Telling and Reading Crazy Stories

When my mom was pregnant with me she and my father divorced and he gave up all parental rights. I’ve never met him or spoken to him, I’ve only seen a few pictures. About 2 years ago, I worked at a healthcare facility where I would float to different offices around the county based on who needed the help. This one particular morning I was checking the doctors schedule and saw my fathers name. He was scheduled to be in the office next door to where I was working and I thought it was pretty crazy but I most likely wouldn’t even see him. The time of his appointment came and he walked into my office straight up to me and says he had a Drs appointment with Dr X. My heart was racing cause I knew it was him as soon as he walked thru the door. I told him Dr X was the office next door and he left. A little while later I walked over to the other office to deliver some faxes and on my way out he trailed behind me and I held the door for him. He said thank you. And that was my one and only interaction with my father in my 30 years of living. - twatwaffle53

TL;DR: Narrowly avoided being sent to prison for 10-20 years for several drug crimes and instead paid minimum fines due to some quick thinking and taking a huge risk Late to the party, but: When I was in high school and the few years after, my primary source of income was selling pot. One day I was just hanging out at home with the GF. We went to the Circle K a few houses down and got some beer. The clerk, who I knew pretty well at this point, asked if he knew where I could get a dub sack. I said sure and that I'd be back soon. I go home and forget about it. An hour or two later I'm like oh shit, remember, weigh it out and go back. He had already given me the money (very important detail for later), so I waited until he had no customers. He came out and we went around the ice box, just smoking and chatting. I handed him the bag. Now, there was no one around. Empty lot except for this beat up Volvo facing the record store next door. If I had been paying better attention, I may have noticed this Volvo had completely tinted windows which seemed odd to do on a beat up Volvo. Two men get out of the car and approach us. One tall skinny guy wearing 100% denim and another guy who looks like Dog the Bounty Hunter in a beige sweater. They approach us and ask how we're doing. Me and Clerk look at each other like "..you know these guys?" Then all of a sudden, the flash badges and yell "EPD!! YOURE UNDER ARREST!!" and cuff us, separate us, and search us. Beige Dog goes through my texts, finds a couple dubious ones, a few crumpled up 20's, starts trying to get me to admit to "doing a lot of business today" blah blah. Then they surprise me by walking me and my GF back to my porch, saying they've seen me come and go quite a bit and just want to "make sure you don't have a pound of heroin in there" and they'll just charge me with a misdemeanor. Otherwise, it will be jail and a felony. So here we are, on my front porch, me saying there's no way I will let them in my house and to call my lawyer over and over. At one point, my roommate walks out, says hi, gets in his car and leaves. At this point, Dog explains that if I don't let him search the house, he's going to park a few squad cars on the lawn, extract everyone from the house and wait on a warrant and they will charge everyone in the house with every little thing they find in any room. I now know this is not legal. Then, I was just scared. My roommate that had just left was a total nerd with a great job. Straight edge. Rarely drank and never smoked or anything at all. I was terrified of him losing his job. Unfortunately for me, I had just had an opportunity to get a quap of mushrooms at a steal of a deal. My area was super dried up on mushrooms at the time, so I asked around and basically had all my deals set before I got it. This timing was perfect, because just 30 feet away on the coffee table of my bedroom was 1/4 of a lb of mushrooms, neatly weighted out into ounces and 1/8's. Top that with all the pot in there... it wasn't looking pretty. So, I proposed that I let one of them in to search just my bedroom and be done with it. I knew once I let them in they could do whatever, but I was out of options. Beige Dog agrees. Canadian Tux stays with my GF (who looks TERRIFIED like "WTF ARE YOU DOING" at me) and Dog the Sweater Hunter enters with me. I lead him upstairs, and walk right past my door (which thank god was closed) and... into the straight edge guy's room. Dog completely turns it over. Takes out drawers. Turns the mattress over. The whole shibang. As he does this, I quietly turn off the computer monitor with a background of my roommate and his gf glaring on it. Guy finds nothing, sticks with his agreement and walks me and my shit eating grin back downstairs. My gf, probably assuming I'm going to prison for many years, is looking like she's about to die, but I'm just grinning. Guy still fucking charged me with a felony. Then they leave. Long story short, paid a lot for a great atty who was friends with the prosecutor. Since no money was seen to be exchanged, the charge was knocked down to "deliverance of marijuana." The prosecutor recommended the minimum sentence. I paid an $121.00 fine, did 80 hours of community center at a local music venue, saw a ton of shows for free and retired from selling. God I hope someone reads this. -DothranAndRoll

