rSlash - r/TIFU by Dragging a Girl's Dead Body into my Apartment Elevator
Episode Date: September 20, 2021r/TIFU In today's episode, OP experiences what can only be described as a date from hell. He hooks up with a girl, and in the middle of the night she starts acting really weird. He kicks her out, and ...she collapses in the hallway of his apartment complex. He then drags her lifeless body to the front desk to get help. The paramedics arrived, and she was clinically dead for a few minutes! Luckily they were able to revive her, and then the girl asked OP for a second date. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Welcome to R-slash, a podcast where I read the best post from across Reddit.
Today's subreddit is R-slash today I f'd up, where OP drags a dead girl onto an elevator.
Today I f'd up because I thought the smell on my kitchen was from my fridge.
So I live in a triplex with my boyfriend, and the other two units are occupied by an elderly man,
and a guy around my age upstairs. A few weeks ago, my unit lost power for a few days,
resulting in all of our food and our freezer going bad.
After coming back from my boyfriend's parents' house,
we noticed a smell in our kitchen.
I just assumed that it was our freezer
from the meat inside going bad.
So I removed everything and scrubbed it out,
but the smell remained.
It was like this for a week or so,
and I kind of lost track for how long.
I just assumed that I had to err out the freezer more.
A few days ago, my upstairs neighbor knocked on my door asking if I could smell the ungodly
smell that he had in his unit.
Not connecting that I had a smell in my fridge, I said no.
He said that it had been there for a few days and that he couldn't get rid of it.
The next day, he knocked on my door again and asked if I had seen our other housemate recently.
The smell was now in every crevice of the property in the 90 degree heat.
Sparing the gruesome details, we ended up calling the cops for a check-up because we couldn't
get him to answer the door. Turns out that he had been dead for a while and we were smelling
him too long didn't read. I thought that my fridge was dinking, but it turned out to be my neighbor's
corpse in the summer heat. Today I effed up by having a date with a girl from the pet store,
and I ended up having to explain to the cops why she's not breathing in my lobby.
Strap yourselves in ladies and gentlemen, you're in for a ride. So a little backstory.
I got a rescue puppy back in January, and she was terrified of everything
and everyone. There was a pet store down the street that I used to carry her to to try
to expose her to the outside world and other people. The girl who worked at the pet store
instantly bonded with my puppy, and wow! My dog wouldn't let anyone else go near her
without her crying or peeing or being terrified, so naturally we became regular.
And the more and more I interacted with this girl, and the more I saw interactions with
my dog and other people in the store, she seemed super sweet and just an all around good
person.
I asked her for a number, even though I felt uncomfortable doing that to a woman in
her place of work.
But she seemed receptive, so that's good.
It's also surprisingly hard to meet someone in my city.
We exchange a few messages
and go out for a walk with my dog together.
Everything seemed great.
She's educated, cute, loves animals.
Everything seems great.
We end up back in my place for a few drinks,
and this is kind of an important detail.
We stop drinking around 10 p.m.
She ends up staying over,
and this is where things start going downhill. I woke up in the
middle of the night, and she was yelling at herself about her dad was a butthole and some other crazy
talk, very scattered subjects. This was very strange behavior for 2am. I tried to calm her down and
figure out what the hell was going on. She didn't even seem to notice she was doing it. Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you? We had a really nice evening, but this girl just turned crazy. There was clearly
something wrong with her. She wasn't shouting at me or even at herself, just shouting out
into the empty void. I repeatedly tried to stop her, but she couldn't see the issue, almost
as if she wasn't even aware she was doing it. Eventually I just gave up and went to sleep on the sofa because I just couldn't deal with it. She came
up to me and cried and said that she didn't mean to upset me, and can we please just go
back to sleep together? Sure, that's all I wanted anyways. Can we please just sleep and
can you please just stop shouting, yelling and talking? When we got to the bedroom, she turned around and she had the craziest eyes I've ever seen
and I've dated redheads.
She said, don't you ever effing talk to me
like that every again or I swear to God.
Nope, get out.
I cut her short on whatever threat she was going to make
until her to get the F out.
Cue the crying, but I'm a girl, you can't do this to me.
Yeah, I don't care, I am not doing this.
It's 2 a.m. and I'm not having you talk to me like this.
