True Stories Of Entitled Parents That Made Us See Red
19. I Wouldn't Pet That Cow If I Were You...
“So I live on a ranch, and we own some cattle. Hay has been really expensive lately, so we needed to sell some cows to afford hay. We had a listing online and some other places about cattle for sale. We had some cows ready for the butcher, so we put them in another pen.
A lady DMs us and asks if she can come to the property and take a look. We agreed on a time and then discussed what type of cows we had.
The day the lady was supposed to arrive. She seemed to be running late.
We waited and she didn’t show up. Later she apologized for not showing up and she asked if she could swing by the next day. I told her that I was going to be doing some busy work but I’ll probably be free later in the day.
So it was settled.
The next day, I was running some hay to our cows, and when I pulled into the driveway, her car was there. I get out and immediately I am met with
Entitle parent (EP): ‘Where have you been?’
Me: ‘Oh you’re here early.
I said I was doing some stuff with the cows, but I’ve got some time to do this real quick.’
So I take her to the pen and she looks in. She points to the other pen and says
EP: ‘Why are they separated? Shouldn’t these guys be together?’
Me: ‘Oh no, we are butchering them this summer, so we put them in there so we can fatten them up a bit.’
EP: ‘Butcher! You torture these wonderful creatures?’
Now I’m not one to judge someone who is against animal abuse, in fact, I am with them.
Some of these big industries do treat their animals badly and it’s a problem. I am one not to do that. Cows give us food, so I make sure that my cows are taken care of properly. But, what is this lady expecting? I don’t care if people like meat or don’t, or eat it or not.
I could give 2 craps. But she came out to a ranch, a cattle ranch. There’s bound to be cows heading to be butchered.
Me: ‘Oh ma’am I assure you, these cows are treated like Kings. I make sure their death is quick and painless.
But these are the cows you are looking for.’
She just scoffed.
I take her by the pen we were supposed to be looking at. So how is this Karen an Entitled Parent? Well, she had a kid in her car. She was buying him a cow as a pet.
She had a small trailer, probably only big enough for 1 cow. At this point, she called him out of the car.
EP: ‘So which one do you like?’
Entitled kid (EK): ‘I like that one!’
This kid had pointed to a calf. This calf was too young to be weaned (taken from his mom), so he would have to be sold with his mom.
Me: ‘If you want that one you are going to have to buy that red Angus right there, that’s his mom and he’s too young to leave her yet.’
EP with a disgusted look: ‘So I have to buy both?’
Me: ‘Yes ma’am.
But since she’s a mom she’s very protective so let’s find another cow.’
EK: ‘But mom I want that one!’
EP: ‘My baby wants that one. He’s just so cute and small. I don’t want to get anything too big.’
Me: ‘So if that’s the case, you should go look for some miniature cows.
I know some sellers and I can get you their contact information.’
EP: ‘Yeah but I’m already here.’
EK: ‘Mommy can I go pet the cow?’
EP: ‘Sure sweetie! What’s the big deal? He just wants to pet the cow.’
Rule #1 with cattle: be aware of your surroundings.
If you see a cow with a calf, and the mom is high-headed, don’t go near it. This kid is too young to understand, but his mom is too stupid to look out for her kid! Now the mom of the calf this kid went to go pet is a total witch! She will not put up with anything!
So the kid crawls under the panel, and he looked to be about 10 or so.
Well, I had to try and go into the pen, but I needed a cattle prong. (A cattle prong is just a long rod that delivers a light shock to the cattle. It’s the equivalent of a shock collar for dogs, except it’s just long so people can stay safe and keep their distance.)
Her son goes to touch the calf, and the mom is giving all the warning to stay away.
He gets close to the calf, and it freaks out. Cows kick to the side, not to the back like a horse. So the calf kicked this kid square in the side of the head. He fell over and started screaming.
So did his mom. I hate to say it but it felt so good to see that Entitled Karen see what happens when her dumb self doesn’t listen to professionals. But now with all the screaming, the rest of the cattle are wound up.
I get my cattle prong, rush into the pen, and as the mom was about to start charging this poor kid, I start herding her away from him, and I get him out of the pen. I gave him back and told her to get off my property. She started yelling at me but I just tuned her out. I can’t stand people like that.
Moral: Listen to the people who know what they are talking about!”
18. Think You Can Get Away With Wreaking Havoc? Think Again
“Last night a very young-looking woman came in pretty late. With her, she has a baby (maybe 4-6 months) and a toddler. This is probably around 9:15-9:30 pm.
She grabbed the fixings for a steak dinner for 2 and a kid’s frozen dinner.
She had a bottle of red wine. She doesn’t look anywhere near 21, she looks more like 16. Cashier asked for ID. She doesn’t have it on her. Sorry, no wine tonight.
Cue the demand for a manager (me).
I said the same thing, no ID, no wine.
She started screaming at me that they just moved to this area and she has misplaced her wallet. I’m ruining her Valentine’s day because her husband just got in from bringing another load of their stuff and she NEEDS this wine.
Sorry, but sob stories won’t keep me out of jail, from getting fines for me and the store, loss of job for me, and loss of liquor license for the store. I can’t help you.
She was livid, it was quite obvious on her face.
She paid for the food and started to walk away. She made it as far as the door. The bagger had just started walking to return the wine when she ran back to him, grabbed it, and spiked it like a football after scoring the winning touchdown.
She ran out the door with her cart and kids.
Oh yeah, calling the police. I got her license plate and the make of her car. I dealt with the police officer and made the report while the other closing manager finalized the closing of the store and supervised the cleanup.
We left around an hour after the incident.
I had to drop some stuff off at my mother-in-law’s so it took me in the opposite direction that I would normally take. Going in this direction took me past the liquor store. I noticed 2 police cruisers with lights in the parking lot.
One of my brother’s best lifelong friends is the night manager of this liquor store. This man has been like a little brother to me for nearly 40 years. So my worried (and nosy) self turned in. Yep, there’s his car.
I parked next to it.
A 3rd cruiser pulled in. It was at the same time I realized the only customer car in the lot was matching the young lady that had smashed the bottle of wine at the feet of my minor bagger, endangering him with the glass shards.
The officer stepped out of his vehicle and it’s the same one I had just given the report to about half an hour prior.
I stepped out and called him by name before he went inside. He recognized me and took a step closer.
I pointed at her car and told him I was pretty sure that was the vehicle belonging to the young woman from my report.
He looked at it, nodded, and walked into the liquor store. I sent a text to my friend, hey, call me later, I think you have called the police on someone I had to call on also!
We finally connected around midnight.
Yep, it was the same person. She had attempted to enter the liquor store with her children and he stopped her. In my state, you have to be 21 to enter a liquor store (or smoke shop). There are no exceptions.
Not even for babies/small children. There are big red signs on the door stating this.
She immediately told him that was ridiculous, she needed a bottle of red wine and some dumb witch at the grocery store refused to sell it to her.
He said he really didn’t care but the children could not enter the store and to take them out. She started screaming about already regretting moving to this butt-backward state and she was just grabbing a darn bottle of wine whether he liked it or not.
He told her nope, not from his store. That’s when she grabbed a wire rack display of mini bottles and slammed it to the floor. About 100 mini bottles hit the floor, shattering.
That’s when he hit the silent alarm and immediately dispatched the police to the liquor store.
She ended up being arrested for child endangering, theft, vandalism, and destruction of property. The father/her husband could not be reached so DCFS showed to take the children with them.”
17. Sorry Mom, I Don't Think You Deserve A V-Day Gift This Year
“I have a complicated relationship with my mom. I don’t like my mom. She’s said a lot of hurtful things to me ever since I was a child. I’m now in my mid-20s. She blamed me when my dad left us.
She hates it when she’s being corrected and she paints a ‘loving and caring family’ on social media but we’re not like that irl. She always says I’m her pride and joy on social media but she has never said any of those things to me in person.
She often compares me to other people and has called me pretentious for being (genuinely) nice to other people. She calls me a witch in ways without actually using the word and often makes me feel like I’m the worst person in the world.
I guess what makes it complicated is that she’s raised me and my sister on her own ever since I was 13 after my dad left. Even if I have my own stable job she still treats us to lunch & dinner from time to time.
We’ve never been really close though. She’s never apologized after saying mean things and just pretends it never happened. She’s always vocalized how she favored my sister over me in front of other people. She once told me to buy an authentic Louis Vuitton bag for her when I went on a holiday (I’ve never even bought one for myself).
She demanded a cash gift last Christmas, lol. I just let her have it to avoid being guilt-tripped.
She’s been demanding that I get her a gift for Valentine’s Day (as well as for her birthday, actually). She even shows me pictures of gift ideas.
The thing is, deep inside, I really don’t want to get her any this year. I’ve been getting her gifts every year, but I guess after turning 25, I’ve gotten a clearer picture of how she’s treated me and I can’t help but only feel resentment toward her.
Should I just cave in? Am I just having a myopic POV about this?”
Another User Comments:
“Personally, I automatically reject gift demands from everyone, including my own kid. The fact that someone feels entitled to demand anything from me guarantees that they get nothing.
A request is different from a demand, & I will try to accommodate that within reason. Your mom doesn’t sound particularly reasonable, though.
Like, why would you ever get her anything for Valentine’s Day? She’s not your valentine. She’s not your wife.
