Today I Fucked Up

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Used-Place4412 on 2025-05-23 20:30:32+00:00.

So this happened 2 days ago and I’m still not sure if I’m employed or about to be a meme.

I’ve been working my ass off trying to land this job in a company I really admire. Like interviews, follow-ups, little “thank you” emails that took me 40 mins to write just to sound casual. Finally I get the call—I'm in. Job offer signed. They say "hey come meet the team, we’re going out for a welcome dinner."

Cool. Chill. I can do this. I’ve been dreaming of this.

We get to this really fancy seafood place. I’m trying to act like I eat here all the time even tho the fanciest thing I’ve eaten this year is microwave risotto. Everyone starts ordering lobster. Like, one after another. And I’ve never had lobster in my life but I panic and go “Yeah same, I’ll have the lobster too.”

So already, I'm in deep.

Food arrives. Everyone’s got tools. Like actual plier-things and pokey sticks and some kind of seafood guillotine. I’m tryin to play it cool, watching how other ppl do it while pretending I totally know what I’m doing. I also said no to the bib they offered me like an absolute alpha idiot.

So I go in. I’m cracking and twisting and sweating. Then I go for the big claw. I grab the cracker thing and squeeze it like I’m trying to break into a safe.

The claw EXPLODES. Not like a lil pop. Like, full-on SEAFOOD GRENADE.

This massive chunk of lobster meat FLIES out—in slow motion—and lands right in my new boss’s wife's wine glass. Merlot EVERYWHERE. It splashes up and hits her face and her white blouse and just soaks everything. Silence. Like dead, horrifying silence.

I freeze. Like I’ve just committed a seafood hate crime. I mumble “oh my god I’m so sorry” and try to dab at her blouse with a napkin which, pro tip, don’t do that. She just looks at me for like 3 seconds... then BURSTS OUT LAUGHING.

Turns out she’s always hated lobster and was lowkey terrified of it the whole dinner. She said she felt like it finally “fought back.” My boss starts laughing too. Whole table joins in. I’m red as the lobster.

Next day she posts it on IG with the caption “I got clawed by Lobster Guy” and guess what… it kinda blew up. The company’s internal Slack made a welcome meme out of me with the caption “no clawbacks on this hire.”

HR sent me a lobster bib with my name on it. I start next week. Apparently I “made an impression.”

TL;DR: Tried to fit in at my first fancy work dinner, ordered lobster for the first time ever, launched a claw chunk into my boss’s wife's wine, ruined her blouse, now everyone calls me “Lobster Guy.” Still got the job. Somehow.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/PutAccomplished2133 on 2025-05-23 19:59:02+00:00.

Was talking to my girlfriend on the phone while also scrolling through emails. She said something sweet, I wasn’t fully paying attention, and due to many busy works and absentmindedly replied,

“Love you too.”

The problem? I had just switched calls. I had accidentally answered a client call from work without realizing.

Silence.

Then a gruff voice goes, “Uh… I love you too?”

I nearly choked. I stammered something like “Sorry! Wrong call!” and I hang the phone but the damage was done.

Now every time we talk, he ends the conversation with “Love ya, bud.” I’ve become the office joke. Even other client/coworkers who knew the story tease me with it.

TL;DR: Told a work client “I love you” by accident. He now says it back. Every time. Thats Gold.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/TheTriscuit on 2025-05-23 18:51:25+00:00.

Actually in the midst of this one right now.

I was let go in January and I've had an absolutely awful time trying to find a job since. Thousands of applications, only a handful of calls, and even fewer real interviews.

A few weeks ago, I was approached by a fairly large company in my area of expertise with a role that was perfect. I did the recruiter call and it went incredibly well, but I was leaving to travel across the country the next day and we had trouble arranging the next interview because the times the other interviewers were available I would be on planes. We actually managed to nail down a time, but when I tried to join the Zoom, it kept kicking me back. It turns out they had had to cancel the interview, but I hadn't seen the email because of the aforementioned plane time.

Skip to earlier this week and they finally managed to set me up with the hiring manager for an interview today. Everything was confirmed and set up. I woke up this morning, opened my calendar to see what my day looked like, saw my interview set for noon, and started going about my normal routine.

At about 1045, my dog started to get antsy, so I took her for a walk. Recently, I decided to start leaving my phone at home during at least one walk a day, so I could break the habit of just scrolling as I walk. I got home to a 10 minute old email from the recruiter asking why I wasn't on the zoom call. Confused because I still had 45 minutes until my meeting, I opened my calendar and saw that in my just-woke-up-grogginess I had mistakenly read the meeting as being at noon instead of 11.

I immediately responded to explain what had happened, but I fear the damage is done and I won't be hearing back from them. And even if I do, I now look like a total flake.

TL;DR: I misread my calendar like an idiot and left my phone at home while walking my dog, so I missed an interview for a job I desperately need.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/puhlea on 2025-05-23 17:25:12+00:00.

Ok I haven’t posted a lot on Reddit so apologies if my storytelling skills sucks.

