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Your "I can't believe I did that" story


Superhero

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I had gone to Vegas for my friend's bachelor party. After a weekend of strippers and booze, I sat in McCarran waiting to go home, when South West announced they were cancelling the flight because of some security incident at John Wayne Santa Ana airport. They offered a $50 hotel voucher and a booking on the 3PM flight on Monday.

While me and 100+ other passengers were in line to speak to a ticketing agent, I started chatting with a few guys ahead of me. We somehow hatched a plan to rent a car and drive back to Orange County. On the way to the Avis counter, we picked up 3 more passengers for the ride home.

So by 11 PM we were finally on the road - all of us a bit tenuous, a bit exhilarated at the prospect of spending the next 5 hours with complete strangers.

Any drive from LA to Vegas and back, is not complete without stopping at the In-N-Out in Barstow; so we stopped for double-doubles, sitting together like we were old friends. By the time we got to SNA, it was already 3 AM. I had work at 8, and a client meeting at 11.

 

If that happened now, I'd get a rental and drive back alone, but finances were an issue at the time, so that seemed like the best / most logical decision. Looking back, I'm glad I did that for no other reason than to have a good story to tell to my kids.

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I was a young catastrophe adjuster (property) in Fairfax. I apply my 28’ ladder to a brownstone house, but it is short of the parapet wall and just below the soffit. I decided to muscle up over the parapet wall and inspected the roof. 
 

My decent was much worse. I look over the wall and I can’t even see my ladder at all. I lean way out and finally see the feet of my ladder. I used some chalk to mark where it is. 
 

Then I proceed to muscle down and dangle my feet until I feel something, also trying not to kick my ladder over. 
 

I find some ladder. Then I blindly trust my feet to find a rung. My arms are burning and adrenaline is maxed out. 
 

I get a foot set and continue to test for center of gravity while my arms are shaking. 
 

Now I gotta figure out how to get my hands on the ladder while leaning back/forward/perfect and take a couple blind steps down rungs until I can find the ladder with my hands, still blind. Made it. Holding the top of that 28’ ladder felt like heaven
 

That’s up there with dumbest things I’ve done. 

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Late teenage years, driving a then-decade-old economy car on the middle lane of the freeway. Come up to a dude whos just turtling it, going even slower than the right lane. 
 

I sit patiently behind him (at a fair distance) for a while, expecting him to move over. He doesnt. I drop 2 gears and hit the gas, just about to move to left lane where cars are whizzing by, when the absolutely fuckhead slams on his middle pedal to brakecheck me. 
 

I swerve left harder than i had planned, car overshoots left. I countersteer back right, and tail comes around in opposite way as a tankslapper. I might have see-sawed the wheel a few more times in a wrestling match, but all i really remembered is at some point seeing outside the window everything scrolling by. 
 

Car ended up spinning across 3 lanes of mid-day traffic and smacked into the metal guard rail hard enough to leave a dent. I unbuckled the belt and opened the car. Not a literal scratch on me and miraculously didnt touch anyone else. 
 

Although back then I wish the fuckhead wouldve been tagged in the accident. 
 

Not bad for a 90s econo shitbox though. 

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Got an alarm from the wastewater plant I worked at that the power was out.  This was in the middle of a storm with what was later determined  to be 100 mph straight line winds and very heavy rain.  Instead of waiting for it to settle down, my dumb ass gets in the car and heads in.  I was on a bridge crossing a creek when the wind caught my car and turned it 90° right.  Instantly the view of the road ahead was replaced with the guard rail, then just as suddenly it was the road ahead.  I was even located in the center of the lane, just as before.  I would have doubted my senses except for the piss in my britches and the skid marks on the road the next morning.

All's well, so I head on to the plant.  I get to the plant, get out of the car, and hear a really strange noise.  I look for the source of the sound an I see two pine trees on the neighboring property, about 50 feet tall whipping back and forth in the wind.  The strange noise was the tops of the trees slapping the ground and the wood fibers pulling apart.  That was all I needed to see.  I went into the office building and waited out the storm.  The next day, the trees were still standing, but they were crooked, and died in very short order.  The owner of the property later told me that, after he cut them down, only the pulp mill in Lufkin would take the trunks.  They were too torn up for lumber.

