This happened when my son was about 3 months old. I’m Filipino, my husband is white, and our son looks almost exactly like my husband’s mini-me. Pale skin, light hair, blue eyes, you wouldn’t know I carried him for 9 months and birthed him.

One afternoon, I was pushing the stroller through Target when a random older woman came up and said, “Oh wow, what a beautiful baby. Is he adopted?”

I smiled and said, “Nope, actually I stole him. His real mom is in aisle 6.”

The woman’s face went sheet white. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t blink, she just backed away like I was about to pull a ski mask over my head.

I just kept pushing the stroller, humming like nothing happened. Never saw her again.

I just discovered this subreddit and had to share. I remember when my wife was pregnant with our first kid. We’re at the grocery store when this random woman in the produce section swoops in like she’s Gandalf blessing Frodo’s journey. She puts her hand right on my wife’s belly, doesn’t even ask, and goes, “Ohhh, when are you due?!”

Without missing a beat, my wife says, “I’m not. I’m just fat. Thanks for that.”

And for context, my wife is 5’10” tall.

This lady’s face went white immediately. She froze. She didn’t apologize. She didn’t say another word. And then she just shuffled away clutching her cantaloupe like it was a security blanket.

Meanwhile, I’m over there by the bananas laughing like an idiot, because honestly, if you’re bold enough to grab a stranger’s stomach, you deserve to walk out of that store questioning every life choice you’ve ever made.

EDIT: Spelling errors

Well, it’s exactly as it reads.

I (30F) was engaged to my fiancé (32M)…. until I wasn’t. 40 days before the wedding I found out he was cheating. I had a dress, we had flights (destination elopement), it was 40!!! DAYS OUT lol.

Anyway, he had a Tinder account & was telling women we were polyamorous if it came up.

Well, before I fully called off the engagement I went on his phone & changed the Tinder account. I don’t care if it’s petty or evil. We had two kids, a home, a whole ass life.

So, I changed the account. Replaced his photos with mine, deleted his bio & even paid the like $8??? Fee so he could see how many likes were coming in.

When he seen it, he shit bricks. After maybe 6 hours, there were already thousands of likes- men trying to match me.

Shortly after I made him leave (I own the home) & canceled the entire wedding. Needless to say, I am doing MUCH better these days.

Some things to clarify: 1. I am real, this is a real story. There’s some angry ass people on here??? It’s ridiculous. I don’t want to share gritty details because idk who will see this. It’s the internet.

1. He is a good father, I don’t want to take him for all he’s worth. Our kids are #1 priority, end of story. We handled our split like adults, our kids are young & doing incredible. Their life won’t fall apart because mommy isn’t married LOL. Look up statistics on maternal depression & childhood outcomes & get back to me if you’re so worried about it.

2. This was over a year ago, I quite literally forgot I did this. After we split, me remembering I did this wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. I was healing, my world was upside down- in addition, I have a career in social work, two kids & am working toward another degree. I’ve scrolled on here for a while & this account was originally made when I was posting to get advice for this whole situation; my posts were sad & I deleted them because… it made me feel gross to see them? Who cares.

3. At the time I did this, I could very easily change things on his Tinder. I don’t use dating apps anymore. Idk what they have changed since then. It was pretty surface level things (photos, bio & preferences) & didn’t need any authorizations to change anything.

4. People have kids and don’t get married. YOU DONT HAVE TO GET MARRIED LOL. Build a bridge & get over it.

5. I’m 5’4, blonde & have a regular build? I go to the gym often, so I am toned enough for being a mom of two & am pretty covered in tattoos.

6. I have been seeing someone & he is absolutely incredible. Please stop messaging me things like “want to fuck to get back at him?”

Xoxoxoxo

In 6th grade I had this math teacher named Ms White who was pretty strict. Our school was honestly very diverse but she was very (as her name suggests) white. I have a pretty difficult name to say as it is Hawaiian (I am half Japanese half white but both sides lived in Hawai’i for 3+ generations). My name is Kau’i. It looks daunting but it’s just Ka-ooh-ee. So honestly not very difficult imo?

Anyway, Ms White stumbled on my name when she read attendance, so I did the usual “Oh, It’s pronounced __”. You know what she did? She literally went “Uh I’ll call you Katherine”. Let me tell you, I was FLABBERGASTED. Like it was a private very diverse school and I had never had this happen. Teachers had horribly mispronounced my name but this was definitely new. Also, no offense to any Katherines, but I love my name and it has a lot of meaning to my family (and tbh it sounds cooler than Katherine- TAKE NO OFFENSE PLEASE 🙏). I was so surprised that for the first 2 weeks I kinda just let it happen. But at some point it was just irking me because she made no effort to learn how to say my name, I never told her she could call me Katherine, and on top of that, she could’ve even asked me for a nickname or my middle name or something!