So I, 18, am a pretty new and nervous driver. I’m very paranoid about going over the speed limit, red lights, unprotected left turns, etc. This also includes when I drive by police. I live by a very busy street that people often speed on, so there’s often police sitting on the side of the road waiting to catch people.

Anyways, I was driving to work today on this street and I see a police car. I double check my speed but am still nervous driving by so I’m probably giving the police car a weird, scared, look. I was also running late to a family event and was having a quick snack while driving. I was eating/drinking one of those small squeeze applesauce pouches. So, I drive by the police car, applesauce in hand, thinking I’m good, when I see it’s lights turn on and it start to pull off the side of the road. I’m very panicked and worried that something is wrong, and I’ve never been pulled over before, so I quickly pull to the side and wait for the police officer to come to my window.

I should mention that I also look very young for my age, like people have asked if I’m a freshman in high-school, not college.

Anyways, he signals for me to roll down my window and I oblige, my heart racing. He tells me that he saw a vape in my hand while I was driving by, and knows that I’m both underage and not allowed to drive under the influence. I was shocked by this, as I don’t smoke, nor would I be doing it while driving. But even though I know it’s not true, I’m very intimidated by him and freeze, stumbling out a “W-what of course not” probably making me seem even more guilty.

He’s pretty nice and asks to see the vape, to which I tell him there is none. He doesn’t believe me says he clearly saw me take a puff while I was driving by. I’m literally racking my brain trying to think of what he’s talking about when I remember my applesauce. I quickly grab it from the center console where I put it down and show it to him, saying, “This is what I had in my hand when I drove by, I promise it’s just applesauce, not a vape” . He looks quizzically at it, takes it from my hand to examine it, and then starts laughing. He’s laughing so hard that I also start chuckling with him, thinking how incredulous this is. He says that my applesauce pouch was exactly what he’d seen through my window and had assumed it was a vape. I assure him that there’s nothing in the car and my applesauce is nicotine-free. He goes back to his car after apologizing for the scare (he must have noticed my panic) and I go back on my way.

When I get to the event, I tell my parents and some other family members the story, and while most of them laugh, my mom looks concerned. She talks to me afterwards and says that she’s not convinced. I’m confused, because why would I tell this story if I was lying about the vape/applesauce. She also knows how much I love this little applesauce pouches and that I often bring them in the car. So, she asks to search my car “just in case” and I let her. She finds nothing of course but still says she’s to going to keep an eye on me.

So basically my mom was more suspicious than a literal police officer about my vaping/applesauce habits. I’m still going to eat my applesauce in the car but try to not around the police I guess? I also have my mom watching me like a hawk whenever I go out now.

TL;DR I ate an applesauce pouch while driving, police thought it was a vape, it was most definitely not. My mom was still suspicious of me.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Boudi04 on 2025-05-23 14:54:48+00:00.

Crazy title, I know. This fuckup actually happened a couple months ago, but the “oh shit” realization didn’t hit me until today.

So, I (20M) was in the "talking stage" with a girl, I liked her, she was really funny, had great energy, super sweet, and was an awesome texter. It was going pretty well honestly, loads of late nights texting, real conversations, some flirting, you know the drill.

A couple days in, we're texting at night, and the conversation turns towards dating in general, we talk for a while, convo is flowing very well, then she says something like: "wait haha, I can't believe I forgot to ask you, what are your green and red flags?". Simple enough, right?

For some reason, I assumed she meant "What green and red flags do you look for in other people?", so I answered confidently:

"Green flags: humor, communication, trust. Red flags: dishonesty, emotional manipulation".

I figured maybe it comes off a bit strong, and the red flags are pretty plain/obvious, but I couldn't really come up with anything else, and we've been texting for a while, things are going well, whatever. She goes silent for a minute or so, then hits me with "you're dishonest?".

At the time, I was like: "What is she even talking about?", I was really confused, said so, and she kind of tried to explain, but eventually said nevermind, and we moved on, convo felt a bit dry for a bit, but eventually it was right back to normal. At the time I figured it was some sort of weird miscommunication, and didn't think much of it.

Anyways, the whole thing ended up fizzling out not long after for other reasons, namely that she seemed to freak out if I asked her out, or when things ever got a bit too real for her. Disappointing, but I moved on, whatever, shit happens, not the point of the post anyways.

I had basically forgotten all about her, when I came across an Instagram Reel today, it was basically a Couple talking to each other about their own Green and Red flags, when all of a sudden, it hit me. The whole thing came rushing back, and I realized that I literally told this girl that I was an emotionally manipulative liar.

Looking back, it's a funny story, but I'm still pretty embarrassed, a part of me thinks that she probably figured out what I actually meant at the time and let it go, but another part of me says that she probably just remembers me as the guy who said he was going to lie to and gaslight her, because even when she called me out on it, I didn't realize what I had done. I don't think I've ever heard of someone fumbling this hard. Oops

TL;DR: Misunderstood a girl’s question and accidentally told her I’m a liar and gaslighter. Didn’t realize how bad it sounded until today.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/thegreatdamfino on 2025-05-23 09:21:57+00:00.