She’s not your lover. She’s your mom. It’s creepy that she thinks you owe her something on that day of all days. At best, your mom’s gift demands should be confined to three specific days: her birthday, Mother’s Day, & Christmas.” Far_Anteater_256
16. Think You Can Stop Your Adult Daughter From Seeing Whoever She Wants? Let's Ask What The Cop Thinks
“This happened about 5 years ago. My fiance and I have been together for 7 years this month (we’re hoping to get married this year but might postpone due to the circumstances). We were reminiscing some old stories yesterday when this one came up, and she suggested I share it.
She was my partner at the time and at the time I was fully aware that her mom was a few fries short of a happy meal, but this was the pinnacle of her behavior.
My partner Ellie and I weren’t living together at the time, she just stayed over from time to time when she could.
I took her home after she had been staying with me for a couple of days and was heading to work. But shortly after, just before getting to work, I get a phone call from her and I can tell she is in tears.
Apparently, when she got inside, her entitled mom (EM) immediately blew up on her about being gone for SOOO long, even though it was only 2 days and she TOLD EM she was going to be gone and kept in contact with her while she was gone.
But Ellie just sorta brushed it off and went to her room.
EM’s house was pretty much your stereotypical crazy cat lady house. House badly decaying, cats all over the place, going to the bathroom in random places, and whatnot. And when Ellie gets to her room, she realizes while she was gone, the cats peed and crapped all over a pile of her clean clothes.
But whatever, Ellie decided to just bag them up and she would wash them the next time she came to my place (her mom didn’t have a functioning washer at the time)…and apparently, that REALLY set EM off. EM apparently thought Ellie was bagging her clothes because she was planning to go BACK to my place that night and stay another few days.
So she stomped into her room, grabbed the bag, ripped it open, and flung the clothes all over the room along with the cat crap and pee while screaming at Ellie that she’s not going anywhere!
That’s when Ellie ran outside and called me, she was so upset and didn’t know what to do.
Her mom had been doing crazy stuff to Ellie since I’d been with her, but up until I just helped her however I could while not getting involved and not saying a word to her mom. I told her to go ahead and get the things she needs, and I’ll take her to my place.
She said she would love that. I told my work I was gonna be late due to an emergency and turned around to go pick her up.
When I pulled back up to the house, Ellie was in the driveway crying. I went and hugged her, told her it was gonna be ok and that she could stay with me as long as she wanted.
So she went back inside to get her things. As I was standing outside waiting, I heard the door open again and went to help Ellie with her things…uh oh…it’s her mom.
EM comes stomping out with her hair crazy and frizzled, and an old nightgown.
She beelines for me and gets right in my face.
EM (with an extremely thick high pitched southern accent): My daughter said I need to come out here and ask what you think of me! (I knew that was a blatant lie as Ellie would NEVER instigate this).
You got something to say?? Huh?? You think I’m trash don’t you huh?? That’s what you think, isn’t it??
Again, up until now, I’d COMPLETELY kept my mouth shut, and was trying to maintain that. But this woman was up in my face, freaking out, and was tormenting the woman I loved, so I finally looked at her and broke my silence.
OP: Why do you treat her like this?
EM: (GASP) WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? THAT’S MY DAUGHTER AND I WORSHIP THE GROUND SHE WALKS ON!!!
OP: Oh really? So calling her a witch is worship? (Yes, I’ve heard her say this with my own ears.)
EM: (GASP) I WOULD NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT!
OP: (getting rather irate) Bullcrap! I’ve HEARD you say it!
EM: (EXPLOSION) YOU GET YOUR FREAKING BUTT OFF MY PROPERTY!!!!!!!!
Ok, I almost never find myself in situations like this, so I’m not used to it.
I say that because after she said this, I pretty much saw red. I’m not proud of it, but I just started shouting every curse word in the book I could possibly think of at the top of my lungs while she went back in the house.
But thankfully, that only lasted a few seconds and I immediately calmed down.
So finally Ellie comes back out with her stuff, we put it in the car and I assume it’s over…
But Ellie turns to me and says
Ellie: I’m sorry but we can’t leave yet.
OP: Why not?
Ellie: (Sigh) mom called the cops.
I sorta had a feeling that would happen, no big deal. So we just sat and waited for the cop to arrive.
After about 10 minutes or so, a cop car pulls up. Right when he does, EM comes out of the house, and oooh my god.
Yes, she was doing EXACTLY what you think.
She INSTANTLY puts on the fragile brittle old lady act. Hunched over, walking slowly, the whole gig. And of course, when PO asks her what happened, she has to pitch her entire medical chart to the guy.
Ellie will tell you this woman has been terminally ill for 12 years LOL.
So when she finally gets done trying to milk this poor guy for sympathy, she tells her version of what happened.
EM: Sir, he came onto my property and verbally attacked me! He’s awful to me sir and I’ve never even done anything to him! He’s turned my daughter against me and is trying to convince her to leave!!
At first, he seemed somewhat sympathetic to her…until he turns to Ellie.
PO: Ma’am, this is your partner?
Ellie: Yes sir.
PO: Ok, and how old are you?
Ellie: Sir…I’m 23.
This was my favorite part because the officer looked up from his notepad with a look of ‘wait, what?’ Obviously, he was thinking Ellie was a minor or something based on how EM was acting, but quickly realized just what he was dealing with.
Eventually, he turns to me;
PO: Ok sir, please give me your version of what happened.
I did so.
Funny side note, at one point PO looks up at me and says…
PO: You look really familiar…do I know you?
It actually turned out that the PO and I had gone to high school together.
Once we recognized each other, we laughed and shook hands and very briefly. This was hilarious because out of the corner of my eye, I see EM has a big scowl on her face as she sees me getting friendly with PO.
PO puts his notepad away and turns to me. Just FYI, he says the following with this heavy tone of ‘I know that you are fully aware of this and don’t believe you are in the wrong at all, but I have to say this as a formality.’
PO: Well OP, she doesn’t want you on the property, so be aware that if you come back here you technically can be charged with trespassing.
Do you understand this as I’ve explained it?
OP: Absolutely sir.
EM: But sir, I want to press charges!
PO: He didn’t do anything illegal, ma’am.
EM: But he verbally assaulted me!
PO: I understand that, and while that was ill-advised (he slightly turns to me and gives me a small gesture with his hand, and I nod in agreement), it’s not something I could arrest him for.
He agrees he will not come back on your property without your direct permission.
EM: Ugh! Ok fine whatever! Ellie, come back inside!
Ellie: What? No!
EM: You heard PO, OP is leaving and you’re staying here!
PO: Whoa, ma’am, I didn’t say that at all.
PO: Your daughter is not a child ma’am, she is a full-grown adult, and she has every right to go wherever she wants.
EM: I’m her mother! She lives under my roof! I told her she needs to stay here so she needs to stay!!
PO: No ma’am, that’s not how it works.
If she wants to go stay with her partner, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop her.
EM starts the fake crocodile tears and stomps in the house in defeat.
Ellie and I thanked the officer, got in the car, and left…we’ve been living together ever since.”
15. Surprise, Surprise, Your Nonsense Remedies Actually Didn't Help
“Allow me to introduce you to my late mother-in-law. I’ll call her Carol. Though I’ve heard many stories about her, for the most part, I’ll stick with things that I witnessed myself. There are enough of them.
I don’t think Carol ever met a New Age concept that she didn’t like.
Her expressed goal was to synthesize all religion, science, and mysticism into a unified whole. ALL of it. To this end, she amassed a large collection of books and stranger objects from her travels, with an especial focus on ‘healing’. Her library had volumes about ‘vibration’ manipulation, curative trampolining, homeopathic color therapy, and on and on.
(I am not joking or exaggerating here.) Her shelves had lots of admittedly-pretty mineral crystals, along with bottles of Magic Goddess Essence water (evaporated away) and bogus radon protectors ‘powered’ by diagrams of geometric figures.
Her favorite book, based on the number of annotations and sticky notes, was hundreds of pages of word salad about spiritual beings from the star Archturus — that’s ‘Arcturus’ spelled with an ‘h’, because of ‘h-bar’, Planck’s constant from physics.
(Except that Planck’s constant is denoted by ‘h’, and ‘h-bar’ (‘ℏ’) is the REDUCED Planck’s constant. It’s important to get the details right when you’re dealing with spiritual beings!) Her pentagonal home was custom-built around an energy vortex that she discovered in the coastal peaks of British Columbia.
Carol’s parenting was — how shall I put this? — more darkly eccentric. She was awful to her children. She was ashamed that her daughter went into medicine and became a noted specialist, rather than supporting her own ‘non-traditional medical work’.
My wife got the heck out at age 17 and moved across the country to go to university. For most of the time after that, she went relatively low contact.
A decade ago, my wife suffered from a surgical error that resulted in abdominal sepsis and asked me to call her mother.
That made me understand just how deathly serious the situation was: I was to call in the family for what might be the last time. I hadn’t grasped that her life was truly at risk until that point. Nothing less would have induced her to try to get her mother to visit.
To her credit, Carol hurried out, for what was supposed to be a couple of weeks. It was expected that in that time, my wife would be either dead or on the road to recovery. Carol stayed in our home, and at first, things didn’t go too badly.
For the most part, we just didn’t talk about the treatments that my wife was undergoing. Carol did express concern about the antibiotics that were being given, since according to her own views, antibiotics did nothing but harm.
But a couple of weeks stretched into a couple of months, and Carol became harder to live with.
