruckus.
Seriously, one cafe! Was that too much to ask for?
This happened about five years ago when I was working as a newly qualified social worker. It had been a rough morning and long story short, I had spit and vomit on me. As pretty standard practice, I kept a spare set of court clothes in my car so I had something to change into, but I felt pretty disgusting and wanted a shower. So I took an early lunch and went to my gym nearby the office to shower and change.
I showered, came out and put my hair up into a towel turban, and walked toward the lockers. The changing area was empty except for one kid, a boy about eight or nine. A bit weird for him to be alone, but I assumed his mom must’ve been in the only occupied stall so I didn’t think too much of it. I smiled to acknowledge him and got to my locker to grab my things to change into.
At this point, the boy looked at me, pointed at my towel turban, and said: “What’s that?” Me: Oh it’s a towel turban, pretty neat huh? It stays up better than a regular towel. Boy: Cool. And he started to reach for my head. Me: Excuse me, what are you doing? Boy: I just want to see it. Me: Err, no I’m using it, sorry. At this point in my life, I’m pretty used to kids being a bit inappropriate, and it’s my job to make sure they understand, but I wasn’t expecting it here.
He looked a bit angry but went back to his (mom’s?) phone. I get dressed quickly and get my things to go over to the mirror and take the turban off to hairdryer my hair. I’m flipping my hair around to get it dried and I notice that this kid comes up to the mirror, then leaves again. I think nothing of it, and finish drying my hair, turn the hairdryer off, reach for my turban...and it isn’t there.
I know what he’s done, and I whip around and look at him. He’s turning a shade of red but staring fixedly on his phone so as to ignore me. I’m trying to remain calm, but Christ I’ve been spat at, vomited on, and now someone has taken my towel turban?! I walk back over and do my best “I’ve had enough of this” voice and say “Please return the turban. Now.”
He keeps ignoring me, so I repeat, “Please return the turban. Now.” He’s gone a huge shade of red, refuses to look at me, and mumbles something like “I didn’t take it.” I’ve had it at this point, so go over to the only occupied stall and knock on the door “Excuse me, is this your son out here?” The entitled mother opens the door and looks at me, thoroughly annoyed.
Her: What? Me: Is this your son? He has taken my towel turban, I have asked for it back, but he is not returning it. Please ask him to hand it back, and I’ll not inform the gym staff. Her: What the heck is a towel turban? I start to explain, but the boy says, “It’s a hair towel that stays up better than a normal towel!” We both look at him, and the mom says: Ok... so what do you want?
Me: I want my towel turban back please. Her: Well, he wouldn’t just take something, you obviously just lost it. You shouldn’t go around accusing people because you lose things! Me: (getting annoyed) Well, he will have no problem then emptying his bag. If he has it, he can just hand it back and if I’m mistaken, I will apologize. The mom looks at the kid, and it’s obvious to anyone that he’s lying.
She just says: Don’t be stupid, I’m not letting you rummage through his things like he’s some kind of thief! Look at you, you are harassing a little boy in a changing room! I inhale to try and stop my eyes from doing a 360-degree roll. Me: I’m not asking to touch anything. I’m asking for you to go through his bag for my turban. That is all. If you are not willing, I will go to the staff and ask them to sort this out.
I know it’s just a freaking towel turban, but theft is theft, and it’s pink and cute, so I’m not letting anyone have it. Her: So you’re threatening me now?! I know a circular argument when I hear one, so I go to the door, lean out and call for someone to come and sort it out. Enter gym trainer dude. Trainer: What’s going on? He looks between the three of us and the kid has gone back to staring a hole through the phone and the mother positions herself between the trainer and the kid.
Her: This crazy witch is harassing my son and trying to go through his bag! She needs throwing out! She... Me: That isn’t what happened. Her son has taken my towel turban, and I would like it returned. I just keep looking at this kid, and the trainer says: Ok, so what happened? Did you take the towel?
The kid mumbles something about how I must’ve lost it and the mother jumps in and says: See? He didn’t take it, he’s so traumatized he can barely say anything! She then bends down to him and hugs him saying, “It’ll be alright” and she “Won’t let me get away with this” verrrrrrry dramatically. I look at the trainer and explain the whole event.