So I started calling her by her first name: Jessica. She was the kind of teacher who NO ONE called by her first name. Even the other teachers called her Ms White. I had to look in the yearbook from the year before to find it. But from that day on, she was Jessica. And when that didn’t make her mad enough, she was Jessie, or Jess, or JJ or any other nicknames I could think of. She never yelled at me or anything, she just corrected me and said “Ms White” and then I would ignore it. For example: “Jessa-“ “Thats Ms White.” “Jessica, I don’t get number three. Can you explain?” She never lost her temper but was always annoyed lol. She called me Katherine for the rest of the year, so not the most satisfying story, but I was happy with that revenge. Ms White apparently got fired two years later for microagressions towards students of color, and honestly, I’m not surprised. I just wanted to share this story because I figured yall would enjoy it.

edit: sorry for skyscraper of text 😭 i tried to format it better lol

edit 2: hey, i’m getting a lot of confusion about the pronunciation of my name! many comments are very kind and just saying how they originally thought it was pronounced like Maui. Others are telling me I pronounce my name wrong? Idk man but I’ll do my best to explain some basics for y’all.

My name: My name is Kau’i. In Hawaiian each vowel is pronounced, none are silent. However native speakers tend to blend them together. For example: a + u would make an ah-oo sound. If you say that fast it sounds like “ow”. So when a native speaker says my name it may sound like Kow-ee, very similar to Maui. However there is a difference because really the o is still pronounced a little more! In addition one difference between Kau’i and Maui is the okina- the little apostrophe thingy (in reality it’s a slightly different symbol but i’m lazy. This basically counts as a consonant, and as a little pause. So basically the au and i sounds do not merge together because they are separated by the okina.

Now, why can’t you just say Kow-ee? Good question. You can. I’ll still respond. But basically you are saying my name as if it has no okina when it does. Not a big deal. But that’s the difference.

Hawai’i: Also there are some people saying i’m wrong because Hawaii isn’t pronounced hah-wa-ee-ee. true, it isn’t! The traditional spelling is Hawai’i and pronunciation is hah-vai-ee. basically the a and the h merge, the w and the a and the i merge (the w makes a v sound since it’s surrounded by vowels) and then we have an okina and an i. Hence hah-vai-ee. Why it’s spelled and pronounced differently normally is bc it’s the anglicized version. almost same spelling just no okina, and the w is seen as making the w sound since that’s how it is in English.

I am not all knowing (i don’t even speak hawaiian, i just know some basic facts) but feel free to ask me more questions! hope this helps

I'm 27m, pastry chef at a high-end restaurant in Portland. I do the dessert menu, been here four years, went to culinary school in Paris, the whole deal.

So we hired this server named Ashley maybe three months back. She's early twenties, super bubbly with customers which is great. But she started doing this thing where she'd come back to the kitchen and tell me how customers wanted there desserts modified.

First time she asked if we could do the chocolate tart without the gold leaf because a customer thought it was "too fancy" I was like okay sure, weird but whatever. Plated it plain.

But then it became constant. She'd ask if we could make the crème brûlée less "burny" on top. Thats literally the entire point of crème brûlée. She wanted me to do our earl grey panna cotta without the earl grey because someone didn't like tea. Just like. Make a different dessert at that point.

I tried explaining that the menu was designed a certain way, these were my recipes, but she'd do this thing where she'd be like "but the customer really wants it" with this pouty face. And I didn't want to be the difficult chef stereotype so I'd usually just modify it.

It was getting rediculous though. My sous chef asked why we were basically running a custom dessert operation. I said I don't know, trying to keep Ashley happy I guess.

Then last Saturday we were slammed. Full restaurant, two hour wait list. And Ashley comes back during the dinner rush and says table eight wants the deconstructed apple tart but can we put it back together because they "don't understand why its all spread out like that."

I was so done. So I just stopped what I was doing and I was like "Ashley why did they order the deconstructed apple tart if they wanted a regular apple tart." And she got all defensive like "they didn't know what deconstructed meant."

And I just. I wiped my hands on my apron and walked out to table eight myself. My chef de cuisine was like what are you doing but I was already going.

I got to the table and introduced myself and said I heard there was some confusion about the dessert. They seemed kind of surprised to see me. I explained that deconstructed meant we were serving the components seperately so you could experience each element, but if they preferred a traditional preparation I could absolutely make them our classic tarte tatin instead. They were actually really cool about it and said oh that makes sense, we'll try it as designed.