That was the last time I heroed in during a storm.

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Friday before Super Bowl and we got about 4" of snow, but then there was a sheet of ice over everything, like unbelievably slick.  Nobody should have been on the roads...at all.  But in our business, we act like even the mail service is a bunch of pussies and folks are gonna suffer if they don't have our shit.

I drive about 3 miles from our house to work and there is fucking NOBODY on the roads.  That is not all that unusual though at 5:00AM.  I had a little front wheel drive compact car and made it to work,   easy peasy.  I am the only fucker at work.  IDGAF.  I care more than everyone else, right?  I get in my 15' box truck and start out about 2 miles to my first stop, a Target store. About a mile from the warehouse, light turns red, I BARELY touch the brakes, and around comes the ass-end of the truck.  I slide through the intersection backwards after having done a 180.  I was puckering like a motherfucker.  "well that was dumb, but I'm halfway to the store, so let's go!"

I continue to the store and start banging on the back door and hitting the buzzer.  Finally the cleaning lady opens the door.  "Hey Mister Slorch, whatchu doing here?  Nobody out today.  You the only crazy one.  Go home!!! and she's laughing the whole time, as we knew each other. She had walked from her apartment about 3 blocks away, but I started giving her hell for being there too.  "If i bust my ass, only MY ass"

At that point, I knew I'd made a bad mistake.  I limped the truck back to the warehouse, slipping and sliding many times.  Got home safely. In the following days, word got out that i tried to service our customers and it was a mix of "That's commitment" and "That dude is fucked up."  Shoulda never left the house.  That's the bottom line.  I've told that story to my teams many times, " Don't be a dumbass...like me."

It has served me well on subsequent disasters/ weather events.  You have put the worriers at ease, but you also have to manage the fuck outta the heroes.

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5 hours ago, Superhero said:

I had gone to Vegas for my friend's bachelor party. After a weekend of strippers and booze, I sat in McCarran waiting to go home, when South West announced they were cancelling the flight because of some security incident at John Wayne Santa Ana airport. They offered a $50 hotel voucher and a booking on the 3PM flight on Monday.

While me and 100+ other passengers were in line to speak to a ticketing agent, I started chatting with a few guys ahead of me. We somehow hatched a plan to rent a car and drive back to Orange County. On the way to the Avis counter, we picked up 3 more passengers for the ride home.

So by 11 PM we were finally on the road - all of us a bit tenuous, a bit exhilarated at the prospect of spending the next 5 hours with complete strangers.

Any drive from LA to Vegas and back, is not complete without stopping at the In-N-Out in Barstow; so we stopped for double-doubles, sitting together like we were old friends. By the time we got to SNA, it was already 3 AM. I had work at 8, and a client meeting at 11.

 

If that happened now, I'd get a rental and drive back alone, but finances were an issue at the time, so that seemed like the best / most logical decision. Looking back, I'm glad I did that for no other reason than to have a good story to tell to my kids.

You spent 5 hours in a rental car with strangers? You wild man.

Try sharing a hotel room in NYC for 3 nights of Grateful Dead shows. 

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23 hours ago, Upgrayedd said:

Fugly chicks picked up at closing time count?  I’ve got a few of those.

I've been there.  I've also fucked some super hot women that I had no business pulling.  I'm sure they woke up the next morning full of regret. 

 

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On 7/4/2023 at 4:16 PM, Scheiss Meister said:

Got an alarm from the wastewater plant I worked at that the power was out.  This was in the middle of a storm with what was later determined  to be 100 mph straight line winds and very heavy rain.  Instead of waiting for it to settle down, my dumb ass gets in the car and heads in.  I was on a bridge crossing a creek when the wind caught my car and turned it 90° right.  Instantly the view of the road ahead was replaced with the guard rail, then just as suddenly it was the road ahead.  I was even located in the center of the lane, just as before.  I would have doubted my senses except for the piss in my britches and the skid marks on the road the next morning.