She was angry when I stroked my wife’s hair with my hand because I was ‘blocking the energy from her chakra’. She started blaming me for having somehow caused the nausea that the botched surgery was supposed to cure. I drove her out to pick up a magical concoction of essential oils, on the condition that she check with one of the doctors before applying them.
I pointed out that if the mixture had the power to heal, then it also had the power to cause harm — which Carol denied. When we got back to the hospital, I nabbed one of the residents when we reached my wife’s floor, to ask about that.
Carol became furious about that, and it was clear that she had had no intention of talking with the doctors.
At home, she became more abusive to me. She was claiming that I was abusing my wife by not letting her have her things in the house.
At that point, I lost my temper, the first time I’d yelled at a person in literally a couple of decades. I told her that almost everything in sight was actually her daughter’s, displacing my stuff: the sofas, the piano, tables and chairs, the bookshelves, and the electronics.
The shelves for the CDs and DVDs were mine, but half the contents were hers. Carol wanted to know if I’d be continuing the herbal remedies after she left, and I told her that that was up to my wife. I’d continue them if she wanted, I’d stop them if she preferred.
Carol screamed that I was abusing my wife by following her own wishes rather than her mother’s.
On the night before Carol was finally supposed to be heading out, I was restless. That particular nightmare was about to end, but my wife was still quite ill.
I got to thinking about that essential-oil mixture, which included both oil of cloves and oil of cinnamon. Those are both strongly irritating if left on the skin, and Carol had been painting my wife’s feet with the stuff. (Her feet were, apparently, the correct energy points to draw out the infection.) I went online and found the manufacturer’s instructions, which specified that the oil needed to be significantly diluted with some neutral oil if it was going to be applied to the skin.
Carol hadn’t even been using the stuff properly! Well, that explained why the skin on my wife’s feet was yellow and starting to peel. But Carol was furious when I calmly pointed out the problems that she was creating, out of ignorance.
A few days after Carol left, my wife took a turn for the worse and had to go back into the Intensive Care Unit. And I dreaded the phone call that I had to make, not because of the bad news, but because I anticipated how Carol would react.
And she didn’t disappoint: ‘If you REALLY loved her, you’d put her back onto the herbal oil and stop the antibiotics, you know perfectly well they don’t do a darn lick of good!’ At which point, I hung up. I had other things to worry about.
My wife pulled through, after months in the hospital and three stays in ICU. She’s still in poor health. I told her that I was putting my foot down: under no circumstances was her mother welcome under my roof again. She had grossly abused her privileges as a house guest.
I didn’t care about the family custom that family members were always welcome to stay as guests; I would not stay under the same roof as her mother. Having heard my stories (and based on her own experiences), my wife agreed.
A few years ago, Carol died, much as she had lived. She was diagnosed with metastasized lung cancer. Although she did undergo some real medical therapies, she relied mostly on her quack remedies: pawpaw twig powder, whey protein ‘immune boosters’, and the like — the usual crap that ethics-free swindlers pawn off on desperate sufferers.
She firmly believed that all the little white spots on her lung X-rays were a good sign and that her rapid weight loss indicated that her boosters were draining the cancer away. If there’s some existence after death, I hope she came to appreciate all of the harm that she did in life.
A couple of nights after she passed away, I was driving from the hospital back to the ‘energy vortex’ house. The rental car’s navigation device suggested a shorter route than I’d taken to get there. But that route turned into a back road, into a rough road in the hills, into a track through the forest…
and, in pitch darkness apart from my headlights, over a rocky bump and directly into a tree trunk. Luckily, I was traveling slowly and stopped in time. As I paused, shaken, I got to wondering if there might be something to Carol’s worldview after all and if her vengeful spirit might have possessed the GPS device. Making one last try at killing me.”
14. Think Throwing A Tantrum Will Change The Baby's Gender? Good Luck With That
“So I was invited to a friend’s (we aren’t super close and she literally had to pay for me to attend since I’m out of work currently and she wanted me there) baby shower.
Now to note, Bestie has a very entitled mother and spoiled entitled brother.
Her brother has Autism (diagnosed at 5) and was doted on by EM for his entire life.
Set the stage: you got Bestie and her man getting ready to pop the ballon to reveal the gender of the baby, EM and EB sitting at the nearest table playing loud games and music on their phones not even interested, and the godparents on either side of the parents.
Ballon pops, it’s a baby boy! Everyone shows shocked faces as we all thought girl.
While everyone is congratulating Bestie and her partner, EB suddenly screams.
We are all baffled and look at him confused.
EB: ‘It’s supposed to be a girl! I want a niece!’ He yells at Bestie and Bestie looks hurt.
Random guest: ‘Maybe the next will be a girl!’
EB: ‘No this one has to be a girl! You have to have a girl first!’ He yells and Bestie starts crying, causing EM to stand.
EM: ‘Quit your boohooing Bestie! It’s not the end of the world to say the real gender to make EB happy.
So stop lying and tell us the real gender.’
Bestie: ‘It’s the real gender.’
EB: ‘You’re lying!’ He screams and that’s when Bestie runs into the house in tears. Her aunts and sister ran after her, as did her partner.
I walked to EM and EB and said this:
‘Listen, I get that you wanted a niece first, but there was no reason to upset Bestie over it.
Today was supposed to be an exciting day for her and her man,’ I say and EM scoffs.
EM: ‘She’s lying and we will find out when my granddaughter is born.’
That was it for me.
‘You both need to leave before someone calls the law.’ Then I walked away.”
13. Side With Your Entitled Parents? I Don't Think This Relationship Is Going To Work
“I can finally air my uncensored frustration about the night my engagement was single-handedly corrupted by my entitled mother-in-law. (Let’s call her ‘Ellen’ because she always reminded me of Ellen DeGeneres, even before all this recent news broke.)
Ok, so my girl and I were really engaged to be engaged.
We’d both agreed we wanted to get married, but I hadn’t done the formal proposal yet because we wanted to meet each other’s families first (neither lived nearby.)
I always thought the old trope about meeting the in-laws being a big fiasco was a myth, both because I was younger and more naive then and because I’m lucky to have easy parents.
My partner met them for a few hours. Once we were alone just me and them I told them my intentions and my mom asked, ‘Does she have any kids already?’ And my dad asked, ‘Does she have a good solid job?’ And they both asked, ‘You really love her?’ And that was that, I had their full support for the marriage.
I thought meeting her parents would be the same. Some grilling was to be expected, but as long as I was honest and respectful, it would all be fine.
Relevant fact, they had my girl when they were teenagers, by surprise, so now had a ‘do over daughter’ (their words, not mine!!) who was just six years old.
My partner and I made the trip up to their city and I met them for the first time over dinner at a steak house. It was pretty upscale, and we’d scheduled the dinner for 8:00 pm, so I was surprised to see they’d brought the kid along with them.
I met everyone at once and the initial awkwardness settled once we’d sat down. We were making great small talk when the six-year-old said she was thirsty.
No big deal right? Well, all of a sudden Ellen starts screaming, ‘Water? Water! WATER?!’ A waiter came rushing over to see what the commotion was and, without even making eye contact with the poor guy, Ellen went ‘We’ve been here forever and no one’s even gotten us any water.
My daughter’s been asking.’
We had been sitting for about fifteen or twenty minutes without service, but they were visibly behind, and there were no circumstances that would’ve warranted that shouting.
I should’ve realized from how unfazed everyone else at the table was that I should be bracing myself for a long night, but I couldn’t imagine what was to come at that point.
The waiter rushed over with water and apologized for the delay, explaining a few very large parties had arrived all at once. The guy seemed sincere and quite affable, so I thought the water would just be an anomaly on an otherwise pleasant night.
Then Ellen kicked into full gear.
‘We’ll need a kid’s menu,’ she informed the waiter. He said that they didn’t have a kid’s menu, but that the chef could simplify most dishes. ‘What do you mean you don’t have a kid’s menu?’ Ellen replied in total disbelief, as though he’d said they didn’t have a fire exit.
He explained they didn’t get too many child visitors and that there were enough plain foods on the menu that no separate menu had ever been necessary. Ellen sighed dramatically and waved him away. Literally, without saying a word, waved him off from the table.
I tried to give him an apologetic glance but, understandably, he didn’t look back our way. I was so glad the poor guy left and didn’t have to be subjected to her anymore.
Meanwhile, she turned her attention to me, and I almost wished he’d come back.
At least he was getting paid to be here. She was like, ‘So you’re a screenwriter?’ And I explained, ‘Well, yes and no. I want to be, but it’s hard to get a job in that field that you can support yourself on, so I’m working at a non-profit right now.
There’s a screenwriting component to the job though, so I’m really happy there.’
Ellen turned to her six-year-old and went ‘Hear that, hun? You want to be sure to snag a man who works for profit. Learn from this. It’s not too late for you.’ I couldn’t tell if she was trying to be funny or not.
So, I just let it pass, looking over to my partner to see if she was even considering speaking up on my behalf. Nope.
The waiter came back, visibly nervous. That hurt, because he was so relaxed and personable at the start of the meal.
He asked if we’d like to hear the specials before we ordered and Ellen said sure. Here’s how that went.
Waiter: First we have a lightly seared strip stea—
Waiter: Oh… uh, ok. Then we have a broiled leg of grass-fed—
Waiter: Uh, we, uh, we have a pasta prima vera mixed with—
And on and on until he’d gone through all seven or ten specials, even though she ultimately ordered off the menu, a plain ribeye, well done.