He says: Ok, so, why don’t we just check his bag? The kid starts dramatically wailing and the mother starts ranting about how this is harassment. The trainer looks uncomfortable and says, “That’s literally the only way I think I can solve this.” The mother then stands up and tries to push past me, but I’m not moving and the room is small, so she fails.
She starts swearing and thrusts the kid's backpack at the trainer. Her: Fine! Check it! He hasn’t taken it, and when you don’t find it, I want her thrown out! The kid wails. The trainer obviously finds the pink, wet turban towel in the bag. He picks it up and kind of just looks at it. The kid wails even more and tries to grab it, but the trainer holds it out of his reach.
Trainer: Right, so...so...this is yours? Me: yes, Thank you. I stuff the coveted turban towel into my bag and get out my car keys and ID lanyard. As I put the lanyard over my head, something practically audibly clicked in the mother’s head: That’s a social worker ID. She yanks the kid’s arm, snatches the bag from the trainer, and I move to let her pass.
The trainer looks super confused and I explain that she must’ve just been embarrassed that her son took my turban. But I knew she was panicking because she realized what my job was and that her son was out of school, taking pink, wet turban towels.
Today I crossed paths with the MegaKaren and, although she seriously disrupted my day, I'm kind of tickled to tell this story. I work in an office building with about three dozen companies operating on the premises, and because of the odd layout of the building we have six different parking lots. I prefer using the "hidden" lot that requires you to drive through one of the indoor lots to reach it.
Between being hard to find and all of the spots being marked "Compact," this place is usually less crowded than some of the lots closer to the road, not to mention that the door into the building from that lot is right next to my office, so it's convenient in every way for me personally. Today, it was raining cats and dogs when I arrived at the office.
For some reason, my normal lot was unusually full, however, someone pulled out of a prime space just as I arrived, giving me a much shorter walk through the wetness to reach the door. I exchange polite nods with the guy leaving, then pull into the space behind him. As I'm getting out of my car and grabbing my laptop bag out of the back, I hear some distant car horn honking.
I think nothing of it since it's practically on the other side of the lot. When I turn around to head inside, though, this entitled mother rolls up in an oversized SUV and slides to a stop on the wet pavement between me and the building, splashing me with a bit of puddle in the process. Her: "That spot wasn't for you!" Me: "Excuse me?" Her: "That parking spot! I was waiting for it and you took it from me!"
Me (now irritated): "Where were you waiting for it? The highway off-ramp?" Her: "NO! I've been looking for a parking spot for 20 minutes, and when one comes open it's for the first person waiting!" At this point, I look up and take stock of the whole row of empty spaces she had ignored to come over and harass me about taking "her" space.
I also consider the fact that the claim she's making—that whoever was waiting first gets the first available space—is not now, nor has it ever been, a real point of etiquette. Me: (gesturing): "There are plenty over there that were open before I even got here. Take your pick." Her: "NO! I need THAT spot! You need to move, NOW!" Me: "Why on earth do you have to have THIS spot?"
Her (gesturing to the back seat): "So my baby doesn't get wet walking from all the way over there!" I look in the back seat, and the kid looking back at me was easily 10-12 years old. Also, "over there" couldn't have been more than 50 feet further to walk in the rain. Kid: "'Sup?" Me: "That's not a baby. He'll be fine. And anyway, your car wouldn't fit in this COMPACT spot."
I move and point so she can read the six-inch tall letters marking the spot as smaller than average. Me: "But if you go around that side of the building, there's another lot that isn't compact spaces." Her: "Whatever, are you gonna move or not? Your fat butt needs the extra exercise anyway." Me: (already cranky because I hadn't eaten yet, now angry that this orangutan in lipstick is talking to me this way): "Well I'm definitely not moving for such a colossal witch. Have fun walking in the rain, I hope you get struck by lightning."
I quickly walked away while this charming example of humanity hurled insults after me. Now, admittedly, about 15 minutes later once I was settled in at my desk, I started feeling really bad that I'd told this woman I hope she gets struck by lightning, even if there was no lightning going on in that rainstorm. I continued to feel bad for all of five minutes when the sound of a car alarm caused me to go to the window and look out. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
This woman had parked somewhere, gotten out of the car, and was now keying the heck out of my driver's side door while her kid recorded it on his phone. I took a quick picture of them in the act on my own phone and immediately called building security to tell them what was going on. So guess who got apprehended for destruction of property and assault?