All's well, so I head on to the plant.  I get to the plant, get out of the car, and hear a really strange noise.  I look for the source of the sound an I see two pine trees on the neighboring property, about 50 feet tall whipping back and forth in the wind.  The strange noise was the tops of the trees slapping the ground and the wood fibers pulling apart.  That was all I needed to see.  I went into the office building and waited out the storm.  The next day, the trees were still standing, but they were crooked, and died in very short order.  The owner of the property later told me that, after he cut them down, only the pulp mill in Lufkin would take the trunks.  They were too torn up for lumber.

That was the last time I heroed in during a storm.

You sure the skid marks were on the road? 

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On 7/4/2023 at 6:28 PM, 52-80 said:

Late teenage years, driving a then-decade-old economy car on the middle lane of the freeway. Come up to a dude whos just turtling it, going even slower than the right lane. 
 

I sit patiently behind him (at a fair distance) for a while, expecting him to move over. He doesnt. I drop 2 gears and hit the gas, just about to move to left lane where cars are whizzing by, when the absolutely fuckhead slams on his middle pedal to brakecheck me. 
 

I swerve left harder than i had planned, car overshoots left. I countersteer back right, and tail comes around in opposite way as a tankslapper. I might have see-sawed the wheel a few more times in a wrestling match, but all i really remembered is at some point seeing outside the window everything scrolling by. 
 

Car ended up spinning across 3 lanes of mid-day traffic and smacked into the metal guard rail hard enough to leave a dent. I unbuckled the belt and opened the car. Not a literal scratch on me and miraculously didnt touch anyone else. 
 

Although back then I wish the fuckhead wouldve been tagged in the accident. 
 

Not bad for a 90s econo shitbox though. 

When I was in HS I drove a POS 89 Sunbird. There was a main road on the route to school with a posted 25 mph speed limit that was notorious for hiding cops, radar guns at the ready. We were always very careful not to speed there. One day on the way home a woman was tailgating me. She was probably mid 20s, I could see that intense resting bitch face look on her face in the rear view mirror. At some point I just lost my temper and slammed on the brakes. She plowed right into my bumper. I wasn't sure what to do so I just started back up driving. The look on her face and her hand motions in the rear view mirror was absolutely priceless and I will chuckle about it until the day I die. I didn't care if there was any damage to my bumper, but there wasn't a scratch. 

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Ran a marathon on a dare in 2012.  I assumed that the soccer and cycling I did would get me most of the way; stubbornness and fear of failure would get me to the line.  I finished.  Barely.  8-month pregnant wife had to roll me down the hospital hall when I ended up in the ER later that night.

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9 minutes ago, Knoxtnhorn said:

Ran a marathon on a dare in 2012.  I assumed that the soccer and cycling I did would get me most of the way; stubbornness and fear of failure would get me to the line.  I finished.  Barely.  8-month pregnant wife had to roll me down the hospital hall when I ended up in the ER later that night.

So you were right!

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When I moved from the midwest to Seattle in the summer of '99, I figured I could just drive until I got exhausted and then grab a motel room for the night.

What I didn't count on was A) I-90 is empty as shit across South Dakota/Wyoming/Eastern Montana and B) that I had decided to make this drive during the Sturgis Rally. So, first night of travel, somewhere in BFSD I discovered (at 11:30 PM) that there weren't many hotels/motels and the ones that did exist were booked solid for hundreds of miles. I kept driving.

About 2 AM (4 AM, since my brain was on Eastern Time), I decided to try one more place. Pulled up, walked in, and the "proprietor" said- "He just got the last room" as he was pointing to a dude just completing the paperwork.

Dude looks up at me and says- "You look like hell... I'll split the room with you". Looked at the innkeeper, who shrugged and said "two queen beds". So, in a combination of youthful arrogance and exhaustion enhanced stupidity, I agreed.

Was an uneventful experience (dude ended up being an ordained minister who worked for a national non-profit... we actually knew some of the same people), but certainly falls in the category of "What in the hell was I thinking?"

Slept in the backseat of my car (was pulling it behind the moving truck) the next night somewhere in the mountains between Missoula and Spokane.

