TIFU by leaving the safe AND door unlocked at my workplace
TIFU by leaving the safe AND door unlocked at my workplace
I work at a little coffee shop, and I’ve been working there for just over a week and a half.
It one of my first non-training closings with one of my other coworkers last night, and I counted the till for the first time. I had to ask her a bunch of questions to clarify things so I ended up opening and closing the safe a lot to put the money and various other papers inside.
Fast forward to this morning: I get a text from my boss saying that the safe AND one of the doors was left unlocked, and that she would have to write us both up as a final warning.
My stomach fucking dropped. I couldn’t believe that 1) TWO things were fucked up, and 2) that I managed to fuck up this early in my time there.
Granted, both my coworker and I should have both double-checked each other on everything, but I can’t help but really feel like this is all my fault.
Not gonna lie, I kinda want to fuckin crawl in a hole and die right now. Such stupid mistakes.
I’m closing again tonight, so I guess I have the opportunity to do everything the right way (and do it the right way moving forward).
God, I feel like such garbage.
TL;DR : My coworker and I didn’t double check that one of the doors and safe was locked when we closed. We got written up as a final warning.
Where do you work? I'll stop by tonight after you're gone and make sure you locked everything up this time
You definitely shouldn’t be closing on your own a week and a half in.
The fact that you feel bad and take responsibility for everything is a good thing. This is a learning experience. You’re human, it’s ok.
Try not to beat yourself up too much. I’m betting you don’t plan on being at this job long term, and this shouldn’t follow you.
and if not you are going to inform him, right? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
TIFU by popping an ingrown hair down my throat
Obligatory this was ages ago.
When I was a young lad downloading pornographic materials from the likes of Limewire to my Compaq Presario laptop and beating my meat like a butcher in the privacy of my cum caked bedroom I noticed many of men unrealistically going to town on their not-wives for hours on end had no hair down there.
It occurred to me that if I were to clear my Italian old growth forest of fur like these fine gents my cash and prizes would look a hell of a lot bigger than it currently did.
In my porn-addled brain that seemed to be pretty important so one afternoon I locked myself in the bathroom and went to town with the Barbasol and my dollar store pack of Bik razorblades.
After hacking my sack to smithereens leaving more knicks that knob I had done the deed. Except for the grave injuries to my junk it was smooth as a baby's bottom which in retrospect is a terrible metaphor.
We all know what happens next. The itching and scratching, the sweat fueled stinging as my body was basically asking "Yo, wtf did you do? I'm sure I'll adapt after the 3rd or 4th round of this hell but I'm making you pay for it until then."
A week later I was happy with the enormous penis I now had despite the only other people who saw it were the 40 year old dudes pretending to be 17 year old girls in Yahoo Chatrooms. They appreciated it as well.
I had a few ingrown hairs but I always get those, no biggie, burst them and move on. Sometimes they get a little infected so I burst them and keep it clean and move on. Not this time. One hair on my right thigh was Deep Horizon BP oil rig deep, festering away in my flesh inches from my most precious possession. There was no good way to keep it not hot and sweaty even with fresh bandages. It was a perfect storm.
I started to get worried when a blotch of discoloration began to spread from the ingrown hair up and down my thigh. I bought some neo(na na na)sporin and slathered that shit on to beat off the infection. I worked if I applied it daily but the infection raged back to life if I forgot. This started to concern me and I didn't want to tell my parents why I needed to go to the doctor, dad thought any man who shaved any hair below his neck was gay and in the religious household I grew up in being not-gay was the only option. Any indication to the contrary would result in a talking to with old men at church about moral depravity.
I had two choices. Risk being considered "a gay" and let a real doctor handle an increasingly urgent medical condition like you know, a normal human, or handle my infection with what I had around the house. I chose the later as every ignorant hillbilly boy is wont to do.
I snapped a razor blade in half, grabbed a sewing pin, a candle, some bleach and hopped into the bathtub to soak for 45 minutes.
When I was done and the quarter sized lump was nice and soft I snapped the razor in half exposing the edge of the blade and heated it over the candle. I sterilized the tender skin with a 10% bleach and water mix, owie, and began to pick away at the skin. I was very aware this was close to a throbbing vein and didn't want to slip but I had to cut my way down into the flesh since previous attempts to pop it revealed it was so deep that couldn't work.