Disclaimer, this was many years ago but was a funny fuckup.

I was a student living in London, looking for some seasonal work over Christmas. I applied for an usher job at a really great cinema (if you know London, yes it's *the* cult cinema everyone loves). I got an interview, and, despite some nerves, it went well - I had a good rapport with the interviewers and we chatted in a pretty informal way about movies etc. The interview ended on a note that implied I'd be getting the job. I shook their hands, said thank you, and stood up to leave.

As I crossed the room to leave, I think the relief of the interview ending just flushed all the sense out of my body. When I reached the door, I suddenly and inexplicably just failed to open it. Instead of reaching for the handle, I just sort of started tapping the hinges like I was trying to find some hidden mechanism. Then I was just standing there with my hand on the door...waiting for something to happen? One of the interviewers had to come over and say, "Oh, it's actually like this..." and open the door with the handle. You know, the normal way. I gave a cheery, "Oh! Thanks!" and marched away. I managed to get round the corner before crumpling.

The worst thing is that the job I was applying for primarily involved opening up the theatre and checking tickets at the beginning of each screening. In other words, the main responsibility of this job was to open a door. No, I did not get that job. This was actually somehow not the worst job interview I've had, but it was the stupidest.

TL;DR: I ended a job interview by failing to open the door to leave the room.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/[deleted] on 2025-05-23 07:23:22+00:00.

Hello Reddit,

21 year old guy here.

Ever since I can remember I have really loved pokemon. When I was a kid I was very much obsessed with everything pokemon. I had a pokemon backpack, I would buy tins every month. I had binders of binders of cards I traded for.

I initially got into collecting because a dear friend of mine who is no longer with us today unfortunately, began teaching me how to battle at recess. I didn't really understand at first. And to be honest for the first few years I only collected the cards because I liked the shiny EXs lol. (Mega Charizard Ex 2016 specifically was a card I worked weeks to get. My all time favorite card.) my favorite Pokemon is actually Bulbasaur.

Anyways, life goes on and even though I grow, my obsession with pokemon cards doesn't age out. I was spending at least forty bucks a month on opening cards and packs to finish sets. Before my collection got donated (heartbreaking) I had finished 12 complete sets of cards.

So after highschool I really decided that I was going to focus on my future and decided to leave most of my pokemon card collection at home. I still have two very sentimental cards, one from a grandpa who passed away, and my first ever pokemon card which my friend gave me.

I initially assumed these items would be safe untouched on my bookshelf. My mom knew how much I loved pokemon cards and even when I was 11-15 she would purchase me cards on my birthday and holidays. I just don't understand.

Anyway, I get a call this Friday from my excited mom and she told me how she qoute "decluttered my room." From all the old mess that was in it. Instantly my heart began to race because my collection was worth well what I've paid into it. I would say around 4000 total. But a lot of cards I went to places to trade for or traded at events so there's immense value I just can't calculate that's now completely gone.

I asked my mom what she meant by decluttered and she explained to me about how she was going through the old rooms, (I have an older sister) and donating must of our old junk.

I of course panickingly asked about my pokemon cards. Silently praying that she didn't touch them. But in the most gut wrenching gleeful tone I could hear this woman who birthed me utter.

"Oh those old pieces of cardboard, I donated them to goodwill." I genuinely didn't even know how to react in that moment. I could feel the months, hours of videos, memories, flooding and fleeting. What had felt like a treasure trove I had collected now faded into nothing and what was replaced was the feeling of waste.

Like I feel like a part of my life itself has been tossed in the trash. Hours of openings and working to save for a new booster box; just zip. I would spend hours on the floor as a kid organizing just the extras I had because I appreciate these cards.

I won't lie reddit. I cried, I cried heavily, I am still crying heavily. This collection meant the world to me. I should've brought it with me to college so I could've better protected it. Like I genuinely regret not bringing them because I really thought about it.

I am so angry and devasted with my mom. Not only did she not even ask me, she flat out took what feels like a small part of me and gave it away. However, I really shouldn't of left it at home. I didn't know something like this was going to happen but my mom is crazy eccentric and manic sometimes.

I feel so angry and betrayed. I'm teetering on cutting this stuff woman out of my life and deleting her number. These cards meant the world to me and she knew it. She refuses to acknowledge their potential value, she doesn't think qoute "cardboard" can go for that much. I can't tell if it's ignorance or just plain a lack of understanding.

TLDR; My whole life I've collected pokemon cards. After gaining an impressive collection and heading off to college, my mom decided to, without warning, donate my collection of pokemon cards. Which practically grew up beside me.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/MycologistSecure4898 on 2025-05-22 18:01:18+00:00.

I live in one major city in my midwestern state and I have to travel to the state capitol 130 miles away for a training for work. I had to leave extra early to be on time. Somehow, in my haste, I forgot my wallet back at my apartment in the first city. I didn’t realize until I was about halfway to the capitol. I checked my mileage range and I realized I would have enough gas to get to the city but not back home. I’m also diabetic and I had no cash or card to buy lunch. Visions of myself passed out in a ditch by the side of the road flashed before my eyes.

