People Are Confessing the One-in-a-Million Thing That Happened to Them

I got hit by lightning while driving and finally making it out into clear skies and sunlight after getting stuck in a fluke monsoon. We were driving back from Mexico to Lake Havasu City, AZ on CA 95 when between Glamis CA and Blythe CA an intense monsoon rolled in, in an area where there was no place to pull over.

The dips and washes started to collect water. There was a semi truck ahead of me blasting through it all, barely slowing down. It was like Moses parting the Red Sea every time it went through the wash ahead of us. I figured my options were to remain close behind that truck or stop at a high point on the highway.

My thought was that if there was one truck on this heavily traveled road there is likely to be another coming up either behind or in front of us. So I chose to stick behind the truck, and it worked: as the truck blasted through water filled washes, it cleared the path for us to make it through, and it made any large rocks that had been washed onto the road visible, so could be avoided.

After an intense five, maybe ten, minutes the rain started to subside. And then before we knew it the skies were blue and we were thrilled that we made it through. And then I heard what to me sounded like a violent explosion and unimaginable bright light, followed by loss of hearing, loud ringing in my ears, and a smoke filled car that smelled like gun powder.

My first instinct was that we ran over an explosive device, but in the smoky haze and ringing ears it was hard to think at all. I finally realized the car was completely dead and slowing quickly while still in the highway (with the truck ahead disappearing into the distance).

By the time I was able to think clearly we had almost slowed to a stop, and I had just enough time to manhandle the stiff steering wheel to get the vehicle off the roadway, albeit barely. I decided to get out and look at what happened to the car. I quickly realized the little stub antenna on the roof by the back window had been blown off and a hole was in the roof where the antenna was. That’s when I realized for sure we had been hit by lightning.

With barely any cell signal, having walked a little ways onto a nearby farm field, I called 911. I was still a little in shock, but I was more in shock when the 911 dispatcher told me she didn’t believe me, and that she wouldn’t send anybody out through these still ongoing monsoons for something like this, even when I explained we were dangerously close to the active roadway (granted, no vehicles had passed us).

We were on our own. Thankfully, the next call was to the insurance company, who were much more supportive, and was going to send a tow truck immediately. But they asked if we needed a tow truck or a jump start.

When I told her that we definitely needed a tow truck, my girlfriend heard me and actually tried to tell me we’d be fine with a jumpstart. I did not want to argue with her at that time but insured the insurance company we indeed needed a tow. Believe it or not the insurance company was Farmers.

But the fire department in the very small down of Palo Verde CA had witnessed what happened and soon arrived in a large fire truck. They were very surprised to see what happened to us, and the blackened hole in the roof.

But they calmed us down, gave us water, helped push the vehicle further off the roadway, and told us if we needed anything else, even just air conditioning, please come to the fire house not far up the road. I am forever grateful to the fire department in Palo Verde California.

The vehicle was a total loss: every single computer was fried. The only way to repair it was to buy 5 or 6 thousand worth of parts to replace the computers, with no guarantee that all of the wiring was also burnt out so would still require expensive work.

So they totaled the car. Ironically the only thing in the entire vehicle that still worked was the radio, albeit with no antenna to pick up anything but static (XM didn’t work). After that I told myself I would never buy a vehicle with an antenna on the roof ever again.

Username: Tinmania

This was in the 90's I was on an airplane flying northwest airlines that had a "catastrophic engine failure" during takeoff. The engine on the right side of the plane did not want to leave Sacramento that fateful day. It happened just as the nose of the plane got off of the ground.

The captain...slammed the breaks (I have no idea what he did to stop the plane, so Im not going to try and explain) and we came to a sudden and terrifying stop. Then it was silence, like an eery, graveyard kind of silence.

The captain got on the loud speaker and said "It seems we've had a bit of an issue with one of our engines. Were going to figure out whats going on, and let you folks know. Please sit tight, and we will get right back to you". Then the hum of somewhat uneasy and confused passengers filled the cabin.

I watched out the window as what looked like every single emergency service vehicle within 100 miles of Sacramento encircled the plane, but at a good safe distance. It was only at that moment that we saw the one thing you never want to see on a flight: flight attendants looking nervous and panicking as they rushed up and down the isle.

People were getting out of their seats at this point, trying to get a look at what was going on with the engines. Of all of the vehicles circling the plane, one lone and very basic looking service truck pulls up close to the plane and stops. A frumpy dude gets out of the truck and proceeds to spend what felt like 1,000 years, getting a tyvec suit on, and grab his gear.

