My friend in HS's father got hit by a garbage truck and was totally fucked up in the same exact way a stroke victim would be (after he recovered from inititial injuries). I'm just imagining him saying, "YUUUU NOOOO FUKKKK MMMMY DOTTERRRRRRR!" Man, that is just terrible!

Also, this sounds like a reoccuring issue for this man's dotterrrrrr you tried to sleep with. Was it worth it in the end after getting caught by your moms?

Bambouche, I think it's funny that girl's dad crawling and bawling up the hallway seems to bother you less than being walked in on by your mom.

When I was like 19, I was hanging out at Smart Bar and this older woman (maybe in her mid-30s) approached me and struck up a conversation. She was not unattractive, kinda cute but she talked and acted with this particular sort of anxious desperation that I have since come to identify with habitual cocaine use.

Anyway, after we talked for awhile she whispered to me that she wouldn't mind getting a little high right now. I had some marijuana on me, so I offered to smoke her up. As we left, she went along to everyone she knew the bar, tapping them on she shoulder and announcing, "We're leaving!" We stepped out into that alley where the Cabaret Metro's stage door opens out, between Metro and the Gingerman Tavern. We lit up a joint, and after smoking for a bit she told me she was "very attracted" to me and she offered to take me back to her place. Being a horny teenager at the time, I hastily agreed. We jumped into a taxi and she gave the driver her address, which was nearby.

Suddenly, she started asking the taxi driver all these questions about where was the nearest place to "cop." I was a bit confused by this, so I pointed out that I was already holding some real kind bud here, why did she want to go buying off the street? She sort of touched my cheek, called me "honey" and said she wanted to score some blow. I suddenly felt very young and innocent.

The cabbie didn't have a ready connection for coke, so we went straight to her apartment. She brought me inside and offered me a drink. While we were in the kitchen drinking and chatting, I heard the front door open. She said, "Oh, that must be my son." I looked at the clock. It was like 2:30 AM.

Her son walked in, and he was like 2 years younger than I. He stopped quickly upon seeing me, and adopted a very defensive stance. He was dressed sort of like a gangbanger. His mom asked what he'd been doing that evening, and he said he was just out with his friends. He said he was going to shower and go to bed.

After he left the room, the woman grabbed me by the hand and dragged me into her bedroom. All I can say is, after the weird events that had just taken place, the experience was excessively creepy and uncomfortable. This woman asked me several times to repeat how old I was, and every time I told her, she would say "...only 19!" and moan in this really disturbing way. I suddenly got the feeling that I understood how women feel when strange men leer and shout at them on the street. Another thing I noticed while we were having sex was that her son was walking around the apartment, making a lot of noise slamming things around. Finally he turned on some hip-hop music.

After we were finished, she said to me, "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. It's OK with me if you want to leave." I suddenly felt really sleazy, so I hurriedly got up, pulled my pants on, and grabbed my belongings off her bedroom floor. The apartment was dark when I left through the back door, down the stairs and along the gangway. The security gate clanged shut behind me as I made my way towards the street.

I hailed a taxi and as I was about to get in, I reflexively felt my back pocket... SHIT! My wallet was gone. I slammed the taxicab door and ran back to the building.

Standing in the building's lobby, I had no idea which doorbell to ring, so I couldn't get buzzed in the front door. My only other option was the back door, the one I'd exited from. I had to walk around and climb back over the damn security gate. When I got to the back door I knocked, but there was no answer. Was this even the right door? I wasn't sure. Suddenly I heard her son's rap music, so I knocked again. Again no answer. The kid's music was too loud for him to hear, and his mother wasn't getting up.

I knew what I had to do. I went back down the stairs, collected a few pebbles off the ground and tossed them at the kid's window. After a few seconds I did it again. His window opened and he said "What do you want?!?" I called up, "I left something here." He shut the window and I went up the stairs.

He met me at the back door. I apologized and said I'd left my keys and stuff in his mom's room. I suddenly felt like that was the weirdest conversation I'd ever had. I felt bad for the kid, but I also sensed his deep resentment of me. It was almost like saying, "Yeah sorry man, your mom's a slut. Tough break."

I entered her room and shook her a little, trying to wake her, but she just groaned and rolled away from me. I used my cigarette lighter to find my wallet on the floor, checked twice to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything else. Then I left the room, said a quick "thanks" and "good bye" to her son, and left without looking back.

I think the lesson is that cute, coked up 30 year old women who are looking to take home a 19 year old are probably going to be the type of person you (now presumably older) expect them to be.

You're not going to get to her pad, fire up the espresso machine, hop in the hot tub and have the servant make you sammiches before you have an all night love fest.

Could have been any one of us at 19 though.
Glad you got your wallet back! I was thinking "oh man, she went through all of that just to nick the guy's wallet? No way!"

-A

These are some good stories. Now to figure out which ones are true. Keep 'em coming.

Nah, I was just really uncomfortable and in a huge hurry to get outta there.

Brett Eugene Ralph wrote:Weirdest Encounter? That's easy: kerble's mom.

Definitely kerble's mom.

Yeah, but which time, all of them? You've gotta have at least 10 diamonds in there, amongst the hundreds of "encounters"!

I used to live in Appleton about 100 miles due north of Milwaukee, and I am back up in that area once a week for work, when I was younger (at least 7-8 years ago) I used to hang out a Coffee house, at this Coffee house I met a man named Orin.

Orin is about 50 years old but has not taken good care of himself, about 6-5 he always looks dingy, and dresses like an 8 year old (un-matched clothes ect) he always smells of smoke, as he smokes 3 packs a day and sounds like it. Orin is crazy, not crazy like did to many drugs or just does stupid shit all the time, Orin has a mental illness. over the corse of a few years I became friends with Orin, he would come up to me and call me Cliff or Craig (my name is Chris, but Orin always called me a name that wasn't my real name but started with the letter C) and say something like.

"Magication... Musician... those words are really simalar, never thought about that before"

And then BOLT out the door as fast as he could. Also Orin had no volume control at all. He always spoke as loud as he could, but he had a knack for telling really funny stories, and there was always a part of the story that was true. Hell I even helped him move a ton of his stuff to a new appartment once, which took about 4 days... Anyway, about 2 months ago I was sitting in a cafe in downtown Appleton with one of my clients a mid-twentys very professional, yet creative woman going over an apparel program, and who should I see but Orin, and he did not look well, I kind of started to try to hide, but I was in the front window of the place and there was no way he did not see me, and as soon as he saw me he started doing jumping jacks, part of me wanted to just tell him to get lost, but I knew I couldn't, and if I did it might hurt him (as he could get really depressed) and my customer was visibilly shaken, Orin then bolts in the door and screams as loud as he can at me

"HEY CLIFF, I HAVE FACE CANCER FROM MAKING OUT WITH TOO MANY JEWS!"

and then gives my client a big hug, and BOLTS out the door. I then
proceed to tell my customer and everyone in the resturant which is about 1/2 full who Orin is, while doing this I realise this was Orins way of telling me he has cancer, which about brought me to tears.

I have been trying to get ahold of him since, but I can not reach him for some reason, I can only dream of what was going through my customers mind.

that was moving and sad. thanks.

Jose Luis Perales wrote:that was moving and sad. thanks.

well I am not sure that I am 100% on the, cancer, he might just have a head cold, or something wrong with his mouth...