My first thought was to use my Aldi grocery cert quarters to pay for gas. Maybe ask someone at the training for cash. But then I had the bright idea to google if gas stations take Venmo or Google pay (I am 30, but technology eludes me). Thank Goddess they did. I was able to gas and lunch 😮‍💨

TL;DR TIFU by forgetting my wallet and having to use the Venmo account I only have for office birthday card collections to pay for gas in a strange city far from home.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/ClassApprehensive264 on 2025-05-22 19:25:09+00:00.

This disaster unfolded over the weekend and I'm still living in denial about the $1,200 appliance currently blocking my building's hallway 💀

So my old fridge finally died (RIP to 8 years of faithful service), and I had some cash saved up from a work bonus recently. Saw this gorgeous stainless steel double-door beauty on sale and just... bought it. Like a complete amateur who apparently forgot that physics exists.

The delivery guys showed up Saturday morning, took one look at my second-floor walkup situation, and basically went "lol good luck." No elevator obviously, just narrow stairs and a hallway that was clearly designed by someone who hates large appliances.

My boyfriend and three of his friends volunteered to help (bless them), thinking "how hard could it be?" Cut to 2 HOURS of them trying every possible angle, removing the doors, tilting it sideways, basically attempting fridge Tetris while I stood there having a full existential crisis.

Plot twist: even if we somehow defied the laws of space and time to get it upstairs, there's this sharp 90-degree turn right at my apartment door that makes zero geometric sense for anything wider than a pizza box.

So now I have a $1,200 fridge chilling in the hallway (literally, it's still plugged in because I'm in denial), my neighbors think I'm insane, and I'm googling "do appliance stores take returns on items that are technically homeless?"

TL;DR: Bought a fridge that's physically impossible to get into my apartment, now I'm the building's unofficial hallway appliance dealer and my ego is in shambles.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/asleepattheworld on 2025-05-22 18:42:52+00:00.

I few years ago I decided a career change was in order and followed my love of plants into horticulture and conservation. I absolutely love my work, and a bit over a year ago was offered a permanent position with an amazing nursery. It’s the best job I’ve ever had and I love almost every part of it.

The one thing I find hard to deal with is working outside in summer. Where I am gets hot, often over 40C (105F) and I have always been a winter person preferring to hide in air conditioned comfort during heat waves. But with plants that’s not an option so I decided I’d toughen up and learn to deal with it.

Being sweaty is part of the job, but the worst part for me is under boob sweat. I’m a bit heavier, so I sweat a lot there and always had a red, irritating rash. I’ve tried different things like antiperspirant and rash cream but it was always a problem. I just figured I’d have to live with it.

A few days ago I noticed a few rashy spots on my side, and then a few more appeared. I asked my doctor about it and she said it looked like folliculitis and said it often happens in summer when people are sweaty. Couple this with being around potting mixes and composts all day and it’s caused me a small bacterial skin infection. She gave me the name of an antibacterial wash and sent me on my way.

I picked up the wash and figured since I was using it on my stomach I might as well see if it had an effect on my sweat rash. Well, today my rash is almost gone. So I’ve had a bacterial skin infection for over a year and just brushing it off as sweat rash. I feel so much better, but I can’t help feeling foolish that I could’ve had this dealt with ages ago and not been in so much discomfort at work. At least I know now I guess.

TL;DR - I put up with a bacterial skin infection for over a year because I thought it was just sweat rash.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/drofnas1 on 2025-05-22 18:33:39+00:00.

TL;DR: I’d been constipated for three days, finally found relief at a public park bathroom with no ventilation. Mid-process, an entire sixth-grade field trip stormed in, gagged, screamed, and reacted like they were in a horror movie. I had to sit through the chaos silently, then walk out knowing they all knew it was me. Then I went on my run like a hero.

The Great Bathroom Showdown

So a little backstory: I’d been constipated for three days—nothing was coming out. Then, today, my body decided it was finally go-time… right as I was getting ready for a run at the park.

Of course, being at a public park, the only option was one of those grimy public restrooms. Gross, I know. I went in and quickly realized there was just one stall and one urinal. No ventilation. Just a humid, muggy, stale-aired box of shame.

About 15 minutes into what I’ll generously call my “bathroom adventure,” I heard a crowd approaching the door. The second it opened, I realized—field trip. Sixth-grade boys.

Now, if you’ve ever been around middle schoolers, you know subtlety is not their strong suit.

The first wave walked in, and immediately the gagging started. “OH MY GOD,” “This is the worst thing I’ve ever smelled,” “What is that?!” They were dramatic—but honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I’d been brewing that situation for three days.

But it didn’t stop there. The kids just kept coming. It was like a clown car of chaos. Every new group came in, got hit with the stench wall, gagged, screamed, and then ran out to warn the next wave. All the while, I’m in the stall, silently praying for mercy, trying not to laugh or break composure.