He takes a ladder, and goes to the side of the plane I cannot see, which is clearly where the failed engine was on. We then her a lot of banging and clanging and thumping and whacking as this guy assesses the situation. The banging stops, and he waddles back to the truck, gets in and drives off.

The captain eventually gets on the speaker and says "Well folks we had our crew check out the engine, and they cant figure out whats wrong with the engines. So were going to go ahead and..."

It was at that moment where I did a fuck ton of math in my head in a split second. If the captain was about to say "Were going to go ahead and take off"...I would have run for the cabin doors, and let myself out. No fucking way was I flying on that airplane again.

Fortunately, in that infuriating monotone and perfectly calm pilot voice he said "So were going to to go ahead and get towed back to the terminal get you folks off of this plane and on to another. We apologize for the...blah blah blah". When we finally got off of the plane, we were able to get a look at the plane, and the runway. Thick black smoke darkened the sky for miles.

Unfortunately, it takes a really really long time to get an entirely full flight on a 737 booked onto another airplane, and possibly with another airline. We sat in that terminal for hours before they finally for us processed for another flight the next day. Hotel and meals (and in room porn!) were on the airline that day!

\*\*\*\*It should be noted that many years later, I was talking to a friend of mine who is a pilot for a major airline, and he told me that there is no way in hell they should have stopped the engines once the nose is off the ground.

That they are trained to take off, and circle back because once the nose is off the ground, there isn't enough room to safely take stop the plane in most airports. \*\*\*\* So that was my statistically improbably thing that happened to me. Engine blew up on takeoff.

Username: naugasnake

I’m pretty late to the party here so nobody will end up reading this but it is cathartic to tell my story. And ooooh boy do I have a good one for this... this is the story about how I ended up with THREE of the most painful nerve conditions known to humans... all from one bite of food.

It all started when I was feeling depressed and ordered the greasiest take out one night from a franchise in town. First the delivery was late, then the guy couldn’t find my house, then when it finally arrived I started eating and bit down onto something hard AF.

It immediately hurt and I thought I must have broken a tooth but everything looked fine. I looked through my bite of food and found a 1/8 inch object. It felt like a rock. Called the company, complained and they apologized and picked up the “object.”

Flash forward to the next day and I started feeling this bizarre pain. It felt like being electrocuted every time I took a breath. It was the most pain I’ve ever felt. A couple days later with this pain continuing I decided I should probably see a dentist. When I went he said I needed a root canal.

The pain got worse after the root canal. So I went to an endodontist. They did THREE more root canal procedures. All of which the pain got worse after. I finally went to the ER and they said it was “normal” post operative pain and gave me some drugs and sent me on my way.

Flash forward a few months and the pain had only increased. I was barely eating and I was taking the max dose of Advil and Tylenol every day and nothing would even touch the pain. Then I started feeling electrocution shocks again. So bad that they dropped me to my knees. I started sobbing and screaming in pain at work. Luckily, I worked at a hospital and my manager walked me to the ER.

I ended up hospitalized for three weeks. Because I was taking so much Advil I had depleted my potassium, magnesium and sodium. I was nearing a heart attack with how low my electrolytes were. I had a spinal tap because I had a fever for an unknown reason. I had blood work, ct and mri scans.

They thought I was having a stroke. Then a doctor did a occipital nerve block and the pain stopped. This should have been a diagnosis but instead I was admitted and they treated me as if I was crazy.

They accused me of being abused at home. They accused me of being crazy and bipolar (and it even said so in my hospital paperwork). Nobody believed that my pain was real until I saw my neurosurgeon. He did another occipital nerve block, a Trigeminal nerve block and a vegas nerve block. The pain immediately stopped.

I felt human again (although my face was full of fluids from the injections and I looked an awful lot like [Quark from Star Trek...](https://www.startrek.com/sites/default/files/styles/content_full/public/images/2019-07/6e7b33fdea3adc80ebd648fffb665bb8.jpg?itok=tq4ZsR9b)

This led to my diagnosis. Occipital neuralgia, Trigeminal neuralgia and Cluster headaches. All of which happened from one little tooth injury that I barely thought anything of at the time. It took me almost ten years to get mostly well (yes, I did sue, but I had to sign an NDA).

Two years I spent unable to get out of bed and nearly suicidal. Four years I spent high as a kite on about thirty pills a day. Six years getting I spent getting nerve blocks, Botox, and many, many other treatments to try to help it, most of which didn’t. And I probably have a lifetime of trauma because of all of it.