Oh, right, she also spit on and scratched the security guard who went to confront her, so assault. And everything that went down from beginning to end was practically right under a security camera, so it got a good look at her, her kid, and her car (including her license plate) so no way she's getting away with it. AND since the insult she etched into my car door is homophobic she may ALSO get charged for that.
I’m a femboy, which means that I’m a man who acts more feminine and in most occasions wears women’s clothing and such. One day, my boyfriend and I decided to go on a cruise vacation. We drove from our apartment early in the morning, since we live quite a ways from the harbor where we were going to sail from. It takes about 3-4 hours to drive.
I am totally not a morning person, but my boyfriend was completely zonked that morning from work, so I decided to drive so he could sleep some more. We got there about 30 minutes before departure so we parked the car and went out to smoke. I was ready to drop, I was that exhausted. I was so excited about our trip that I didn't get much sleep that night.
But we finished up, got our bags, and walked over to the check-in. Enter the witch and her little brat. Her: Move over, my son and I NEED to check in right now. We moved over since it wasn’t our first encounter with a woman like this. She finished checking in her son and herself so we got back to the counter and finished up as well.
All the while, we talked with the woman behind the counter about entitled parents. We got aboard and went looking for our cabin. It had a nice double bed, big TV on the wall, a nice view, etc. We packed out our luggage and settled in. We turned on the TV and watched Smokey and the Bandit while waiting for the announcement that we were departing.
When it came, we went up to the adult zone (one of the upper decks next to the bar) and who do we see, yup this woman and her kid. The kid can’t have been older than nine, and this zone was only for people 18 and older. Anyway, we ignore them and start kissing and being touchy-feely, and pretending like we’re Jack and Rose from Titanic.
The mom comes over. Her: You shouldn’t act like that here, my son is here watching the two of you. But you did well kid, having a cute girlfriend like that, and nice dress by the way. I was wearing something like a lace-up, tartan, asymmetrical dress since I like the punk-ish style. We just thanked her and went back inside to rest for a bit.
In the evening, we had a reservation at one of the fancier restaurants on board. We got there and since we had a reservation we could skip the huge line. Some people didn’t like it but stayed quiet, but not…her. Yep, she was there again. Her: Why do they get to skip the line while the rest of us have to stay behind? Let me trade with you, my son is very hungry.
I got tired of meeting her everywhere but hey, it’s a ship, surrounded by water, we can’t avoid her for long. We got to our table, still hearing her yelling at the workers. We ordered some drinks and food, then my boyfriend told me that he had something to ask me. He took his chair and pushed it out so he could stand, eyed the waiter that came over with a little black box, and I knew what was happening and started getting tears in my eyes.
I had been waiting for some time for this to happen. He got on one knee and asked, “Will you make me the happiest man on earth?” He barely finished the sentence when I said yes. No time to think, I just did it, since I can’t think of a life without him. Everyone started clapping and I gave him a long kiss. The entitled mom finally got through the line and saw us kissing.
Her: Can’t you kiss your girlfriend somewhere else? My son is with me. Boyfriend: First of all, I just proposed and kissed to make it official. Second, that is not my girlfriend, that’s my boyfriend. You could see all color disappear from her face. Her: ...How could you do that with children present? You should not do something like that at all. Blah, Blah, Blah.
While she kept yelling, I noticed that something smelled like poop and I couldn’t see her little brat anywhere, until....I looked down and there he was, trying to pull down my skirt. I quickly grabbed his hands and yanked him away from me. Mother: HOWDAREYOUTOUCHMYBABY Like that, yes. I don’t think she breathed at all during that sentence. And here we go...
Her: I will sue you for this. And stop wearing girl’s clothing, it is not ok to walk like that. My boyfriend was furious. He normally never lays a hand on anyone, but had I not seen it and stopped him, he would have slapped her into the next century. The woman saw what he was about to do and acted like he actually did it....with the employees and the manager looking at her.