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Flipped a car.  Broke my foot cliff jumping into 2 feet of water.  Fell asleep behind the wheel on 35 driving back to UT after a weekend home. Went to Mexico in the back of a pickup with 15 guys and a keg.  Picked up a hitchhiker around Waco whose wife kicked him out of the house and dropped him off at the Salvation Army in Dallas. Went to the ER the night Chuck took the boys to South Bend.  Lots of fucking around, significant lack of finding out.  If I’m a cat, I’m down to a couple of lives.

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Driving my jacked up Dodge Ram in high school with my friends following me to a party.  It was at night and we are on some highway, maybe Mopac.  I look in my rearview and see my buddy get into the left lane, presumably to pass me.  I jerk the wheel to the left to cut him off and fuck with him.  When I look back in the rearview, there's another car between him and myself.  I had zero clue they were in the left lane also and I must've missed side swiping the fuck out of them at 70mph by mere inches.

 

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18 hours ago, NWBuck said:

... in the summer of '99, I figured I could just drive until I got exhausted and then grab a motel room for the night...

My story is similar around the same time-frame.  I was a young Navy Lieutenant stationed in Monterey, CA.  I had driven home for a couple weeks of leave to see my fiancée in Ft Worth and then spend a couple of days with my folks in Houston.  Trip starts off badly when my fiancée dumped me as soon as I got to her place.

I was a wreck and just went down to my folks' place and spent some time with them.  I spend the rest of my leave hanging out with family, and then it's time to get on the road back to Monterey.  I leave Houston at 9 AM and just start driving.

The combination of being young, dumb, and a bit emotionally fucked up impacted my decision making skills.  I got to Deming, NM (my normal halfway stop) and said screw it, I'll just go to Lordsburg.  Repeated this process for Lordsburg, then Tucson, then Phoenix.  When I got to Phoenix, I said screw it, I'm going all the way.  I wasn't the smartest with money at that age, so I thought saving the cost of a motel sounded like a great idea at this point.

Drove 27 hours straight.  Pulled up to my apartment complex at 10 AM the next day.  Called my folks and told them I was home safe and got an earful from my Mom.  I think I only drifted off once, but damn was that stupid.   

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Highway stories:  I left central Missouri for Austin at ~ 8 AM.  An hour later, I'm coming up a hill on I-44, on cruise control, getting close to a big truck.  It never occurred to me that being on cruise control behind a giant wind barrier might be stupid, but it turns out it was stupid.  My car lept forward, and I came damn close to ramming the truck from behind.  I instinctively ripped the wheel to the right, did a classic Duke o'Hazard jump off the highway and over the ditch into a greenfield that could not have been more accommodating for my early AWD (Eagle Talon) "sports" car.  Spun 180 deg, ended up rolling backwards on the frontage road.  Got out, finished pissing my pants (I distinctly recall the mid-event thought "oh shit this is gonna hurt"), and looked up the road.  Not 1/4 mile away, a tire shop.  My wheels were packed with mud and grass, but I limped up to Bob's or whatever, they laughed at me, cleaned out my wheels and told me my tires were good and I was still in balance.  Crazy morning.

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Once drove from Santa Rosa, CA to Austin leaving on a Thursday and arriving early Saturday morning/late Friday night including a stop in Scottsdale to party Thursday night.  I made it to the football game Saturday though, definitely wouldn’t try that again.  
 

Right after high school we were partying at a friends house out in the country a bit and we hop in my convertible mustang to go a dance.  Driving back to his house I’m going around a curve about 75 and the backend slides off the road and we are suddenly sideways.  I somehow recover and we’re going straight again still probably doing 65-70 still.  Everyone is quiet as hell for a few seconds then we all yell in celebration of being alive, back tire had grass embedded between it and the rim.  
 

More than a couple trips to Mexico driving down spur of the moment drinking till late into the night then the most sober person driving us the four or five hours back.  Teen and early 20’s boys are really dumb.  