Having one of those disorders is a one in a million shot, having all three from an injury is statistically immeasurable. Now I only take medications as needed and I treat myself daily with ice and a specific physio protocol.

At one point I was ready to die, but against all odds I made out alive and my flare ups are more like the worst migraine ever or numbness and tingling in my face, arms or neck. Once in a while I bump my teeth in a weird way and wind up in a big flare up again, but it is less and less frequent. Anyway... that’s my story.

Username: KhalesiDaenerys

I have accidentally predicted the future. Not once, but 3 separate times years apart. Sophomore in high school, me and my buddy are walking the neighborhood smoking bowls. Pretty quiet suburban neighborhood in southern Alabama. We sit on a storm drain and pack a bowl.

This whole time we had been hearing a motorcycle absolutely ripping around but we assumed it was on the country roads that surrounded the neighborhood because people did that all the time. I hit the bowl, look at my buddy and say “bro, wouldn’t it be cool if that bike came around that corner (pointed to the street to our left) and busted a wheelie right in front of us, the hauled ass off that way (pointed to the street to our right that exited the neighborhood).

He said “yea that would be sick.” As soon as he did a red motorcycle came ripping around the exact corner I pointed to, busted a wheelie in front of, and hauled ass out the exact way I pointed to. We just looked at each other in disbelief and then lost our minds about what the fuck just happened.

Playing multiplayer James Bond game on N64 with my cousins. I was Oddjob but I always killed then with the hat throw so they made a rule I had to toss the hat as soon as I spawned. We were on the map that’s a ski resort in the mountains, and my first respawn after making the rule I spawned at the top of the hill, looked up and said James Bond killed by OddJob and threw the hat.

Like 5-10 seconds later my cousin just drops dead, James Bond killed by Oddjob in the feed. There was only 3 of in the match and it’s a huge map, statistically even hitting him on purpose would be near impossible, much less a random throw I predicted.

Years later again, driving with the SAME BUDDY from story 1 the motorcycle wheelie event. It’s looking like it’s gonna storm but it hasn’t started yet. We are driving past the airport heading back home (our neighborhood was only a mile or two from the airport) and in front of the airport is a huge open field with a single row of trees planted across the field and even spaced.

I look over and say “bro wouldn’t it be crazy if that tree (and pointed to a specific tree) got struck by light...BOOM, I didn’t even finish the sentence and the tree fucking exploded as it got hit by lightning. We proceed to again start losing our minds and my buddy is like what the fuck that’s the second time you’ve done that weird shit, and I told about the previous time with the video game.

He said he would never believe any of it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. So not only are each individual scenario statistically out there, the fact I accidentally predicted them seems even more statistically impossible. But it happened.

There was one other time but it was different, I dreamt something and got to choose the outcome and it happened exactly like it had in my dream weeks earlier. Nothing like it has happened since and that was almost 20 years ago now.

Username: Dis4Wurk

I have four dads. When I was in third grade my mom and dad who were divorced sat my sisters and I down for a talk and told us we were adopted. A few months later my mom remarried so I have a step dad. They’re still married and he and my dad are good dudes so there’a #1 and #2.

As a teenager I started to have a lot of questions about medical stuff and genealogy and asked my parents about my birth parents. They actually knew my birth mom so I got enough info to track her down online. I reached out and it went well. She also messaged my birth dad who got in touch and we eventually met and developed a great relationship.

My birth mom and dad were always so sure I was my birth dad’s. I didn’t think we looked that much alike, but I thought I looked like his kids and other family members. I never questioned the paternity until my wife got me 23 and Me for Christmas of 2021.

My results surprised me: 29% Eastern European? I cross-referenced by looking at my birth mom’s biological dad and brother (she’s also adopted) on the site. I knew this must be from my birth dad’s side but these results didn’t match his background.

He said that wasn’t from him and then asked if I saw my brother on the site. My heart sank as I remembered that my “half-brother” had also used 23 and Me. I called him and we matched up on the site: 0% DNA match...

We took a paternity test and while we were waiting for weeks for the results I also ordered an ancestry.com kit to get more DNA relatives to hopefully find my actual birth dad. This time was very stressful as my birth mom was insisting that dad #3 was my birth dad and that there were no other potential candidates. I asked if she was sure as we were awaiting paternity test results and she said yes.

The results came back confirming my suspicions and I had started making a family tree based off the few distant relatives on 23 and Me to find suspects but there weren’t many male relatives listed. Luckily the Ancestry results showed three close relatives which I quickly realized based on their age and percent match must be my grandmother, aunt, and half-sister. I pretty quickly figured out who my birth dad was, confirmed it with my birth mom (she had slept with somebody with his name but thought it was at a different time than when I was conceived), and reached out to my new aunt.