She got escorted out and we got our meal on the house. After '' resting" in our cabin, we set out to find the bar. We heard there was live music and good drinks so we had to try it. We found it after wandering around for a while. We entered, ordered some drinks, and sat down. We drank quite a bit and decided to dance as fiancés. Well, who do we see...
Entitled Mother: STOOOOOP THE Music. It got quiet. Her: Don’t start the music until these two leave. She starts to sound like that typical Catholic priest while pointing at us all angry. But she got the exact opposite of what she wanted. The bartender comes over and says: Miss, I have to ask you to leave the bar. Her: Why do we have to leave while These Two get to stay?
Bartender: First of all, you brought a kid that most certainly is not 18 years or older. Second, we do not tolerate those comments. And lastly, you’re just a nasty person. You could almost hear her jaw drop to the floor as she looked for a response. She ended up leaving, music started playing again, and we gave an extra big tip before leaving to our cabin for some more cozy time.
The rest of our vacation went pretty much without meeting her and her devil spawn again. We are getting married in August.
I'm a freelance hiking and snowmobile guide on the island of Svalbard (Norwegian Arctic) and have to deal with all sorts of people on a day-to-day basis. I'm not super sure if this guy still qualifies as an Entitled Dad, since his Son must have been at least 40, but here we go. A few months ago I was guiding a trip by myself. We only send one guide out when the group is small, so I went to the hotels to pick up my guests.
It was an Italian couple and this Saudi Arabian father and his son. I walked into their hotel, introduced myself, and got everybody to sit in the car when the father opened the passenger seat door, sat down, and looked at me confused. Him: Oh Sorry! This is your seat, right? Me: No, you can sit there if you want, it's easier to drive from the other side anyway.
See, I always try to crack a joke or two, to break the ice—lots of people are nervous when having to drive a snowmobile the first time. He looked at me slightly more confused, but I assumed it was only a language thing. I brought them back to HQ and gave them a full safety briefing and overview on a map of where we'd be going. After that, I got them dressed and told them to wait outside, because our suits are made to keep you warm at -30C, so inside a building, you quickly start to melt.
Once I was dressed I went to meet them outside. Father: Oh? You're coming with us on the tour? Me: I hope so since I'm your guide (I had told them in the briefing the usual "Hey, my name is Kat and I'll be your guide for today"). Father: Is that a gun? Me: Yes, Sir. But don't worry, she's not yet loaded. The father and son looked at each other confused, and we all started walking towards the snowmobiles so I could give them a small briefing on how to drive them.
The Italians had told me they have driven snowmobiles before, so I decided to place them at the end of the group and the father and son in the front (everybody got to drive their own vehicle), because it's always better for the more experienced guests to be in the back since they might have to speed up here and there to fill a gap. Father: But where is the guide?
Me: Here. I'm just in front of you… Father: But you're female. Guides can't be female! Me: Hm? About 50% of our guides are girls here on Svalbard, it's not that uncommon. Don't worry, we girls are just as good as our male colleagues. Son: I think my father wants to know, who will operate the gun? Me: Well, let's hope we don't even have to take it out of the boot, but I am trained and licensed to shoot.
Son: No. Me: No? Son: You are a woman! Women can't shoot guns! Father: It's not safe! Me: Excuse me? Guys, if you don't want me as your guide, that's fine with me. Go back into HQ, take the suit off and tell our receptionist to call you a taxi. If you don't feel safe, that's up to you, but I am the guide for this trip today and if you want to head out, you'll have to deal with me.
Father: But if we don't go, we want our money back! Me: You can try, but I bet you that you won't get a penny because it's your own decision to not come along. Son: I will go if you get a male guide for us. Me: I won't get anybody else to join. You've signed the agreement that I'm in charge of this tour and you will listen to what I tell you to do and not to do.
Father: I didn't sign anything. Me: Yes, about 15 minutes ago, before you got dressed. I saw you sign it. The dad then walks off back into HQ, while the son and the Italians stayed. The son called his dad and found out he would not come with a woman. The son and the Italians drove with me, and we saw reindeer, sea ice, a polar bear in the distance, and in general, had a great time.
After the tour, the son came to me to apologize for his behavior and called me a "good girl guide.” My boss heard that and still mocks me with it today.
