rSlash - r/Tifu By Sucking My Waiter's Finger In A Restaurant!
Episode Date: December 23, 2020r/Tifu What do you get when you mix margaritas with a confusing birthday celebration? A truly awkward finger-sucking experience. The waiter was trying to put whipped cream on OP's nose as part of thei...r happy birthday song, but drunk OP thought, "Oh, I know what to do! I'm supposed to suck whipped cream off his finger!" So, she gobbled this complete stranger's finger into her mouth in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where we read the best posts from across Reddit.
Today's subreddit is R-Slash Today I F-Dup, where OP goes to an adult toy store with
her parents.
Today I F-Dup by making a joke that calls one of my students to realize her dog didn't actually go live on a farm. I'm a secondary computer science teacher.
I teach kids aged 10 to 18, so a huge range of physical, mental, and intellectual maturity.
One of my favorite groups is my fifth grade inter to game design class. They're always
excited about basically anything we do, and they're young enough that they still care
about earning their respect to their teacher.
I have two kids in particular that stand out in the class, Chloe and Lena.
Chloe is one of the sweetest kids I've taught.
She's always bright-eyed and bush-y-tailed, a talented artist who has a lot of compassion
for the people around her.
She's also a massive space cadet and needs to be constantly brought back on track with
whatever's happening around her.
Lena is blisteringly intelligent and well-accomplished
for her age with a sense of importance
that goes along with being a semi-protege at age 10.
She became a Karen in utero.
She comes from a mighty line of Karen
then she'll one day walk among them as their queen.
We spend about a week working in a piece of software
that's been problematic for us from the start.
Lots of weird server hang ups and failed updates because we're in an international school
and we can't always connect properly.
After five class periods of watching them flounder, I decided that I would try something new.
I started up with a new software that didn't require an internet connection and had an
interactivity.
About five minutes into the activity, Chloe's attention slowly wandered back from wherever
it had gone.
Wait, this isn't that other software?
Why aren't we going to do that anymore?
I said, nope, their project went to live in a farm in Wisconsin.
We're doing something new now.
Chloe said, before we moved, my dog went to live in a farm in Wisconsin.
Oh, um, it took me a moment, but that was the only opening the Lena needed.
Parents say that when your dog dies, your dog is dead, Chloe, and then came the tears.
Today I have to, by going to an adult toy store with my dad.
This happened many years ago, but it's one of my favorite stories.
When I was 17, I went to Ireland with my parents.
We were there over my birthday, and I decided I wanted to get my nose pierced to celebrate. My mom and dad asked the hotel
concierge where we could get it done so they recommended a place and off we
went. As soon as we walked in the door we realized that it was an adult toy store.
We were surrounded by hardcore fetish gear, toys, and adult DVDs, but a worker
greeted us brightly and confirmed that they did indeed do piercings in the back.
My parents were permissive in labor when I was a kid, so they just kind of shrugged, giggled
with me, and let the guy lead us through to the back.
A heavily tattooed, outrageously attractive woman pierced my nose.
And although I didn't yet know that I was a lesbian, I was certainly interested in the
way that she apologized for the pain by saying, sorry sugar, in her lovely Irish accent.
Piercing complete and a bit woozy, I walked back into the adult toy store to find my parents
and spot my dad standing in front of a wall of dildos.
Checking out the dildos, I joked, but to my dismay, the man who turned to face me was not,
in fact, my father.
The poor random Irish guy took a look at me and said uncomfortably, I'm just looking around.
Keep in mind that, although I'm 17, I'm 4'11 and look to be about 12 years old.
So from this guy's perspective, an actual child had just interrupted his sex toy browsing
to question him about his behavior.
MORTIFYED.
I threw up my hands and said the first thing that came to my mind.
The most situational absurd sentence of my life.
Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I thought you were my father.
As the man's face contorted in horror, the implication of what I just said hit me and
I fled.
I found my parents and chewed them out of the store.
I told them what had just happened and they laughed all the way back to the hotel.
OP, the title of your post had me wanting to call the cops on your dead, but the story
actually turned out kind of sweet.
Today I effed up by almost dying.
I'm pretty sure sucking Dix
saved my life though. I almost died Liz Limon's style choking alone in my apartment. Easily
one of the scariest moments ever. I was talking to a friend on the phone and eating a burger.