She tried to order her daughter the same, but the kid said she just wanted plain mashed potatoes, so Ellen let her get mashed potatoes alone for dinner. Then… she sent the waiter away! The rest of us hadn’t even ordered yet! And everyone else just sat there like it was entirely normal!
I waited for someone to say something, thinking it was more her older daughter’s (my partner’s) place or her husband’s, but when no one did I couldn’t help myself.
‘I, uh, was the one steak and potatoes going to be for all of us, or?’ My partner explained, in the tone you’d use for a tourist violating a sacred local taboo, ‘My mom always has the waiter put the kid’s food in first, so it can get started right away.
We’ll order once the kitchen has hers.’
I thought she was joking since Ellen didn’t just order her kid’s food, she also ordered her own dinner too. So I laughed. ‘Something funny?’ Ellen asked. Then I realized she was serious, and I shut up.
Thankfully her dad at least recognized that what was normal for them might not be as regular to me and tried to lighten the mood with a change of topic. But not even ten minutes after we’d ordered (I guess technically five minutes after we’d ordered, ten minutes after she and her daughter had ordered,) Ellen started in again.
Another table, that had been there long before we were, got a side order of mashed potatoes with their meal. Ellen threw a total conniption. She was sputtering so inaudibly that none of us could figure out what was wrong at first.
Finally, she managed to flag down some busboy who barely spoke English and began laying into him like he’d just side-swiped her on the freeway. He kept trying to explain he wasn’t a server and that he could go get one, but she wouldn’t stop to breathe long enough for him to find someone who could actually help.
All the while I kept looking at my partner for signs of embarrassment, or at the very least irritation, but you wouldn’t have known if she was even hearing any of this.
Our waiter came over, somehow still feigning a smile despite knowing what he was walking into, and Ellen actually goes ‘Why did that table get mashed potatoes and ours haven’t come yet?’
The waiter kindly but concisely explained, ‘Well Ma’am, those people ordered potatoes before your party had placed their order.’ Ellen looks this man dead in the eye (finally) and says, ‘Well it doesn’t matter when they ordered it.
My daughter is the youngest one here! Her food should come out first.’
You could tell the waiter was working hard to restrain himself at this point. He explained it was a first come, first served, policy and age didn’t help one way or the other.
He offered to go check on the potatoes, Ellen agreed, or more specifically she said, ‘Yah, you better!’ but I was clocking him and he went right back to his server station (because we had only just ordered a few minutes ago!)
Three or five more minutes passed, during which we could have no other discussion at the table except how awful this restaurant was, how hungry the poor baby was (who hadn’t said a word about being hungry this whole time and was contently playing her loud iPad game, without headphones, disturbing all the other diners around us), and how America has lost all respect for motherhood because it’s just a ‘me, me, me’ culture now.
I chimed in, ‘I’m with you on that last part.’ And to my utter shock, instead of laughing at my joke, my partner seemed annoyed with me!
So after a few minutes, the waiter comes back and says the potatoes will be out very soon.
Ellen then goes and does something that, again, I thought was just a myth.
She took three singles and a five out of her wallet and put them on the table in full view of the waiter. Then she took one single away and said ‘Every table I see getting potatoes before us is a bill gone.’
I was absolutely mortified.
The waiter, to his unending credit, just took a deep breath and said ‘I don’t have control over the order in which the kitchen fires tickets, but what I can tell you is it should be out any minute.’ And left without saying anything disparaging.
I had been holding my tongue all night as well, in the name of my relationship, but once the tip hit the table (the $8 tip for a $100+ bill, on top of all else) I figured if my partner was half the woman I thought she was then she wouldn’t mind my speaking up at this point.
If anything, she’d be supportive, right?
So I scooted my chair back a bit and said, ‘Listen I know what you’re doing with the cash on the table, but that kind of thing makes me really uncomfortable, and it’s just not called for.
Please put the money away or we can just continue this some other time.’
My partner’s dad spits back, ‘What? How cheap do you have to be to not believe in tipping service workers?’ Before I could process whether he was serious or yanking my chain, Ellen shocked me with, ‘No, you know what, you’re right, this isn’t necessary.’
I should’ve known better than to be relieved.
She folded the bills back into her wallet, patiently waited for the next plate of mashed potatoes to be carried out, and when it wasn’t delivered to us, (it was a very common side dish at this place, a steak house,) she went right up to a stranger’s table and picked it up off their table.
She half explained something about her daughter ‘starving to death,’ as she was walking away with the stranger’s food, but unsurprisingly, that wasn’t convincing enough for them. The old lady she took it from followed her right over to our table and tried to take it back.
I was already searching for my coat tag in preparation to go, but a shoving match was beginning to unfold between Ellen and an elderly woman with a tennis ball walker, and far be it from me to sit through all that had happened only to leave just as the night was getting interesting.
The elderly woman was like ‘Give me back my potatoes!! Who are you??’ And the poor little girl was like, ‘Mommy, it’s ok, don’t take someone else’s potatoes…’
But it all fell on deaf ears. Ellen yelled at the old lady, ‘How could you sit there and eat these when my daughter hasn’t even been served yet? She’s sitting here hungry, just a little girl, and you’re over there stuffing your face? Come on, other potatoes will be out any minute.’
And the old lady, got to love her, was like, ‘Great, if they’ll be out any minute, then what’s the freaking problem?!’ To which Ellen still found holier than thou ground, gasping, ‘Language, please!’
Finally the waiter, and this time someone higher up as well, I think the manager, thank God, came over to separate them, as they had begun to raise their voices and cause a disturbance.
Staff had already asked Ellen to turn down her daughter’s iPad multiple times without heed, and I’m guessing the waiter informed management about the ‘tip on the table,’ stunt she pulled because this was their final straw. They told us we were going to have to leave the restaurant.
‘But we don’t even have our food yet!’ Ellen complained at the guy. This was clearly not the manager’s first rodeo. ‘You can take the food that’s already been served free of charge, everything else will be canceled. Please leave immediately.’
The old lady didn’t miss her chance to knock the potatoes right onto the floor so we couldn’t try to take them with us.
Nothing else had been served yet, so, we had to leave without any food.
When my partner and I were finally alone in our car she said ‘Can you believe that?’ And I said, ‘Not at all. And I really can’t believe you didn’t warn me!’ And she went, ‘How could I have known about any of that?’ And, confused, I asked, ‘Is she not usually like that?’ Even more confused than me, my partner asked, ‘Who?’ ‘Your Mom!’ ‘What’s my Mom got to do with the terrible service at that place?’
That was the beginning of the end of our relationship.
The fact that she didn’t see anything wrong with her mom’s behavior, and that I’d be marrying into that situation, shook me too deep.
We both dodged a bullet in more ways than one. In hindsight, we weren’t right for each other, regardless of who her family was.
Her mom saved us both a lot of time and heartache, helping me realize in one night what would’ve probably taken us years otherwise. Within a month we’d moved into separate apartments and gone on a ‘break,’ that ended up lasting forever.
I’m not sorry I won’t see you again, Ellen. I am sorry any waitstaff ever will, though.”
12. No Ma'am, We Can't Allow You To Bring A Deadly Allergen In Here
“I was a preschool assistant teacher and enjoyed many of the kids. Three of the kids in our room had peanut allergies. One kid can just sense a peanut and get instantly red. So as you walk into the room you will see a big X on peanuts and other deadly allergies the other children have.
One mom was late bringing her son into class. She was rushing him through the door with his breakfast when I noticed his breakfast contained peanuts. I asked the mom if she can take the peanuts back home and I would sit outside the classroom with her son to finish the rest of his breakfast.
She looks up at me with so much rage.
‘Why!?’ she asks. I let her know that there are children in our classroom with horrible peanut allergies and we do not allow any peanuts past this door.
‘So he can’t eat, because of these kids!?’ No, he can still eat just not peanuts.
‘So we have to move our lives around for someone else’s child!?’
I then just responded he just couldn’t have any peanuts past this door.
She then sat with him outside our classroom for him to finish his breakfast. She was calling I assumed her husband to let her know how disrespectful I was to her and then started crying. She went to my boss to let her know I told her that her son wasn’t allowed breakfast. After watching the tapes with my boss I was cleared to go back to my classroom.”
11. Woman Gets Her Son To Steal My Cane Because She Doesn't Believe I'm Blind
Some people are just cruel.
“So a bit of backstory, I am a 28-year-old woman who just recently went fully blind. When I was a teenager, I volunteered with my local youth group to help rebuild Mississippi after hurricane Katrina, and while down there I picked up a fungal parasite called Histoplasmosis that over a decade migrated to my eyes and slowly caused blindness.
I’ve been totally blind for about a year now, so I’m pretty new to it, but I digress.
When I first went blind, I barely left the house and was afraid to go in public. I felt like everyone was staring at me and in all honesty, I barely knew what I was doing, the transition had been difficult and I didn’t have any support group to teach me.
One day my husband asks if I can take an Uber down to the bank and deposit a rent check and I reluctantly agree. While out, he messages again and reminds me that we’re out of a few crucial groceries. There was a Walmart grocery literally across the street from the bank, so I figure everything in life is an experience and I’ll have to learn how to shop alone eventually so why not.
Everything was fine at first and I was only grabbing a few things so I didn’t need a cart. I was using my cane and what little echolocation skills I had at the time to get around, but was still bumping into things as we blind tend to do sometimes.
My cane suddenly hit something a bit softer and I figure maybe I had whacked someone’s leg and apologized. Cue Entitled Kid (EK) and Entitled Mother (EM).