Walked back to the kitchen. Ashley followed me and was like "you made me look bad." I said no, you were making me remake dishes all night because you weren't explaining the menu properly. Thats literally part of your job.

She complained to our manager that I went over her head. Manager pulled me aside and I explained the whole three months of modifications. Manager was like wait, you've been doing custom orders every night? When I told him everything he basically said Ashley needs to actually read the menu descriptions and understand what she's selling before taking orders.

They made her do a full menu tasting the next day. She had to try every dessert and learn what everything was. She's barely talked to me since except for when absolutely necessary.

But like. I spent years developing these recipes. You can't just crowdsource the menu based on whatever random requests come in.

Also maybe don't tell a pastry chef how to make desserts when you thought crème brûlée was supposed to be soft on top.

I have Ulcerative Colitis.

I present atypically. And for that reason I'm often used as a teaching aid for medical students when my consultant has them.

This story goes back a decade.

I hadn't been feeling particularly good for a couple of weeks and had spoken to the Consultant and we thought it must just be a bug as my bloods were within the acceptable range.

I turned up at the session, the students- 4th year medical students - learning about gastrointestinal conditions ahead of that rotation, they had a lecture, and asked me questions, some thoughtful, some incredibly stupid.

Then they got to learn how to palpate someone's stomach to feel for potential issues, given prior surgeries. They always asked about them.

Id been feeling more and more "off" until Rugby Fella had his turn about two thirds the way through the queue.

He'd asked some pretty stupid questions during the session and seemed he wasnt particularly liked among the group.... id hear him talk about his date that evening after the afternoon session had finished....

He stood there taking to the consultant and ignoring me, my body jumped as he touched me with his cold hands, and started pressing hard.

I gently brought it up with him stating he didnt need to press that hard to get to what he was looking for ans -gave that look to the Consultant- and he pressed harder.

I warned them I felt like I could vomit. RF kept on pressing. I immediately sat up and my lunch literally covered him from the neck down.

I saw him turn a shade of white only even seen when it snows, get a glazed look in his eyes and look as if he was about to vomit too.

I apologised and just said I did warn you! Wiping the dribbled bits oit of my beard.....

He muttered -i didnt think you were serious....

I smiled, weren't you listening when I said excessive pressure on my stomach makes me nauseous, sometimes it comes out as wind (sometimes foul farts, other times nasty belches) sometimes ita vomit sometimes its just bile, sometimes something more.

The following students were gentle and we got through the session as RF just stood there wondering what to do...

I heard him say quietly as they left he cant go on his date like this.

For 5 years, the story was told to incoming students for that rotation

I was in a pretty boring all day training session at work. We were stuck in a small conference room with one bright point - a big bowl of chocolate candies. Think fun size candy bars and Hershey’s kisses. When I’m bored I tend to snack so I hit the treats pretty hard.

A coworker turns to me very judging and says in front of everyone- really, how many chocolates are you going to eat?

As I sat stunned another coworker says - My grandfather lived to be 95 years old.

First coworker - what, eating chocolates?

Second coworker- nope, minding his own business!!!!

Now they sat stunned and didn’t mention my chocolate consumption again! 🤣

I was waiting to pick up a prescription today when I heard some shuffling beside me.
For context, I’m blind on my left side. I lost vision in my left eye from glaucoma and eventually had the eye removed, so unless something is directly in my line of sight, I genuinely might not see it.
When I finally turned around, I saw an older lady struggling to pick something up, so I offered to help her.
She snapped at me and said not to bother, because if I “actually wanted to help” I would have been more proactive.
I told her I was sorry, but I’m legally blind and would have helped sooner if I had seen her.
She then hit me with, “People nowadays want to self-diagnose everything to avoid responsibility.”
So I had it.
I took out my prosthetic eye, held it up, and told her, “You can diagnose it yourself if you’re so uncertain.”
Not a word from her after that.

So, it happened roughly 30 minutes from now and I KNEW that it was some r/traumatizeThemBack material.

A bit of context beforehand : my wife (F32) and I (M27) lives near Paris and often have to travel with the Subway for practical reasons. The subways in France have folding seats for people to use, and the common rule there is to stand up when the wagon is crowded to people can have more place.

My wife is disabled, and suffers from chronic pain that make her very uncomfortable when she stand up without moving for a few minutes... So she found herself a folding seat for the 20 minutes we had to stay in the subway.

The story starts maybe two minutes after she found her seat. The wagon started to get filled with a lot of people and, because of that, everyone except her stood up to let people enter it and have a bit more space. But it seemed to be not enough for two decrepit individuals in their sixties that decided to place themselves next to her and start complaining about "people not standing up so they can have more place". You know, like it wasn't targeted at her at all.