3-4 years ago.. I was living in this bigger european city (~2mil people) for some years now. I went with a girl to a pub - and since all tables were full, we sat at the bar. There was an older guy sitting next to me (50ish, white hair, smoking a cigar) who kind distracted me - because he reminded me of my uncle. Now mind: My uncle was living in the US for around 25 years already, he didn't look like that dude, nor did he act too similar. That bar guy just had some gestures that reminded me of him, mixed with the look of another distant relative. Soo... The girl i was with goes to the toilet, so i can't hold back anymore an look this dude in the eyes and tell him he reminds me of my uncle. He jokingly asks: "what's his name". I tell him, and also tell him "weell.. he lives in the US and works in [field_of_work]" .. and then the guy looks stunned and tells me the names of my whole fucking family. Turns out he was the flatmate of my uncle 30yrs ago for about half a year. That was defenitely one of the weirdest bar stories i experienced! TL&DR: went to bar in big city - guy reminds me of my uncle. I tell him. Turns out he was my uncles flatmate 30 years ago for half a year. Uncle lives on another continent for 25 years now. - Duosnacrapus

For context: i'm a 19 year old Scottish guy who was interrailing around Europe for a month. We were in Budapest for a few days hitting up the clubs and sparties, really enjoying ourselves. Eventually it comes time to leave and we decide to get an early morning train to Split (around 5 am). Anyways, we have 2 taxis booked to the train station and we stumble out still kind of half asleep and start loading our stuff in to the taxis. As we're loading we see 3 young guys sprinting full speed ahead up the road shouting "fucking run". We laughed, thought they were just having drunk fun. No, no they were not. As we get in the taxis this guy covered head to toe in tattoos and others blood comes to my door and asks to shake my hand. Not wanting to offend this crazy lookin fucker i shake his bloodied hand and he wishes me well. Phew, got off lightly. Guy tries to do the same with our big fuck off Bulgarian taxi driver. He refuses. Bulgarian taxi driver gets in taxi and starts to back out. Crazy fuck is not happy with this and starts to go to town on this guys taxi with elbows, fists, knees etc. We start to drive away thinking theres no chance hes gonna be bothered to follow a taxi going 20mph? Right? Nah this fuck is fuckin superman, sprints faster than humanely possible after our taxi with this mad look in his eye. Taxi driver goes to turn a corner, thinking wed got away from him, but as we turn theres a bin lorry blocking the entire road. Crazy fuck rounds this corner like an atom out the fuckin hadron collider. At this point im shouting half asleep Scottish at our taxi driver "LOCK EH FUKIN DOORS" which he thankfully does. Crazy fuck starts battering the windows in with fists, blood smeared everywhere, knuckles burst. Rips off the wing mirrors, starts smashing the windows in with them. At this point our friends in the taxi behind us are buckled in laughter as we sit in pure terror as the fuckin grim reaper looms ready to take our souls. Both taxi drivers get out to get him to fuck off, spits in both their faces and throws the wingmirror at them then books it out of there. Maddest thing about it is as he was leaving he very nicely apologises to one of the locals watching this in awe. TLDR: don't refuse handshakes from men covered in blood, it's rude.