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20+ years ago I had a friend who grew weed and he asked me if I could help him out at his grow house. He told me he'd give me a couple of ounces for helping out and I was always interested in how that kind of thing operated so I said okay and he stopped by to pick me up. It was a whole two story house dedicated to growing and it was a wonder the neighbors couldn't smell it from the outside. There were water lines running everywhere down hallways from bathrooms, in this room it's summertime, in this room it's winter, there was a lot to it. As time went on it became clear I wasn't there to help with anything growing related.  He had had a falling out with his partner and he needed help because he was stealing the entire operation. At that time I was into weight lifting and competing in martial arts tournaments and he told me I was there in case his partner showed up. More guys kept showing up and one of them was out on bail for felony drug possession. I did not belong there but I was stuck without a ride on the complete opposite side of town and of course this was well before Uber and cellphones. 

We were there for hours wrapping up lights and hoses and putting pot plants into taped up cardboard boxes. We made several trips following him to the new location with the back of his truck full of the plants. Several of the boxes came undone and there were pot plants whipping around in the back of his truck on the highway. I don't know how we managed to not get pulled over. Finally, around 3am he dropped me off at my house. I sat there with a bunch of buds that were too green to smoke and never felt more relieved to be back in my own home. I definitely made some changes in what I agreed to and who I hung out with after that. 

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Alright, lots of driving stories. Here’s a Mexico spring break story. 
 

16 years old, Honda Prelude, fake ID, little to no money, like a hundred bucks each. 1994

 

The players:

me - outside line backer

AC - inside line backer

Carr - corner back

Johnathan -safety. 
 

We decide to go to Matamores and Padre for some MTV style fun. 
 

But there’s no way any of our parents are going to let us go. So we make up some BS about staying with someone’s mom at their vacation house. 
 

We make a one hour appearance at said moms house in Galveston to call home and let our folks know we’re alive. This was not our destination. 
 

We get to Padre and hit the beach and fight or fuck whatever showed up in front of us. Still no where to stay. 
 

We sleep four deep in my Prelude near the beach. (There’s more to this that includes a fist fight between me and Carr)
 

We wake up and do a Mexican shower in a McDonalds bathroom. 
 

More beach day. We finally and randomly find one of our cheerleaders who’s mom actually did have a beach house. (We didn’t know this ahead of time). We get some real food and a night in beds. 
 

Alright, so now it’s time to venture across the border, but here’s the kicker. Cheer chick insists on coming with us and bringing her little sister and her friend. 
 

Sister and friend were 13. (No touchy no rapey)
 

So we roll 8 deep in my Prelude to Brownsville. Everyone is drinking and throwing beer cans out of the windows and sunroof. 
 

Suprise!  We get pulled over by highway patrol, so I pull over at a gas station because everyone has to pee.  Kids exit like a clown car and I get a field sobriety test. Friends are reading havoc inside the store. 
 

Somehow the cop let us all load back up and keep heading South like we were about to be Mexico’s problem. Which we were. 
 

To be continued…..

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2002 I decide to move to Miami from Oklahoma. My best friend got a job there and told me how good the partying was and that was all I needed to hear. Packed my 1987 Honda Accord and I was off. Get there, find a job as landscaper and realized how bad I hated it. It just wasn’t home to me, I’m an Oklahoma guy (I know you guys hate it but fuck off it’s my home). I decide I’m going back home and have one final throw down, we end up down in South beach drinking and going bananas and end up getting in a fight with two guys. My buddy and I make pretty quick work of them, and the fight gets broken up by none other than Steve-O. My buddy and I our blown away, this guy was one of our idols. We watched his movies before we would go out and do dumb shit. None the less he asked us if we liked to party and grab his nose in a cocaine gesture. Now I’m no bitch and had done wheelbarrows full of the stuff so of course I was willing. Bad idea. We ended up parting with him until about 10:00 the next day and I thought I was going to die. Woke up the next day and realized I had reached the peak of Everest of my partying days and I was done. Haven’t touched drugs since that day. Did take this bad ass picture IMG_2678.thumb.jpeg.883a28d71beb4df544ee68b0fb0ae123.jpeg

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18 hours ago, Marfa Low Crown said:

in this room it's summertime, in this room it's winter

A minor quibble and this really doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of the story which was wonderful. (Although I’d need to hear more about the backstory to know whether I’m rooting for your friend or whether I hope he wound up getting shot.) But you probably meant to say this room is for flowering (lights on half the day, lights off the other half) and this room is for vegetative growth (lights on all the time). Pot doesn’t grow in the winter. 