Since there was only one urinal, the poor kids had to wait in line… inside. One by one, they were forced to endure the hell I’d created—gagging, talking, wondering aloud what sort of demon had done this. And it was me. Just me. Stewing in the shame, trying to keep it together.

Eventually, the stream of kids slowed. But by now, everyone knew how bad it smelled—and they were all waiting right outside the door. I knew it. They knew it. We were all aware of the showdown that was about to happen.

Finally, I emerged. There was one chaperon left inside, washing his hands. He turned, looked at me, and gave me a face of pure disgust—like I had personally betrayed his faith in humanity.

I washed my hands, fixed my hair, walked out with pride… and then went on my run.

Afterwords: 10/10 best run I’ve had in months

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/trashablanca on 2025-05-22 16:55:22+00:00.

Eight years ago, when I was a 20-year-old intern in the office I now work in full-time, I made a horrible mistake. I’d been there for maybe a month and I was loving it, but outside work I had zero skills. I hadn’t learned how to cook anything and I’d just improv my way through food, so whenever I made “soup,” I’d just dump a shitload of frozen vegetables whole into a giant mug of broth and microwave it.

My department shares a floor with HR, and it’s basically a long hallway of office doors on each side with a tiny kitchenette in the middle (it’s very Lumen, except for how the office doors are noticeably weirdly small for their frames - Ben Stiller would never). It was a Saturday and I went in to do some work, so I was the only person on the floor. I’d packed a soup for lunch, which I’d made by dumping a whole bag of frozen peas in one of my comically large ceramic soup mugs and adding some broth. At around noon I chucked it in the kitchenette microwave and somehow within a few minutes, the broth got to borderline boiling. And for some reason, when I reached to get it, I grabbed my soup not by the handle but by the mug itself. My hand had that delay between registering intense pain and reacting to it, and in that time I’d taken the soup out of the microwave, swung turned and was holding it over the floor of the hallway. I screamed. I dropped the mug.

Whatever, right? It’s just a mug, I could just clean it up. Ha. Imagine. What a world that would be. Instead, when the mug hit the floor, it shattered and… good god, the peas. I know there couldn’t have been hundreds of them, but it genuinely looked like it, it was like a grenade of peas that exploded into 20 power washers blasting peas in every direction. I guess the heat also hardened them or something because they were like little rubber bullets, bouncing every direction insanely far down both sides of the hallway, with more buoyancy than I thought anything edible could have. The peas went absolutely fucking everywhere, and remember those awkward too-small doors? Yeah, turns out there’s a giant two-inch gap between the bottom of them and the floor, which is more than enough space for 50 peas to jettison themselves under every single doorframe and rocket to the backs of each office, way beyond where I could reach them even with a huge stick, which I also didn’t have.

I’ve asked myself so many times over the years — in what fucking world were you going to eat all those peas? Was it TWO entire bags of frozen peas in there? All I could do was force myself to stop crying, mop up the broth in the hallway and retrieve the maybe five out of 5,000 peas that hadn’t gone under one of 10+ locked office doors for basically everyone in HR. I scrubbed the floors, collected every tiny sliver of the mug corpse in a bag and threw it out in a public dumpster 30 minutes away. Then I went home and thought to myself, “Maybe they won’t notice.”

Thus began The Pea Incident, our department’s ground zero, the biggest thing that ever happened in the office to this day. All anyone talked about for weeks were their theories about who broke in on the weekend and put such an insane amount of peas in everyone in HR’s offices, and how they did it (I vehemently agreed with everyone who suspected my least favourite office alcoholic). They called a series of executive meetings about a security issue and oversight in staff safety. There were so many presentations. I remember an exec asking, “What if it isn’t peas next time? What if it’s ANTHRAX?” I sat in meeting after meeting about it, taking the worst notes I’ve ever taken because my hands were shaking so badly I could barely type. Everyone had to start locking their office doors whenever they left, even if they’re just going to the bathroom or popping out for a second. They put additional scan locks on all the doors to the entire floor, and everyone still needs a special key fob to get the elevator to open on the right floor.

I developed stomach ulcers from the stress and barely slept for months, I was so terrified that someone would find out it was me. I’ve been scared for almost a decade, as my internship became a freelance position, then several contract positions, then a part-time permanent role, then, finally full-time permanent. And the stakes just kept getting higher (I have a chronic illness and my meds had hit more than $600 a month over the pandemic).

But thankfully, due to that very pandemic and super high turnover rates, slowly over the last eight years, everyone who was there for The Pea Thing has left. And the thing that I desperately needed to be forgotten was lost. Pea history became pea legend. Pea legend became pea myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge. Until yesterday. Because fucking “Carol” (not her real name) is back covering a mat leave. And Carol asked me yesterday if I remember the peas. I said, “No, I must have blocked the memory out because I am highly allergic to peas.” She said she still wonders who did it. She’s here for another eight months at least and I cannot let her catch me. Fuck you, Carol, and FUCK PEAS. I fucking hate peas.