Last summer I met my actual birth dad and it went well. We also have a great relationship. I feel very lucky to have four dads in my life who love me. My original “birth dad” was in my life for 16 years so we decided to maintain our relationship.

Username: itsmebill

I was working with a high profile politician at the time (hence the alternative/throwaway account). This was while we were temporarily based in a host country. We were driven from his office to his house in an armoured car convoy escorted by the security service (visiting heads of state get diplomatic security which is lower than the security we had).

His house had snipers on the roof, and security services officers at the front door, sides and back of the house. There are also sleeping/living quarters in the basement with about a dozen officers there and they had access via passageways all around the house (kind of like a moat). Cars with officers were also parked in the vicinity so no one’s comes into the area without the them seeing.

Now this politician has already survived a few attempts on his life, some by Al Qaeda and others by unfriendly Middle Eastern leaders. One of them was a close call and the assassin left him for dead and then raided the hospital morgue that night to check he’d been killed (while he was upstairs in the OT).

Back to the car. So while we’re en route from office to house, I ask him about our travel plans, annoyed that we’ve had to stay put in this country for longer than expected. He produces a piece of paper and hands it over to me. It’s an intelligence report issued by a friendly country, advising against travel to our onward country because they’ve uncovered two attempts on his life - including an attempt to poison his food, and also recommends mitigating actions. I get it - we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future and it’s a heightened state of alert.

But we’re safe here as this is a safe country and we’ve got so much security anyway. Or so I thought...About 30 minutes later, I’m sitting in the hall with him and his two kids. We hear a gunshot at the main door and the two officers stationed at the front are groaning. It’s very clear they’ve been shot.

I rush him to the bedroom, come back and grab his kids and bundle them in there too and notice he’s got these ceremonial guns (gifts from heads of state) out of their boxes and bullets all over the bed as he’s loading his guns. This worries me so I lock him in while I close the metal shutters on the windows around the house and shout out for the head of security.

The cook comes out asking about the commotion and I tell her to lie on the floor in the kitchen. In the meantime I find his wife and take her to the bedroom too and lock them all in. I believe (or at least did at the time) in what he’s trying to achieve and am ready to risk my life to save him and what he stands for.

I finally locate the head of security while he’s rushing to the front door and busy shouting into his radio. I stop him and ask him what’s happened. He tells me not to worry as everything is under control. I tell him it’s not ok as the politician is loading his guns and about to come out all guns blazing.

He tells me that one of the officers at the front door accidentally dropped his rifle/machine gun with barrel facing up. He’d tried to grab it from the top of the barrel. The butt of the rifle hit the ground, went off and the bullet blasted through the officer’s hand.

I’m shocked but I continue to ask about the fact that I heard both officers at the front door groaning. He inhales and let’s out a sigh before explaining that the after the bullet went through the first officer’s hand, ricocheted off the patio ceiling and embedded itself into the other officer’s thigh. Seriously? What are the chances and of all days?!

I go back to the bedroom and let them all out while explaining what happened and we all have to put up with the wife shouting how she hates having guns in the house for the next 30mins or so. Luckily the cook served food and we forgot all about it. Until we had the next attempt... which was real.

Username: fromThen2Here2There

Got into 3 road accidents in the span of 6 weeks of moving to a new place. Got out unscratched in all 3 of them. One: On the 19th of February, at 19:00, I decided to take myself out for a birthday treat. After a nice meal, it was tremendously hard to find any auto ride back to campus from the bus stand at around 21:00.

After walking quite a bit towards the campus, I caught one near Reddy colony. I was told to sit beside the driver, as any commoner would. The Auto driver kept manhandling me whenever he saw a potential customer and kept sliding me towards him by force.

Being new in the city, I believed people here would be more handsy than usual. However, after filling the auto to the brim with about 12-14 people, he started the ride. He then proceeded to stop at a petrol pump, get out of the auto, play with the dogs for a while, fill his small water bottle, play a bit more with the dogs, and restart the ride.

This behaviour seemed enough to raise a red flag, but I did not have any other option either this late, so I stayed. After crossing Mangalam, there are no streetlights for most of the Karakambadi road. As we approach the campus, I see the auto getting closer and closer to the divider, and then it crashes.

All the passengers were lucky not to have survived any major injuries except the driver. We were also lucky not to have any speeding buses passing by, which could have transformed this into a tragedy. Coming back to the driver, he is unconscious and not responding to any of us.