At this point, there was a lot of back and forth with crying,
but how am I meant to get home to, well, F you, I'm leaving.
So she gathers her things and then claims not to know how to leave the building.
It's a condo building.
You walk down the hall to an elevator.
If there isn't an elevator, then you went the wrong way, so go the other way down the
hall.
Bear in mind that she lives in a condo building three blocks away, so it's not like she
doesn't know how a condo works or what area she's in.
So I offer to walk her to the door or at least the elevator.
I just want her out. So I help her gather her thingser to the door or at least the elevator. I just want
her out, so I help her gather her things and open the door for her and start showing
her where the elevator is. While walking down the hall, she collapsed, like dead weight,
and no, she was not faking it. She was out cold just out of the blue, just folded up
right there in the hallway. Now, here's where I screwed up. My thought process was, oh hell no, you're still leaving.
So I dragged her unconscious body down the hall and bundled her in the elevator.
Yes, I am very aware that this was a mistake in hindsight.
Bear in mind that I never expected to actually go down the elevator.
So you can imagine the look on the concierge's face when I rock up out of the elevator in my box or short saying,
oh man, I really screwed up, you gotta help me out here.
The concierge style 9-1-1, and then the elevator disappeared with the girl still on it up to the fourth floor.
We called it back, but obviously someone had tried to use the elevator and the door would have opened up to that train wreck inside.
I'm sure the look on whoever that person's face was would have been priceless.
Anyway, the elevator came back down and she was still unconscious. We're talking to the 9-1-1
operator answering their questions and giving our address. What happened next was like a horror movie.
The concierge and I turned around and she's awake. She was just standing there crazy eyes and all.
She was awake just long enough to yell at the concierge before she passed out again.
This time she hits her head on the marble floor of the lobby.
I will never forget the sound of her head hitting the floor or the concierge's,
ooh, wins at the sound of it. So here's how the 911 call went.
The 911 operator was on speaker
phone with me in the concierge there. The operator said, okay, so I need you to say, now every
time she takes a breath, and I don't want you to stop until I say so. Do you understand?
Yep. Okay, start now. Okay, I don't think you understand my instructions. No dude, I understood.
Okay, so start now and don't stop until I say so.
Okay?
The 911 operator starts to say something and I say, dude, I understand if he takes a breath
I'll say now.
So at this point, the girl was just not breathing.
Okay, you need to start CPR and the concierge needs to go get a defibrillator.
So here I am in my boxers doing CPR in the lobby of my building.
A fire truck pulls up after only two minutes and they have a defibrillator.
The concierge still hasn't come back yet.
So the fireman takeover and an ambulance shows up shortly after that, so they bundle her
in the back and drive off.
Oh my god, what just happened?
And at this point, the cops
turn up.
Did I mention that there's cameras in the elevator, which only showed me dragging an unconscious
girl to the elevator, who is now not breathing? Yeah, try explaining that one. So the cops
want to know, why are you kicking a girl out at 2am, and why is she not breathing? And
what's all the stuff on the video?
I told them everything, but of course they don't believe me, so now I'm terrified.
What if she's dead?
Nothing about this looks good for me.
What if she's alive, but she clearly has psychological issues and decides to remember
things a different way.
Or what if in her mind I attacked her?
Or what if the cops show up attacked her? Or what if the cops
show up to her and say, what did he do to you, ma'am? And then that triggers her to say that I did
something. Fast forward three days, and every time the phone rings, I'm expecting it to be the cops.
I have no idea if this girl is alive or dead. Or if she woke up in the hospital and the cops
are questioning her, what did he do to you, ma'am? Every day, I had this hanging over me.
I don't know what to do!
I did text her to see if she was alive, but I got no reply.
One day, I'm heading out to get a bottle of wine, and, bam, she's right there in front of me!
Hi, how's it going? It's so great to see you!
Uh, hi, I thought you were dead.
Oh, I was, but just for a few minutes.
Yeah, I know, I was the one doing CPR.
Oh, I'm sorry, that explains why my chest hurts, I guess.
Oh well.
So, you wanna hang out?
We could go back to your place for some drinks again.
She had no recollection of what happened.
And she wants to come hang out
with me? No. Absolutely not. She had no idea about any of it. Needless to say, I said no.
