Anecdotes.

[Fen]

Drunken Stories are pretty much all I have. So, for starts. My very first time getting drunk in public. (yes, aww).

A few years ago, i had this monstrous resistance to alcohol. Jug down a liter of vodka then drink a beer before going home type. So, I had no limits....or so I thought.
So, there I was at this concert, after spending the day at school/museum, not having eaten anything, surviving in the mosh pit. I left my backpack and glasses under some table, and around the 6th beer I decided that I could use some fresh air.
I go outside, some punker I hadn't met before(never saw him afterward again, either...) asks for some cash. "Meh, what'cha buyin?" "Some wine".
Me, not a wine fan(at all), immediately decide to give them some cash if I could share the wine.White wine.Absurdly cheap white wine.

So, there we were, bout 6-7 people drinking wine on some block stairs at 1 AM, in some dark alley behind the bar. Then this little old guy comes. "OFF MY PROPERTY!" and points a gun at us.
Small note: in my country it's almost impossible to get a gun unless you're a cop, in the army, or a pro-hunter. It's the only time I've ever seen one, and I'm pretty sure it was the same for those other guys
What did the punkers do? Grabbed the guy's hand, unloaded the gun on the floor and start beating the hell out of the oldguy. Shit! So i run off(bottle of wine in my hand), and go..outside of the bar. No idea why I didn't go inside....but meh. I was kind of blind, but I just figured it was my lack of glasses. Some chick was telling me to get some water or something, i was like "no dude, you're drunk. I don't get drunk, ok?". Then another guy comes over "Fen, go home. The cops are here".

Blackout.

Wake up in the bar's bathroom, this little, dirty, 1x1 bathroom, puke on my shirt. I go out, no one but the bartender cleaning up.
"Errr....why are you here?" "I...I don't know. have you seen my glasses?" "nope" "aw...ok". And I go...home? Somehow i ended up going in the opposite direction till i fell asleep on a rock, woke up in another hour, went back to the bar, found my glasses&backpack and went home.
Apparently the cops withheld everyone there except for me because they thought I was funny. Didn't even bother fining the bar for giving 14-year-olds alcohol. Good guys.

[Don Alexander]

Drunken Stories are pretty much all I have. So, for starts. My very first time getting drunk in public. (yes, aww).

That's actually quite a scary story. I'm glad nothing bad happened to you...

Okay, here's another anecdote of my own. It inlvolves alcohol (though not consumed by me), lots of blood (mine own) and role-playing, though nothing to do with In-Time.

Summer 1998. We're at my best friend's house for yet another evening in a long campaign. Our players are taking a while to come in... I call another player, and he is surprised - he had completely forgotten that we would be playing. Hm... He had been at a little party of his football club earlier and had had some beers. But he felt good enough to drive, and would come over.

He arrived about 20 minutes later, which implies he must have driven at a ridiculous speed. And he was completely blasted - it turns out he had drunk FIFTEEN beers, that's five liters...

Well, we finally started playing. After a while, my best friend asks around if anyone wants a malt beer. Several say sure, including myself. He goes up, gets some, comes back down, then realizes he forgot mine. So I mosey up to the kitchen. I get the beer, and want to open it. It look the the complete big kitchen and fail to find an openenr. So I get a butter knife, place it between my thumb and the bottle cap, and push.

pff.

push.

pfff.

PUSH!!!

CRACK!!!

I feel a pressure in my thumb, and stare stupidly at the knife. I'm holding the handle, the blade has broken off nicely at the joint. Hm, powdered steel...

I look down at my hand (the damned bottle cap is still not off) - and that's the moment, the blood starts welling up!! There is no pain. But the broken edge of the knife handle was extremely sharp, and when the blade broke off, the handle's edge impaled itself into my finger... All. The. Way. Down. To. The. Bone.

The next thing I don't find in the kitchen is paper towls, so I stick my finger into my mouth, and start drinking the blood. For anyone who hasn't had the experience, it's rather sweet, but I don't think it tastes very good...