A kind lady gave him whatever CPR she knew and begged for help from passers-by but did not get any. All of us are stranded on a pitch-black road with little to no help. After spotting a biker, I hitchhiked my way to the campus, shocked to the core. All of this was only on my third day in the town. Spoiler alert on the auto driver: he was most likely drunk and slept on the wheel.

Two: On the evening of the 26th of March, I braved myself for yet another dinner outside the campus. I planned to catch an auto early enough at around 19:45. While this auto driver seemed sober, his driving wasn't the best. On the way back to campus, he saw a customer and took a sharp left from the middle of the road. There was a biker just behind the auto, and with his skilful manoeuvring and slow speed, he managed to get past the auto.

However, there was a speeding bike a little farther behind, and it managed to save the humans sitting on the back side of the auto by severely slipping and drifting on the road. There were plenty of shards of glass that managed to enter the auto and mildly injure some of the passengers. I was not.

However, the pillion rider of the bike was an older gentleman who was heavily injured. The bike driver seemed to be okay.

Three: At around 21:00 on the 30th of March, while returning from yet another dinner, my friend and I faced the wrath of total strangers. Taking a shared auto from the Tirupati Bus stand back to campus, we waited for the auto driver to fill the auto with 11 people, including himself.

Looking at the condition of the auto, I evaluated that this driver might drive well since it was newer and well-maintained. I was about to be proved wrong. Soon after starting the journey, two young men overtook the auto and probably cursed the driver while doing it.

The auto driver then proceeds to overtake the bike and stop the auto in the middle of the road without caring for any vehicles that might be coming from behind. The men then start having a fight in a language unknown to me.

After a pretty heated interaction and good work by some good samaritans on pacifying the feud, we restart the journey. However, as the men on the bike started to fight again while driving, the auto driver then swivelled his auto into the bike, sandwiching the bike between the auto and the pointy road divider. This severely hurt one of the passengers who got caught in between all this.

By some miraculous feat, the bike drivers managed to save themselves and get to the side of the road safely. However, the auto driver was not yet satisfied and then again crashed his auto brutally on the men on the bike.

This time the auto came to a halt, and all the passengers, including my friend and I, rushed out of the tilted auto and onto the sidewalk. The men kept fighting while we tried to evade the scene and catch another auto back to campus.

Extras: These extraordinary circumstances might seem bizarre, but I am not the only one to have experienced this. Another friend of mine faced a similar situation while coming from Airport to the campus.

His auto driver speeded in the dead of night and lost control of the handle. The auto then continued to roll fast, with glass flying everywhere. He survived after sustaining a few injuries.

Username: bluuebunny

So one day I had the shitters during my military service. It was on the same day as the commander expected a visit from one of the highest dudes in the military. I mean, as a commander he was already in a very high and respectable position, leading 500 soldiers, but the arriving dude was like the 5th highest position in the military, and for each of these 5 positions there is only 1 person occupying this position in the entire country.

For the sake of the story, imagine the commander being the CEO of a 500 employee company, and us soldiers being his employees. As preparation for the visit, we were cleaning up every corner for the last 2 days. Everything needed to be as clean as a whistle, such that you would want to lick the ground clean after eating from it.

So 10-15min before the higher up arrives, everyone is preparing to go to the assembly area. During the walk my stomach decides it cannot hold it anymore and I'm suffering in great pain. I knew at this moment that if I didn't find a toilet immediately I would shit my pants... I don't want to necessarily ruin my already bad reputation towards my comrades by being known as the shitty arse.

So I start running back to the bunker to sit on a toilet. Exactly a minute after I sit down, the commander bursts into the toilet room, it seems like he was inspecting every room in the bunker to make sure it looked fine before the important visit...

And he didn't realize I was sitting there in one of the dozen cubicles, shitting out my stomach pain, probably because I held it in before continuing to do my deed to stop making awkward noises. He turns off the lights and leaves me behind... in a big bunker deep in the ground where no natural lights shine, in total darkness, with the messiest arse one can have.

And after all this, now comes the most unlikely part. So I try to handle the cleaning methodologically, trying to wipe everything as best as I can without being able to check my toilet paper - I mean to see if it remains clean after a wipe or not. After a while, I decide to stand up with my pants down in order to leave the toilet cubicle to turn on the lights so I can have a calm mind knowing everything is as clean as the grounds we were cleaning with toothbrushes for the last 2 days. After all, everyone is busy with the visit and nobody should be down there anymore in this particular random bathroom, right?