I said I'm glad you're alive, but good luck and good bye. She left me a two minute long
voicemail a few days later, crying and trying to apologize, but I do not need that in my
dog's life. I have many questions, as do many of my friends, as well as people in the comment thread that
I put this on before.
And unfortunately, I don't think that I have the answers to any of them.
And I am not going to try to contact that person again to try to find some answers.
And I'm aware that dragging her down the hall and throwing her in the elevator was not
the kosher thing to do.
So down in the comments, everyone is speculating about what actually happened to this girl.
And it seems like one of the most common replies is that this was probably some kind of
like psychotic break or a diabetic event which can apparently result in things like this.
Either way OP, this sounds like the first date from hell for both of you.
You were terrified out of your wits because yeah I would too.
And your date with the poor girl, got dragged through the hallway and dumped on the elevator
like some bag of trash.
OP, I understand that you had been drinking and that you were probably groggy because it
was 2am and you were terrified, but dragging an unconscious girl to an elevator at 2am
is a bit much.
Today I have to buy getting fired because I cried.
Okay, so this happened about two years ago.
I'm a 25 year old guy who lives in Iran, which is a very sucky country to live in or be
born in.
Everything here sucks and it's incredibly hard, including finding a job.
I've been unemployed since COVID hit my country, and just recently I managed, including finding a job. I've been unemployed since COVID hit my country,
and just recently I managed to finally find a job.
COVID is still raging here since they won't vaccinate us,
so most times we work from home.
I've been dating this girl for about nine months,
which I know isn't a long time.
But since I'm planning on leaving this country forever
in a few months, I've really invested myself
in this relationship because we plan to leave together and everything's been going so smoothly.
My anxiety was practically gone and I was really happy after a really long life of being depressed.
Yesterday, out of nowhere, my girlfriend broke up with me and told me that she isn't
feeling the relationship anymore.
And that I'm a really good guy and she doesn't want to hurt my feelings in the long run.
This destroyed me, but I understand.
I told her to give us another chance, but she said no, it's better this way.
She's a very honest person, so I believe her and I leave.
I accept the outcome, even though I immediately start crying.
Anyway, today I'm so pretty bummed out, but I gotta go to the office for a couple of
hours, and my boss is there to help me, which is a big relief since I really didn't
feel like working.
I take a smoke break, and I start thinking back about my fond memories with my girlfriend,
and I start crying a little.
I go back upstairs, and my boss immediately finds out that I've been crying, and he insists
on me telling him what happened, so I do. He looks me dead in the eyes and says asked me to leave immediately, so I packed up my stuff and did as I was told.
Yesterday I was like, I'm not sure if I was right or not.
I was like, I'm not sure if I was right or not.
I was like, I'm not sure if I was right or not.
I was like, I'm not sure if I was right or not.
I was like, I'm not sure if I was right or not.
I was like, I'm not me like I was insane and asked me to leave
immediately, so I packed up my stuff and did as I was told. Yesterday I had a
girlfriend whom I loved, a job and a good future ahead of me. Now I'm just a
guy who has to leave his country and everyone he loves because he was born in
one of the worst places possible and he's doing it completely alone and
broken. Honestly, maybe
boys shouldn't cry. Down in the comments, we have this story from Unfiltered America.
A few months ago, I had an employee hit a really rough patch with his lady. He called me up in the
middle of the night asking if I could come pick him up because he had to leave his house.
This guy is tough. He spent time in prison, has tattoos from head to toe, left his pass behind him,
and has become an honest person, bettering himself every day. When I picked him up, I took him over
to the bar that I run, sat him down with a big glass of water, and he cried. He cried hard,
loud, painful, sobbing, snobbles out the nose cry. I sat and listened, refilled his water and listened more.
His mom had died the month before from COVID, and it was taking its toll on his relationship,
since his whole extended family all shared the same roof.
I never thought less of this man, not even once because he showed that side of himself
to me.
I made sure he got back home okay once he cried it out and calmed down.
And the next day he worked, he came into my office and gave me a hug and said, bro, I've
never had a boss like you, man.
You have no idea what that meant to me.
I had no one else to call.
Thank you, man.
Bro, I love you for what you did.
Okay, I'm totally with this second post to here.
I think it's completely reasonable for men to express vulnerability and pain and just be like,
hey, thanks suck for me, I need some support. So, I have a story for this. I'm really, really clumsy.