When I was about 10, my family moved from the city to this small (like a few hundred residents) town in northern Australia. We started going to school and after a few weeks we made friends with the other kids. They kept telling us about this club in town called the Nature rangers. They way they described it, it sounded like some off-brand Boy scouts with camping and hiking and all that. They also said they gathered at their ranger hall on Fridays to have movie nights with popcorn and hotdogs. Me and my younger sister begged our parents to let us join, so on Friday night we got dropped off at the hall. So we line to go into the hall and all the kids are joking and laughing. They open the doors and the we all start walking in and the whole mood shifted. All the kids immediately shut up. As I walked in I looked up and on the walls was all this signs. 'SINNERS MUST BURN', THE DEVIL IS COMING FOR YOU!' 'CHRIST IS YOUR ONLY SAVIOUR!' Stuff like that . The one that stood out was this huge mural of Australia engulfed in Flames, with only our northern town spared. It was an eye opener for us city kids. What happened next got weirder. It was something you see in movies about fanticals in the deep South of America. We sang these weird folk songs, listened to fire and brimstone sermons. We had to give our faith to the Lord Jesus. The one song that stuck out years later went 'He's under my feet He's under my feet Satan is under my feet' The song was accompanied with a dance we had to learn. Me and my sister were looking at each other like 'when is this going to be over' Then after all of that we were ushered outside. The boys and girls were separated. The girls were to stay at the hall, but the boys were off to go with this creepy looking old guy, who they called 'brother joseph'. He was getting all the boys to get into his white van to take them for a drive. That's when I knew that enough was enough. I snuck out of the line and silently got my sister and said we are going. By this time it was late at night, So we snuck of into the dark. Our home was on the other side of town so we slowly made our way home, creeping from yard to yard. Every time we saw car lights we hid in trees or bushes. When we got about half a km from home i told my sister to leg it, and we sprinted the whole way home, burst into our house and preceded to tell our parents the whole thing. They always say they had never seen us so scared. It's a story we laugh about at the time but at the time it was dodgy as fuck. We lived in that town for another 3 months, and the other kids never mentioned Nature Rangers to us ever again. - diegoNT

I stole my own car back once. I used to restore classic cars. I had the most valuable one I’ve ever had at abody shop, and he took forever to finish it. He had painted other cars for me, but apparently developed a drug problem. I would check on the car every week to see if there was any progress. Finally, after a year he told me he painted 90% of it, but he’s asking for more money than we originally agreed. I drive there on a Friday afternoon unannounced, and see my car outside the shop (worth a ton of money) with the shop owner no where in sight. His neighbor told me he had left the car outside for 3 days and several people have tried to steal it. So I call a tow truck and tow it to my garage right away. On my home the shop owner calls me over and over again. He thought somebody stole the car. He kept calling me for months... I never responded. - MCAMER3

I'm a pretty avid cyclist, which means whenever I have the time, I will ride my bike away from the city I live in, into the mountainous suburbs to challenge myself up some of the local climbs. It was another one of these excursions, I had just rode up and down a big ass mountain, on the road headed back to the city centre. I was fairly tired, still had 40kms to get back home. All of a sudden, I see traffic on the opposite lane stopped for some reason. What I immediately saw next I was not prepared for. I saw an ostrich on my lane, in front of me, running after the car ahead. Wtf, it's not like the country I live in is habitat to any ostriches. Slowly, I follow the ostrich, which is running after the car ahead, faced with a decision: do I overtake the ostrich? Now I'm no expert on ostriches, but I do remember reading that ostriches run really quickly, and that they can be aggressive towards humans. I don't want to become the victim of an ostrich attack, but I do want to get home quickly, as it was starting to get dark. After hesitating for a while, I gave it all I had and overtook the ostrich. The rest isn't that interesting, I managed to get home unharmed. But to this day, it remains one of my most surreal experiences, running into an ostrich on a bike ride.