Me: Shoot, I’m sorry–
EM: Hey! You just hit my son!!
Me: I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t see him there.
EM begins yelling: HOW COULD YOU NOT SEE HIM, HE’S CLEARLY RIGHT HERE!!
Now I’m fully blind, but I don’t wear sunglasses. Mostly because I can’t afford a good UV blocking pair, but also I’m not ever looking for pity or to ‘play the part’ of a generic blind person.
I just want to be treated like a normal person, but I do understand her confusion as blindness is a spectrum, so I try to calmly explain.
Me: Ma’am, I’m blind, I can’t see anything, let alone your son. That’s why I have to use the cane, so I can get around without–
She cuts me off: If you’re blind, why aren’t you wearing big sunglasses?
Now, as a blind person, I get a lot of stupid questions, but I understand a lot of them are just people who don’t know better so I try to happily answer as many as I can.
Me: Those are really expensive (around $200 for a good pair), and I really don’t need any inside.
EM: You’re not blind, you’re faking it!
Here is where my blood starts to boil. I can’t think of any reason someone would want to pretend to be blind, it’s actual heck, and nothing ticks me off more than when someone calls me a liar when I’m not.
Just as I’m about to respond, I feel a tug and before I blink I realize this little demon spawn has snatched my $100 cane from my hands. For those of you who don’t understand, that’s like if you’re shopping and suddenly the power goes out and you can’t see a single light.
Without my cane, I can barely move at all without crashing into anything.
My voice gets shaky as I begin to panic: Please give that back! I REALLY DO NEED IT!!
EM: No you don’t you liar. My son deserves to play with this more than you!
I hear her shuffle away and my expensive cane cracking into metal displays and such as they leave.
I start crying and waving my arms in front of me to grab onto something, anything, and end up crashing and falling into a center aisle display, making a loud scene.
Without fail, I somewhat curl into a ball and cry. I’m alone in public, in the dark, and I had no idea what to do.
Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and a man’s voice (we’ll call him AG for awesome guy) asks if I’m okay and to stay right here. I do, but begin to at least sit up and listen. This man must have been tall and built like a tank because his footsteps sounded like a giant and I felt a suction of wind when he took off.
Maybe about 30 or 40 feet away I hear this loud bellowing like an angry lion and a loud crash, then before I know it the man is back and helping me to my feet. He takes my hand and puts my cane into my palm and helps me pick up the items I dropped when I fell into the display.
Me wiping tears from my cheeks: Thank you, thank you so much I didn’t know how to handle that.
AG: Don’t worry about it, some people are just monsters.
This guy restored my faith in humanity and even helped me finish shopping and helped me out of the store.
As we’re leaving, I can hear the familiar screeching of EM, something about AG grabbing the cane and pulling hard, flinging her little devil child into a shopping cart. I don’t know if she was exaggerating or not but it would explain the crash I heard.
It’s easy to feel alone in a world without sight, but even through the sheer terror of being stripped of my cane, at least I know now that there are people willing to stand up for me when I need it.”
10. Dad Thinks He Can Get Free Labor Out Of Me Just Cause We're Family
And this is why going into business with family isn’t the best idea.
“Years ago after the housing crash in 08, my dad began hauling mobile homes. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly as they’re cheaper than normal houses, this industry actually picked up pretty good and he was extremely busy.
I had just gotten out of the military and had a new wife and child to look out for and was having trouble finding a job. My dad asked me if I wanted to drive a pilot truck for him, if you’ve ever seen an oversized load on the freeway with a car or truck in front or behind them with flashing amber lights, that’s a pilot truck.
Private pilot car/truck services cost $1.xx a mile at the time, more depending on the difficulty of the route/parking job. My dad wanted it done cheaper, obviously as anyone would so we came up with an agreement that he would finance a truck for me to use to pilot for him permanently.
The truck payment would come out of my pay and I keep the truck full-time to use however I want outside of scheduled work. The work schedule fluctuated enough to where I couldn’t work another job but we were doing at least 4 loads a week, and sometimes as many as 7.
My dad would make 1-1.3k on average per load, after you take away all his costs he was bringing home on the slow months 9kish and on good months 15kish give or take.
In theory, all was supposed to be smooth, we agreed on a flat rate of 3k per month.
Which isn’t all that bad for the time, he was covering the truck payment and all the fuel for the loads for my truck. I had to make sure I replaced any fuel I used for personal use, which was all more than fair to me.
My wife was working at the time so our dual income combined would set us up well, with a second vehicle that was essentially free.
Well lo and behold it takes about a month for it all to go to crap, I’m working about 4-7 days a week and it’s more than what we agreed to.
A private pilot driver normally shows up when the house is prepped to haul and they drive you to the destination and collect their payment and leave. Now obviously you have some who go above and beyond and do extra.
I’m prepping the houses to haul while my dad sits in his truck, I won’t get into details but ideal houses can get done in 20 minutes or less, but pain in the butt houses in bad lots, too close to other houses can take an hour + of pretty physical labor.
I’m also staying once we get to the destination and helping park the houses, which can include moving debris and dealing with other homeowners, people tend to come out and watch and get real antsy when you’re trying to maneuver a house near their cars/house/property.
None of this extra stuff was discussed when we agreed to this but my mom called me more than a few times to make sure ‘dad isn’t doing too much physical work since he’s doing me a favor and giving me a free truck.’
Major contention point #1: my mom called me every couple of days telling me to bring the truck by so she could go get hay and feed for her horses.
Not asking. I did this the first couple of times just because she’s my mom. She wouldn’t clean the truck bed out, which when I brought it up to her she would brush off with ‘it’s a truck, what do you expect?’ So I stopped bringing it after that.
We got into this huge argument and she gave me the ultimatum of bringing the truck or she’s reporting it stolen. I don’t engage, I call my dad and ask him if it’s in mom’s name, no? Ok, dad and I have the exact same name so no biggie.
Major contention point #2: The pay. All the stuff we agreed upon, never happens. I was paid my first two loads about $600 in cash. That’s great, I work the rest of the month and my dad starts giving me excuses about things wrong with his truck and needing repairs.
Ok? But his truck is never in the shop and we’re still running every day. We get to the end of month 2 and I still have only made the $600. So based on the agreement I’m owed $5400 (or in the neighborhood).
So it’s all about to come to a head and I’m too stupid to realize it. I go to my parents’ house one weekend we’re not working to talk to my dad. At this point the amount owed and time worked is putting a major straying on my marriage.
My dad and I start talking and I’m getting really annoyed as he’s clearly doing everything in his power to not talk about work. Finally, I just blurt out that I need to be paid, I haven’t gotten anything since the $600 for the first two loads.
I didn’t realize it at the time but my mom has been eavesdropping from their bedroom and storms out immediately screaming about how ungrateful I am and I’m taking advantage of them, I don’t let her use the truck that she needs when I can just use my car.
Mind you, my mom has had a truck this entire time. A 2002 F-250, but my dad bought a 2009 Toyota Tundra for the business (my truck). She starts going off about how I made my dad late to a pickup once, I got a flat on the way there and my dad didn’t prep the house at all while waiting for me.
So she’s going off this whole time while I’m staring at my dad, who’s avoiding eye contact. Finally, after she tells me to get out of the house and leave her truck, I just ask him if he’s going to pay me.
He looks me dead in the face and says ‘I think I’ve been more than fair.’ And leaves the room.
So I leave, in the truck and my mom blows up my phone the entire drive home with calls and texts. Once I get home I start reading them, I kid you not these are some of the gems:
‘You disrespectful little witch.’
‘Don’t ever come to my freaking house again.’
‘I hope you and your witch wife rot in heck.’
‘You’ll never get a freaking dime.’
Wow, so needless to say I’m done.
I enroll in community college with VA benefits.
Two weeks go by and dad texts me: ‘I need you at (factory name) at 5 am.’
The next day dad and mom: ‘We need the truck back so we can have your sister drive it for dad.’
Two weeks later while at the movies the truck is repossessed, later find out that there was never a payment made outside the down payment.
This ruined my relationship with all of them. My dad passed last year without us ever resolving anything.”
9. Now You Want To Accept Our Offer? Sorry, You Just Blew Your Daughter's Chance At Getting This Job
“Context: I work in a small-sized company. With the number of clients increasing, we decided to hire an additional team member in an entry-level position to help us. The mandatory requirement for it is fluency in a specific foreign language.
There was this candidate, we’ll call her Abby.
She graduated from university a year ago already but has no work experience, no internships, and no extracurricular activities during university. She was, however, quite good academically. During the interview, it is pretty obvious she is a bit sheltered. But out of all the other candidates, she is the most suitable one for our team’s current needs.
We were worried about her ability to coordinate/communicate within the team and some other social skills, but we figured we’d give her a chance and see because her language ability is what we’re after anyway.
Here is where the Entitled Mother comes in.
We called Abby in for a second interview and my supervisor asked our HR to offer her the job. On the phone, when HR mentioned her salary, Abby paused for a moment, then suddenly the EM took over the phone and asked to speak instead.
The EM was complaining about why our company’s salary offer was less than other companies. She complained that her daughter deserves more, that others would give more for her language ability, do you know what is the standard salary for someone like her, no law firms would offer her this rate, it should be this this and that…
(disclaimer: we’re not law firms, we’re business consultancy). Our HR told us that, the EM sounds like a fake ‘posh’, like those entitled mothers who try hard to brag to other people how rich/successful they are. At the end of the conversation, the EM just said ‘let us think about it, we’ll call back next week, my daughter has other places to consider’ or something along this line.