I go downstairs. The other players look at me in astonishment. Since I can't talk, I take my drunk friend's notepad and write something on it in big, capital letters. He stares at it, dumbfounded. Totally pissed. "B... Ba... Band-Aid?? " Finally, some movement comes into the tableaux. My best friend goes upsatirs. I go to the bathroom, and hold my finger under running water. Red stream. "Hey!! Anyone wanna see blood!!" Another player, a most wonderful girl, zooms in "Blood!!! Yes!!!" She starts drawing figures into the splattered blood in the sink...

Looks like the role-playing session is over. We played a massive 45 minutes... Two of the players, another girl as well as the drunk guy, drive home. My best friend's dad, who is a doctor, decides I need to go to the hospital to have that sewn up. So my best friend and the crazy-awesome girl and me drive down to town. It's already pretty late in the evening, not much happening. Guy in front of me was bitten by a fox, is afraid he has rabies.

This part I don't recall so well... We three were sitting in the waiting room, telling some kind of stories... We were laughing so damn hard, the other two got thrown out... The best scene was when I was already lying on the operating table, alone. The two looked in, and I hyperinflated my tummy. They nearly wiped the floor laughing...

Well, the anaesthesist guy is sure in a hurry... After just a few minutes, he pokes my wound. "Does that hurt?" "FUCKING A THAT STILL HURTS!!!" (That was my thought, what I said was essentially identical but a bit less profanity-ridden) "Oh, well, it has to be enough..." and starts sewing. OUCH!

I still have the scar today. I seem to scar very easily. A line, maybe half an inch long, and six dots where the stitches were...

Ah, good times. I still have that knife handle today. It was my best friend's favorite childhood Nutella knife, showing Lehrer Lempel from Max & Moritz...

Ah, bad times... It was the last time that the crazy-awesome girl ever played with us again...

And I just got an e-mail from the love of my life. It's the first time I've heard from her in two years. So I'm going a bit crazy now between , , and ...

[Don Alexander]

I don't scare easily, fortunately.

Sure you do. All it takes is a picture of a tarantula.
(I usually don't try to be pedantic on errors, but seeing you are an English teacher... "to scare" means to be afraid or make afraid. And there's a difference between "You scared me!" and "You scarred me!" - the latter probably being worse. )

I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or not, but I can understand how you are feeling very well.

Awww, don't be jealous! That was ten years ago. And it was unrequited (we did remain friends, but she didn't want more). And she told me she'd be sending me a picture to prove she still existed. That has me worried. She is about as picture-shy as Retiarius. So now I'm expecting an official wedding photograph or somesuch... (If it is, I'll be totally shocked and very, very mad, because obviously she did not invite me to her wedding...) She also mentioned she had bought herself a house!

[Pfhreak]

All of the anecdotes that come to mind involve falling injuries. Since there was brief discussion of Arches Nat'l Park in the picture thread, I'll use that one.

One of the arches in the park is called Sand Dune Arch. There's three sandstone fins with narrow gaps between them, and the arch has eroded out of the middle fin. The narrow gaps make for poor drainage, so the now loose sand has just piled up under the arch, which is easy to climb onto. You can probably guess the traditional activity when there aren't any park rangers around.

The one time I've partaken in jumping off Sand Dune Arch was when I was thirteen. Someone before us had built up a small pile of sand under the arch, but misjudged the placement as anybody jumping would easily clear it. I just stepped off, landed on the pile off-center, and my left knee connected with my mouth. By sheer dumb luck, I didn't lose any teeth, but did split my lip wide open. No-one present seemed to want to jump off after that.

[Fen]

Drunken Stories are pretty much all I have. So, for starts. My very first time getting drunk in public. (yes, aww).

That's actually quite a scary story. I'm glad nothing bad happened to you...

Actually, I'm quite sure the old guy didn't mean any harm and just wanted to be threatening. Sadly, that doesn't work with drunken punkers >.>

As for the police? Eh, I've had my fair share of 4-hour-karaoke marathons in police stations.(if you sing they want you to go away:P).