My friend B said something funny in these pretty talkative. I wanted to get a quick
response in, like a couple of words it didn't even matter, something like, I know, right? So I swallowed and went to talk. Only no words came out.
I wasn't even really coughing. It was lodged solidly in my throat, and the more I struggled,
the further down it slid. Slowly. Be noticed, and ask if I was choking and couldn't respond, so I
just kind of coughed into the phone to confirm it.
He tried to call 911, but he lived in another state, so that wasn't going to be quick enough.
And there's like multiple locked doors for them to get through before they even get to
me anyway.
I was going to die!
I started not being able to stand, and started getting tunnel vision.
I had tears and snots dreaming down my face into my open mouth and I didn't even care.
I shoved my entire hand down my throat and nothing.
Remember how I said that I wasn't coughing and it was sitting in my throat?
I had to actually make myself cough to move it at all.
And then, as I randomly started thinking of irrelevant things, I was losing consciousness
and my focus was fading.
I remember this thing that my ex liked when I went down on him.
I had learned how to utilize my throat muscles in uh interesting ways. So with my last ounce of
energy I manipulated my throat muscles and forced them to shove the food back up. I threw up a
golf ball size chunk of food right into my hands and stared at it. Why was it so big? Did I not
chew at all? Before I threw it away and collected
myself. Y'all, I sat there stunned for like five minutes while being frantically begged me to
tell him that I was okay. I finally burst out laughing and relief and confirmed what was happening.
Then I told him what I did to save myself and we both cracked up. But oh my god man, next time
I might not be so lucky. Down in the comments
pretty much every post is talking about the self-heimlich, so I'm gonna teach it to you guys
because who knows, it might come in handy one day. Take your right hand and curl your
fingers around your thumb. Place your fist thumb first against your stomach, below your
ribcage and above your belly button. Then with your free hand, hold your fist.
Finally, with a strong sharp motion, push inward on your chest.
If you do it right, then you'll force air out of your lungs and do a sort of, hup, sound.
Also, if pushing with your fist isn't strong enough, you can slay your fist into a stationary
object like a table or chair.
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Your favorite festive sips are back
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Whether it's enjoying some meat time by the fire,
sipping a toasty chestnut-prey-line latte,
spending an afternoon with friends on the skating rink,
sharing peppermint mocus, or closing up for family movie night
with hot chocolates and caramel brulee lattes.
There's a holiday flavor to savor for every moment.
Share in the joy and sip on some magic all season long
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Today I have to...
...haha, today I have to buy sucking on my waiter's finger. Today I EFT a-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha- friend group gatherings, no gifts, just another day, and I'm totally fine with that. My
mom, on the other hand, felt bad that there was no celebration of any kind, so she was
insisting that we go to my favorite restaurant, a local Mexican restaurant. I agreed to go
for a very early dinner. We get there and we're having a good time, and it was nice to pretend
that the world was normal for a moment. I ordered a margarita, they IDED me, and figured
out that it was my birthday. Fast forward to the end of dinner, and I thought I was in the clear from a birthday celebration
from the staff. As they bring the bill, they put a big sombrero on my head and started
clapping and singing instead of dessert down in front of me. One of the guys had whipped cream
on his finger and went in to put it on my nose. Drunk me didn't comprehend that, and was
very confused. Due to the big
sombrero covering my face, he was kind of stumbling trying to find my nose. I thought,
oh, I know what I'm supposed to do. And my stupid self sucked the whipped cream off of
his finger. I realize immediately after that. No, Opie, that is not how you interact with strangers,
but it was too late. They picked up the pace of their singing and the guy ran away right
after and hid in the kitchen. The whole restaurant, which granted was like to other people,
but still stared at me and my mom couldn't stop laughing. We put my dessert in a doggy bag and left.
23 is off to a great start. Down in the comments, love hockey-trish at this.
There's a person behind every policy, and now we don't do the whipped cream no-sing anymore
belongs to you. Today I have to, by going on a date with an ill-behaved man child.
This happened in 2008, shortly after I got stationed in South Korea.
I was a lowly private, albeit a reasonably attractive woman in my early 20s.
I was at one night with some friends, when a tall, funny, red-head guy who happened to
be one of my friend's soldiers as it took me out to dinner.
My friend told me that it was a bad idea.
I asked why, but he wouldn't give me the details.