TL;DR: Dropped a mug of peas in an empty office while I was an intern and they went under every single office door, thereby creating a massive security emergency and office-wide mystery that no one has cracked. I am playing a dangerous game.

Edit: buoyant (typo) changed to buoyancy (not a typo I think)

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Iputthemsomewhere on 2025-05-22 15:55:46+00:00.

So my girlfriend’s been stressed lately work stuff, life stuff, all of it. I thought, “you know what? I’ll do something nice for her.” Clean the flat, cook a proper meal, set up a little vibe. Not anything mad, just something decent.

I start tidying. All good. Then I think, candles would be a nice touch. I find one she likes, light it. Then I think music. I make a playlist. Then I think bath. She loves baths.

Here’s where I went wrong. I filled the bath way too early. Way. Too. Early. Like 45 mins before she’d even be home. Water goes lukewarm. So I try to top it up with hot water… forget I’m doing it. Go back to the kitchen to plate up food. Burn the garlic bread. Smoke alarm starts going off. Run to stop that, slip a bit.

Then I hear the bath overflowing. Floor’s soaked. I throw towels down like that’s gonna help. In the middle of this she walks in the door. I’m drenched. Garlic bread is black. Bath’s spilling out. Her exact words were:

“Were you trying to kill me or propose?”

It was supposed to be thoughtful. It looked like a crime scene.

She laughed eventually. But yeah, I think I’m just gonna stick to takeaway next time.

TL;DR: Tried to surprise my girlfriend with a relaxing night — ended up flooding the bathroom, burning the food, and nearly setting off the fire alarm. Thoughtful turned terrifying.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/ferdous12345 on 2025-05-22 13:27:18+00:00.

I posted yesterday about my oversight in reading the lease, which said vacating notice must be “written and mailed.” I sent out vacating notice by email assuming it would be okay, but then got charged $2000 for the next month’s rent. Freaking out, I assumed I messed up royally and would have to just pay. I thought they must have actually wanted a paper in an envelope snail mailed from my apartment door to their office about 100 feet away.

Lots of people said to fight back yesterday. I was feeling hopeless about it. If the lease says X and I do Y, of course I’m guilty and should be held liable. But I’m a broke graduate and couldn’t easily afford $2k, so I called this AM.

Leasing office confirmed that an email notice is OKAY. But, the property manager who I emailed didn’t enter it into the system. She called me profusely apologizing. I had her email me a confirmation afterward for the paper trail. The charge was canceled and I am officially on the books to move out.

All set! Thanks everyone for the support. Learned a bit about property law and also the biggest lessons: 1) read the lease carefully, and 2) follow up if you don’t get a response.

TL;DR I didn’t FU, and I was able to resolve the problem.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Background_Tax7115 on 2025-05-22 13:21:56+00:00.

I don’t do edibles often, but when I do, I apparently become a corporate caterer.

Took a gummy with my roommate on a chill Saturday night. 45 minutes in, I felt like I had to have McDonald’s nuggets. Like a spiritual craving.

I opened the app and thought, “I’ll order 50. That should be enough.”

Problem: I didn’t realize I selected 10-piece and changed the quantity to 50.

So… 500. Nuggets. what the h…

It cost $187. I didn’t notice until they showed up in three massive bags and the Dasher asked if we were hosting a party.

We were not.

We did, however, accidentally feed our whole apartment complex. One guy brought hot sauce. It kinda ruled.

TL;DR: Took an edible. Accidentally ordered 500 chicken nuggets. Threw an impromptu block party.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Gold_Platform_8781 on 2025-05-22 13:18:32+00:00.

I was leaving work and saw a woman walking a dog that looked exactly like my wife’s from the back. Same leash, same coat, even had the little pink bandana.

I was in my car pulling out of the lot and thought it would be cute to surprise her, so I rolled down the window and yelled:

“Hey sexy! I love you, baby!”

The woman turned around… and it wasn’t my wife. It was her boss. The dog? Similar. Not the same.

The woman? Mortified. She recognized me.

She works in the same building. My wife now has to explain why her husband shouted “I love you, baby” to her supervisor in the parking lot like we’re in a low-budget romcom.

TL;DR: Thought I saw my wife walking our dog. Shouted “I love you” from the car. It was her boss. Now I’m banned from pickup duty.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Comfortable_Age3800 on 2025-05-22 13:08:36+00:00.

Hello Reddit, this is awkward to post, but I don’t know who to tell and I want to share this to someone else.

Went in for my annual physical. I’m already awkward at the doctor’s office, so I nervously babble or do the whole nod-and-smile thing.

Anyway, the doctor walks in, chats a bit, and says, “Okay, take your pants off and lie on the table.”

And my dumb ass, instinctively, says: “You too.”

There was a long pause. He blinked. I blinked. We both knew what I said, and yet neither of us addressed it.

He just moved on like a champ. Professionalism of the highest order.

I lay on the table in complete silence, fully understanding that I’ll never emotionally recover from this.