[Bear]

Ahem *clears throat* And now I shall recount to yee, that most Epic tale of Epicness know as The Epic Tale of the Epic Camping Trip of Drunken Epicness... The Epic.

It twas an epic day.... Okay I'm bored of saying Epic....

It was back in highschool and it had just hit the half term holidays, so myself and my friends Clayton and Ben decided to go camping in the Lake District (Lots of hills, fells, mountains, tairns and of course lakes for anyone not in England who doesn't know what it is). So gathering up our tent and sleeping bags and a change of clothing and not much else as we decide we'll buy supplies on the way, we get a lift up to the small Lake District town of Ambleside to start our camping trip. The plan was to grab some supplies in Ambleside, then set off on a short hike over some crags to the next village along where we would be camping. Me and Ben wanted to grab some drinks and snacks but clayton wanted to head off as it was already 5 in the evening and he wanted to make the campsite before it got dark.

So off we headed tracking up the widing road through the village that led to the public footpaths up through the hill farmland and onto the start of the hills. So after treking for a while, we're all thirsty because Clayton wouldn't give us time to grab the drinks... And the only thing we do have on us to drink is a bottle of Glenfidditch Whiskey... Knowing alcohol and treking don't mix, we headed off anyway passing the bottle back and forth between us all and getting happily drunk...

So its now a few hours later after stumbling our way over the crags and taking several breaks and its starting to get really gloomy like we only have a half hour left before darkness falls. Myself and Ben are like 'Clayton, where the hell are we? We were meant to be at the campsite already'. And claytons like.. I'm not sure, I was letting you two guys lead from behind... In other words we're lost... ish... Fortunately Clayton had remembered the map so we're there, the three of us, trying to spread the map out on the ground so it doesn't blow away and through whiskey tainted eyes try and work out where the hell we were. Clayton says we'll never make the campsite before dark, but we could make it to a tairn (mountain lake) and camp their for the night so at least we've got water. Myself and Ben are like stuff that idea...

And then the most Epic event ever... I stand up, turn around... sniff the air and utter the immortal words...." Isn't that a pub down there?"

Yes people! Pub senses saved the day as it was indeed a pub, with a campsite to its rear... unforuntely it was about 800 feet bellow us and at least a miles trek away. So we head off in the general direction and eventually we're stuck at a steep slope we'd never be able to get down normally without sliding even if daylight... Its now almost pitch black and clayton wants to turn back and camp ontop of the ledge we're on with the wind picking up...

Screw that... grabbing my backpack in a moment of epic pub sensing closeness... I tabogan down the slope, clinging on for dear life, hit a mogol halfway down and take off for a moment... and land just before hitting a tree thats at the side of the river and the bridge accross it... It then starts raining....

Fortuantely Ben and Clayton survive sliding down too and we trek off down the road to the pub in the downpour... 10 minutes later we burst through the pub door, wet muddy and bedraggled and dripping all over the floor... everyone turns to look at us like 'What the hell?' Ben and Clayton turn back to the door like they're wanting to leave... I march up to the bar, drop my backpack on the floor with a squelch and say... " Three pints of larger and a pitch for the night please. "

[Pneumonica]

You know, I almost had a girlfriend who put me in a straightjacket without asking. I say almost because we'd dated a couple of times, she'd been rather forward (and so had I... I'm a bit of an exhibitionist, I'll admit, which is probably very odd for somebody who's posted only one picture to the forum), but we weren't really going out yet (though things were looking up). I ended up getting really tired and dozed off while she was fixing hot chocolate. When I woke up, the skink had somehow managed to put me into a straightjacket without me awakening until a bit into too late.

She found out the hard way (as did I, for that matter) that scrawny guys with flexible joints can get out of any such contraption in less time than one might think. It certainly felt like a long time at the time, but it was less time than it takes, apparently, for a girl to take a shower, get prettied up and dressed up, and, from the sounds of it, touch herself before coming out to molest the now-subdued date (listening to that was not especially morale-boosting).