The very moment I open up my toilet door, the lights suddenly turn on, and the commander is standing right in front of me, in disbelief, with an immediate direct sight of me, my lowered pants and my dangling jimmy.

I was directly staring into his face, maybe even into his soul, trying to read what he was thinking of this situation. He tried to remain calm and emotionless as best as he could, but I could make out the emotions from his face.

At first, I interpreted it as disgust, but upon closer inspection I understood that it was the face of sheer disappointment that he was not able to hide. He was not angry or shocked, he was not disgusted... he was simply disappointed to find a random soldier there, in this exact moment, probably around 5min before one of the most important visits of his life.

He just left, no words were spoken, and this was never mentioned ever again. I barely made it to the assembly area in time, and happy end I guess. But what are the chances of this encounter happening? Why does he check up on the same random bathroom a second time right before such an important visit?

Username: hellschatt

Back in 2016, I worked for American Honda Motors as a training specialist in customer service. I got the job right at the start of that big airbag inflator recall and did most of my training at corporate headquarters within walking distance of my home, so I rarely needed the new car I had recently purchased. (My first car, A 2016 Civic)

Suddenly, the criteria of the recall changed and we were getting thousands of calls per day from angry and confused customers. We could not keep up with demand, so we had to find a way to train people about the airbag situation as fast as possible.

We designed a shortened one week training course designed to teach our students the basics of the SRS System, (airbags, seatbelts, what is the recall, why is it happening, etc), and then get them onto the phones.

I was scheduled to be the lead for the first session of this expedited airbag safety course. On my first day, headed to the training center, I get on the 405 N and as I get on, I notice this older Civic with registration stickers slapped all over the license plate and bumper. It was weird, so I remembered it.

35 minutes later, I am in some weird traffic where it would be bumper to bumper 10 mph, then would suddenly open up to 60 mph, then slow suddenly again. During one of the faster sections, I notice that I am behind that same Civic from earlier. “Huh, that’s weird, what are the odds?”

Then the traffic came to an immediate halt. Guy in the older Civic manages to stop, I manage to stop close behind him. I look back in my rear view and just have an “Aw, fuck” moment. I watched the woman behind me look up from her phone and mouth “Oh shit.”

She plowed into me going 60 mph and pushed me into the Civic. My airbag goes off, my car is utterly fucked. We all pull over. Older Civic has some minor bumper damage.

My brand new Civic (2800 miles) is totaled. The woman who hit me? Driving a newish Honda CR-V. And to top ot all off, I was burned and scarred by... my airbag.

Username: IntentionalWit

Playing D&D and because it’s just a one-shot with family, I create the goofiest character I can, especially since all my stats were the absolute worst.

I’m a low-power halfling fellow, whom I name Harold McGee. His primary skill? Trout-tickling. If you’re unfamiliar with the practice, this means that wee Harold mcGee would stand in the river until fish got close, slip his hand underneath one, give it a little tickle, and (at least some of the time) would then be able to snatch it up. No spells, no rage, no weapons, not even a fishing rod. Harold McGee was all and only about that fish-tickling life.

Well, my little dude got caught up in larger events, as one does, and wound up headed into a battle against a bunch of goblins with nothing but his little wicker fishing creel, holding a few of the day’s trout. Someone offers Harold a weapon, but does he take it? No. That’s not what Harold is about, and he lacks the intelligence and wisdom stats to understand which way the cookie is crumbling.

The goblins assemble, rattling their fearsome weapons. The party girds their loins! The goblins scream their fearsome battle cries. Harold does not fully understand what is happening, because to Harold, intelligence, wisdom, and charisma are things that happen to other people. Harold has initiative (the party groans, because weaponless Harold looks likely to do about as much damage as a light breeze).

Harold reaches into his little wicker creel with his little halfling hand and pulls out...a trout. Harold does the only thing that makes sense to Harold, and hucks his trout as far as his little halfling arm can throw, straight at the goblin chief. It is that moment that I roll for Harold’s “attack”: Nat 20.

The trout sails through the air, and straight into the open maw of the goblin chieftain screaming his battle cries. He is shocked into silence as a trout slaps into his open mouth! And...oh no...the goblin chieftan has a horrific allergy to fish!

His face swells up and as his crew of neer-do-wells look on, horrified, he expires in agony, clutching his trout-filled throat. The goblins fail their morale check — for all they know, their opponents are absolutely beefed with magic killer fish — and Harold McGee, trout-tickler, has with one throw saved the day. Songs are sung in his honor. He goes back to his trout-tickling life, and wonders what all the fuss was about.