My exact words were,
what's the worst that could happen? I get a free meal and we don't click. As you may have guessed,
this was not, in fact, the worst that could happen. The following evening, we were supposed to
meet at the taxi stand outside of our post, but he was late. He also told me that he's at the ATM
and asked if I had cash for a taxi. Not a great start, but sure, I can spring for a taxi.
He gets to the taxi stand and we ask the Korean taxi driver and our mix of Korean and English
to take us to the nearby Air Force Base, which houses the only Chili's on the peninsula.
Something to the effect of, Adishie, Osan Kajusayo.
Sir, take us to Osan please.
We're going through the back roads and I ask what he thinks of Korea so far.
He starts going off on a rant about how these people don't even speak English, and I must
have looked at him like he had lost his mind.
As I open my mouth to speak, a little boy loses his ball and runs into the street to get
it.
This sets red off all over again, talking about how these people have no common sense.
And just really racist, weird, and out of touch comments.
When he finally takes a breath, I remind him that we're in their country, not the other
way around, and that everyone's been really respectful, so I'm not sure what his problem
was in the first place.
He gets mad and puts his headphones on, not saying another word to me on the whole
way to Osan. When we finally pull up to the Osan Air Force Base, I lean forward to pay
the driver and the driver says, in perfect English with an American accent, thank you
ma'am, that'll be X amount. And I could feel the blood rush to my face. Red does a double
take at this man's English and darts out of the cab. I apologize profusely and and the driver reminds me that he speaks English, tells me he spent 10 years in Chicago, and
that he knows that I wasn't the one being awful. I tipped him as well as I could, thanked
him and apologized again. We had to take another shorter taxi ride once we got on the base
on chilis. Red remained silent, and not surprisingly, I paid for this one too. Red, who's about 6'2", dressed in baggy clothes, bleach white shoes, pants, t-shirt, and
a baseball cap, decides to go to the restroom as soon as we're seated.
He comes back, immediately and loudly commenting on everyone staring at him.
Trying to lighten the mood, I say it's strange how clear it is which guys are army and
which are Air Force.
He asks how I can tell, which is almost almost funny to me and I use the phrase pretty voice to describe the Air Force guys. And
say the soldiers all look a little tougher. He starts yelling, actually yelling at me that
if I like Air Force guys so much I should go out with one of them. I just stared at him.
The server comes and I ask for a water. There's no way I want to be drunk around this
dude. He insisted the margaritas are the only reason to come to Chili's any orders one
for me. The server is a young woman who looks at me nervously, but I just not let her know
that it's fine. I ordered a buffalo chicken salad, he orders two appetizers, beer and a steak.
I had one sip of the margarita and let him finish it. On top of the three or four beers
he had. He snaps at the server, let him finish it, on top of the 3 or 4 beers he had.
He snaps at the server, sends his food back, and just as everything me and that he could
have done, we don't talk much.
The server brings a check back and he says to her, oh, we'll split it right down the middle,
or something very clearly to the effect of, I'm only paying 50% of that number.
She looks at me again and I take the check from her.
I am totally done at this point. Oh, if we're gonna split it, let's split it.
These beers are yours. The steak was yours. The appetizers are yours. Technically, the
margarita was mine, even though you drank it. But I'll take that and my salad, and you,
sir, can pay for the rest. The server is just standing there awkwardly
staring as I finally raised my voice at this
jerk. He opens his mouth to say something and I snap, what did I miss something? And I
hand the waitress my cash and he hands her his card. He didn't even tip, but I did. It's
worth mentioning that in Korea, tipping off the bases rude, but frankly, this waitress more
than earned it. He was totally silent the entire ride back, which of course I paid for.
I told a supervisor who was my friend who had warned me how it went down and apologized
for not heating his warning.
Somehow at physical training the next morning, Rated showed up in the wrong uniform and
was smoked quite severely I heard, but we never spoke again.
OP, when that taxi cab driver revealed that he spoke English and read fled from the cab,
he should have just stayed put and said, kid me out of here!
That was our slash today I have to up, and this is our slash puppy bloopers.
He comes back.
He'll go.
What do you got?
Is that for me?
He comes back in...
Hmm...
You go...
Come on now...
He comes back immediately...
Dog... comes back immediately. Dog.
Dog.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha.
Ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha.