Bimql chhetry.

When I moved into my new place I was in that phase where I kept telling people I was "fine" and technically I wasnt lying. Like I had wifi, I had unpacked maybe three boxes. I had one plate, one fork, and Im pretty sure the spoon was actually from a yogurt cup. Most nights id eat cereal for dinner. Sometimes just peanut butter on a tortilla standing at the counter. Then id scroll tiktok until my eyes burned and fall asleep to those true crime videos where the guy has a weirdly soothing voice. Just so it wasn't so quiet. Anyway the building has this elevator thats been "temporarily out of service" since like 1987. One night it broke again, shocker, and someone from management taped up a sign: ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER (AGAIN). SORRY. I was having one of those evenings where you feel like you need to do something or youll go insane so I grabbed a sticky note and added underneath: If you need help with groceries or whatever Im in 3B - Alex Then immediately thought wha...

So today the wife(22F) and I(22M) saw an ad on instagram for $6 CiCi’s pizza. We love a good deal so we had to go, regardless of the quality of food. We didn’t get the deal, but we were already there so paid full price anyways. CiCi’s was pretty mid, but we ate a ton for $20(20 slices), so overall would rate it 6/10. After this, we walked around a discount furniture store nearby just to look around. I farted a little in the store on the couches without issue. After this we decided to go get gas on our way home. We were at the Circle K (God bless Circle K). My wife asked me some dumb question and I responded saying “you know what I think about that?” and then attempted to fart. It was not in fact a fart, I shat myself. She didn’t realize I tried to fart, as the shit was mostly silent. I then told her I had to go in to the store, to the bathroom, because I shat myself. She was so confused, asking if I was joking, because we were only a minute from home. I realized she was right, so wadd...

For context, I am referencing the famous tweet that blew up a few years ago, and adding my own encounter- "My closest encounter with the mafia is I went to a starkly empty pizza place in Rhode Island once, they seemed utterly confused that I wanted a pizza, it took 45 minutes to make, they gave it to me for free, and it was the best pizza I've ever had" Now here's my story: I'm a Chicago Cubs fan, but have lived in the Pittsburgh, PA area all my life. Earlier this season, when the Pirates were in Chicago, I decided to go to a sports bar to watch the game. Specifically one I've driven past a bunch but never given a try. Pittsburgh Sports Bar in Castle Shannon. I went in there about 5-10 minutes before first pitch, in my Cubs gear, and there was one woman tending the bar, with an old couple sitting at the end of the bar. They both stared at me as I came in, as if I was an alien. Figured it was because I was wearing opposing team's gear. No greeting or anyth...

There was a husband and wife who argued constantly in the house opposite my front door. I had just moved into the area so I wasn't sure how long this had been going on for. One day the sounds came to a halt. Maybe they had resolved their issues or maybe divorced. A few days later the police found the wife's cut up body in a suitcase in the local body of water, and the husband was arrested. Haven't heard any other news since.

I thought I was being nice. Being the perfect boyfriend who recognized when his partner needed a day of relaxation and pampering. It was a mistake. All of it. And I possess full ownership of that decision. She’d just been so stressed from work. She’s in retail, and because of the holidays, the higher-ups had her on deck 6 days a week, 12 hours a day. She complained to me daily about her aching feet and tired brain, and from the moment she uttered her first distress call, the idea hatched in my head. How great would it be, right? The perfect gift. I didn’t want to just throw out some generic 20 dollar gift card for some foot-soaking in warm water; I wanted to make sure she got a fully exclusive experience. I scoured the internet for a bit. For the first 30 minutes or so, all I could find were cheap, sketchy-looking parlors that I felt my girlfriend had no business with. After some time, however, I found it. “Sûren Tide,” the banner read. Beneath the logo and company photos, they had pl...

I am a 42-year-old male, I consider myself healthy, and I’ve always been active, exercising regularly. I never imagined I would go through what I experienced on December 14th. That Sunday was a perfect day, just a regular, peaceful one. I waited for my wife to get home from her shift (she is a doctor), we went to the grocery store, laughed, and talked. In the evening, we ordered some takeout, watched Netflix on the couch, and went to sleep around 11 PM. Everything was normal. Total peace. My memory of that day ends exactly there, with my head hitting the pillow. The next memory I have is opening my eyes at 5:00 AM, lying on a gurney in the ER, surrounded by bright lights and hospital noises. What I am about to tell you is a reconstruction of what happened in that interval, based on my wife's account. And I’ll say this upfront: if it weren't for my dogs and my wife, I wouldn't be writing this today. **The Canine Alarm** Around 1:00 AM, I got up to go to the bathroom. I have...

