Bimql chhetry.

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I accidentally let a drunk girl sleep on my chest and now I can’t stop thinking about her

I was standing alone in the party in a corner. The music was loud, I could barely hear my own voice. Everyone was drinking, I wasn’t. Everyone was smoking weed, I wasn’t. I simply decided not to get toxicated that night. After all I’m here against my will. My friends begged me to come and they brought me here forcefully. And I haven’t seen them for the past 2 hours. Then a random guy I’ve never seen in my entire life leans his elbow on my shoulder. He was so drunk, he points at a girl from across the room and says ‘yo bro -barfs- that girl is is is is eye fucking u duuuuddee haha…. -hiccup- lucky u” then he walks away. The girl saw him pointing right at her. She blushed but she never looked away. We kept eye contact for a few seconds, then I ctook my eyes off. I’m not dealing with this. It’s not going anywhere anyways, just pointless eye fucking….. ok I’ll look at her one last time. As soon as look at her direction I see her walking up to me. Oh shit! This is not good. I’m so not read...

I work in law enforcement. My partner and I just lied on an official police report because nobody would believe what we shot at tonight.

I work the graveyard patrol in a jurisdiction where the trees outnumber the people ten thousand to one. It is a vast, deeply isolated county dominated by dense pine forests, winding dirt logging routes, and sprawling properties owned by people who value extreme privacy. You get used to the quiet. You learn to appreciate the long hours of driving through pitch-black roads with nothing but the hum of the engine and the dashboard lights to keep you company. But the extreme isolation also means that when something goes wrong out here, help is a very long way away. My partner and I were parked near a deserted county intersection, drinking lukewarm coffee from thermos flasks, when the radio mounted on the dashboard crackled to life. The dispatcher’s voice broke through the static. She was a veteran operator, someone who usually handled horrific car accidents and domestic disputes with a flat, unwavering calm. Tonight, her voice was entirely different. Her tone was elevated, tight with genui...

A man’s story to me about his son encapsulates the crazy minds of people today

Context: This took place a few weeks ago. I’m a 30s M army vet, so I’ve got some thick skin. People can have their views, opinions, or whatever. Just be a decent person. I was at a small birthday party for a friend; maybe 10-15 people. They had just moved into their new house on a small plot of land and the neighbors on each side shows up. One was a late 60s white man. Well dressed and spoken. We sat and talk for a while and he was well educated. He started telling me about his two sons… They were both around 40, both quite successful in their respective fields. The older one, A, was a VP for some company and had a mentality similar to his dad, the man I’ve been talking with. Then he starts to tell me about the younger one, B… This son B has been married almost 20 years (around age 20), is a military lieutenant colonel and pilot, and described by his dad as not only a tough MFer that can withstand tons of pain, but also compassionate. Literally described one of the best people I’ve ev...

That time my grandma tried to set me up with our waiter (I was not his type).

Several years ago I was at dinner with my whole family, parents, brother, grandparents. Our waiter was extremely attractive. Broad shoulders, well dressed, well groomed hair, cute smile, sweet personality, EXTREMELY FEMININE. My grandma uncharacteristically had a margarita at dinner and starts bumping my shoulder and smiling coyly at me saying, “Oh, OP, isn’t he cute? He seems about your age!” I was like “grandma I don’t think I’m his type” which she took as a challenge, apparently. Every time this poor dude came by my grandma is talking me up, “Oh my grand daughter thinks you’re so cute! Shes in college you know? Very smart girl. Isn’t she beautiful? Yeah, she won’t be single for very long.” I would have been cringing under the table but our waiter caught on to what was happening and played her up! He starts winking at me, flirtatiously waving at me across the restaurant, when he brings me more water he says, “for my future girlfriend” and “for the most beautiful girl in the room” ...

I found my wife’s diary. I don’t think we’re gonna stay together.

My wife and I have been together since we were teenagers. We met when I was a sophomore and she was a senior. There was something exhilarating about that age difference. I felt like such a badass “cool kid” for being able to swing a date with not only a senior, but a genuinely good-looking one at that. I used that exhilaration to my advantage. Built up my confidence. Learned from her maturity. Hell, she’s the one who taught me how to drive. We made it through the honeymoon phase, and by some miracle of God, we prevailed when she ended up going to college while I was left behind in high school for another two years. That’s not to say it wasn’t difficult. I learned a lot about myself in those two years. It’s kind of insane how paralyzing separation anxiety is. My insecurity grew more and more each day. That’s probably why I asked her to marry me immediately after purchasing our first apartment. I hate saying this just because it makes me sound so creepy, but she was mine. She was the on...

The old man at the local diner bought my coffee for three years. Today, I found out why.

I’m typing this with shaky hands in the parking lot of my local diner, and I just really need to share this with someone. Three years ago, I was at my absolute rock bottom. I had just moved to a new city after a brutal breakup, my bank account was completely drained, and I was working a miserable entry-level job that barely paid for my rent. Every Tuesday morning, I would treat myself to a single $3 black coffee at a small, retro diner down the street. It was my only luxury. On my third week going there, the waitress came to my table, put down my coffee, and said, "The gentleman at the booth in the back covered it for you." I turned around and saw an elderly man wearing a faded veteran cap. He just gave me a gentle, polite nod and went back to reading his newspaper. I was too embarrassed and shy to go over, so I just mouthed "thank you" and left. The next Tuesday, it happened again. And the week after that. Eventually, it became our unwritten rule. Every single Tue...