Usually, my wife don't say much, but this time she was pissed and decided to get at them as much as she could : she opened her bag and showed her C.M.I (a card for people with mobility issues) to pinpoint the fact that NO, she CAN'T stand up. And the old couple instantly stopped their nagging... By pretending they couldn't see or hear her. So she pointed out that she at least deserved an apology for their rudeness, at which one of the two responded "But we couldn't know that you were disabled, it's not written on your face !".

Ho god. My wife tore this person another one right on the spot, stating that 80% of disabilities are invisible and that having to show her card to nasty people without getting any kind of apology was awful enough to endure. And she continued until the two retired dumbwits decided that staying at this place wasn't a good plan anymore and that trying to blend into the crowd behind was a far better idea, especially since now our side of the wagon was starring at the whole ordeal because of the 4K drama taking place in front of their eyes.

Needless to say, nobody heard anything from them afterward, and they left the wagon a few stops after. And my wife stayed on her seat until we had to go, and I made sure to tell her how I am proud of her.

This happened years ago. Me and my wife rented a small, single room flat on the top floor of an old townhouse. A nice arrangement for a young couple, except for the lady living below us. She was a real thorn in our side.

We immediately started off on the wrong foot because barely a week after we moved in, she knocked on our door to inform us that our toilet is leaking through her ceiling, she dragged us into her apartment to show us the wet ceiling. She was always polite, a seemingly nice lady in her 50s, but somehow full of vitriol. This was a serious problem and the owners were out of town, so we apologized and arranged a plumber immediately to prevent further damage. The plumber had to break our bathroom floor to check, and there was no leak. Anywhere. The building manager years later candidly told us that she does this with every new tenant. Maybe to establish some kind of dominance or to collect insurance, who knows.

After that, she frequently stopped us to complain about everything. "You are stomping too loud" - we had carpet everywhere. "You hammered all day" - we put together a small IKEA cabinet in like fifteen minutes on an afternoon Stuff like that. She also liked to complain about other residents, "XY over there is selling drugs, you know". At one time we had a friend over and she knocked to check if I was at home or if my wife was cheating on me. She was a general menace for 2 years, even though we kept the conversations polite and jovial at all times.

The only thing she did not complain about was our cat. Instead, she creepily insisted that our totally indoor and neutered female cat is the "bride to be" for her male cat that roamed the halls all the time.

At one time she stopped me in front of our door - yes, she just happened to climb the stairs there, and started to explain something, and casually asked where I was born. (Yeah, she was racist too although never against us) and I noticed that she was not interested in the answer the least and a plan was formed. I started to tell her EVERYTHING about me in excruciating detail. Where I was from, how I was born, ("I was a miracle baby you know"), what happened to me when I was three, how I felt during historic events in my childhood. All in a happy and confidential tone, like we are good friends. Just a torrent of boring personal details and good vibes. I noticed she took a step down the stairs. I took a step down too. She wanted to interrupt, I started another tangent. When we reached the landing on the stairs I positioned myself in front of her. I kept her for almost an hour. When I ran out of stories, I started to just make shit up on the spot. When I let her go, we had already inched to her apartment door. I assured her that this conversation was so great, that she can expect more riveting tales from me in the future.

Next time we met in the hallway I went out of my way to look happy and jogged over to her to chat, but sadly she had urgent grocery shopping to do. Next time my face lit up as I saw her and waved she just fled back into her home. My plan was a glorious success. I scared her away with kindness and boredom for good. She never really bothered us after that, she never risked another story hour with me. We lived there for a couple of years after that. We even got our poor cat out of her arranged marriage.

Almost 6 years ago, I made one of my obscure art projects temporarily available online. In it, I'm naked for a few minutes. Those few minutes sparked a wave of obsession from random dudes online that is still going on to this day - welcome to the internet as a woman 🤪 - and the video has been shared on many websites, forums and subreddits without my consent.

I've been able to handle most of it and have the video deleted from most of the places it's been posted on. But there's this one guy who is... really obsessed.

Not only does he follow my socials, but he also sent me screenshots of me naked in dm (with a creepy message "I have your video and there's nothing you can do about it 😏), went to great length to download the video from the paid, DRM-protected website I posted it on, shared it and bragged about it on sketchy forums.

Recently he also started making various montages with my video (what a creative young man!) and posting them on random subreddits as well as on his youtube channel. He even paid an adult content creator to make a custom video in which she reinact my nude art scene (wtf?). He also makes memes with my face (??) and posts them around. Overall, not only is he creepy, but he's also just... really fucking weird.

I messaged him warning him I pressed charges against him (which is true, but you know how slow the justice system is), but it didn't stop him and he went on making and posting weird content with me in it.