I managed it off as she was getting (un)dressed. The bathroom had a turn-lock in the knob, which has a hole at the opposite end intended to insert a special turnkey to unlock from the other side. One trick I once learned when I was a very young child is that you can jam those locks with a chopstick or knitting needle stuck into that hole just right to jam up the internals. So I locked her into her bathroom (one door, no windows, sucks to be her), grabbed my things and departed. Never saw her again - I think she may have bolted. I didn't see her in class and she surely never called.

Scary moment, but rather uplifting after all was said and done.

[Bear]

And the body of the mostly naked psycho girl is still there today, locked behind that chopstick jammed door, her ghost waiting to enact ebil revenge upon the person that locked her there.

[Don Alexander]

Scary moment, but rather uplifting after all was said and done.

Okay. bear still holds the "weirdest place to have sex" crown. You now get the "scariest date" crown. Any contenders??

@bear: Awesome pub sense win. Well, bears are attracted to human settlements...

@bear #2: Cue American remake of Japanese horror movie.

[Pneumonica]

And the body of the mostly naked psycho girl is still there today, locked behind that chopstick jammed door, her ghost waiting to enact ebil revenge upon the person that locked her there.

It's quite possible. Well, not to this day - it's been years, and I'm pretty sure the landlord would get curious as to why the rent checks had stopped. But if it did happen, I can't say I'd be too miffed. However, since the hinges were on her side, I'm sorry to say that I'm pretty sure she could get creative. And failing that, brute force is still an option.

@Don: Somehow, when it comes to "scariest X", I always seem to win these.

[oni]

Scary moment, but rather uplifting after all was said and done.

Okay. bear still holds the "weirdest place to have sex" crown. You now get the "scariest date" crown. Any contenders??

@bear: Awesome pub sense win. Well, bears are attracted to human settlements...

@bear #2: Cue American remake of Japanese horror movie.

* Badum chink!*

[Bear]

We could make Ma3 Forumites, the movie with all the weird anecdotes and stuff we have...

[Dirty n Evil]

Okay, this is another story from my days of working at a convenience store when I was in my 20's... this is the story I was robbed at gunpoint. And believe it or not, it's actually a bit funny in a scary way.

It's about a week and a half into November, and about 3:30 am that I'm working the overnight crew at my job. I'm in the aisles doing some ordering, while my partner Pete is in the backroom on the phone talking to his girlfriend. The door opens, and right away I know there's trouble. The person who's just walked in is wearing a pillowcase over their head, and has a towel wrapped around her right hand. I stay there for a moment, hoping she might scoot on her own - but not wanting to take too long, least Pete come out and spook her and possibly get shot. But it's clear she's not leaving right away, so I peak my head over the aisle of cookies and tell her that I'm sorry, you can't wear masks in the store - you'll have to take that off or leave the store. She responds back "Hey, I'm going to a Halloween party... it's my costume." Now, Halloween is on October 31st for those of you not in the US - this just doesn't fly. Plus, as she speaks she has a very distinctive accent and I realize I know this customer. She used to frequent the store during the days. But I tell her again, that it doesn't matter if she's going to a party, she can't wear the hood in the store. I'm doing this rather loudly so my co-worker Pete can hear me, and realize that something's going on so that he can get ready if something goes badly. She tells me again, "Hey, I'm just going to a party." I tell her I'm sorry, but unless she takes off the hood she'll have to leave the store. I'm doing this mostly hidden in the aisle, not making myself completely in her view.

Well, she's done with me giving her chances to think twice about this, and points up the hand with the towel wrapped around it... and sure enough, there's a snub nosed pistol in there. "Get beind the fucking registers and give me you money." What surprised me was how calm I became. I wasn't worried, I just set down my ordering book and walked with her right behind me with that gun pointed at my head. As I open the first register, she's clearly shaking... with a gun nearly at my temple. "Do you want to die? Do you want to fucking die, man?" Now, at this time Pete's finally caught up that something's going on, and he sees through the 2-way mirror that she has a gun to my head. So he's hitting the silent alarm and calling 911. But he hears her ask that question, and I catch myself saying in this dry... almost bored tone no, not really. Pete tells me later he nearly leapt through the door to the backroom and smacked me upset the head himself when I said that. "Chris, do not be sarcastic to the twitchy crack addict with a gun to your head!"