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in high school i routinely bought weed from an old black man who sat in a lawn chair in his front yard and sold $20 sacks of dirt weed. ferguson/little pocket in dallas. i was a skinny, nerdy white kid and somehow never got rolled. 

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On 7/4/2023 at 1:49 PM, Elvis said:

I was a young catastrophe adjuster (property) in Fairfax. I apply my 28’ ladder to a brownstone house, but it is short of the parapet wall and just below the soffit. I decided to muscle up over the parapet wall and inspected the roof. 
 

My decent was much worse. I look over the wall and I can’t even see my ladder at all. I lean way out and finally see the feet of my ladder. I used some chalk to mark where it is. 
 

Then I proceed to muscle down and dangle my feet until I feel something, also trying not to kick my ladder over. 
 

I find some ladder. Then I blindly trust my feet to find a rung. My arms are burning and adrenaline is maxed out. 
 

I get a foot set and continue to test for center of gravity while my arms are shaking. 
 

Now I gotta figure out how to get my hands on the ladder while leaning back/forward/perfect and take a couple blind steps down rungs until I can find the ladder with my hands, still blind. Made it. Holding the top of that 28’ ladder felt like heaven
 

That’s up there with dumbest things I’ve done. 

This had me hyperventilating

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I have been airborn twice while driving a car, both when I was 13 and on dirt roads. Managed to land both times without crashing.

My freshman year of high school a buddy and I stole 350lbs of dynamite and blew up, among other things, a row of post office boxes.

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When I was 18 I made it home to Houston after floating the river in New Braunfels in 90 minutes in order to catch a ride to an out of town party.

Basically drove my car as fast as I could the entire time.  Averaged over 100 I think.

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On 7/8/2023 at 10:38 AM, Pdawg88 said:

2002 I decide to move to Miami from Oklahoma. My best friend got a job there and told me how good the partying was and that was all I needed to hear. Packed my 1987 Honda Accord and I was off. Get there, find a job as landscaper and realized how bad I hated it. It just wasn’t home to me, I’m an Oklahoma guy (I know you guys hate it but fuck off it’s my home). I decide I’m going back home and have one final throw down, we end up down in South beach drinking and going bananas and end up getting in a fight with two guys. My buddy and I make pretty quick work of them, and the fight gets broken up by none other than Steve-O. My buddy and I our blown away, this guy was one of our idols. We watched his movies before we would go out and do dumb shit. None the less he asked us if we liked to party and grab his nose in a cocaine gesture. Now I’m no bitch and had done wheelbarrows full of the stuff so of course I was willing. Bad idea. We ended up parting with him until about 10:00 the next day and I thought I was going to die. Woke up the next day and realized I had reached the peak of Everest of my partying days and I was done. Haven’t touched drugs since that day. Did take this bad ass picture IMG_2678.thumb.jpeg.883a28d71beb4df544ee68b0fb0ae123.jpeg

How much coke went into the decision to get a tribal nipple outline? 

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In the summer of 1990, a few buddies and I (ages 17-19) went to an amusement park about 45 minutes from our town. My youngest sister (12) and her best friend went with us. We were just planning on hitting the rides and checking out the talent. That was until we walked by a beer stand and saw one of my ex-girlfriends behind the counter. After drinking free beers all day and making plans to meet up with some girls we met, it was time to meet my sister and her friend at the exit. 

It was pretty quickly determined that my friends and I were incapable of driving home. After a short deliberation with my buddies, I handed the keys to my sister and told her to drive us home. Somehow we made it home without getting pulled over. Thank goodness there were plenty of country roads we could use to avoid the towns on our way home. 

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Fall 97, Castilian 

 

new friends.      Sixth street. 
 

rage and party

 

trying to get home in friends fire bird with standard transmission 

 

guy thinks it’s smart to blast NWA fuck the police for the short drive home. 
 

immediately pulled over. 
 

cop is ready to test and arrest

 

im feeling pretty good and spout off that I can get those kids back to campus. 
 

cop says ok get them home. 
 

can’t drive stick very well. Lurching and nervous 

 

I get the car a block away and switch back to DWI car owner for the short drive back to the castle. 