My supervisor decided to cancel the offer. Honestly, if we actually hire Abby, there could be more problems with her mother in the future. We were all pretty dumbfounded by this interaction and particularly, this EM. I was a bit bummed out because we were actually quite excited to have Abby on our team.
Now I did not know exactly how much was offered by my supervisor, but my company offers a pretty competitive salary for our location (outside of the major city) with good benefits and a solid raise & bonus policy. I just don’t know how much EM was expecting.
Her daughter didn’t even do that well during the interview. We were very lenient because she has absolutely no experience and never even mentioned any transferable skills at all.
Just one day after the phone conversation, the EM calls our HR back!!!! And guess what the EM said? ‘Well, you know, your company’s offer seems reasonable…
We’ll accept it!’ It’s not even the daughter that calls back!!! My colleague and I are just laughing at this point. Well, our HR said she’ll check with my supervisor. My supervisor is just ‘yeah, no, I’m not having it, just no.’ Talk about sabotaging your daughter’s chances.
I am quite sympathetic toward Abby. The position would suit her interest on the academic side, and it’s even a very good chance for her to learn and grow in joining the workforce. Unbelievably, EM has to interfere and ruin her chances.
I doubt other companies (or law firms) would accept Abby, at least not soon. Most employers in the field (that EM seemed to be looking for Abby) are brutal during interviews, even for entry-level. I doubt EM cares though, they are well off looking at the university Abby goes to.”
8. Yell At Me For Blasting Music? How About You Take A Look In The Mirror You Hypocrite
“I live in this one-bedroom apartment with my partner on the first floor and while the parking is absolutely horrid and the landlord takes eons to respond to anything except money issues, it’s not a bad place. All my neighbors are friendly and we rarely have noise complaints.
Until Entitled Mother moved in a month ago and it’s quite a change. I lost my job so I’ve been stuck at home looking for a new one and this lady has 2 kids below 10 I believe who aren’t in school yet so I hear EVERYTHING.
These walls aren’t thick and she lives above us.
Now she and her baby daddy are major Leg/Neckbeards. Both obese and messy greasy hair and just always wearing anime shirts. Their white cube of a car has anime girls allllll over it and they blast anime music almost 24/7 with children noises mixed in.
That’s only on weekends tho, weekdays EM blasts Teletubbies all day and it’s the same two episodes because she’s played it so much and so loud that I practically memorized it. It’s torture.
People have complained but the landlord doesn’t respond ever unless it involves money so we’ve had no help there.
She also lets her kids run INTO people’s front porches and do whatever. Everyone has a tiny gated front porch and it’s an unspoken rule not to go onto the porch unless you want to talk to the person in the apartment.
EM doesn’t care, she lets her goblins run everywhere, in the street, up and down the stairs, and into people’s porches breaking crap. People have complained but she ignored them by saying ‘I’m stuck with them all day, this tires them out so I can have peace for once, help a poor mom out’ ignoring the fact one woman has 5 kids and yet keeps them in line.
Now unto last Sunday night. My partner and I were playing super smash brothers and just having a grand ol time, laughing and giggling like a bunch of fools and yes we did get a bit loud but we figured EM’s naruto music would drown it out.
One match I did a dumb and accidentally fell off the side of the stage and died and I did a quick yell of frustration. We then hear what sounded like angry talking upstairs then the music goes silent. My partner and I look at each other in confusion then we hear a knock at our door.
I get up to answer while my partner takes the moment to go to the bathroom (Taco Bell was finally hitting him) and lo and behold it’s EM. This is the first time I’ve ever come face to face with her so I’m a bit taken aback and she does not look happy.
I’m a sarcastic jerk only to friends and family but I was a bit wasted when this happened so I blame that for my rather snarky attitude. I remember a good chunk but obviously not word for word.
Me: Hi can I help you?
EM: yes can you please be quiet? You’re making so much noise that it’s hard for any of us to hear anything and you’re waking my kids.
Me: um I’m sorry, I just assumed with the loud music you were playing that it wouldn’t bother you.
She scowls at this statement and puts her hands in fists to her side in an exaggerated angry stance (all my anime fans should know this stance, yes she did do this for real I wish I took a picture) and puffs her cheeks.
EM: Seriously? You complain about our music when every day you always play that bullcrap jazz crap??
Of course this confuses the heck out of me and I stare at her with said confusion.
EM: oh don’t play dumb, you always play that crappy music so loud none of my kids ever get sleep so I have to blast my music to drown out your crap so they can get some rest!
I’m staring at her trying to comprehend before I realize she’s talking about my elderly neighbor next door who plays his favorite jazz music on the weekends and never at night.
And it’s not close to being loud. I only hear it because the walls are paper thin and I live right next door and even then it’s barely audible.
Me: um I think you’re confusing me for my next-door neighbor, he’s the one that plays jazz, and even then he never does it nights.
Maybe talk to him tomorrow?
EM doesn’t like this and stomps her foot
EM: Stop lying! I know it’s you playing that crap and I want you to stop! If you don’t I’ll call the landlord on you!
I just laugh at this which ticks her off more.
Me: look, I’m not the one playing the music and frankly even if I was, I wouldn’t be able to hear it over the anime crap you blast every night so if you have a problem, talk to the landlord.
I try to close the door but she puts her hand and foot down so I can’t close and she goes off on how much of a witch I am and how dare I do this to a mother yadda yadda.
Then she sees the tv and us playing smash.
She then proceeds to try to force herself in and I quickly try to push her back.
Me: what the heck do you think you’re doing!?
EM: Give me that switch! You keep my kids up all night with your crap music and you’ve been extremely rude to me so I’ll give them that switch as compensation!
FINALLY, my partner gets out of the bathroom, sees me fighting EM to close the door (he heard everything but sadly couldn’t leave the toilet) runs over, screams at her to get the heck out or he’ll call the cops, and pushes her back to where we can close and lock the door.
She spends the next 10 minutes screaming and banging on our door before finally giving up and leaving after my jazzy neighbor comes out and yells at her to leave to which she finally does.
My partner and I stay by the door for a good 20 minutes before we decide enough for tonight and sleep. I believe EM turned her music up louder. The next morning we emailed the landlord and are hoping for the best.
She’s giving me death stares since but I rarely go outside anymore so it’s very rare.”
7. Want To Speak To The Manager? Okay, But They Won't Side With You
“I work at a petrol station in England, it’s a tiny shop and due to that fact we aren’t classed as a service station, our only toilet is for staff only. Another reason for it being staff-only is we stack all of our soft drinks in the little hallway that leads to the toilet, which is a health and safety issue for customers.
Sometimes for little kids, we let this rule slide if there’s hardly anything in that hallway, but on the day in question we’d had an early ambient delivery and so the hallway was full of soft drinks all stacked up. Enter Entitled Parent who walks up to my colleague who’s working tills.
EP: excuse me, my daughter and I have been driving for hours and she desperately needs the bathroom.
Colleague: (calling me over as I was in charge of the shift despite the manager being in the office) this lady says that her daughter needs the bathroom, would that be ok?
Me: unfortunately miss, it is staff only and we recently had a delivery, and there’s quite a lot of stock out there that just wouldn’t be safe for your little one, however, there is a pizza place less than a minute’s drive from here that does have a customer toilet!
You can actually see the building from our shop so I pointed it out to her, but she just scoffed at me and looked at my colleague.
EP: look we’ll be super careful, she’s desperate to go!
(This kid was looking at the magazines not paying attention or seeming desperate at all to go.)
Colleague: sorry but OP said no, and she is the one in charge at the moment, but like she said the pizza place across the road has a toilet.
At this point EP just huffs and mutters about buying a drink and walks off, so I think that the end of it…. oh I was so wrong
About 10 minutes go by, I had sat in the office to do paperwork, and all of a sudden the sound of drinks falling over causes me to jump out of my seat, and then a kid screaming bloody murder.
My colleague is stuck on till and my manager had not long left to go to another store as he was stepping in while their manager was away, so I rush out to see what the heck was going on when I see EP holding her kid as they walk out from behind the STAFF ONLY door that leads to the staff toilet.
EP: MY DAUGHTER ALMOST GOT CRUSHED BY THOSE FREAKING BOTTLES, SHE’S HURT HER LEG, WHERE’S THE MANAGER? I’M SUING THE LOT OF YOU.
Now at this point, I was completely shocked, most of our customers are regulars so we rarely see this type of crappy behavior, but I composed myself.
Me: miss I did warn you that it wasn’t safe for your daughter, the manager is currently out and I’m acting as manager in his place as I’m running the shift.
EP: I DON’T FREAKING CARE!
At this point, the other customers are staring at her, and her kid has already calmed down significantly so she lowers her voice.
EP: I’ll be speaking to your head office! You should be fired for allowing people in there when it’s so dangerous.
Me: (incredibly annoyed at this point, and when I’m annoyed I’m extremely blunt) actually, I said NO to you using the toilet as it wasn’t safe, and we have CCTV that can confirm that, so all head office will do is look at CCTV regarding the incident, see that I told you NOT to go in there and then see you sneaking in, which is trespassing as it CLEARLY states staff only on the door, and dismiss your complaint.
You’re lucky that I don’t file a report for trespassing and damages to stock (a lot of the drinks that had been toppled were cans, and most of them had split open or were damaged in ways that meant we couldn’t sell them).