So I’m on a plane and I’m sat a few rows behind a family of four. The boarding is nearly complete. The daughter (entitled kid) is sobbing, and it gets more and more audible as more people get in and on their seats. Finally, the Entitled Mother gets a hold of the flight attendant and demands her to ask the captain "one more time" if they could have their dog in the cabin instead of the pet compartment.
The flight attendant tries to explain that their dog is too large and has to travel separately. This provokes the entitled kid to cry out even louder, and the flight attendant tries to explain how it is perfectly safe for animals to travel in their designated compartment underneath the passengers. The fuss starts to attract attention, and someone close to my row announces their severe allergy to dogs to the family and the flight attendant.
The mother raises her voice and demands the flight attendant to dig their luggage and dog out of the plane, as they will find another airline that allows all family members in the cabin. At this point, the plane is full and the doors are closed, and it seems the captain is waiting for confirmation from the crew to start rolling towards the take-off strip. The flight attendant tries to explain how they would have to go through all the luggage to find theirs, and how that would delay the flight.
The mother is having none of it and very clearly articulates, “You would turn back in an instant and go through it all if there was a bomb, wouldn't you?" All movement and chatter stop and the flight attendant gets very serious, "Please remain seated, we'll see what we can do." It takes less than a minute for officers to arrive and escort the family out.
It takes 10 more to get their luggage and the dog and another five for the flight to take off. Seeing the mad-angry husband with the crying kids watch their mom put in the patrol car was the best start for a holiday I've had in a long time.
So my sister and her husband flew up to come visit the family in Canada and introduce their newborn daughter to everyone over the Easter weekend. It wasn’t a long visit, and they went to the airport this morning to check in for their flight. My train back to my apartment didn’t leave for another three hours, so I tagged along to help with the stroller and bags.
Basically, I was an extra pair of hands so they could focus more on the baby instead of trying to juggle bags and everything. So we’re standing in line (there was an issue at the check in kiosk), and I feel my small rolling weekend bag get extremely heavy all of a sudden, to the point where it almost yanks right out of my grip. I turn around and there’s a girl, anywhere from 7-10 years old, sitting on my bag.
Me: Excuse me, please get off my bag. Girl: My feet hurt and I wanna sit down! She then bounced in place and actually yanked the bag handle out of my grip, causing both it and her to fall to the ground. Her Mother: Don’t drop my child like that! Me: She was sitting on my bag and yanked it out of my grip. It’s barely 6:30 am at this point, and I had zero patience for this stupidity.
So I just hold my bag in my hand, out of the way for the girl to sit on. My niece starts getting fussy (as young babies will), and my brother-in-law jogs off to go grab a bottle of water to make her a bottle. They thought they would be through security at this point, so they weren’t prepared to make her a bottle. No big deal, I tell my sister to take care of her baby and I’ll manage the bags.
But behind me, the kid was just getting started. Girl: Mooooooooommmmyyyyyyyyyy, my feet huuuuuuurt and I wanna siiiiiiiiiiiit. I kid you not, this kid dragged out her words exactly like this. Mother: Hang on sweetie. My sister was adjusting the baby in her stroller in an attempt to calm her down, but from behind her it looked like she was taking the baby out.
Mother: See, she’s taking the baby out of the stroller, go sit there. My sister hears this, and she just about loses her mind. Sister: Uh, no, she can’t sit here. Mother: You’re taking the kid out, she can sit there! Sister: No I’m not, and no she can’t. She’s a grown child, she can stand like the rest of us. Mother: Her feet hurt. Take your brat out of the stroller and let her sit there.
My sister gets this look on her face that I know very well, it pretty much promises that she’s going to screw up your day. Sister (to me): Take the baby out of the stroller please. My husband should be here with the water for her bottle in a minute. I get confused, but I trust her and take the baby out of the stroller. The mother gets this look of absolute triumph, only for it to drop off her face as my sister then grabs my weekend bag and the diaper bag and put them right where the baby was sitting.
Sister: As I said, your child is grown, and she can stand. My child is nine weeks old. She can barely hold her head up on her own. You need to get some sense in your head. At this point in time, a check-in attendant has noticed my sister’s situation with the baby, who was still fussing, and pulled her to the front of the line to get her through.