I'm constantly like falling and tripping over myself. And so, I was walking up the stairs from
the basement where I've got my office. And when I put my first step, okay, let me describe this.
My feet are on the ground floor,
and I put my first foot up onto the step.
And then I go to put my second foot up on the next step.
The first foot that was on the first step slipped.
So I slipped down to the ground level,
and I tried to catch myself with my left foot, which was
suspended in the air, but what I actually ended up doing was when I landed my left foot,
I landed the heel of that foot directly onto the big toe of my right foot.
So because I was so off-balance, literally all of my weight of my entire
body was being forced down into my left heel, which was crushing absolutely obliterating
my right big toe. And to make matters worse, because I was surprised and shocked, my right
toe, my right big toe was pointed upwards. So my right big toe
stabbed like my toenail stabbed the heel of my left foot with like the full weight of my body.
So I managed to hurt myself in two different ways by crushing my right foot and stabbing my left
heel all at the same time. And it was it was excruciating. I just like got on the floor and just sat there
and just mooped for like five minutes as the pain radiated through both my feet. And then finally,
I picked myself up and I'm like, okay, dad, me, your man, get over this. It's not a big deal. It's just
some pain. And I slowly limped upstairs. And I get upstairs and my wife is on the sofa.
I'm like, I'm limping and I've got this grimmest on my face.
And she looks at me and she's like, are you okay?
And I'm just like, I got a poo poo.
And of course, she laughed and she expressed concern
and she asked me what was wrong.
And I told her to the story.
And she laughed at me.
My own wife laughed at me
that I stabbed myself with my own toe and crushed myself with my own you. So like I don't
know, it feels silly to like not experience this whole range of emotions just because you're
a guy. That's ridiculous. What's wrong with crying? What's wrong with feeling sympathy and
sadness and expressing pain? You know, I'd rather be in tune to my feelings and understand what I'm feeling and express those feelings,
than be some repressed backwards macho tough guy like, what's the point?
Today I have to, by ruining my boyfriend's proposal, that he had been planning for three years.
I'm a 32 year old woman and I've been with my boyfriend who's 31 for three years as
of yesterday.
Lately, we've been talking a lot about getting married and starting a family.
When we started dating three years ago, we both knew that's what each of us eventually
wanted.
I've been hinting that I'm ready to get married and I've been feeling like he's dragging
his feet a little bit.
He would always be very coy about it and say things like, just you wait.
I thought this would have happened months ago,
and I've just been trying to be patient
and trusted over post when it's time.
Since we started dating,
he's given me a card for every holiday,
like Valentine's Day, birthdays, et cetera.
He would always write the longest,
sweetest cards that were kind of unlike him
and always very personal and emotional.
He would talk about trips that we'd
take in and they were seriously the sweetest cards anyone had ever gotten me. So I saved every one of
them because they meant so much to me. I noticed that he would have little doodles and certain letters
would look weird or have little marks on them. But he just blamed it on his terrible handwriting,
which I believed. It wasn't overtly obvious, so I was just like, okay, whatever,
the card's great. Over the years, every card would be marked up like that, and I just
stopped paying attention. Getting his cards was what I looked forward to the most
on special occasions, more so than any gifts or flowers. Today, he gave me a beautiful
necklace and the sweetest card that he's written thus far. There was a lot of talk about
us being together forever, and how I miss person and things like that. It actually made me cry from happiness.
So, later in the night he goes to play guitar and I decide to reread the card because I'm all in
my feelings at that point. I then notice a question mark on the back of the card. Then I noticed
that certain letters in his card are circled. I had a big brain moment, and I thought this must be some kind of riddle.
The word spell out, A-R-R-Y-M-E.
So without thinking I say, of course I'll air you, babe, and he looked like he'd seen
a ghost.
Every card that he's ever given me has spelled out his proposal.
That's what the weird marks by the letters were for.
He said he knew that he was going to marry me when he met me, and he's been planning this
for three years. He said he planned on telling me to gather up the cards and say it was
a game from Facebook or something, so I would spell it out and he would propose. This
was supposed to be the last card. I can't believe that I didn't figure it out earlier,
and he basically told me that he's going to just throw the ring at me now.
He's joking, of course.
Too long didn't read.
My boyfriend reposted me like the riddler, and I figured it out too early and ruined it.
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