In the house on the corner of Sycamore and 47th, where the porch sagged like a tired back and the wind always whispered secrets through the chimney, the Jacksons were plotting a Christmas revelation. Not a soft one. Not a gentle, cocoa-sipping, “let’s talk” kind of truth. No, this was a Jackson-style truth—loud, dramatic, and dipped in a little bit of chaos. Theresa Jackson, mother of three stair-steppin’ babies—Tyrone Jr. (11), Abeni (10), and little Theresa (9)—had a plan. A plan stitched together with red velvet, white fur trim, and a kiss that would shake the foundation of childhood fantasy. See, the Jacksons believed in honesty. Not the kind you whisper behind closed doors, but the kind you shout over the sound of frying bacon. And this year, they were gonna tell the kids the truth: Santa Claus was a lie. A beautiful, jolly, gift-giving lie. And they were gonna do it with flair. Tyrone Sr., a man that would do anything for his family, agreed to don the suit. He’d sneak in, Theres...

I work in the XXXREDACTEDXXX. My company CEO has been trying to keep everybody from learning a pretty terrible secret he's been keeping. Most of his closest allies know the secret, but just don't care because he's been shoveling money and power to them. (Not from his OWN wallet, mind you! He's been selling off \*company\* assets, but using the money to basically bribe people.) So, basically, he's surrounded by people he's bought. But, he's been lying to the board and to the public this whole time. Well, funny thing about that: This scandal he's been caught up in which he's been lying about – he's been accusing the previous CEO and pretty much everybody else of being involved. He even has been threatening to "release all the info" for, like, a year or two. Well, now, the board is actually demanding that he release everything! And it all points back to him! So, this is where I come in. I'm just a tech guy who has to assemble technica...

Merry Christmas to me. What was supposed to be a life changing point for the good is now a huge nightmare. Me (45 M) and her (44 F) have had a long distance relationship for going on three years. There were talks of her moving to be with me (15 hours away) for nearly a year, but when I was laid off in July (pending a 2 year contract in which I must stay with the company remote to earn my severance), we decided six months ago that I should move there. For the last six months I have been making arrangements. I sold my house in a bad market and barely broke even. I sold or gave away most of my possessions. I had a full three bedroom house and now literally everything I own fits into a Honda HRV. Fast forward to Christmas break and it is finally time for me to move. I have been sending her Xmas gifts for months in anticipation. We have talked daily about all of our plans. I was supposed to start driving yesterday and the night before she tells me that there is a problem. She tells me t...

I was very high tolerance heroin addict daily for 2 years I could afford it and I liked it. How opiate roll is the next dose takes more to reach the same effect. And his opiates is eventually there will some form mismatch involving environmental or physiological that effects how you dose was metabolized and overdose occurs. I was beginning to mix glad was afraid went up opioid dependence dr. I was put on 600 mg morphine time release a day to about serious withdrawal. About a year of no heroin I switched from the morphine to 8 mg Suboxone and over the next 15 months gradually taper down to 1 mg. Withdrawal sentence were very close to full-blown when you taper after a milligram. I made 2 topers after 1 mg both tapers pretty much full-blown withdrawal for 12 days. I just stopped at 500 µg suboxone and did not expect what was coming. It was worse than I thought longer than I thought way longer than I thought, but you don’t end for three weeks of straight chronic sickness. Akasthesia tha l...

So, he traveled a lot for work. Or at least, that’s what I thought. It was always framed as temporary. Just a few days here and there. Conferences, client meetings, last-minute flights. I never questioned it because he never gave me a reason to. He sent photos from airports. Complained about hotel beds. Texted me when he landed. It all looked normal. The moment everything cracked wasn’t dramatic. It was stupidly small. He mentioned being in Chicago for a work thing. I asked him how the weather was because I’d just seen a storm warning pop up on my phone. He paused. Then said it was fine. Clear. Cold, but fine. Later that night, I checked the weather again out of pure boredom. No storm. No warning. I brushed it off, told myself I misread it. But that pause stayed with me. After that, I started noticing little inconsistencies. Dates that didn’t line up. Flights that didn’t match what he said his schedule was. Hotel names that changed when he retold the same story. Nothing concrete, but ...

