My friend told me a story he hadn’t told anyone for years. When he used to tell it years ago people would laugh and say, ‘Who’d believe that? How can that be true? That’s daft.’ So he didn’t tell it again for ages. But for some reason, last night, he knew it would be just the kind of story I would love.
When he was a kid, he said, they didn’t use the word autism, they just said ‘shy’, or ‘isn’t very good at being around strangers or lots of people.’ But that’s what he was, and is, and he doesn’t mind telling anyone. It’s just a matter of fact with him, and sometimes it makes him sound a little and act different, but that’s okay.
Anyway, when he was a kid it was the middle of the 1980s and they were still saying ‘shy’ or ‘withdrawn’ rather than ‘autistic’. He went to London with his mother to see a special screening of a new film he really loved. He must have won a competition or something, I think. Some of the details he can’t quite remember, but he thinks it must have been London they went to, and the film…! Well, the film is one of my all-time favourites, too. It’s a dark, mysterious fantasy movie. Every single frame is crammed with puppets and goblins. There are silly songs and a goblin king who wears clingy silver tights and who kidnaps a baby and this is what kickstarts the whole adventure.
It was ‘Labyrinth’, of course, and the star was David Bowie, and he was there to meet the children who had come to see this special screening.
‘I met David Bowie once,’ was the thing that my friend said, that caught my attention.
‘You did? When was this?’ I was amazed, and surprised, too, at the casual way he brought this revelation out. Almost anyone else I know would have told the tale a million times already.
He seemed surprised I would want to know, and he told me the whole thing, all out of order, and I eked the details out of him.
He told the story as if it was he’d been on an adventure back then, and he wasn’t quite allowed to tell the story. Like there was a pact, or a magic spell surrounding it. As if something profound and peculiar would occur if he broke the confidence.
It was thirty years ago and all us kids who’d loved Labyrinth then, and who still love it now, are all middle-aged. Saddest of all, the Goblin King is dead. Does the magic still exist?
I asked him what happened on his adventure.
‘I was withdrawn, more withdrawn than the other kids. We all got a signed poster. Because I was so shy, they put me in a separate room, to one side, and so I got to meet him alone. He’d heard I was shy and it was his idea. He spent thirty minutes with me.
‘He gave me this mask. This one. Look.
‘He said: ‘This is an invisible mask, you see?
‘He took it off his own face and looked around like he was scared and uncomfortable all of a sudden. He passed me his invisible mask. ‘Put it on,’ he told me. ‘It’s magic.’
‘And so I did.
‘Then he told me, ‘I always feel afraid, just the same as you. But I wear this mask every single day. And it doesn’t take the fear away, but it makes it feel a bit better. I feel brave enough then to face the whole world and all the people. And now you will, too.
‘I sat there in his magic mask, looking through the eyes at David Bowie and it was true, I did feel better.
‘Then I watched as he made another magic mask. He spun it out of thin air, out of nothing at all. He finished it and smiled and then he put it on. And he looked so relieved and pleased. He smiled at me.
‘’Now we’ve both got invisible masks. We can both see through them perfectly well and no one would know we’re even wearing them,’ he said.
‘So, I felt incredibly comfortable. It was the first time I felt safe in my whole life.
‘It was magic. He was a wizard. He was a goblin king, grinning at me.
‘I still keep the mask, of course. This is it, now. Look.’
I kept asking my friend questions, amazed by his story. I loved it and wanted all the details. How many other kids? Did they have puppets from the film there, as well? What was David Bowie wearing? I imagined him in his lilac suit from Live Aid. Or maybe he was dressed as the Goblin King in lacy ruffles and cobwebs and glitter.
What was the last thing he said to you, when you had to say goodbye?
‘David Bowie said, ‘I’m always afraid as well. But this is how you can feel brave in the world.’ And then it was over. I’ve never forgotten it. And years later I cried when I heard he had passed.’
My friend was surprised I was delighted by this tale.
‘The normal reaction is: that’s just a stupid story. Fancy believing in an invisible mask.’