I did not have a car when I was at uni, which made going out with my friends a bit bothersome. I would constantly stumble home half-drunk in the middle of the night or early morning, wait for the first train to leave, and so on. One day I was visiting friends and the only way back home that late (must have been between 1 and 2 in the morning), was a train which followed some god forsaken country route. My stop lay next to a small wood and a castle. Think 13th century central European castle. I knew the way because I have played there a lot when I was a kid. You have to follow a trail through some fields, past the stables where horses are kept, through a wooded patch that dips into a slope, past the woods around the castle, then along a narrow road between two fields, past an abandoned gatekeeper's house that looks like a set straight out of a horror movie, until you reach a bridge where you need to pass underneath to rejoin civilization. There are no lights anywhere. I was still a bit drunk and I considered just waiting for the next bus, but that would have been hours. It was summer, the weather was nice and I thought 'Well, I know this path by heart. Easy peasy." So I started walking. Everything was fine until I reached the slope. As soon as the terrain dipped, there was zero light. One my left were the woods, completely black. On my right, a hill covered in underbrush completely blocked the moon. I couldn't even see my own feet. There I was, shuffling forward like a complete idiot, only one stray branch away from breaking my ankle. It took me forever to reach the end of the slope. Now, you can imagine what it felt like to stumble in utter darkness in the woods at night. Every sound made me think I was about to get murdered at any moment. It was actually the thought of a former teacher of mine that kept me from panicking. He said that the forest is pretty much the safest place to be at night, because what kind of inept would-be-killer would wait for a victim in the middle of nowhere? We'd be more likely to get mugged in a dark alley near the city center. So I tried to be rational. Eventually, the moon reappeared and I was at least able to see a bit better. I was just walking toward the abandoned house, congratulating myself on my bravery, when – I shit you not – someone jumps out of the woods to my right into my path. It was so quick, I wasn't even able to scream. A fucking jogger in full gear. In the middle of the night, in the woods, without light. He just ran along the road ahead of me as if he had night vision or something. Anyway, I got home unmurdered, swore I'd never do something like that again and did the same exact thing (minus the jogger) a week later. I honestly wonder how I made it past 30. - TZH85

This is a bit of a long one so bear with me : Been hitchhiking since I was about 14, at least once every 2 weeks, buses in Ireland are too expensive and never show up on time. So this story combines two separate hitchhiking experiences that occurred about 3 months apart. (Roughly about 18 at this point) So I'm going from Galway city to this small village in Connemara with not a lot of traffic on route so getting a lift before work was always greatly appreciated. I'm not brilliant with vehicles but a van that looked like it was pulled straight out of Raiders of the lost ark pulls up and the driver who looked like an eccentric Elton John who smoked a lot of ganj offered me a lift directly to the village. Of course I jumped in. If you've ever hitched often you know you're going to meet some nutters. This guy starts telling me of this elite group in the village that he was apart of that rode around on horseback with dogs shooting foxes, I'd been working in the village for 1 year now, official population that love to talk, just over 300 I think and I'd never heard of this. Anyway, don't really believe him, conversation drifts and I hop out when I'm at the village. ... 3 months later I'm making the same trip but this time from the village to Galway, I get picked up by this crazy expensive looking car, sitting inside 3 people dressed in suits, they're heading to a wedding and had an extra seat but they had to pick up their brother first. No problem, not one to complain. So 15 minutes in to the ride and it's very obvious these people are stupid rich, the jewelry, the booze in the car, the car, what they're talking about, so I wasn't surprised when we pull up to this estate. We drive around back and they start honking the horn, the brother however had mixed up the time and had been relaxing in the sauna behind the house. So there we are, sitting between the house and the sauna, drivers honking the horn and this dude walks out bollocks naked from the sauna and struts to the house with everybody in the car laughing. Guess who. Turns out pothead Elton John wasn't lying about his elite status. By far the craziest/weirdest story I have from hitching