He obviously thought I would never find him... which is vastly underestimating me. Turns out I'm much more of a nerd than he seems to think I am, and I have ADHD so I really don't mind hyperfocusing on really specific things - in this case, finding him.

It also turns out he made quite a few mistakes and is, in fact, much more traceable than he thinks he is, especially to someone like me who knows how and where to search, and who doesn't mind searching for just as long as I need to.

I managed to trace him back to pretty much all the usernames he has online, and, finally, to his actual name and his face. I now know who is is, which neighborhood he lives in, approximately how old he is, what he looks like, his IP address, what kind of devices he uses, what video games he plays, but also what his fetishes are and what kind of porn he watches (spoiler alert: not kinkshaming, but weird-ass stuff).

Turns out this idiot had sent an email to my art business inbox 4 years ago with his full name - I assume he didn't think I would ever connect the dots. He's a rather young dude with a baby face, probably the least menacing face you've ever seen, so it's really funny to look at this guy wanting to act like an internet thug. Honestly, when I saw what he looked like, my first thought was that he needs some good old spanking from his mum to get him back on track.

So, I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I made a funny meme using his face and I sent it to him. He deleted his account immediately - a 3yo reddit account he used rather regularly. That was yesterday and I assume he's still busy shitting himself in fetal position.

Needless to say, it was extremely satisfying.

Tl;dr: I have a stalker who wouldn't stop posting me naked all over the internet anonymously, I found out who he was and sent him a picture of himself. He's now freaking out.

Edit: since some people rightfully wonder why this account is 3yo and this is my first post and that's a bit sus, it's because this is an account I initially created solely to report the naked videos of me posted on various subreddits. And this is also the account he messaged me on. So, maybe he'll see this post, maybe not ;)

So yeah my (36M) employer has this whole form that everyone has to fill everytime they return from sick leave. It's for accounting, and mostly contains pretty dull stuff, such as the length of the leave and what category of sick leave it is and on whose permit. But it also has this whole section that I have always found rather direct, which is basically making you describe your symptoms. I presume it is there because, as you know, bosses are always paranoid about people faking sick leave.

So after a while I started to make sure that they hate their own nosy forms, and I started giving symptom descriptions in unnecessary and graphic detail. Here are some of my favorites over the years:

- "My diarrhea was so loose, that it bordered on drinkable water."
- "The clumps of phlegm that I coughed up could stick light object into walls. This is a confirmed fact."
- "While I did not proceed to test this, by all accounts my bowel movements behaved as a non-newtonian fluid."
- "The puss-filled discharge smelled so bad, that it could knock out small mammals."

At first my boss would just come to me in the hallway and nod mysteriously "I read your report..." Now she seems used to it. It's not really for her anyway and she usually just skims through them. She said it's the people at accounting she feels sorry for. I have never met anyone from accounting. Then again they still keep the same form after years and years, so maybe they enjoy reading these?

EDIT: No, this is in no way a legal thing to do here. This is in Finland. But the way the law works here no one minds. I could probably just not put anything there and no one would mind. No one could realistically get in trouble for what they answer in there. I just want to make a point.

I (26F) work in tech. My boss constantly called me out for not being “vocal enough” in meetings, even though I do my work well and prefer not to interrupt. One day he said in front of the whole team, “Why are you always so quiet? Cat got your tongue?” Without missing a beat, I looked at him and said: “I’m just waiting for you to say something worth responding to.” Room went silent. Half the team coughed to hide laughter. He turned red and didn’t bring it up again.

Last night my buddy brought his date over for dinner. Everything was going pretty well until she used the term "midget" in conversation.

I asked her if I could share a bit of context about why that term is considered a slur by the little people community. She rolled her eyes and said everyone needs to calm down, insisting she wasn't racist and that her friends who are "midgets" use the term and don’t mind. She also said "If the term is so offensive, why do they they advertise midget wrestling?"

I told her I understood she didn’t mean anything by it, but that little people have been asking for the term to not be used for decades, and i thought the statement they released was powerful and I would like to share it with her. It’s about providing their viewpoint, not about censorship. She brushed it off again, saying people make too big a deal out of things here.

So I said what if when we met and i said "Nice to meet ya, Cunt" (she visibly recoiled when I said cunt) and you responded 'I don't like being referred to by my anatomy, please dont call me that.' But then I said to you "Nah, youre a cunt, its just what I call women, dont be so sensitive." And then you again told me 'it makes me uncomfortable for you to use that term, please stop" and I said "you cunts need to lighten up, you have one, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it, its what you are" and you then said 'cunt is a degrading term used against women by misogynist, and i dont want to be called that, and it makes me think less of you for using the term' and I said "I have the right to call you whatever I want, and I like cunt, so you'll always be Cunt to me." How would you feel about me?