The divorce shattered me. I spent my days broken, trying not to cry in front of my six-year-old. She said something that floored me. "Daddy, when I'm sad, I call Mommy." I thought about telling her that was impossible for me, as her mom would hang up instantly. Then it clicked. And I called my mom.

A coworker of mine got caught napping under his desk during work hours. Not head down, not eyes closed at his computer fully horizontal tucked away like a storage item. When management asked him about it he didn’t apologize or pretend it was a one time thing. His actual defense was that standing desks are “discriminatory against people who prefer lying down” He then submitted a formal complaint to HR requesting accommodation for a “horizontal work position” I wish I were exaggerating. He used those words. It somehow didn’t end there. Since then, he’s been openly advocating for company provided nap pods, arguing they’re “productivity tools” and citing tech companies that have them. He talks about it with total confidence, like he’s leading a workplace wellness revolution instead of trying to justify sleeping on the job. The wildest part isn’t even the nap it’s the absolute commitment to the bit. No embarrassment. No backtracking. Just full belief that the problem isn’t him sleeping at ...

I was 16 when this all happened. We lived in the Arizona desert back when we still lived on the farm. Yet, i still wonder what the hell we experienced all those years ago. It started subtly, like most things out here in the quiet hum of the Arizona desert. You live out here long enough, you get used to the strange sounds – the coyotes’ evening chorus, the distant rumble of a passing train, the wind carrying dust devils across the mesa. We raised goats, grew some tough, drought-resistant crops. The nearest town was a good hour’s drive, which suited us just fine. The first sign was the dogs. We had three working dogs, loyal and fierce. Usually, they were a symphony of barks at anything that moved too close to the property line – javelina, bobcats, even the occasional lost hiker. But a few nights back, they went from their usual boisterous alerts to a low, guttural whine that felt different. It wasn’t anger or aggression; it was pure, unadulterated fear. They huddled by the back door, t...

So I (25f) visited my friend (22f) at her house for the first time. Her parents were home and invited me for dinner. I agreed happily and ate a good dinner. Afterwards my friend wanted to make some cupcakes when her dad walked past, looked at his DAUGHTERS ASS and slapped it. Straight up hand to asscheek and the clap resonated through the room. I was stunned. He didn't say anything to make it into a joke or anything, he just walked to the sofa and sat down. ​Some time ago she had told me she got pregnant when she was about 11yrs old and put the child up for adoption. She said it was a stranger who attacked her but now im wondering if that is a lie. ​This whole thing is so strange. There is no way this is normal?? ​What can I say to her to help?

I’m a personal trainer and I thought I’d heard every unrealistic expectation by now. I was wrong. I had a new client come in for their first session. We did a full 45 minute workout warm up, strength work, cooldown, the whole thing. Nothing extreme just a solid introductory session. At the end they looked at themselves in the mirror and asked when they’d “start seeing results” I assumed they meant soreness, energy something like that. Nope. They meant visible muscle definition. After one workout. When I explained that fitness takes consistency and time they got angry. Said I’d misled them. Demanded a full refund because they “didn’t look any different” When I refused, they accused me of false advertising and actually threatened to sue me. A few days later I found out they’d posted about me on social media calling me a scammer who “promised results and delivered nothing” That was already frustrating enough but then came the part that really broke my brain. They’re now advertising their...

So this happened a year and half ago, during the summer. I had just dropped out of university and I was struggling to find a stable job to pay the bills, scraping short contracts in a museum gift shops here and there when they needed someone to sub for an employee on leave/holiday. Sometimes I worked 7 days/months so times were tough. In parallel, one of my best friends who had just graduated needed a permanent employment contract asap so she could renew her visa, and just had an interview with a company for a position with a decent pay and tons of benefits. So we were talking about our employment adventures and our serious need for luck when I joked “hey maybe we should pray to Tyche, The Greek Goddess of Fortune, for some of that luck!”. For context, my friend and I (mostly me but she still loves it) are huge Greek Mythology fans, so it didn’t came out of nowhere. Then I thought fuck it, what do we have to lose. I grab a candle and a lighter as well as some bread, light up the candl...