This happened in either the late 90s or early 00s So my grandad got jiggy with another woman when he was on holiday once with a lady from Kiribati. Anyway it produced a child, my Aunt. Now several years ago my family decided that we would go and visit her in Kirbati, (for those that don’t know, its on the equator) To get there we had to fly from Fiji on a tiny 50 seater twin prop plane with one toilet at the front. Now being a kid with a lot of food allergies, I had eaten something that didn’t quite sit right, mild case of food poisoning if you will. about half an hour into our flight, my stomach gives me that feeling where you know you won’t stop whats comming, so I got up, and went to the toilet, half way up the isle all hell broke loose, I farted, which wasn’t a fart, it was the beginnings of full blown diarrhea. By the time I got into the toilet and locked the door, my undies were soaked, it was still flowing, I couldn’t stop it. Now I was a good kid so I didn’t want to block the toilet, so I threw my undies in the rubbish and unloaded into the toilet. However. The amount that came out plus the amount of paper I had to use ended up blocking the toilet anyway, and it stunk. Really badly. I would have been jn there for a good 15 minutes, meanwhile the entire plane started stinking of shit. I finished up and cleaned up best I could, but the toilet was done for, it was starting to overflow, I just slowly went back to my seat with the entire plane staring at me. *(DISCLAIMER: Back in the day there was a small amount of water with chemicals to flush with, much more than there is today, a blocked opening means theres no where for the poo to go, and no vacuum to suck the shit down (because its blocked) the more you press the lever the more chemicals (been saying water as it was faster to type) get pumped in. With the toilet blocked, theres no where for it to go except overflow. Now imagine the amount of paper I had to use to block an airplane toilet, and thats why it was blocked))* I had to tell my dad what I had done and he spoke to the flight attendants who had to try clear the mess of a toilet with the water starting to splash onto the floor. It was horrible. We finally got to Kiribati and the plane had to be grounded while they disinfected and cleaned the whole plane as it started to sweat as soon as the heat from outside came in. The plane was delayed for a good while. I only remember this as my Dad brought it up the other day in convo. He thought I put my undies in the toilet which blocked it, I had to assure him it was all TP and shit TL;DR shit myself on a plane and made it get delayed

I was an exchange student in Poland a few years ago. I was freshly 18 and had almost no experience with alcohol. 3rd week of school, we had a "dance" and I decided to attend. It was not at all like the school dances we have in the US. First off, it was held at a club, downtown. Little odd, but ok. Second, it had a bar. I was in the senior class in high school, and we were all 18, so we could drink. I was not ready for that at all. Third, I had just started smoking the week before. My high school had a smoking gazebo, and probably 1/3 of my class smoked. I started smoking to make friends lol. This turned into the perfect storm of me getting absolutely fucking shit faced. After blacking out shortly, I was suddenly outside smoking, and my friends and I were walking to a nearby 24h liquor store. I walked in, visibly inebriated, and bought a mid-sized bottle of vodka. The cashier was hesitant, but when she heard I was American, basically just said "Fuck it, go ham." Probably another 2 hours and another blackout later the police arrive. They start yelling at my class president for wandering in the road. For some reason drunk me decides I should get involved even though I barely speak Polish and am super fucking wasted. I walk up to the cop, and in the worst Polish I've ever spoken, tried to say "LEAVE HIM ALONE". But what came out was "Leave--" and then a pile of vomit all over his boots. "Oh fuck, this is it" I thought, "I'm going to get arrested and deported" The cop looked at me and said in english "You an American?" "Yes sir" I replied knowing I was in deep shit. The cop looked me up and down, looked at the bottle of vodka in my hand and said "You drink shit vodka. Come with me." I was put into the back of the police car, and he started to drive away. My heart sank. 3 weeks into what was supposed to be the best year of my life, it was already over. BUT He stopped 2 blocks away, at the 24h liquor store, brought me inside, and bought me a 100ml bottle of Zubrowka Vodka. He said "This is good, and cheap. Welcome to Poland! Now let me take you back to your friends." As we pulled back up to the club, he leaned back and said "Watch this." He turned on the lights and siren and 3 or 4 kids ran down the block. He was laughing uncontrollably. He unlocked the door, and as I climbed out he shouted "BE SAFE FRIEND!" 20 minuets later I blacked out again, and the next thing I remembered was waking up on the kitchen floor of the house I was living in, feeling like absolute shit. My host mother had made coffee and said "Damn, you had a night, huh?" And that was the craziest night I ever had. Sorry for formatting, I'm pretty shit at it.