My brother-in-law reappears right after that to help sort out bags while I feed the baby. I looked for the mother and the kid, and the girl was on the ground throwing a massive temper tantrum, worse than any tantrum I’ve seen in children half her age. The mother just looked like she was sucking on a lemon.
My neighbors have three boys all under the age of seven. In my first encounter with the mom, she promptly tells me (not asks) that her kids wander. I naïvely thought that meant there might be the odd rogue ball episode or something so don't protest at the time. Our yards are unfenced, and we share a driveway. Oh boy, was I wrong.
My yard, back deck, front garden, and even the inside of my house were seen as an extension of their space. The boys would even have sword fight tournaments on my back deck, off my kitchen. The parents would literally do nothing. I was put in a position many times to ask for more privacy as it was affecting my work and a general sense of well-being as I am a very private person.
It took some pushing, but finally, things got a bit better. They still "wander," however to a level I am not willing to cause drama over. This past early winter, I decided to put in security cameras. I live alone in a not-so-great area and I wanted some peace of mind. I also wanted to document encroachment in case it got bad again. In that time, the cameras have picked up a lot of encroachment from kids, but I did not raise the issue.
The relationship with the parents is peaceful, and I wanted to keep it that way. Fast forward to yesterday, my camera picks up a clip of the middle kid peering into my window with a pair of binoculars. I send the clip to the parents, explaining one of my cameras picked it up and that I am not comfortable with this behavior. It is inappropriate and an invasion of my privacy. Their reply blew my mind.
They send a note back saying he was only trying to see if I was home so he could say hello. Then they insisted on knowing more about my security cameras, what they can see, and if they pick up the kids playing in their yard. I explained that they don't...as they only pick up motion in my yard. But, if the kids are in my yard, which they are...a lot…they are recorded.
The parents are now insisting I take the cameras down. The lesson is, entitled parents raise entitled children. I am frightened to see what kind of adults these kids will turn into. Who knows if I will be here long enough to find out.
I work at a bar that essentially turns into a club at night. This man just came in with his toddler-ish kid, ordered a ton of drinks, and essentially let the TODDLER run around my bar to do whatever it wants. It made its way behind the bar while I was away and hit its head on something. Imagine my surprise when I exit the bathroom and immediately get yelled at by this guy about how the child’s accident was my fault.
The exact quote is, “This place is not fit for a child, there are too many bottles and wires behind the bar!” ….Maybe because I run a bar, not a daycare?
As I kid, I would often be working at my dad's workplace—he was an off-premise caterer and an event planner and would often be hired to put together lavish wedding parties. Huge feasts, cheese and fruit tables 40 feet long, lots of drinks, sometimes multiple pigs for both an afternoon and an evening roast, lots of fancy people wanting fancy parties, paying a ton of money, and expecting the world to revolve around them.
One event, in particular, stood out because when the bride-to-be and her mother came in to go over details, they had some rather heated disagreements over some really, really stupid stuff. When this happened, often my dad would just sit there quietly, not taking sides, and patiently wait for people to work out the differences. But this argument came to an interesting and final conclusion.
The mother of the bride was arguing about the specific shade the decorative ribbons and icing trim on the cake should be. Up until that point, she had proven herself incapable of letting her daughter have the final say in anything, from the menu to the plate garnishes, to the time the meal was to start. The mother was insisting that she have her way on everything.
The daughter was gritting her teeth and just grinding through it, but when her mother started to fuss about the exact shade of off-light-green-no-that's-too-light-no-that's-too-dark, the bride snapped. She loudly and firmly stated "Mother, if you don't knock it off right this instant I am going to disinvite you from the wedding. This is my day and while I value your input, the decisions will be mine."
She then turned to my dad, looked him squarely in the eyes, and said, "I will be signing your check, you work for me. Nothing is decided until I say so. If my mother tries to plan or change anything, you are to call me immediately. I do not expect you will have any problems with that." My dad simply said "not at all," and they got back to planning the wedding.
I currently don’t speak to my mother, nor have I for many months now, but somehow she still finds ways to butt into my life and the decisions I make for my child. My husband and I both come from anti-vax families. His side is against it but doesn’t shame us for vaccinating our daughter. My mother, however, really has a lot to say about it.
