>walking home from a party late one evening >several guys were following me, as my drunk ass managed to piss them off by existing >try to walk faster, to no avail, as I’m drunk as shit >catch me in some random student neighbourhood >oh shit, my ass is about to be beaten >still in talking phase >lights flick on in a house >three guys in full musketeer garb walk out >leader is some blond guy with a beard, eyepatch, and some weird-ass accent >“What sort of ruffians would be accosting someone outside our residence? Stand and deliver!” >guys start yelling at them to fuck off, that I deserved to get my ass beaten >“Very well, then. Draw steel, you blackguard!” >all three of them draw rapiers on their belts >guys run >“I know not why those foul men sought your harm, but come and tell us the tale, stranger!” >spend remainder of evening drinking mulled wine with lunatics >bunch of Swedish re-enactors live there >blond guy is actually missing an eye; lost it in an machine shop accident >stagger home completely drunk with a hat
I had no idea people like that existed. Or had the money to rent a house.
in addition to two comments reading “FUCKING EPIC” and “THIS A THOUSAND TIMES THIS” op elaborated further in another post:
Holy shit, is this still being posted?
I figure I owe /tg/ a bit of an update on these guys.
Their leader, O he of one eye and little common sense, nearly had his visa revoked for these kinds of shenanigans. One too many arrests meant that his right to stay in the country was contested, and he had to go to court to defend himself and prevent his visa from being revoked.
I was his ride to court, and had to testify to the board that he shouldn’t be deported for lack of common sense or social normality.
His defense? A written speech, about three pages long, about the rights of man, the education he has received here, and the opportunities for a one-eyed machinist. The spirit of his crimes were all in defense of people who would otherwise suffer. For other witnesses, he had some of the random people he’d helped out, including one memorable point where a woman, nearly on the verge of tears, pointed out how he’d taken on a guy threatening to rape her and carrying a knife by whipping out a fencing saber, disarming him, and mocking him in his thick Swedish accent so that the girl could call the cops. Something like a dozen people all showed up, explaining how this dude, despite his eccentricities, made the country better.
He was not deported, and lives here to this very day, stalking the streets in musketeer garb, rescuing drunks, and dispensing his own brand of justice.
Everything I write ends up turning into an exercise in imagining a world wherein every single person puts other people first because I see it happen often enough to know it’s within the realm of possibility
I am a flight attendant. (I feel the need to specify this because the last time one of my work-related posts left my little neighborhood on here, many people forgot how context clues work.) Last week, a flight I was working had one of the strangest delays I’ve ever seen. The flight from Philly to Detroit generally takes about 1.5 to 2 hours. We were roughly 30 minutes from Detroit when the plane ran out of gas and we had to make a pit stop in the middle of Ohio. (Other things happened that led to us running out of gas but they aren’t important.)
The plane was full. Almost 100 people, everyone tired from a long day of traveling, which is already a stressful experience. And now we’re all stuck in the middle of Ohio, a place no one ever wants to be, with no clue as to when we might finally reach our destination. I had already done the drink service and essentially worked a 1.5 hour flight, which is tiring, and the passengers are all tired as well. Everyone’s hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, squished together in a huge metal tube, baking in the sun. All of the ingredients were there to make this a shitty day. We ended up sitting on the ground for another hour and a half before we could fly the last 30 minutes. A 2 hour flight turned into 4. And it was one of the best flights I’ve ever worked.
Sitting the closest to my jumpseat in the back row of the plane were: a customer service rep for my airline on her way to a funeral; an 11 year old unaccompanied minor (kid flying alone); a 20 year old auditioning for a radio show; and a young new dad traveling for the first time with his infant daughter. Even before we’d left Philly, there was a little sense of comraderie, the kind you get whenever you’re sharing an experience as a group. But the moment it became apparent that our “pit stop” was going to take much longer than anticipated, we suddenly became a group of survivors in some apocalypse movie–but instead of getting suspicious of each other, we played games and passed out pretzels.
When I tell yall we literally had some of the most fun I’ve ever had on a flight…the 11 year old girl was a chatterbox and funny as hell. At one point I gave her the phone and she started telling jokes over the intercom. The customer service rep took care of her while I helped the other passengers. We found out about the 20 year old’s audition, and I gave him the phone next so he could practice his intros. We all took turn holding the baby (8 months and so well behaved!) and of course every mom gave the dad some advice. My other flight attendant and I quizzed everyone on the safety demo, with anyone who remembered the answers winning extra snacks. There were two people celebrating birthdays, so we all sang and clapped. 100 people (loudly, and very badly) singing happy birthday for two strangers. A woman in first class had an emotional support dog, and we all took turns holding him too.
I’d already done a beverage service on our way to Detroit, but the pilots said the route given to us would add another hour to our flight, so I decided to do a second one. Except, only three rows in, the captain made an announcement: he’d worked his magic and gotten us some short cuts. We would now be landing in Detroit in 15 minutes. I now had to do a full beverage service in about 10 minutes (this is impossible). I don’t know what my face looked like, but the passengers must have been able to tell. They all leapt into action. Two of them went down the aisle collecting drink orders, and then carried drinks to the others as I poured like I was in the fast and furious series, if they were about pouring soda instead of stealing cars. We got everyone served within 7 minutes. When we landed, everyone cheered. We knew each other’s names. Many people had exchanged numbers. I know a handful had plans to carpool.
At the end of that trip, I was talking to my roommate (also a flight attendant) and mentioned the 1.5 hour onboard delay. He said “God, that must have sucked.” He was shocked when I said it really, really didn’t.
“that’s what’s so frustrating about how much the world sucks you get moments of grace you get glimpses into how good we all are when we try it carries you through the dark times but it doesn’t answer the fucking question of why the fuck are we having so many dark times”
Im not American so please forgive me if this comes across as rude but when Americans start a sentence with “during the 2016 killer clown craze-” I can’t help myself. Talked about like it was a force of nature. Said with a nonchalant air like its an inevitable part of growing up. The killer clown craze.
england is literally throwing a celebration for their killer clown rn what are y'all talking about
England also did actually have the killer clown craze too! I don’t know if any of them actually killed but I know people were arrested for dressing up as clowns and jumping out w weapons or some shit like that.
No actual deaths by clown, and the craze died away after a few weeks, but we did have a lot of idiots lurking around with make-up and knives for a while, trying to look creepy, scarring children for life and annoying all the actual clowns I know.
One showed up in the alley next to my house, so, given that our neighbourhood is about eighty percent elderly people, I took to doing nightly clown patrols for a while (literally just doing a circuit of the neighbour, with intent to explain why giving people actual heart attacks isn’t funny).
It was only later that I realised I had been doing so in my cute bat hoody, with the wings and pointed ears, and that dressing up as a bat to hunt for evil clowns was perhaps not the sanest use of my time.