Username: puffed-and-reckless

Was at a friends bat mitzvah when I was 12. The reception was at her parents house as it wasn’t a super large group. They had a basement that we were kinda hanging out in. It was mostly unfinished, and so it still only had cinder block walls.

Anyway, there was a dart board and we wanted to play, but there was no way to hang it, due to the walls. So, I volunteered to hold it up, positioning myself behind a roughly 4ish foot dresser, holding the board by the metal piece that smart people use to hang it, from behind.

So in my head, logistically, I was completely behind it and covered, and theoretically, the only way I could get hit was if I looked out from behind, exposed my hands, or if it bounced off something behind me.

However, there was a hole in the bulls-eye of the board. A chunk of the red was missing from years of abuse, maybe the size of a pencil eraser. Anyway, after a few rounds I got bored and after I heard 3 darts thrown and knew they were taking a break to get the darts and switch turns, like a dumb 12 year old I peaked through the hole in the bulls-eye to see whose turn it just had been. I had done this maybe 2 times already.

At that moment they decided to stop playing and so threw a 4th dart which hit the bulls-eye (yes, pun people, I know). Eye immediately started tearing, but I played it cool. Bat Mitzva mom wasnt having it tho. Went to the local hospital and they told me I had to go to Wills Eye in Philly cause they don’t handle “holes in eyes”. Shout out to Dr. Irv Raber who they flew in to save the day (and my eye). It went through the pupil, cornea, lens, and just missed the retina by 1 mm. If it punctured the retina they would have had to remove it.

For anyone reading and wondering, I still have it, but don’t use it, as they had to remove the lens and it wandered too far before I was able to have a synthetic lens put in. My friend who threw the dart then went on to become the star pitcher for the Junior High/High School baseball team.

Username: CountryEfficient7993

I got one, still the craziest thing that ever happened to me and it absolutely defies probability imo. I had to copy and paste this from a post i made a couple years ago.

So, in 2016 I bought a car. I hadn't owned one in 3 years because my other one was stolen and I couldn't afford to replace it. Finally found another car on Craigslist super cheap yet well maintained. The couple I bought the car from were fantastic, just really nice people who said "we knew this car would find the right owner and its you! This car is going to get you to the next phase of your life!"

Two years later, I was involved in a little fender bender. I had moved 100 miles away from LA, where i had bought the car, and where I live now we have rough winters, feet of snow, etc. So I am coming round this curve and suddenly hit a patch of ice and sideswipe a car parked alongside the road.

Their car had more damage than mine, and it was obviously my fault as I had skidded something like 50 feet and managed to merely sideswipe instead of t-bone them. We take photos of each other's insurance cards. I call it in, etc etc. My car is fine except for a cracked headlight.

Well the next day the insurance company calls me. They tell me the insurance card I photographed didn't belong to the people that I hit. AAA lets me know that the card belonged to a couple who had some stuff stolen from their car the week before, nowhere near the accident- in Pasadena.

This obviously implies that the people I ran into had been the thieves. i will probably never know. I never heard anything else about it. My insurance went up about 5 dollars, and the car I had hit was a rental, and I don't hear anything else about it.

Fast forward to this evening.I am going through my email attachments trying to find a photo and I stumble on the pics of the insurance card the people I had hit had given me.I notice the names. The name of the man is a Spanish name, his full name....ill say the name on the card was Eduardo but .....it was the former owners of my car. I hadn't connected the two at the time because of the Spanish name and I had only known him as Ed, not his full name.

SO I wrote the owners and said, "perhaps the card dropped on the ground from my car? Shot out on impact? I have no explanation". He writes back ten minutes later. "Call me immediately. I have the explanation. AMAZING".I just got off the phone with them.

The insurance card didn't belong to my own car, so it didn't fall out upon impact, it was for my car's former owners OTHER car, and they had indeed had someone steal a lunchbox and wallet from their car in Pasadena a week before my accident.

Of all the millions of people in Socal, i somehow managed to sideswipe people who were somehow in possession of a stolen insurance card that belonged to the freaking former owners of MY car. That is 100 miles away from the scene of the accident.

ALL of our minds are blown and this is so rare of a coincidence that I cannot help but think its mathematically on par with being bitten by the same shark on the same leg at the same time 20 years later or something.

Ed kept saying, "this is a good omen. This is incredible. what a good omen."I mean, i knew the car was meant for me, but this is beyond the beyond!TL,Dr- sideswipe people in possession of a stolen insurance card that belonged to the former owners of my car a hundred miles away, years later!

Username: outinthecountry66

My tale is a melange of statistical improbability, Newtonian laws being ignored, and possible divine intervention.