Since we both were raised to not believe in science, it was pretty natural for us to be against vaccinating our daughter when she was born. I had a home birth so it was easy to avoid everything. We would lie to pediatricians about it and just did what our parents did when we were kids. But eventually, I decided to do some actual research on vaccines as a whole.
My husband and I made the decision to get vaccinated as well as getting a schedule started for our six-month-old baby to catch her up. We went in this morning to get her first shots. Everything went smoothly and so far she seems fine. She has been fussy and sleepier than usual, but the pediatrician said that’s normal and will go away in a day or two.
We left feeling proud that we were able to educate ourselves effectively and set our baby up for success. Then I get a call. It’s my grandpa. Or so I thought. I answer and the first thing I hear is, “When you wake up and she isn’t breathing, you’ll be sorry!! I can’t believe you did this to MY little girl!” I hang up immediately and start to panic.
I eventually traced it back to a family member that is a doctor. I was asking her questions about vaccines and I told her we were going in today. I guess she told my grandpa how excited she was for us, and then he told my mom, and then BOOM, end of the world! My mother-in-law found out later and seemed supportive, given her opinions about vaccines.
She told us, “It’s your decision, and I trust that whatever you do is what is best for her.” So I’m glad we have her to help reassure us a bit. But now I’ve been getting texts and calls from my mom, through my grandpa’s phone, absolutely freaking out. Saying that she hopes something happens to her so I will see the consequences of my actions. Also that she is praying for her, whatever that means.
Ultimately, we are confident with our decision and will continue with her schedule. But my mother seriously needs to chill out!
When my boyfriend was 14, he was living with his mom and sister on a housing estate. It was summer and he liked a bit of light in his upstairs bedroom, so he left the curtains open at all times. That included when he was getting dressed and after having a shower, so if you purposefully stared at his window, you could see him from his waist up (and only his waist up).
Well, their neighbor did not like that one bit. She went pounding on their door, yelling at my mother-in-law that her son was a disgrace, hanging around always naked and exposing himself to her daughter. My mother-in-law told her he had every right to do whatever he wanted in his bedroom, and that if they didn't want to see him all they needed to do was not to look.
A couple of days went by and lo and behold, the authorities showed up at the neighbor’s door. Turned out the neighbor had been filming and taking pictures of my boyfriend to show to the housing people as evidence of his wrongdoing to get them kicked out. Except that the housing office called the authorities on her for taking pictures and videos of an underage kid and kicked her and her family out.
My partner and I purchased the house next door to my best friend. I had lived with him for close to a decade when his kids were babies, so the children viewed my house as an extension of theirs, and were in and out all day, every day. I have a more flexible schedule than he and his wife, so I have them in the mornings, after school, and on days off of school.
I had a pool in my yard, and because my friend's kids were still little, I installed a retractable cover and made sure it was locked so they couldn't open it. My friend's yard had one of those wood fort/climbing wall/swing set deals and a large sandbox. Throughout the year, we spent most evenings outside, grilling, drinking, and watching the kids play/swim/whatever.
One summer day, I came home from work a little earlier than normal, and started to prep for dinner. I heard a knock at my back door, which was odd, since my buddy's kids never knocked. I went to see who it was and discovered a mom and two kids who looked to be maybe 5-7 years old. As I opened the door, she informed me that her kids needed to use the bathroom and that I needed to come out and get the cover off my pool.
I was confused and asked her to repeat herself, and she said that her kids needed to pee and that they were hot and bored with playing in the sandbox, so I needed to open up my pool. I asked her why the heck she was in my friend's yard and what made her think her kids were welcome to swim in my pool, or use my bathroom for that matter.
She got really witchy and told me that she had moved into the house behind us and that she had watched my buddy's kids come over all the time and watched as I opened the pool for them. She insisted that since I was willing to open my pool for the kids next door, I should also open it for the children who lived behind me. I tried explaining the relationship between my best friend's family and mine.
She claimed it didn't matter that I had known them since birth and pretty much had helped raise them, I just needed to get to know her kids too and it would be OK. I told her no and closed the door on her. She spent a while knocking and fussing at me through the window, and then had her kids pee in a planter on the side of the patio.