A day or two ago, I was at “boob” restaurant (like an owl one) for a best friend’s brother’s birthday. I got up to go to the bathroom. Talked to a waiter to ask where it was, blah blah blah, normal stuff. And when I was halfway across the restaurant, some guy at a table slapped my ass. And he and all his friends started laughing about it. I spun around and slapped him across the face back.
He got sooo pissed. Started yelling at me and calling me a bitch and then told me “You can’t hit me! I’m a customer!”
I’m pretty well developed for my age, and this happened when it was hot as fuck outside so I was wearing shorts and a tank top.
“I’m not a worker, asshole! And you shouldn’t slap their asses too just because they can’t hit you back!” I’m pretty sure I said something to the effect although I probably am explaining it as if I was smooth and calm back then, but I was an embarrassed, mortified mess
And then I asked one of the waitresses to call the police. The guy was backpedaling and trying to apologize.
Fun fact: I’m 15. Like I said, very well developed for my age.
So I told him no, we were both going to wait here for the police to show up so I could report him for sexually abusing and harassing a minor.
He panicked and was even trying to bargain with me, but like fuck I was letting him off the hook. Think of how many other girls this asshole has probably harassed! I just have the power to do something about it.
Police got there and I had about at least 50 witnesses to attest to the fact a stranger, who was probably like 40, slapped my ass, when I am, in fact, a minor. Not to mention he yelled things at me when he thought I was a worker like “You can’t touch me! I’ll beat your ass, cunt!” Which I referenced as him threatening me too.
The rest of his friends were mortified and had tried to leave but I insisted that they have to stay because the cops might want statements from them. Whether or not that’s true, I don’t fuckin know, but the manager seemed to agree enough to tell them to wait for the police.
I had tried not to, but as some point when talking to one of the waitresses while waiting for the police, I started crying because of how violated I felt. It may have done good for the police came in to see my crying, I don’t know, but the waitresses were all so sweet and tried to comfort me when they had the chance.
I intend to press charges. Since I am a minor I need my parents to help or whatever and I know nothing about this kinda thing but I can potentially get him labeled a sex offender, which he IS, so I want him to actually feel punishment for his abuse towards female workers (I doubt I’m the first girl he’s harassed, maybe just the first who could fight back without her job on the line, so I want to be the last girl he harasses), just… ugh. I just hope he gets the punishment he deserves. So… wish me luck with this whole “legal system” nonsense.
My hero
fuck him up
Make men pay for their misogyny.
omg girl, rip him apart for us
fuck yeah
No one should ever have to put up with this kind of shit. Nail his ass!!!
A Wisconsin mall Santa decided to handle one of the naughty list members early this year when a young girl told him her Christmas wish was for her stepdad to stop molesting her. He and four of his elves attacked the guy, who was waiting nearby, and pummeled him unconscious.
An eyewitness recalled, “Santa didn’t say nothing. He just grabbed the back of the guy’s skull and headbutted him REAL hard.” The witness continued on to say, “Then Kringle got on top of him and just started pummeling him. He was laughing and screaming ‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Motherfucker!’
So I work a retail job on top of many other jobs, and these two girls were in and out of my store at least 8 times. Which is sketchy and pretty much a give away that they were quite obviously stealing things, I’d see them stick their hands in their pockets or in their bags, but I was the only person at work today so I couldn’t stop checking people out in order to confront them…..which im sure they noticed.
Fast forward a few hours when they finally come back in, they had decided to purchase something to seem less suspicious. A 4$ pair of pearl earrings. At this point there is no one else in the store so I think Game On.
While they were scanning the shelves for anything else they might want, I’m looking at their pockets. I can clearly see the small ring through the fabric that they swiped earlier, the outline of tags shoved in their back pockets, amateurs.
Now for those of you that don’t know, I was stranded in Ireland for about a month with little to no money when I was a teenager and had to resort to being shady to get by till my cousin got me a ticket home.
Long story short, I am an excellent pick pocket. But I only use my powers for good instead of evil now.