So I fell down the weirdest history rabbit hole last night and I honestly can’t believe this isn’t talked about more often. We always romanticize the 1920s as this sophisticated era of Gatsby parties and class, but it turns out the richest men in the world were literally lining up to get monkey junk sewn into them. ​There was this Russian-French surgeon named Serge Voronoff. He wasn't some back-alley crackpot, he was actually a highly respected doctor who studied under Nobel prize winners. But he had this obsession with aging. He basically decided that the reason men get old and tired is because their testicles stop working as hard (I guess?). His solution wasn't vitamins or exercise. No, his big idea was to take testicles from baboons and chimpanzees, slice them extremely thin like carpaccio, and graft them onto the testicles of human men. ​The logic was that animals have this raw, primal energy, and by attaching a piece of that "essence" to a human, the human would...

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird,” my wife sang, rocking my daughter’s crib back and forth. Sitting up in bed and rubbing my temples, I felt that familiar feeling come over me. My wife was so loving, so deeply affectionate towards our little Roxanne. I remember when she was first born I, shamefully, grew a little jealous. I quickly remembered that this was natural, however. A mother’s love is a force to be reckoned with, and I, a mere mortal man, was no exception to the rule. “And if that mockingbird don’t sing, mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” I stared at the monitor, tears welling up in my eyes. I felt so blessed to have her. So blessed to be able to experience this life with her, through the good times and the bad. I couldn’t have asked for a better family. My daughter’s crib continued to sway gently back and forth as her mother sang. “And if that diamond ring turns brass, mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass.” I figured it was time to go ...

I went up to him and angrily asked, "since when did you eat pumpkins?!" seemingly out of context Him and the girl were shocked and also confused but just stood in silence for whatever fuckass reason, i started yelling "cheater! cheater! pumpkin eater!", over and over, aggressively getting louder each time. Yeah i dont know what came over me, i went home later that day and just sobbed.

My swedish coworker microwaves fish in the office break room every single day. The smell permeates three floors. It's suffocating. Multiple people have asked her to stop. Politely at first. Then more directly. Her response every time? "This is normal in sweden. Canadians are just too sensitive." Cultural differences are fine. But they don't override basic office courtesy. You share a workspace with other people. If everyone is telling you something you're doing is making the environment unbearable, you adjust. She refuses. Acts like we're the problem for being bothered by it. Now the entire floor hates her. People avoid the break room during lunch. The smell lingers for hours. And she just keeps doing it like she's making some kind of point. I don't care what's normal in Sweden. This isn't Sweden. And even if it were, consideration for the people around you should be universal. I was sitting outside on my break yesterday just to escape the sme...

So I (21M) sent my girlfriend (21F) this Instagram reel of Batman doing his thing, bro was brooding, jumping off rooftops, looking cool as hell. I sent it to her like, “Lowkey this is gonna be me one day.” Without hesitation, without even a pause to consider my dreams, she hits me back with: “You can’t be Batman.” No explanation. No “babe maybe start with cardio.” Just straight up denied my entire vigilante career path in four words. I’m still sitting here trying to figure out if she meant A) I’m not built like that B) I’m emotionally stable (tragic) or C) She doesn’t trust me with a grappling hook. Pray for me. My Gotham era might be over before it even started.

This happened last month, but it stuck with me. We had this new guy - mid-20s, super laid back, really friendly but kinda clueless with admin stuff. HR was onboarding him and needed some documents, and apparently one of the things got flagged because his credit history was almost nonexistent. He looked so confused, like he didn’t even know that was a thing. He kept saying, “But I’ve never missed a payment,” and HR had to explain that not having history is its own problem. Then during lunch, he admitted loud enough for a few of us to hear that he avoided anything credit-related because his parents told him “credit cards are how people ruin their lives.” He just assumed avoiding credit meant he was being responsible. Everyone kinda paused because… honestly a lot of us grew up with that same mindset. He’s fine now, HR cleared everything and he’s building his history slowly using Fizz card, but watching him panic and then watching everyone silently relate to him was kinda eye-opening. Mos...

I'm 24m and have basically no dating experience. At the beginning of October, I met a 23f while doing some volunteering. We would often see each other while volunteering and chat briefly. I got to know her a bit over the last few months. One day, she is talking about a political event she is going to, and I tell her I'm going too. She says it will be fun and a great time. She had gone in the past, but I've never gone before. The day before, she asks what my schedule is for the event, and that she will see me there. I am there, and we eventually meet up. She introduces me to her friends and begins taking me around, and introduces me to politicians and people in state government. I had a great time and got to meet so many people, and really enjoyed seeing her. The day after, she texted me and said she was so glad I went and could meet her friends, and that she had a great time hanging out. The next week, I was thinking about her and how I really wanted to see her again. I de...