When I still didn't react, she took her kids back into my friend's yard to play on the swings. I texted him to let him know what was going on, right at the moment he was letting his 300+ pounds worth of Newfie dogs out into the yard without noticing the unwelcome visitors. The mom starts shrieking and climbs up into the fort, leaving both kids on the swings.
She starts demanding that we put the dogs inside and how dare my friend let his dogs out into his own yard when her kids are clearly playing there. He tells her to get the heck out and calls the authorities. When the officers arrived, she put on the whole waterworks about how her kids are just looking for friends, and my buddy's kids are somehow mistreating her kids, even though they'd never met.
She said that he invited her over just to let his dogs attack her children, blah blah blah. They eventually move her back onto her own property, then come back later to tell us they warned her about coming back. She lived in that house for almost a year before she and her husband divorced. But even then, she still managed to be a nightmare neighbor.
During that year, I had to replace the lock over the pool cover controls three times, have a fencing company remove a gate at the back of my property that was meant to let the lawnmower through, and eventually payed a security company to come to check on the yard any time we were going to be away for more than a few hours.
We found her and her kids in our yards repeatedly, but she'd leave when we got home. What finally resolved the issue was my partner catching her in the pool. She told him she knew the man that owned the house and that he had told her it was OK to swim. He told her he was married to the man that owned the pool and that it's not OK to swim.
She apparently had a bad reaction to realizing she was immersing her sons in gay water. We didn't see her again after that.
I am at my local grocery store getting things for breakfast and dinner. I walk over to the deli department for some sliced cheese. As I’m grabbing my bag of cheese, I see it. Entitled mom is putting a package of cheese back!! Now, this wouldn’t be a big deal if she had not TAKEN SLICES OUT TO FEED HER offspring.
Seriously this woman, who was not wearing gloves, helped herself to some pre sliced, pre weighed cheese, sealed the package back up, and left it for some unsuspecting person. Yes, I promptly let the deli employees know and they pulled every package of cheese that wasn’t sealed with a sticker over the zipper, because there was no way to pinpoint which one this vile woman touched.
This happened six years ago. It was a week after my birthday and we decided to throw a late birthday party; my parents were busy with work on my actual birthday, so we rescheduled the party. I invited quite a few of my friends, but one of my friend’s fathers called my parents saying he'd be late to the party. The party was from 7:00 pm to 12:00 am.
He never showed up. Once the party was over, we were heading home and talking about how fun the party was. That conversation was cut short when a vehicle drifted into our lane and collided with us, and I blacked out. When I woke up in a hospital bed, I started to panic, but the doctor that was running tests on me told me to calm down and that I was alright.
After about 20 to 30 minutes of questioning and small tests, I asked the big question. Me: Sir? Where are my parents? The doctor basically froze there for 10 seconds and responded, and I'll never forget what he told me. Doctor: I'm so sorry but... your parents didn't survive the crash. I was informed that my dad perished on impact, and my mom was pronounced dead when she arrived at the hospital with me.
I couldn't believe it. I wanted to cry, but all I felt was anger. I knew the person who drifted into my lane was at fault, so I asked who crashed into us. It was my friend’s dad—and he was the ultimate entitled parent. Apparently, he was under the influence of something when he arrived and was currently handcuffed to a hospital bed.
One of the nurses told me later that he was demanding help before his son (who was also in the car) got treatment, even though his son was on life support. He eventually went behind bars and I don't know if he's been released or not, but if he's out there he better hope we don't cross paths. I'm currently living in a foster home with a wonderful family who treats me like I'm their own flesh and blood.
But as long as I'm alive, I'll never forget my real parents, and I'll never forget my best friend, and I'll never forgive that father for what he's done.
My mom never told me how her best friend died. Years later, I was using her phone when I made an utterly chilling discovery.
Madame de Pompadour was the alluring chief mistress of King Louis XV, but few people know her dark history—or the chilling secret shared by her and Louis.
I tried to get my ex-wife served with divorce papers. I knew that she was going to take it badly, but I had no idea about the insane lengths she would go to just to get revenge and mess with my life.
Catherine of Aragon is now infamous as King Henry VIII’s rejected queen—but few people know her even darker history.
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