TL;DR: Doctor told me to take my pants off. I said “you too.” I want to die.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/DesperateStory5949 on 2025-05-22 13:00:28+00:00.

I recently moved into my first apartment and was feeling kinda lonely, so I bought a very realistic taxidermy-style raccoon plush from Etsy. It was supposed to be funny. I named him "Ricky." Ricky lives on my couch.

Last weekend, my mom came to visit unannounced while I was at work. She let herself in with the spare key I stupidly gave her.

Apparently, Ricky was facing the door. On the couch. Like he was waiting.

My mom thought it was a real raccoon. She screamed, dropped her phone, and called 911 from the neighbor’s house.

By the time I got the frantic voicemail (“THERE IS A RACCOON IN YOUR HOUSE OH MY GOD”), two cops had already entered and “neutralized” Ricky by throwing a laundry basket over him.

I now have to pick up my raccoon plush from the police station.

TL;DR: Bought a realistic raccoon plush. My mom thought it was real. Cops got involved. My emotional support raccoon is now in custody.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Traditional_Track219 on 2025-05-22 01:34:03+00:00.

I (M, 25) started a new job recently. One of my coworkers, let’s call him Dan, is in his early 40s and super chill. We were at a casual company picnic, and I met a woman who was sitting next to him. I assumed she was his mom, since she looked quite a bit older than him and had gray hair.

So I said, “It’s so sweet of your mom to come support you!”

She looked confused. Dan looked horrified.

That’s when he introduced her as his wife.

Turns out she’s 39 and just went gray early. She’s literally younger than Dan. She was so nice about it, but I’ve never wanted the ground to swallow me more in my life.

Every time I see her now, I die a little inside. And yes, my coworkers call me “Oedipus” behind my back now.

TL;DR: I met my coworker’s wife and assumed she was his mom. She’s not. She’s his younger wife. I have not known peace since.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Suspicious-King4880 on 2025-05-22 01:26:04+00:00.

I’ve been constipated for four days. Painfully so. My girlfriend (bless her) has been checking in like she’s my personal bowel coach.

This morning, I finally had my moment of glory. I wanted to share my victory with her, so I sent a very enthusiastic text saying:

“IT’S DONE. I POOPED. GOD HIMSELF COULD NOT HAVE STOPPED ME.”

Then I attached a triumphant Bitmoji of myself riding a unicorn. Problem: I didn’t send it to my girlfriend. I sent it to the group chat labeled “Fam ❤️”, which includes my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and my 83-year-old grandmother.

Silence for an hour. Then my cousin replied, “Proud of you, king 👑”

TL;DR: Meant to text my girlfriend about finally pooping after four days. Sent it to my entire extended family instead. Now I’m the poop guy forever.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/my-peony-bud on 2025-05-21 22:25:10+00:00.

So, this happened earlier today, around 1/2am.

I am 5 months pregnant, and I've started sleeping with a pregnancy pillow. It's the best thing since sliced bread. I'm actually able to sleep comfortably through the night most nights now, especially as I've gotten bigger. But, I'm still kind of restless some nights. Like last night.

I was tossing and turning a lot last night, and just couldn't get comfortable. My husband stayed late in the living room, and I fell asleep in bed alone around 11PM, in my pregnancy pillow cocoon.

Now, around 1/2am, I remember barely coming to and feeling the need to turn again. All I remember before The Incident™ was sitting up in bed, barely conscious. As I turned over, I swung over my right arm towards my left side to brace myself....and I braced myself bringing my hand down onto the poor, innocent cheek of my darling sleeping husband. I immediately woke up the second my hand made contact with his cheek, and all I could say was "huh?"

He headed back to the living room for a few hours of slap-free sleep, before rejoining me at sunrise.

Sometime last year, he accidentally sleep-slapped me in the face. He sometimes has wild, involuntary movements when he sleeps, including flailing his arms. He fell asleep while we were cuddling, and he flailed his hand right into my face.

At least we're even now.

tl;dr: I accidentally slapped my husband in the face at 1am this morning, trying to turn my pregnant-ass around in bed.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/ferdous12345 on 2025-05-21 21:26:43+00:00.

Every time I have moved out of an apartment it’s been sufficient to email the office my leaving notice. The current lease at my old place said “notice must be submitted in writing” under a section called “lease termination.” Perfect, so I sent the email, and moved out. I didn’t get a response but I actually didn’t get a response at my old place either so I figured they just made note of it.

Today—10 days before lease end—I get an email charging me for next month’s rent. $2000. Surely a mistake, I email the office and try calling but no answer.

I double checked the lease and—in a separate section titled “notice”—it said that all notices must be sent by mail. So we never technically terminated the lease, and now we’re on the much higher month-to-month plan for June. Because I told my roommates I’d take care of terminating the lease, I’m gonna have to solely pay for it since it’s not their fault they trusted my dumbass.

Obviously my fault and it’s a huge learning moment for me. Now I’m going to be out $2000. That’s on top of my already nearly $1000 lease at my new place. So my limited savings are now drained.