She gets the money (which totals less than $25 all together) and starts around to the exit. I just step back from the registers with my hands up, but looking away from her eyes so as to not antagonize her. She pauses near the door, her hands still shaking as she's waving the gun. "I should fuckin' kill you man, I should fuckin' kill you right now." Then she runs out, losing the cap on her head. Pete waits until he hears a car peel away and dashes out after them, but I tell him to not do it - I'm worried about them taking a pot shot at Pete as he tries to get their license plate number. But he finds the cap, which humorously enough was to the Police Academy... the robber had once tried to become a police officer.

We were well liked by the officers in our area, and they were there five minutes after the robbery was over. Pete described the pickup truck they were driving, but they drove backwards so that he couldn't see their plate number. But he did see the little residential complex they turned down, so the police went and found the truck... and her. Pete and I have the store closed up, and he asks me, "We actually know her, don't we?" I tell him we do, that she was this New York Puerto Rican who used to come around during the days - and he quickly confirms that with a nod.

So, our bosses have to get called as happens at 7-11 (the chain I worked for) when there's a robbery. Here's what's really funny - they have to get both the store manager and the district supervisor. The district supervisor at that time was my father. He's flipping out, making sure I'm okay. Okay? I'm so oddly mellow you'd think someone slipped me something. The police come around, saying they think they have the suspect and would like me to confirm their identity. I say sure, and ride in the back of the police car to the location. They have her outside (the money's gone - she's already bought crack and smoked it), talking to some of the deputies and I don't even take a moment to say that's her. The officer is taken aback I confirmed it so quickly - but I explain she used to be a frequent customer, and he says all right and drives me back to the store.

What I don't see (but the officers relate to me later) is that she's then told that she's been positively identified and is being arrested for armed robbery. She says, "What do you mean I've been identified? They didn't see my face! They didn't see my face!" The officer paused, and asked "How do you know they didn't see your face?" She froze up, and then faked an epileptic fit. They sent for an ambulance (just in case), and put her in jail.

I go back to the store, and my father and my store manager Wayne are counting everything, seeing how much was actually taken, and reviewing the tape to see how it went down. Both Pete and I are chilling out, waiting for them to relieve us because that's generally company policy - you get held at gunpoint, you kinda get the rest of the night off! But we're so relaxed, that they both leave us to reopen the store and finish our graveyard shift. It was so bizarre, but we laughed about it.

We're both anxious to go to court over this - we had a reputation at our store that nobody got away with nothing when the two of us worked there. (He was a redneck with a Napoleon complex, I was the psycho hockey player.) Well, it turns out it never went that far. The robber made a deal with the judge to go to an insane asylum up in New Jersey, where the rest of her family was. And even after she did that, then served her time... she wasn't allowed back in the state of Florida. Ever.

Now, just so you know... yes, I did think of grabbing that gun when she had it at my head. It would have actually been easy. But I'm typically known as an unlucky person, and while I wasn't worried about being shot myself I just KNEW if I had tried to take the gun from her with my luck Pete would get shot through the paper thin walls. After the entire thing blew over, the police officers came back and asked if both me and the store manager if it was all right for them to keep the video of the robbery. You see, the video didn't have sound and they thought that the way I behaved was perhaps the best they've ever seen of a robbery victim to not cause the robbery to turn ugly. Of course, they didn't hear me respond snarkily to her. After the police left with that request, Pete snickered and smacked me in the back of the head because he couldn't do it earlier.

[Don Alexander]

Awesome story, DnE. The God of Snark.

And the woman's "How could they see my face?" is self-pwnage FTW!!!

[Bear]

Just goes to show you everyone... Don't do Drugs... Or DnE Is gonna bitchslap you into jail