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In '82 a buddy and I climbed on top of the Jester elevator and rode on it all of the way to the top without anyone knowing we were there.  I got a little nervous not knowing how much headroom would be left after we reached the 14th floor but we were fine.

Weirdly, as we rode back down to the lobby, the elevator gets stuck between the lobby and 2nd floor.  We can hear a crowd gathering in lobby and can see a cop thru the crack in the door and I hear someone say "I think someone is in there."  Panicking, I start studying the linkage mechanism that opens the door and find the right place to pry and manage to get the door open from the inside and we crawled out onto the 2nd floor lobby without getting cut into by the elevator suddenly starting up.

We went to the lobby all innocent, "What someone is stuck in there? Oh my!"

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I was an outside sales rep and we had to wear a tie M- Th and then on casual Friday a polo was allowed. It was summer in Houston so getting in and out of the car all day, walking to warehouses and buildings all day long was fucking miserable. Some rep at some other location wore something that pissed off one of the higher-ups and got casual Friday revoked so we were expected to wear a tie M-F. We were all pissed as hell since it was ridiculous to wear a tie in the first place let alone every day, so I devised a little protest...My dad had some of the oldest, ugliest ties on the face of the earth so I picked out the worst of the bunch- a clip-on that went just past my chest and it was nearly as wide as it was long, horribad shades of yellow and brown. Made of the worst polyester ever manufactured. Wore it with a red short sleeve polo and proudly walked into a Friday morning meeting before all the reps went out into their territories. Everyone was howling with laughter at the hideous get-up, and the regional sales manager (who was cool as hell, he wasn't a fan of the tie rule either but had to abide) said through suppressed laughter that he liked my tie...I unclipped it and said "Here- try it on for yourself" and he just absolutely lost it, died laughing. 

I don't remember if I got another gig shortly thereafter or if they relaxed the rule but that was the highlight of working at that hellhole. 

Edited by Dennis Taylor
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I was 16 years old and had my drivers license all of six weeks. I was driving a 75 Chevy nova two door. I guy I knew kept running his mouth about how fast his trans am was so I stepped up and challenged him. We went to the highway to race. I happened to get the left lane of a two way feeder road. We were racing to top end no quarter mile shit. We ran for about 3/8 of a mile when a car appeared in my lane. I was ahead so I moved over. Then my right back tire got off the pavement and jerked me side ways. It hit a guardrail on the bridge with the passenger door. That turned me straight and I came off the guard rail nose fest bounced one time end over end and then flipped three and a half times side over side. Car ended up on its top. I climbed out the back window and was standing by the highway before the other guy could get turned around. A few scratches on my arm and hip was all the injuries I had. 
 

a few days later I saw my opponent in school. He asked if I knew how fast I was going when I lost it. I told him I no idea. He said he had an auxiliary speedometer on his car that tracked his top speed. His needle was on 136 mph and I was pulling away. That was in Dec of 1981. To this day I don’t know how I survived that wreck. 

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5 minutes ago, BB65 said:

I was 16 years old and had my drivers license all of six weeks. I was driving a 75 Chevy nova two door. I guy I knew kept running his mouth about how fast his trans am was so I stepped up and challenged him. We went to the highway to race. I happened to get the left lane of a two way feeder road. We were racing to top end no quarter mile shit. We ran for about 3/8 of a mile when a car appeared in my lane. I was ahead so I moved over. Then my right back tire got off the pavement and jerked me side ways. It hit a guardrail on the bridge with the passenger door. That turned me straight and I came off the guard rail nose fest bounced one time end over end and then flipped three and a half times side over side. Car ended up on its top. I climbed out the back window and was standing by the highway before the other guy could get turned around. A few scratches on my arm and hip was all the injuries I had. 
 

a few days later I saw my opponent in school. He asked if I knew how fast I was going when I lost it. I told him I no idea. He said he had an auxiliary speedometer on his car that tracked his top speed. His needle was on 136 mph and I was pulling away. That was in Dec of 1981. To this day I don’t know how I survived that wreck. 