EP: we’ll see about that! I’m still going to talk to the manager, I want you fired for your crappy attitude!
I just think, whatever, and she leaves… until about an hour later. Now by this point, my manager had returned and I warned him about the EP and what had happened, filed an incident report, and cleaned up the mess the kid had made, wasting out the damaged drinks.
My colleague peeks her head into the office.
Colleague: that woman is back, she’s demanding to speak to the manager.
The manager and I look at each other annoyed and walk out of the office, as soon as EP sees us she goes OFF.
EP: I want that witch fired!! She was rude as heck to me and put my daughter in danger!!
(I’m going to say now that my manager does not mince words or mess around, he’s blunt as heck and straight to the point.)
Manager: I was told of the situation already, I checked CCTV, and as far as I’m concerned the only one in the wrong is you miss.
EP: what?! But…
Manager: No buts! I saw everything, OP was very patient with you, had it been me you spoke to like that you would have been told to get the heck out of my shop and to not come back.
You were told no, you didn’t listen and so your kid got hurt. That’s on you and no one else! I have already called head office in regards to this matter and have burned the relevant CCTV ready for collection, so go ahead and complain, see what good that does.
EP at this point is completely red in the face, she looks like she’s gonna burst into flames and I actually step a bit away in fear she’ll lash out.
EP: oh you bet I’m complaining! I’ll get you and that fat witch fired! (Why do they always attack me with the fact I’m overweight, it’s not even a lot.) This is a freaking outrage and I’ll sue the lot of you!!
Manager: get out before I phone the cops for harassment and don’t ever come back, I will be filing for a form to officially bar you from this store.
EP went to continue arguing but my manager grabbed the store phone and she quickly shut up and left, its been 3 months or so since this incident, and surprise, no complaint was made and no lawsuit either, I have so many EP stories just from this job alone”
6. Mom Delays A Flight Because She Refuses To Leave With Her Sick Kid
“I (21 M) had come on holiday with my mum and older sister (24 F) as a last-minute substitution. On the way back, my mum got a connecting flight back home in the morning because we couldn’t get 3 seats on the same flight.
My sister and I are due to fly back in the evening via EasyJet. Now, EasyJet had been canceling a lot of flights at the time. After waiting for hours at the airport for a flight that was at first delayed, we are all told the devastating news…our flight had been canceled.
Apparently, the pilot had been overbooked on flying hours and was legally not allowed to fly the plane…and they had known this for HOURS, and instead of conveying that message to us, the message somehow got lost along the way as our flight got listed as being more and more delayed.
Needless to say, we were all FURIOUS that this had happened. After much confusion from the airport staff about whether or not there would be a recovery flight (first they said they PROMISED they would fly us back the next day, then they said they wouldn’t and we would all have to book a new flight back, with the next flight not being for a few days), we finally learn there WOULD be one, and fortunately, it would be the very next day.
We are all shoveled into various halfway houses for the night, which takes until 5 am to sort out btw and return to the airport the next afternoon tired and in a bad mood.
Now here comes the entitled mother. While we are waiting in line to board the plane, my sister talks to a few of the people waiting to be boarded.
One of them is a couple and their son. They mention their son had been very ill for the past couple of days (and almost certainly wouldn’t be allowed on the plane if the staff knew his condition), but that they were hoping they could basically sneak him on the plane without anyone noticing.
Questionable, for sure, but not super entitled yet.
Anyway, we board the plane, and I kid you not, while passengers are still BEING BOARDED, the kid throws up on the floor of the plane. The crew has to clean up the vomit and then explain to the kid’s parents they cannot allow him to fly in this condition for safety reasons.
Meanwhile, the pilot is informing everyone that we need to get the plane boarded quickly because we only have a short window with air traffic control to take off, due to it being an unscheduled flight.
UNFORTUNATELY…the mother does NOT take the news well at all.
She flips out at the flight crew, furious that they are telling her they cannot fly today. All of the rest of us are growing increasingly agitated at this point because we know what is at stake, and we, unlike the entitled mum, actually have the capacity to understand why the kid can’t be allowed to fly.
The EM goes ON AND ON AND ON about her anger and indignation about this as if the flight crew can somehow magically change the rules because some random mum tried to smuggle a very sick child onto a plane. This goes on for so long that we all hear the announcement we had been dreading…the pilot informs us that we have missed our slot with air traffic control…
At this point, everyone’s hearts collectively sank, and we are worried that our flight will be canceled YET AGAIN. Meanwhile, the EM finally comes to her senses and gets off the plane. After some very tense waiting, we then get an announcement from the pilot: he has somehow managed to get yet another slot with air traffic control, in 50 minutes.
So, in short, due to this mother’s stubbornness, a flight almost got canceled for a second time and ended up being delayed by over an hour total, while all of us are angry, fed up, and tired. Not the worst story ever, but you really had to be there to feel the anger and hatred we all felt towards this woman.”
5. Oh So My Horse Never Actually Belonged To Me? Understood
“When I was 10 years old my parents literally gave me a horse for Christmas.
She was a purebred Arabian mare named Jess. My mom was a riding instructor who already owned her own horse and I’d grown up with them, so this wasn’t quite as crazy as it sounds.
By the age of 10, I was a good enough rider to go galloping across the prairies with my mom and her horse friends.
A few years later we moved to a rural property where we could keep my mom’s horse Harry, and Jess.
I loved Jess so, so much! For the first couple of years, we didn’t have water in our barn so one of my chores was hauling huge, heavy buckets of water from the sink in the house all winter. I cleaned the stall, I helped build and repair fences, I drove the tractor to mow the pasture… all stuff a normal 12-year-old kid does.
Here’s where the entitlement comes in. You see, the horse was never about me. It was about my mom. She needed Jess to keep Harry company and to teach riding lessons.
All through my teen years my mom and dad threatened me with selling Jess.
If I got a bad grade, they’d sell the horse. If I went to a bad party, they’d sell the horse. If I stepped a toe out of line in any way at all, they’d sell the horse. I was a perfect kid with perfect grades who never even kissed a boy or had a drink or smoked anything at all because of my fear that I’d wake up one day and my horse would be gone.
If I ever complained about anything they told me ‘shut up and be grateful, you have a horse.’
Well, my parents hit some hard times financially and they decided to spend the money they’d invested in my college fund on maintaining their lifestyle.
They told me I’d be on my own for school. I graduated high school early and got a job to save up, but it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t qualify for government student loans because my parents made too much money.
And I had developed a severe, life-threatening allergy to horses!
After doing chores in the barn or brushing Jess or going for a ride I would sneeze and cough for 2 hours unless I took the maximum possible dose of Benedryl.
One time I got horse sweat in my eye and it swelled shut in seconds. I now carried an epi-pen but my parents still made me do barn chores. My allergies to horses were life-threatening and my parents knew this.
Finally, Harry died and Jess was all alone.
Horses are herd animals and it was cruel. I told my mom I needed to finally sell Jess. It was better for her, and I desperately needed the money for school.
My mom said no.
After all those years of threats, my horse was never mine after all.
I got a bank loan for school, but after this and many other stories I no longer speak to my parents.”
4. Thanks For The Christmas Gift, But I Really Don't Want To Spend My Entire Holiday Hanging Out With You
“Husband (37) and I (30F) live a 9-hour drive away from MIL. No kids.
For Christmas, without checking with us first, she bought us a hotel from Tuesday-Thursday during a random week in the summer.
She told us it was a trip for us ‘love birds’ to do whatever we want (…sure, Jan).
I started a new job last summer and don’t have paid vacation for a year (government). I also have to have someone watch our two dogs while we’re away. We are also responsible for paying for our flights as well.
So it’s a big hit financially for a vacation we didn’t want in the first place.
Anyway, my husband and I were doing some planning for what we are wanting to do (I have family in the area and my husband has other family as well). MIL finds out and tells us we need to spend the whole trip with her.
We were planning on spending all of Wednesday with her. But then she goes on a guilt trip about how we never see her. For the record, we saw her last summer and at Christmas.
Anyway, she wants to spend Wednesday and Thursday with us and is now saying the trip was for her to spend time with us (no crap).
But we fly in Tuesday night and fly out Friday morning (only flights available). Which means I won’t be able to see my family unless I extend our trip (and expenses).
I got 10 text messages at midnight (11 pm her time) last night about why we need to focus on her for the trip.
She has surgery (not while we’re there but later in the summer for a shoulder injury), she doesn’t get time off besides this (I don’t even have this time off), she can’t travel, etc. Her tone was rude and she’s never talked to me like that before.
Today she told my husband she wants to sell her house so she can contribute to a down payment on a home we’re saving for. We said we don’t want to talk about that until after the summer.
How do we put an end to the ‘generosity’ that is actually leverage to control our behavior? Is there a way to gently shut this down?
She doesn’t listen and isn’t interested in our opinions or perspective and doesn’t respect boundaries.
lol pls help me.”
Another User Comments:
“Nope nope nope.
Selling her house to help with your down payment = moving in because she has nowhere to live and ‘she helped pay for it’.
And don’t accept that hotel. It’s too much out of pocket to be forced to maintain someone else’s itinerary.” z-eldapin
3. My Family Expects Me To Give Up My Wedding Venue For My Pregnant Sister
“My (28/F) fiance and I have been together for 8 years and engaged for 3. I was doing my Ph.D. program and was juggling planning the wedding. My fiance took much of that work, but it was perfect because our dream venue was booked for after my graduation.