Let's call my roommate Kevin. Living with Kevin has honestly felt like a social experiment no one approved. I knew he was a little… off… when we first moved in, but I didn’t realize how deep it went until the Great wifi Incident of last month. So our internet bill went up by like $12. It was annoying, but not the end of the world. I assumed the company raised rates like they always do. But Kevin? No. Kevin storms into the living room holding the bill like we had committed a crime. He goes, dead serious, “Which one of you keeps using too much Google? They’re charging us extra.” I thought he was joking. I laughed, big mistake. He doubled down and starts listing “internet-heavy activities” he’s noticed: – me watching YouTube while cooking – our other roommate playing Spotify – someone downloading a big PDF that one time He even said, “And you guys always have so many tabs open, that stuff adds up.” This man genuinely believed the wifi company charges per Google search like some k...

Disclaimer : this is a TRUE story When I was a little girl being raised by an abusive mother , I started wondering about my own children and if I'd be a good mother to them. It was my biggest concern. Not school , not sports , not clothes , how I'd raise my own children when I became a mother someday. And then the visions started. The visions of this baby girl. She was beautiful. I saw her everywhere and and I felt such comfort , like I knew her and loved her. Then it became a nightmare. Every time I talked about this baby , I was silenced and told to stop talking , she doesn't exist , they'll throw me in the crazy hospital if I ever mention her again. I never really stopped talking about her and no matter how much I clamied that she was my daughter , nobody would believe me. I even knew her name. for this story , I'm going to say her name was bree. Bree was presented to me like found treasure. She made me feel like I was insane. I had visions of Bree frequently. T...

I’m an only child with both parents working since I was little. My mum used to leave early every morning and return around 4:30 pm. My grandparents were involved here and there (bringing lunch, picking me up from the bus stop) but I mostly grew up on my own. I never minded it, but I was always very close to my grandparents. In mid 2016, my grandmother passed away. By the end of that same year, something happened that I still think about to this day. It was a normal day. I was prepping for my semester exam, stressed and doing last-minute revision from morning till evening. My grandad came over because we had seepage on our walls and he needed to assist the plumber. He came into my room, touched the damp wall, explained things to the plumber, and everything felt routine. Around 5 pm, I was exhausted and took a nap. My mum was prepping dinner in the kitchen and my dad was still at work. I woke up after 2 hours, but something immediately felt off. The house was quiet. My mum wasn’t home. ...

Quick recap for anyone new: My roommate got super drunk, tried to kiss me, I turned her down because she was wasted, then she hid from me for days out of embarrassment. Somehow everything turned around in less than a week and now we’re together. (Full original post + previous updates here: https://www.reddit.com/r/stories/s/N1WyMis5Wp) We told the roommates. They went crazy-happy, teasing us, cheering, the whole thing. She just stood there blushing into her coffee with the biggest smile she couldn’t hide. Tuesday night — Mexican place by the river. She knocked on my door looking unreal. I told her she was stunning (I am still shy saying stuff like that) and her face lit up like I’d given her the world. She said maybe this is the first I saw you complimenting something, haha. Restaurant was packed because of the Christmas market, but we didn’t care. Tacos, margaritas, non-stop talking and laughing. After dinner we walked along the river again, found our quiet spot, sat wrapped in each ...

I had just given birth when my eight-year-old daughter ran into the hospital room, her eyes wide and alert. She closed the curtains, then whispered right against my ear: “Mom… get under the bed. Right now.” My heart clenched, but I did as she said. The two of us lay close together beneath the bed, trying to keep our breaths as quiet as possible. Suddenly, heavy footsteps entered the room. Just as I tried to look out, she gently covered my mouth—her eyes filled with a fear I had never seen before. And then… The instant Rebecca slipped into the hospital room, her small sneakers barely making a sound on the linoleum floor, I sensed something was wrong. She was only eight, but her eyes—usually bright with mischief—were wide, sharp, and terrified. She pressed a finger to her lips, rushed forward, and with surprising strength pulled the curtains shut. The newborn slept in the bassinet, unaware of the sudden tension filling the room. “Mom,” she whispered, leaning so close her breath trembled...