Beavis And Butthead Comedy GIF by Paramount+

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On 7/7/2023 at 3:40 PM, Marfa Low Crown said:

20+ years ago I had a friend who grew weed and he asked me if I could help him out at his grow house. He told me he'd give me a couple of ounces for helping out and I was always interested in how that kind of thing operated so I said okay and he stopped by to pick me up. It was a whole two story house dedicated to growing and it was a wonder the neighbors couldn't smell it from the outside. There were water lines running everywhere down hallways from bathrooms, in this room it's summertime, in this room it's winter, there was a lot to it. As time went on it became clear I wasn't there to help with anything growing related.  He had had a falling out with his partner and he needed help because he was stealing the entire operation. At that time I was into weight lifting and competing in martial arts tournaments and he told me I was there in case his partner showed up. More guys kept showing up and one of them was out on bail for felony drug possession. I did not belong there but I was stuck without a ride on the complete opposite side of town and of course this was well before Uber and cellphones. 

We were there for hours wrapping up lights and hoses and putting pot plants into taped up cardboard boxes. We made several trips following him to the new location with the back of his truck full of the plants. Several of the boxes came undone and there were pot plants whipping around in the back of his truck on the highway. I don't know how we managed to not get pulled over. Finally, around 3am he dropped me off at my house. I sat there with a bunch of buds that were too green to smoke and never felt more relieved to be back in my own home. I definitely made some changes in what I agreed to and who I hung out with after that. 

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It’s 1975 and I’m 14. My dad decides I need some life experience or something (once again I’m 14) and sends me off with a harvest crew owned by his buddy. 2 days after school lets out we head down to the TX panhandle and go to work. I’m driving the trucks and combines and working my ass off, 12 hour days were considered short ones. We went through TX, the OK panhandle, SW Kansas, over to Colorado and all the way up through Wyoming before I had to get back for school. It was really a fantastic experience, the guy and his wife treated me like family, I learned a shitload about hard work and how to drink ice cold beer with the crew late at night and still get up at the asscrack and get back to work. Most of the money I made was either sent home or the guy kept it to give to my dad later, I don’t recall, but I had around 7-8 hundred bucks with me when they dropped me off at the bus station in some tiny spot about 25 miles from Montana. They paid for my ticket, told me to stay put for like 9 hours until the bus showed up and they got back on the road. Across the street was a cafe and there was a 1972 Yamaha 250 Enduro for sale out front that was the coolest looking thing I’d ever seen and it just kept looking cooler as the morning went on. I get it in my head that I’m going to buy that bike, ride it home and beat the bus by at least a day! So I ask the bus station guy if my suitcase can go on the bus without me, go across the street and pay $325 bucks for that motorcycle. In retrospect I find it incredibly hard to believe the lady at the cafe sold a 14 year old she’d never seen before a motor vehicle but she did! I had a few hundred bucks in my pocket, a Gulf gas station map, the clothes on my back, a quart of two stroke oil the lady had to throw in and 900 miles to go! I ran out of gas fairly soon and when I was pushing it down the highway a farmer gave me and the bike a ride in his pickup like 40 miles to the next town where I filled up and bought a 2 gallon gas can I bungied to the back by the tail light. . After that the trip went good until it started getting late snd I tried to check into a motel. They wouldn’t rent a kid a room but after calling my dad and the ensuing “WTF are you doing?” conversation they agreed to let me rent a room. I guess my dad didn’t feel like driving to Wyoming or considered my life cheap because when I called him the next morning he said I could keep on with my trip as long as I checked in 3-4 times a day and kept off the highways. So I backroaded it about 750 miles home on a loud ass 250 cc motorcycle with giant knobby tires! Laid it over once on some loose gravel and ran out of gas one more time even with the extra in the can. The hardest part other than getting rooms was figuring a way around Denver and all the suburbs. It took me 3 long days total, winding that thing out about as high as it would go to make it home to The KS/OK border. It took a couple of days for the feeling to come back to my balls after the constant vibration! The ass chewing and punishment for my dumbassery when I made it home sticks with me all these years later, but didn’t stop me from doing much stupider things down the road! After that long trip I think I rode that bike one more time before selling it.

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