So what we did is book our dream venue 3 years in advance. It is really a beautiful venue. The only slot we got was in September of this year. My sister (23/F) got engaged a few months ago to her fiance.
They were planning on having a spring wedding next year. They had no venue lined up but had a few vendors lined up as well as a set date.
Yesterday our parents invited us and our SOs to a family bbq, where my sister announced to our extended family, that she is expecting.
Everyone was so happy for her and my BIL (who is a great guy). My Nan asked my sister if the wedding was still on the set date or if they were going to wait, because of the baby. She said no, that she hoped to move it to September.
NBD. We don’t have many out-of-town guests so they could attend both weddings no problem. Nan was happy and asked my sister if she needed help planning such a short-notice wedding.
My sister then turns around and said, ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
I was really really hoping we could kinda like take your venue. I really can not stress myself too much with planning a wedding while going to maternity classes. And I think it is so beautiful! It would really mean a lot to me.’
It went silent.
But everyone was looking at me expecting me to say ‘yes of course anything for my little sister!’
My BIL looked very uncomfortable and told her that they had talked about this and that it was not okay to put me on the spot.
But my sister just said ‘Don’t be like that! My sister wants to do what’s best for me so it’s no big deal right?’
I just said, ‘well it kind of is. I don’t know. I have my heart really set on the venue.’ Cue the crying.
She stormed off. Nan told me that I was being selfish because she needed the venue more than I did.
I tried to defend myself and my mother said ‘you waited 3 years. Would it have killed you to wait a few more months? When has your sister ever asked you for something?’ A few comments later my fiance got really mad and we left.
My sister called me crying and said that it was unfair that I always get what I want and that I could have done this one thing for her. Dad said it is just a venue and what matters is the person who you are marrying.
He is kind of right… but we have been planning for so long.
My fiance is furious with my family and doesn’t even want my sister to come. Now my family is threatening not to come because I am being selfish and my sister needs it more than me because having a baby is too stressful.”
2. Somehow It's My Fault That Your Kid Tried To Steal My Coins
“A friend and I were at a bowling alley, not bowling but playing pool at the front. The building also had an arcade and laser quest etc. We were there mid-day, maybe 1-2 pm on a weekend so the arcade was flooded with kids, my friend and I were near the bar playing pool away from the rest of the arcade.
Pool was £1 a game and the change machine that gave £1 coins didn’t work, so we had to use the 50p machine nearer the arcade.
I put a £5 note in the machine and went to put in a second, when a child comes over and tries to take the coins in the tray at the bottom, I notice him and put my hand in the way so he can’t take them.
Once I picked them up he is trying to get the coins out of my hand. I bring my hand up so he can’t reach and he starts crying, when of course his mother comes over to see the kid pointing at my hand and crying.
I know it looked like I probably took something off him so I was kind of awkward and didn’t know what to say, I assumed she would be understanding and I tried to explain. She wasn’t understanding
She started ranting that I must have taken his coins and wouldn’t let me get a word in.
Eventually, a member of staff comes over and asks what happened, with the child’s mother ranting another member of staff comes over and separates us. I explain I was just getting change and the child was trying to take the coins from the machine whilst I was putting in another note.
They understand and asked what I actually did when the child took the coins, I explain the kid didn’t actually get the coins before I got to them, and the person using the other change machine also vouches for me.
I get the rest of my change and go back to my friend at the pool tables.
I should note, the entire time I was talking to the member of staff the child was screaming and his mother hadn’t stopped ranting. I’m not sure if the staff kicked them out or they left, but the last I saw of them was at the front door, with the member of staff standing by the entrance.
I honestly feel kind of bad for the kid who must have only been like 4-5 years old, he was wandering around unsupervised in an arcade, probably unable to even play anything, and then stuck with his ranting mother before being dragged out.
Why take your kid to an arcade and not give them money to play anything?
I’ve learned my lesson and now I know to take the change asap when there are children in the vicinity.”
Another User Comments:
“Resident old fart here. I remember going to the arcade in the 80s and a few times I saw little kids lurking around the change machines.
They’d try to make a grab for the quarters/tokens when they came out. Never saw an entitled parent floating encouraging them to steal, so they probably came up with the brilliant plan on their own.
I distinctly remember a couple of them getting kicked out for trying it.
Hopefully, they learned a lesson.
And to answer your question: ‘Why take your kid to an arcade and not give them money’ – because some parents are cheap, entitled jerks. They’re looking for an excuse to dump their kid off for a few hours.
Some are probably delusional enough that they think people will pay for their games. Others just don’t give a crap that their kid is getting in people’s way or have to stand and watch and not participate. Then again, I’ve had to shoo away a few small children who were ‘playing’ a game (read: pressing random buttons on a game they didn’t put any money into).” NJdeathproof
1. Now You Want To Force A Name On Me? You're 10 Years Too Late
“The setup to this story is that I am a 25-year-old transgender man, recently out, still in the oven. Eight years before this, I lived my life as a lesbian – but really all of that was just preamble for me to finally accept I couldn’t live comfortably until I accepted myself as a straight guy who got screwed out of that sweet sweet male privilege by being born female in the wrong family, in the wrong community to be so.
I’ll be expecting my refund from the universe in the mail any day now, but my point is, I’ve been more or less socially transitioning at a snail’s pace all this time.
I brought up the idea of changing my name roughly exactly ten years ago now – a soft launch of testing my parents as to how they’d take me taking on a more masculine identity.
It did not go well. I got yelled at for hours, and it didn’t get better any way I tried to sell my parents the idea. My mom kept insisting I was ‘rejecting the first gift she ever gave me.’ I offered to choose my new name together.
No dice. I started just going by my last name as a compromise as a way for me to keep my deadname, but that was just as offensive to her as anything. She demanded an explanation as to why my deadname ‘wasn’t good enough’ and I chickened out of opening up about the very complicated feelings I was having at the time and said it was because people never pronounced it correctly.
Which is true: my deadname is a real name spelled ‘creatively’ (incorrectly) because my mom wanted something ‘different and unique.’ It doesn’t follow English grammar rules. That was just an excuse though.
Fast forward seven years, I’m an adult. No one outside of my family calls me by my deadname anymore, everyone calls me by my last name, and this is creating problems for me socially.
I’m still a few years away from transitioning, but I’m butch as heck and basically already living as a man. My supportive family members (two brothers and a sister) express to me they feel bad continuing to deadname me because they know I don’t like it, but it’s weird for them to refer to me by our collective family name.
My partner at the time and I have a whole conversation about it and we come up with the perfect first name for me. It’s gender neutral, it’s not too common but not weird or ‘creative,’ it’s one of those names both a little girl and a New York mobster in the 50s could have, like ‘Makenzie’ (it isn’t Makenzie, I’m just trying to describe it without saying it outright.) And very importantly, it’s a derivative of a nickname my mother gave me when I was a little kid.
It’s still a name SHE gave me. I fall in love with this name, yeah? And dumb dumb me thinks this will be the option my mom will finally accept without losing her crap.
Nope. Big screaming match. Old wound totally reopened.
She’s furious I even brought this up again.
Whatever. I love it, my whole family besides my parents love it, it works, it’s good. I now go by my last name on a more professional basis and my new first name casually/with family.
Either one I’m fine with. I change my socials (which originally just had my last name twice, or my initials) to my new first name. Hurray for me.
But oh no, here comes my mother, not to be shown up. She starts going out of her way to deadname me on social media.
She’ll write my real name so I’m tagged, and then take the extra step to remind everyone what my dead name is next to it. People who didn’t even know my deadname find out what it is this way.
I’ve never had one partner or close friend like my parents, but like, that jerk move becomes legendary in my social circle as a really bad look.
My girl at the time gets so mad she blocks my mother so she doesn’t have to see it.
Fast forward again to today. The year of our lord 2022. I come out as trans. And I watch in real-time as it hits my mom, who is very concerned with appearances, how bad it looks that she’s been deadnaming me for ten years.
And she . . . Well, she can’t really figure out how to save face and keep up the narrative that she’s ‘always supportive.’ Sometimes she calls me the right name FINALLY, but other times, she gets mad about it all over again and does something else.
Okay, for context, my brother has a best friend he’s known since he was a little baby. He’s basically an honorary part of the family. His name so happens to be the most obvious ‘male’ version of my deadname. You can imagine why (male version of deadname) wasn’t considered as an option from the start.
But even so my mother almost every time she talks to me brings it up ‘But what if you just went by (brother’s BFF’s name)?’ Or ‘I’m just going to call you (brother’s bff’s name) okay?’ Already her insisting on deadnaming me ‘The Remix tm’ version has caused so much confusion.
Nobody knows she’s talking about me when she refers to me as (brother’s bff’s name) so she has to use my chosen name anyway. And everyone is getting really mad at her at this point because it’s uncomfortable enough for my siblings that she’s refusing to use the name I’ve gone by for three/four years now without this added weirdness of someone else’s name that’s practically a part of the family.
She’ll get shut down, call me the correct name, then bring this up all over again a week or two later.
I straight up said to her she is literally ten years late to have her input, which remember, I offered her when I was 15.
Salt in the wound is when I told her the truth that I’ve been struggling with this for years and never told her, she’s mad about that now. She’s mad that a scared 15-year-old lied to save themselves from being rejected by their parents for expressing gender confusion.
No matter how many times I point out to her how impossible she made it for me to tell her the truth, and no matter how many times I tried to softly ease her in the idea I was unsure about my gender identity.
There’s no winning.”