I cut down a few millimeters and then switched to the needle picking apart the flesh on my thigh and grimacing the whole time. I poked deeper with the needle hoping to rupture the blob of festering me juice so I could drain it but no dice.
Then the squeezing began. Mind you I'm 130 pounds at 5' 9" pale as a sheet and naked on the side of the tub with water still in the tub in the event I needed to soak some more. This looks ridiculous.
I tried to find the core of the ingrown hair and squeeze with the only route for escape being the weakened skin I'd split open with my razor and needle, I'm no stranger to the ingrown hair game, eventually it has to give but holy shit this hurt like hell. It was easily the deepest most painful boil I've ever had in my life before or since. I'm breathing between gritted teeth and grunting as it goes on until I let out an audible "yeaaaghh" giving the bloody tear in my thigh a manly dick crushing level grip.
The pop was audible. It was a fleshy wet snap followed by a fucking jizzy sound. Ever hear molten plastic sizzle when it drips? That's the only way to describe it, my body made a wetter variant of that noise as the entire boil shot out of my thigh up my chest and into my open screaming mouth. I don't know if the whole thing unloaded on my uvula but it sure felt like it did. crabman.gif is the only way to describe the look on my face and I'm sure yours at this moment when I realized what happened.
Blood was trickling down my thigh mingled with cream colored pus and a twisted trail of both substances dribbled down my chest. I sat there in shock for a moment then the wet warmth and slick creamy texture of the shit in my mouth registered and I vomited on the bathtub wall through a scream. I got most of it in the tub but enough splashed back onto me I was a sight for horrified eyes and moments later eyes there were.
My mother had heard me scream as it burst and came running as mothers tend to do when their children scream from the bathroom. She forced the shitty door open as I vomited and stood aghast at the scene before her.
There was her son, naked, covered in blood and vomit dripping from his mouth complete with a throbbing erection and oh look he shaves his peener, so it's not just her bleeding, vomiting son it's her bleeding, vomiting gay son. I saw all hope and happiness drain from her eyes in that moment.
She screams "oh my god! I'll call the ambulance" not even bothering to find out what happened but apparently blood, barf and boners requires professional help. I turn and shout after her not to but slip and end up dunking both hands in the vomit water trying to keep my body from getting soaked in an awkward crab walking motion.
I get up grab a towel and wipe most of the shit off me then another towel around me and follow her as she's cursing having misplaced the phone. I catch her dialing 911 and make her hang up. I tell her what happened and she turns pale as a ghost, goes into the bathroom and vomits in the toilet.
She never told dad not because she wanted to keep it a secret but because she couldn't tell him without getting sick to her stomach so I didn't have to deal with the old dudes checking to make sure I was only aroused by reproductively fit women. That was the only good outcome of the story.
To this day I cannot bring up ingrown hairs without her going "Stop! Stop! I'm remembering that awful day and it's making me sick to my stomach!" So of course being a good child I bring it up as frequently as is organically possible at family events which in my family is more often than your family I'm sure.
I still have a weak spot of skin about where the ingrown hair was, it's like ballsack soft and pliable and if I stick my finger into it the skin gives a fair bit. I don't know if it's a normal thing or if that ingrown hair left a permanent mark on me. I'd like to think it's a badge indicating my pain threshold.
TL;DR I popped a massive ingrown hair on my thigh and a significant portion of the contents shot down my throat. Then my mom found me covered in vomit blood and pus. Then I told her what happened and she threw up because it's objectively one of the top 3 grossest things that's ever happened to me.
I fucking threw up in my mouth moderating your post OP
I have no clever comeback but I am honored and will be printing and framing this.
The time I discovered my house wasn't attached to the sewer while I was under the house crawling through it and the time my childhood dog liquified because I forgot her body was in a wheelbarrow covered in snow until mid-May.
TYFU by being a mod for /sub/tifu
TIFU by trying to have a threesome with my girlfriend.
So this happened last night. My girlfriend and I have been trying to have a threesome for a while now but could never really find the right girl. Yesterday she reconnected with one of her old middle school friend and they were hanging out at the mall. She called me and asked if they could come by my place after for some drinks and I agreed.
They come over around 9pm and my girlfriend gave me that look. I knew that she talked to her about having a threesome with us and the girl agreed to it. So I play some music and bring out some drinks. Everything is going good until she brings out her own stash of alcohol and weed.
The girl brought two 4Locos and starts chugging. (For those who don't know 4Locos is this really harsh alcoholic drink that's 4 servings of alcohol in one can that can really fuck you up.) She has two of them. Then she rolls a blunt and smokes it. (I didn't drink or smoke at all) By that time my girlfriend is tipsy from the Hennessy I have and starts making out with me. The girl is on the bed watching and obviously starts getting turned on. But a few minutes later she told us she's really tired and wants to go back home. I'm bummed out but we all get in the car and I drive her home.
I'm driving her home down these dark back roads. The whole time she's telling us how she loves having us as friends and that she's sorry for being so tired and all that. Then she starts gagging and making pre vomit sounds I guess? Anyways I pull over to the side of the road so she can do her business. She gets out and starts sprinting down the road (Rip Me) I start chasing her down the the dark road and I catch up. She looks me dead in the face and asked me who I was. I told her I'm her friend and that she's not feeling well and my girlfriend and I was taking her home. She's says ok but continues to walk away and a car goes by. She waves her arms and screams for help and I grab her saying wtf are you doing? Then she bites the shit out my hand. I let go and she runs into the street. I'm a black guy with dreads and she's a skinny white girlfriend so the sight of me chasing her is pretty comical. She managed to flag down a truck, a man and wife, and begs them for help. My girlfriend pulled up and very calmly told her friend to get back in the car. The girl screamed get away from me hides in the bush. The couple calls the police. The police showed up and asked everyone questions and took the girl back to her parents place.
No sex was had but instead I got a few cuts from the bite so that's kinda kinky I guess.
Tl:dr- Girlfriend comes over with her friend for a threesome. Friend gets drunk and high instead and runs away. Friend freaks out and bites my hand and strangers calls the police. Police takes her home
Update- I'm going to go to the clinic soon to have it checked and I'm going to try and upload pictures as well. My girl friend tried to get in contact with the girl but no response. We'll stop by her apartment along the way
Update 2- Here's my hand
Edit- I'M LIGHT SKINNED BLACK LIKE CARAMEL OR PEANUT BUTTER Lmao
Edit 2- EVERYONE IS TELLING ME IM NOT BLACK HELL I DONT KNOW ANYMORE YOU TELL ME https://imgur.com/a/g5w76yT
She just went 8 Loko, you never go 8 Loko.
If she actually broke the skin, you should get that checked out by a doctor. Bites from humans are more serious than bites from animals.
Edited to better reflect the severity of human bites.
I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re white, OP. The Hennessy darn near gives it away.
The longer you wait the longer the chest burster has to grow.
Edit: linger = longer
TIFU by whipping it out without looking first
In those situations always think that something worse might have happened. For example, the ants might have been a snake. If the snake bit you, you might have passed out and just imagine the surprise of the dude that would casually walk by and find you on the grass with your dick out, pee all over you and the dogs barking. Ugly scene, but what a story that would have been...
Lol, I’d say.
The worst kind of ants. They made me their bitch, too.
You're just a Pissant.
TIFU saying "I am alive"
You need to know that whenever someone asks whether I am listening, or paying attention, I yell," I am alive". Just a weird habit. Happened just an hour ago. One of my best friend lost her dad to heart attack. We live thousands miles away. So I thought of calling her to give my condolences. First mistake. I was a bit shaken up because her father was young and it was so sudden. So, While we were on the call, I was a bit silent. She was talking about how she is coping and how she is going to miss him. I was listening intently and wasn't saying anything just so that she could talk her heart out. She thought I hung up and asked, "OP! Are you listening?" N I blurted," yeah, I am alive" :( she went totally silent after that. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. :( I fucked up bad.
TL:DR I said "I am alive" to one of my best friends who had lost her father the same day.
Well if she knows your habit maybe she'll understand if you explain?
She will understand but I sure made myself look like an ass.
Don't tell her that last part about crawling in a hole unless you really want to make it cringy.
Guess I am diagnosed with foot in the mouth disease. :(
TIFU by trusting a friend and losing a car.
I'll keep it as short as possible. This happened a few months ago. Travelled to australia, bought a car with a friend, registered it in her name, travelled for a few months, arrived in Sydney, decided to stay here for longer and sell the car.
Because I found a full-time job she took it upon herself to sell the car. After not hearing anything for a month I decided to check in, she had no offers and was doing the best she could, ofcourse. Now this was a good car, new, no mechanical problems, had just been checked, never any issues. Because there was no real rush I was fine with this explanation, although I didn't believe she was trying very hard.
Another month goes by, still no sale or interest. Come to find out she uses the car on a daily basis, long distance, and has only one advert online, where she's asking way to much money. I ask her if she really is interested in selling it, if not, she can buy me out since I'm not using the car or need it. She says she wants to sell it, so I help her by putting up adds myself. Within a week I have 5 serious interests but since I'm working I have to thrust my friends to show the car.
5 car inspections later still nobody showed interest in buying. I call one of the people that came to look at the car back to ask why not, only to find out my friend said the engine was making weird noises and the clutch was worn out. He also tells me the 'engine warning sign' on the dashboard is on, which wasn't before. She ofcourse has a great excuse, I forgot what it is, and I give her one last chance to sell it.
By now almost 12 weeks have gone by and I'm planning on flying to Cairns, however we need to sell the car first. I tell her I'm taking over (which was met with an unreasonable amount of hostility), pick up the car from her house, bring it to the garage, get it fixed (new brakes, new clutch cylinders, get the engine warning sign fixed and a few other small things), I clean the car (which hadn't been done in forever) and put it online. Next day the police, and her, stand in front of my door with questions about me selling a stolen car.
After the shock subsided I calmly explain the story the the cops while showing proof of my half of the payment. She says she wants the keys to the car because her name is on the contract, I just want to sell the car. The officers are frustrated to the point of anger that she lied and got them involved in a civil dispute where she had never made an attempt to discus it among outselves. After a long discussion where she's making up things to get her way (I'm depressed and will drive the car of a cliff, I never said the car should be sold, I can't be trusted and won't pay her her half) they decide she gets the keys with the promise of selling the car a.s.a.p. and giving me my half.
Now, 6 months later, realization has set in I lost the car. She blocked me on all possible platforms but still owns the car. I called the police but they can't do anything because the car is in her name. I have to leave Australia soon so going to court will be taking to long next to being expensive. I'm all out of options, bye bye $3200 (and 'friendship').
Tl;dr: bought a car for a roadtrip together with a friend, trusted her to sell it after we were done. After waiting 12 weeks I take over, get the car fixed and cleaned, after which she calls the cops claiming I stole it and gets ownership back. Now she and the car are gone, and so is my money.
Sounds like you need to Judge Judy this bitch. With your evidence and police involvement establishing your entitlement to half the sale of the car should be easy.
Never ever buy something like a car together with a friend or relative, no matter how much you trust someone. Never share a bank account with anyone. I'm really sorry this happened to you, your friend was a peice of shit.
I don’t know about AUS but in the US you can title a car “John Smith and Jane Doe”.if you do that, BOTH of you have to sign to sell it.
That’s what I did with my under 18 son, since he couldn’t be the main title holder (for the car I paid for).
News flash: if it’s only her name on the title, it’s HER car, not yours. You may have a bad debt to collect.
BTW, was any of this in writing? If not, you have learned an expensive lesson.
If it was all your money, why did you put it in her name anyway?
My cousin ended up stealing 4k worth of things after I gave him my mom's car, AFTER SHE HAD FUCKING DIED. People are fucking assholes, especially family.
TIFU by not realizing a Motel 6 employee was setting me up for a robbery in Perry Georgia BEWARE
Contact corporate with this story. The local cops can't help you, and the owners, if guilty, have something to hide. Most likely it was a scam that the late night clerk is running with an accomplice.
That’s exactly what I thought, I plan on calling back tomorrow to see if the owner has checked his cameras...he was an elderly Indian man and seemed innocent but at this point I can’t be sure at all. Monday morning I’m starting a complaint campaign for sure
I think OP is right too. I’d assume that after going to a room in a hotel only to find the deadbolt locked and people obviously sleeping in there, any normal person would turn back and go to the front desk instead of trying to unlock the door. That guy was definitely trying to rob them, I really don’t know what else he’d be trying to do.
There are a couple possibilities here. But your instincts seem right. The dude planned on sneaking in and robbing your shit while you sleep. You might xpost this to /sub/talesfromthefrontdesk.
I have been issued a key to an occupied room before (at 3am, I noped right out after two steps when I saw someone asleep in the bed) at a major property in Las Vegas so mistakes can occur, but the dude's comments make it super suspicious.
TIFU by putting tiny, annoying noise making machines around my house and forgetting where they are.
First off this isn’t a story from today, it really started on Christmas. I’m a big fan of pranks and annoying my brother, so my dad got me 3 little machines, each about as big as a gumball. Each machine has one button and once pressed they make noises once every 4 minutes or so, ranging from a phone’s alert sound to a doorbell. The one problem was, I never figured out how to turn them off and I just assumed they would stop after a day or so. I hid them around the house, went on vacation to Utah and had forgotten all about them, including their locations by the time I got back. These things go off infrequently enough that I can’t hear where they are and on top of it every time the doorbell sound goes off my dogs lose their shit. I found one of them and threw it away because I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off, but I still have 2 left lying around, waking me up occasionally and being annoying as hell.
TL;DR: I got three tiny things that make random annoying noises to piss off my brother, it totally backfired when I lost them with them left on and I still haven’t found 2 of them.
Edit: You can buy these at GameStop’s website for everyone asking
My dad used something similar to prank me when I was about 12 years old. Except instead of random sounds these cycled through things like ghostly whispers, someone screaming, and so on. You get the idea. And they went off about once an hour.
He put them in my room and I became convinced my house was haunted, but he kept saying I was imagining things. What made it worse was that when I wasn't home he would switch the locations of them so I could never pinpoint where it was coming from. He finally admitted it to me when one of the noises scared me shitless, but not before nearly dying of laughter.
Needless to say he gave them to me afterwards and I stuck them under the seats of his car in spots where only a 12 year olds arms could reach.
When I was 8 Or so, I went with my mom to a business trip in Scotland. She got the bright idea to talk up ghosts and the haunted buildings in town. Then, she bought a bagpipe fridge magnet that played Scotland the brave and turned it on every time I went to the bathroom. She denied ever hearing it and had me go down and ask the hotel manager if any pipist had ever died in that bathroom. I was a dumb kid.
I laughed, I cried, I pitied your big armed father.
You've got an awesome mom. My dad's idea of a joke is to insult someone in a stupid voice and then snigger about it. He wins the joke if the other person gets mad, but angry if they don't just leave it as a joke.
TIFU by potentially breaking my Mum's jaw after we mistook each other for burglars
So I'll preface this by saying I suffer from chronic night terrors which causes me to wake up confused, exhausted, and, early this morning, hungry as fuck.
So I stagger downstairs through my living room and into the kitchen where I start eating what would become 3 sausage rolls, half a loaf of bread and jam, 2 iced fingers, and 2 packets of crisps (Wotsits to be exact).During this time, it's completely pitch-black as I hate artificial light, and every little noise sounds like it's about to kill me violently so I was pretty shooketh.
As I'm 'sobering' up and clearing things away, my Mum comes down for whatever reason (she probably thought I was a burglar with all the rummaging around I was doing in the cupboard.
She starts shouting at me to, and I quote, "Get the fuck out my shit, you bastard motherfuck".
In my confused state, "Get the fuck out my shit, you bastard motherfuck" sounded like I was in some other burglars territory. Do burglars have territories? Anywho, this resulted in me spinning round and putting all 8 1/2 stone of myself into hooking my poor mum straight in the jaw and sending her sprawling.
She hasn't spoken to me since. I have yet to confirm if it's because she's pissed at me or because I may have broken her jaw. Suppose I'll find out once the X-Ray gets back.
EDIT: Results are back and it's confirmed I'm too much of a weakling to do any damage. She's okay. I'm not when we get home.
TL;DR: Mistook each other for burglars. Mum got beaten down.
Why did your mom think that yelling obscenities at a burglar is the best course of action ?
She once chased a burglar out of the house with a bat when I was a kid, so maybe she thought she could do it again?
8.5 Stone sounds way more impressive than 120lbs.
TIL that 8.5 stone is only 120 lbs or 54 kg. I didn't even think you could break wind at that weight, much less someone's jaw.
TIFU by Confusing Grape juice and Prune juice.
Only on this subreddit could the phrase 'I began to feel rather parched' make me think 'OHHH, you're about to regret this...'
I hope this doesn’t get classified as a shit post cause it’s rather funny and not that graphic
My wife knows that, above all things, I cannot resist a cold glass of grape juice. I was ecstatic. In my stupor I neglected to check the label to ensure I truly was consuming the sweet nectar I craved. I was drinking at such an alarming rate that before I knew it half the bottle was gone.
Fuck no. You've obviously never tasted prune juice.
The most descriptive shit post ever lol.