So I followed them around the store pretending to bump into them as I put items back on the shelves, I stole NOT ONLY the product that they took, but everything in their back pockets. Now before you wag your finger at me just hold on a minute. They come to the register to get the one item they decided to pay for, and I’m smiling the whole time.
I tell them they price and then…I wait.
The one girl frantically patted her pockets, clearly confused and she looked at the other girl to ask “Where’s my money at?” This girl is clearly upset at this point and I suggested “Oh hey maybe you dropped it?” in the most sincere retail voice I can force my vocal cords to produce. Her and her friend drop to their knees and start searching for it. I let them continue like that for 10 minutes before I tell them that I had found it earlier and forgotten.
“You really should be careful the more you have in your pockets the easier it is for your money to fall out :)))))” I say, the statement unnerved them, they didn’t know if i KNEW or not. But they awkwardly shook it off with a laugh and I start to ring up the earrings again. BUT THIS TIME, I reach over the counter and start to ring up the items I had taken from their pockets. I dropped the tags on the counter and the merchandise hit the table hard, just like these girls mouths hit the floor.
You should have seen their faces it looked like someone had sucked the very essence right from their bodies. “Oh no she did not.” The one girl whispered as she checked her pockets yet again. Yes, Yes I did 🙂 i’m beaming, their reaction added ten years to my lifespan. They apologize, laughing it off like it was a funny joke. But I’m not done yet.This time I look them dead in the eyes and go “Would you like me to ring out whats in your bags too before security gets here?”
Shock, pure dismay and anguish come over them, they look at each other. Each of them looks at me like I have personally came and shot their dogs. I AM LIVING, I’m reveling in the situation. Slowly, they lift their bags and dump out more products than Mary Poppins could shove in her bottomless purse. I start ringing it all up. They look horrified. A total of 400$ worth of items. I hold the fate of these girls in my hands and they know it. Over 200$ is a felony larceny charge. But I think they have suffered enough and jail is not fun so I present the ultimatum.
“You buy it all and I’ll let you go.”
and that is how I made all my sales goals and fucked with some shoplifters.
Holy shit ur my idol, that was so beautiful I might cry
Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week.
Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts.
So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him.
So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that’s like… 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself.
That’s approximately 835 loaves of banana bread.
Now
Skip ahead a few years…
and they’re all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad’s bread and their mom comes in, “I don’t think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!”
“What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!”
This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that he couldn’t stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret.
My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was.
I just told my mom this had 1000 notes on it and let me tell you what
So it’s the first day of college and there are people handing out bibles everywhere
let me tell you a story
i picked philosphy as minor this semester and there are several “soon to be priests” who need to study philosophy before theology. to make it ven funnier it’s only me and other 5 women, all the other 40 are men priests.
on a rainy thursday (would you look at that coincidence) i got my pagan ass to class (heh) and i noticed some of them gave me weird looks because of my mjöllnir and my “””in your face””” pagan tshirt, so they started asking me why i was defying cristians with those accessories, in a catholic university and being probably baptized as christian when a baby.
i just let them talk and heard a lot about how wrong i was converting to an “unexistent” and “primitive” religion when i shit you not a thunder hit the building next to ours and almost got everyone deaf. i got startled but i tried to keep my cool to scare them off and i said in my morgan freeman sort of voice “don’t you call my gods false”.
they literally run away to the sight of me now.
Thank you for your continuation to my post it’s the best one yet
did i ever tell ppl about the time me and my family thought my older brother was gay and dating his best friend? they used to hold hands and cuddle and shit all the time and cause my brothers super quiet we kinda just thought that was him coming out and didn’t really say anything about it. this went on for maybe two yrs and then one day he arrives home with this girl and is all ‘id like you guys to meet my girlfriend’. at this point everyone is ’????’ and my mom is literally crying and like ‘u broke up with James?!?!?!’ and honestly I’ve never seen a man more confused in his life and yeah that’s the time my family fucked up for like 2 yrs
Why were they cuddling and holding hands may I ask
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