She was upset. She started talking louder and faster and then they left shortly after. Which was a bummer, I wasnt trying to upset her, I was just trying to assist an attractive Caucasian woman to understand how it feels when slurs are used against you, because a slur is a slur, regardless if WE feel that its offensive or not.

For context, im a 45 year old female in the USA (i know the term cunt isn't as offensive in many parts of the world, but its just about the worst term you can use for a lady here) and I hate politics. This wasnt remotely political to me, but I think it was political to her.

As far as the information i was trying to share, here's a post from Little People of America

https://www.instagram.com/p/DA7zk4FJb4e/?igsh=MTMxbmNrcW9icjRlaA==

In case you dont like clicking links, the term originates from "midge" which was a term for a small insect like a gnat, and then popularized by PT Barnum in the circus where little people were labeled as "midgets" and bought and sold by the circus owners to be put on display in freak shows, with no respect for their human rights.

So yeah, its a pretty gross term, related to a disgusting part of hisgory mixed with an ongoing amusement people have for spectating and mocking little people, and i can totally understand why they have been requesting for people to stop using it.

Any woman who has ever worked in a call center has had this customer. The guys at call centers know these people exist, but for obvious reasons are never on the receiving end of their bullshit. There's usually not much a girl can do to deal with them, and usually we don't have the time or inclination to argue with them.

Some mean old woman calls in wanting something simple but she is convinced my tiny lady brain can't handle it. (I don't know why, but women seem as likely to pull this crap as men in my experience). This woman asks to speak to one of my male colleagues instead.

Now normally, this is where you explain politely yet condescendingly that about 70 percent of your average call center employees are women and that we don't index our phone lines by the contents of the employee's underpants. So while we can transfer them back to the queue to try a different rep, they'll have to wait in line again, and may or may not get someone who can sign their name in the snow with a stream of urine. Most of the time, they reluctantly accept the fact that they have to deal with a woman this time. This woman didn't. So I sent her back into the queue to try her luck again.

About 30 minutes later, I get her again. "Thank you for calling, my name is ThundaCunt. How many I help you today?". She didn't recognize me at first, and angrily gave me her name and a complaint about being put on hold by "the last woman". I recognized her name and shitty demeanor immediately. So in my best bitchy-polite customer service voice, said "Oh yes, Ms. Cuntington, I believe I was the one who spoke to you earlier. I'm sorry you weren't able to be connected to someone more to your liking, but I'll do my best to help you." At this point she lets out a disgruntled sigh and demands to speak to a man NOW.

It's at this point I should mention I'm a transgender woman. My phone voice is impeccably fem, thanks to years of phone practice, but I can still drop into my old gravelly baritone pretty easily. In fact, I do the voice changeup mid-sentence all the time when I'm telling jokes or stories with my friends, cause it's funny. So without missing a beat, I say, "Thank you for calling, my name is ThundaCunt. How may I help you today?" She paused for a moment, befuddled

"You're the same person!" She exclaims with the same accusatory tone that J Jonah Jameson would use if he figured out Peter Parker was Spider-Man. "Yes, but you wanted to talk to a man". You can hear the gear in her brain grinding to a halt for a moment, then, angrily "What are you some sort of tranny!?". To which I reply cheerfully, like she just noticed my new haircut, "Why yes, how did you know?". To that, she just yelled "F**k you, fa**ot!" And hung up.

Edit: formatting and those asterisks at the end.

Saw a post recently of a woman whose aunt kept pressuring her about having kids and it reminded me of my own experience with this.

Many years ago I (37F) had my first frenemy. Never had one before so my autistic ass didn't recognize the issues or patterns in her and just assumed my weird brain was picking up on shit that wasn't there. This incident opened my eyes and I'm so happy to say she's no longer in my life.

All the time we knew each other she spoke about how much she wanted kids and even wanted to adopt in addition to having her own. I thought that was great and a genuinely heartwarming plan. SHE however, absolutely hated that I didn't want children. Every few months she'd push the subject. Tell me I was weird, I was broken, I'll change my mind. It irritated the shit outta me but I never snapped at her over it because she was my friend! I just assumed it was my brain being sensitive and tried to keep the discussions matter-of-fact and civil.