Fml

TLDR—didn’t read the lease closely and I’ll have to pay $2000 for a month of rent there, and nearly $1000 for rent at my new place.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Parajurist on 2025-05-21 19:40:03+00:00.

I'm a white short french speaking canadian. Went to Los Angeles with a few colleagues for work. Stayed in a crappy Super 8 motel near Inglewood for 3 days, then bouncing somewhere in Arizona.

First it was sunny and breazy, the flight was a pain so I went for a jog right after dropping my luggage in my room. No phone, no wallet, only my room key and 5$ for a Gatorade or something.

I DID NOT KNOW the reputation of Inglewood prior to that jog. I did saw poverty, probably mental illness, beggars, a few tents here and there. It did not cross my mind that I could be in any danger.

Some people looked at me like a was an alien or out of place, but when I nodded, they nodded, when I said have a nice day they answered politely.

I did a 5k, stopped and walk until I found a convenience store. The clerk was behind a 6 inches bullerproof window and looked worried. He asked where I was from and i f I needed a taxi. Said nope, I'm just visiting and start walking back.

Then... a guy stopped me. He look distressed, was wearing a long short, no t-shirt, had scars all over and a few tattoos. He clearly had a gun tuck between his hips and short.

Not feeling too comfortable, but he's polite. Ask if I got money, said I got change and gave it to him. He looked a bit disappointed since it was less than 2$. I said thanks 'cause I hate running with coins in my pocket. We kinda started talking about hockey. We walked and talked a bit. Told him where I was staying. He did ask me if I had some friends there (I said yes). We fistbumped and he left.

I walk back to my hotel and found my colleague in panic. They were looking for me, tried to call (left my phone in my room). They ask what I did and I told them... well what I did, even the conversation 'cause I was curious about the gun rules, open carry etc etc. The look of horror of my colleagues. I PUT THEM IN DANGER. We're now a target and must absolutely change hotel. They're convince the guy is going to comeback to rob us. They freaking convince the accounting department and we did have to change hotel the same evening.

I kinda feel this reaction came out of, well, pure racism, but since I have been looking about Inglewood criminality and... it's not looking good for me.

TL;DR as a tourist I gave my place of stay to a poor guy with a gun, colleagues panicked and we had to change hotel.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/nnhuyhuy on 2025-05-21 19:00:51+00:00.

So, I'm Vietnamese, but I've been in the US since I was six. Just got back to Nam, feeling all nostalgic and shit. Decided to grab a milk coffee from a street vendor. Looked innocent enough, big plastic cup, tasted pretty good. Big fucking mistake.

I drank the whole thing. Every last drop. Now, I've smoked weed, I've even hit thuốc lào (Vietnamese pipe tobacco) – thought I was tough. But this coffee? This shit was on another level. My heart started doing a goddamn drum solo. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I swear I was seeing sounds and hearing colors. It felt like I'd mainlined pure anxiety.

Ended up in the hospital, looking like a total dumbass. Pretty sure the doctors just laughed at the Americanized kid who couldn't handle his coffee. They hooked me up to an IV and told me to chill the fuck out.

Seriously, Vietnamese coffee ain't coffee; it's a goddamn recreational drug. Never again. My heart's still trying to escape my chest. Vietnamese coffee is fucked.

TL;DR: chugged street coffee, hospitalized by caffeine overdose.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/This-Newt6102 on 2025-05-21 16:20:50+00:00.

This was dumb of me. I am aware. Was having a conversation with a relatively new friend of mine and recently we’ve been into talking hypotheticals. What would you do if you were kidnapped by Dwayne Johnson? What would you do if you had eight million dollars and could only spend it on food? Random stuff like that.

Today we got on the topic of future kids somehow and she asked “What would you do if in the future your kid came home with a tattoo and they weren’t eighteen yet?”

I argued that if it was something meaningful I would be okay with it. I’d be upset they didn’t ask but I would get over it. But she said she would never let them get away with it under any circumstances and they’d have to be punished.

This happens often, we almost always disagree on what we would do and we have a fun lighthearted debate over it. This is just our personalities, it’s never an actual argument or anything of course, it’s just for jokes.

So I said “not even if it was super meaningful to them, like a tribute tattoo or something?”

And she said “nope, nobody under eighteen needs any tattoos”

Now I respect that opinion, but I’m just trying to see if I can make her budge at all, because that’s part of this little game after all.

So I (quite stupidly) said “really? What if their grandma died really tragically and they want to memorialize her? Like imagine your mom died, you’d be devastated”

….

There is an awkward silence and she just goes “my mom died of cancer last year 😐”

I honestly couldn’t tell if she was just making a bad joke but it became evident she was definitely not. So yeah. My bad. I shouldn’t have assumed that she still had her mom I guess, but she’s only nineteen and it didn’t cross my mind that her mom might have died so early.

TL;DR: we were talking and she said she’d never let her kid get a tattoo under any circumstances before 18. I stupidly countered that with “what if it’s a memorial tattoo? Imagine if your mom died or something” and… well… her mom is dead