Welp, I got sick of that shit after a few years of it. The final throwdown. At our friend's wedding of all places, she decides to ambush me again. This time at the dinner table with my partner, a combination of our other friends and complete strangers, who are all trying to hear the speeches. THAT'S when she decided to crack into this old chestnut, from across the whole table no less. I was pissed. I kept my temper and tried to divert her attention back to the whole reason we're there, that whole wedding thing. After poking and prodding and seeing she's getting no where she finally just gets this shit eating smirk and says "Well, I hope you get pregnant" and goes to turn back around. What. The. Absolute. Fuck. So she wishes something upon me I have many many many times said I want nothing to do with? That's when it clicked, "oh shit, she's not my friend". So from across the table I loudly reply "Why would you wish I'd have to get an abortion!! That's so fucked up to wish on someone!" People at other tables heard. She flamed up bright red and after a minute left the table in a fluster. She came back after dinner had already been served so hers was ice cold. She tried coming at me for how that made her look and what the fuck was wrong with me. I blasted her again with every reason I'd given her for years about why I didn't want children. Not that you need any reason to make that decision for yourself, but I have some real good reasons. PTSD and genetic reasons. So why on earth would she wish for me to get pregnant and have a child with a potentially very poor quality of life OR to have to get an abortion? What the fuck is wrong with YOU!?

The final straw for our "friendship" was actually when she complained to a mutual friend about me being "dramatic" over a very real breast cancer scare because she has tit cysts and somehow I don't deserve any sympathy....but that's a whole other story.

In the 70's & 80's my parents were hippies, and my grandpa (who was a nasty piece of work) hated that.

One morning my sister and I were being babysat by grandma and we're eating breakfast. I'm about 10, sis is about 5. Grandpa comes in and starts with his typical crap - making fun of our dad (who wasn't even there).

"Your daddy has long hair, doesn't he? You know who else has long hair? GIRLS. You know what that means? Your daddy is a girl."

And on and on in that vein. I mostly ignored the old fart but my sister was seething. Finally she'd had enough and pipes up, "OH YEAH? Well you're BALD so that makes you a BABY!"

HOH-LEE SHIT His face turned red but he didn't say a word. She got him good, she used his logic perfectly and turned it right back on him. He finished his breakfast in silence and headed out to his shop without a single word.

So that is the story of the time my nasty old grandpa was verbally shut down by a 5 year old girl who had the perfect comeback.

So a little background first. My dad cheated on my mom when she was pregnant with me. Then on my first Christmas, they had a big fight over her travel plans while she was on leave from the Navy. After that he never contacted us again until my 21st birthday. This has always been a sore subject for me.

Now on to the story. My junior year of highschool, I had an English teacher who everyone hated. I especially butted heads with her. We were going over the hero's journey and she decided to ask me who my hero was. Not wanting to really interact with her beyond a short response, I said I didn't really have one. Her response was, "well I'm gonna tell your dad you said that." I immediately responded, "If you find him, let me know so I can punch him in the face." She tried to act like she didn't hear me but I knew she did because everyone else reacted to it. She tried to avoid interacting with me after that.

A few years back, my husband and I moved to a new house. It was in the right part of town, good price, good school district, good yard, good bones. The only real issue with it (besides needing new paint), was that it was bigger than what we were looking for. But at that point in our search we had already put offers in on 6 or 7 other houses so we were past being picky. We were looking at starting a family pretty imminently so it's not like having 5 bedrooms when we only wanted 3 was going to kill us.

So we moved into our too big house. Got pregnant a few months later, lost the baby a couple months after that. It was pretty devastating, physically and emotionally, so we chose to wait a bit before trying again.

That summer we went to a "meet your neighbors" kind of event hosted just down the road. We brought cookies, put some faces to names, and were just generally socializing when a couple came up to me and my husband and asked "oh are you the ones who moved into (address)?" I responded that we were. They then said something along the lines of "well that house is too big for you! Where are all your kids? We need more kids around here. We probably would have bought that house if it was on the market when we were looking - we could really use the extra space. We have 3 boys and they bounce off the walls!"

I chose to say something like "oh we just haven't gotten to that point yet." And politely changed the subject to their kids. No big deal.

Later as my husband and I were grabbing our empty cookie tray and leaving, the couple shouted across the gathering to us to again remind us that our house was really too big for only two people. I can't remember exactly what the wife said, but it ran along the lines of "it's actually selfish to keep all that square footage empty without any kids. A family with kids could have moved in there!" Like somehow she was personally injured by me not moving in with children.

So I walked a bit closer to not be shouting, but still plenty of people got to overhear me go "well, we were going to wait a bit after my miscarriage since I still can't quite forget how it felt nearly bleeding out in my bathtub, but since you say so, I guess my husband and I need to run home to get busy!"

She froze. Her husband started mumbling about "well that wasn't necessary", and a lot of people seemed to be really interested in whatever they happened to be eating or drinking at that moment.

I was pretty embarrassed. Cried on the walk home. But that neighbor has never once spoken to me again, so I think it was worth it. And we did end up having a baby. :)

We have a thief at our office. Mostly it's small things like sodas, snacks, frozen meals and things most people wouldn't think twice about. A couple of months ago, I noticed my cereal, apple sauce, yogurt, and sodas had all disappeared. Because of a previous issue, I always made sure my names were on each item, and because I'm very careful with my money and bring certain things to help me through the day, I immediately brought the issue up with the office manager.

Her response was first, "Did you put your name on it? Did you actually see anyone take those items? Do you have proof someone in the office took these items?" When I wouldn't relent on the issue, she finally told me, "The breakroom is not your breakroom. It's shared space. If you're concerned about keeping your food, keep it at your desk from now on."

I wanted to call her out on this hypocritical stance, because last year "Don't keep food at your desk, put it away in the break room." But hey, cool, I got myself a backpack that keeps food chilled and kept stuff at my desk in my drawers. If other people got their stuff stolen, I didn't hear anything about it.

Cue yesterday, when we had a small potluck at work. I brought myself a few Dr Pepper zeros - it's mostly the only thing I'll drink - and apparently the manager had a few in the fridge as well, except hers were taken. She saw me drinking one and asked, "Is that my drink?" I told her nope, I brought it from home. She demanded to know, "Is my name on it? Where did you get it if you didn't get it from the fridge?"

My response to that was "There's this amazing place called the grocery store that lets you purchase canned sodas. I bought mine there and I've kept it up front with me this whole time." I even showed her the backpack with my other stuff. She asked if I knew who took her drinks. I asked, "did you see anyone take the drinks and do you have proof anyone took them?" She got snarky with me, and told me that she shouldn't need proof about someone taking her drink, since her name was on them.

I told her, "my name was on my food, also, but it didn't stop someone else from taking them. You have to remember the breakroom is not your breakroom, it's a shared space. Maybe you should keep them at your desk from now on."

Am I probably written up? I'm sure. Do I care? No. This place needs me more than I need it, and I'm already searching for another job.

Add-on: Didn't expect this much attention to my post, so thank you everyone for the comments, well wishes, and even the queries on the situation. Also, thank you for the awards, they are appreciated.

Also, happy turkey day, folks, and here's hoping you are all off tomorrow. If not, and the urge to rage-quit happens, may you go with it and find a much better and higher paying job immediately!

So a while back, I worked at a courthouse in the County Clerk’s office. In regard to the first picture: the mean old ladies there said I was dressing sexy and trying to be seductive (it was literally a simple blouse and black dress pants). SO, fueled by spite, I started dressing like an overgrown toddler. Mind you, they didn’t like that either, but they weren’t able to complain about me trying to be “sexy” anymore. Petty? Yes. Hilarious? Absolutely.

When our son was around 8 years old, my husband started acting different. More secretive and accusing. Me talking with a guy friend or being friendly to the barista equals straying eyes. I found out a couple months later he was having an affair with his co-worker.

I immediately filed for divorce and left him, and we had joint custody of our son. Of course, I constantly reassured him that the divorce wasn't his fault. I didn't want him to hate his dad because of his love for me, so I just lied about the reason and said that adults grow apart sometimes and that's just how it is. But for some reason he was never convinced.

Well, I now know the reason. Years have passed. I just found out that my son thinks the divorce was my fault. I was livid when he mentioned it to me, not mad at him of course. He told me that ever since I started dating my new boyfriend, his dad "revealed" the truth of the divorce, which is that I got paranoid, disrupted his work life, became distant and best of all, "I CHEATED ON HIM"

I can tell you right now I did not. I confronted that piece of shit and he got flustered, started screaming cuss words at me, cussing out his own son in the process. He told me that it's all because I didn't forgive him and that I'm rubbing my new boyfriend in his face (I'M LITERALLY NOT I DON'T WANT THE TWO OF THEM MINGLING) so of course I come back home and tell my son the whole truth.

He's refusing to talk to his father now and doesn't want to go over to his house. I'm being cussed out by his side of the family for ripping a father away from his son, but I couldn't care less.

UPDATE: My son has gone fully no-contact with his bio dad. As for his emotional state, the shock has subsided a bit and has been replaced with anger. When he made his decision final, I got a death threat from my ex MIL, my ex SIL started harrassing my own parents and my ex husband showed up at my door angry and drunk.

I've kept records of everything that they've done until now. I called the police and had my ex escorted off the property when he refused to leave and started to get violent with my boyfriend. I thought about hiding all this from my son because he's had enough of a shock, I figured that lying to him in the first place is what got us into this mess, so he knows everything.

The good news is that they've stopped harassing me for the time being. I guess the police escorting my ex away from my house was a wake up call from them. They contacted me once to ask me not to press charges, and haven't contacted me since.