30-some odd years ago, I was a student, living in what could only be described as a horrific shitpit of a shared house. We once grudgingly had to do had to do some washing up when we found maggots in the sink, and the primary toilet was, shall we say ... interestingly coloured in places.

One fated Sunday morning, I woke up in the clutches of a Category 5, semi survivable hangover. I am talking about the type of hangover that claws at your soul, lasts at least two days, and engenders a pounding head and a taste in the back of your mouth that hints at ingestion of a mystery rodent that died of some foul mousepox.

Anyway, rising to an empty house (end of term) around the crack of noon, I ventured down to the kitchen - wearing slippers of course, nobody was going to risk that floor surface barefoot. In desperate need of some sort of sustenance, I considered my options. Food delivery was not an option in the early 90's on a Sunday afternoon, although I'd have gladly given a testicle for a huge pizza full of - well, who cares - grease.

The nearest store was too far away, given my catastrophically debilitated state, so I surveyed the in house options. Within moments, a plan presented itself. There was a single, only slightly furry slice of bread and a loaf crust. A used tin of corned beef still had the half inch lump in the top of the can.

Some butter, with mysterious brown streaks in it (Marmite, one hoped). Some hastily scraped cheese - hey, some of them are meant to have mould in - and the picture was complete. All the ingredients were present for that perfect medium to hold back a top end Katzenjammer and get me the beans to get to a proper shop - a toasted sandwich.

With trembling hands I assembled the ingredients into the ancient Brevil sandwich toaster, one of the old school ones that made them into two triangles, connected by a brittle spine of super compressed bread. On she went, and within 10 seconds the air was filled with the glorious aroma of corned beef sizzling with melted cheese. I was struggling not to let the drool lagoon forming in my mouth release onto my T-shirt - even basic multi tasking was beyond me (and my primary job was to breathe and not fall over).

Soon enough the triangles of glory were ready for consumption, and with infinite care they were levered off Big Brev and onto a plate, to be consumed in supine position on the sofa. This was when tragedy struck.

As I transited towards the living room, our wall mounted phone (early 1990's, remember) rang, and to my addled brain this came with the shock of a bucket of ice water thrown in my face. I jerked with surprise, and my snack of redemption veered towards the edge of the plate. Too late, I overcorrected, and to my horror, the toasties flew off the plate towards the kitchen floor.

1 and a half seconds felt like hours - "nooooooooooooo" - as the plummeting took place. This was not the sort of kitchen floor you'd be eating anything off of - no 3 second rule here. Then, it happened. Call it improbable, call it a moment where the laws of Physics simply failed to apply, or call it divine intervention. I caught the falling toasties on my foot.

To this day I do not know how I did it, I'm not the most co-ordinated of people, and how they didn't split in two, very much as they were designed to do, I do not know. All I know is that by some miracle, my plans for early stage recovery avoided being Napoleon Blownaparte by the most unlikely event I've ever seen. It was super tasty too.

Username: Sculph16

Within 8 months of being married, i lost my wedding band twice and found it both times. The first time I thought i lost it while jumping up for a header in a soccer game i was playing in. I thought i had my ring in my shorts as good luck and figured it might have fallen out once i realized it wasn't there at the end of the game.

I spent 2 hours searching the field and woke up extra early to go to the park and search again. No luck. Then a few weeks later at around 5 am, i pulled at one of my pants in my closet to wear, and the ring just fell out of the darkness of my closet and hit the floor.

My wife who isn't a light sleeper instantly woke up and said "what was that?" I swear it felt straight out of a movie. It was as if God just threw it at me. I had to refrain from screaming in joy that early in the morning after the guilt i was feeling. I told myself never again.

The second time was a few weeks after that when i left my ring in a small zip pocket in my shorts while working out at the gym. I figured it was completely safe and should not fall out at all. My wife took the shorts and threw them into the laundry once i got home.

She didn't feel like doing it herself so she paid the laundry mat to do it for her. At first, i figured the ring was safe because they wouldn't even think to check pockets right? Wrong because once i got the laundry bag and immediately pulled out the shorts, the zip pocket was open and the ring was gone.

This time i really felt like shit and didn't know how i would even think to get the ring back. I actually lost all hope at that point but I took a shot and went back to the laundry mat and asked the nice worker at the counter if she happen to have a gold ring with fingerprints in them.

She said she would talk to the other workers and see if they saw anything but at the time there was nothing similar. A week or two go by and i get a phone call from the same lady saying she found my ring!! and that they found it "underneath one of the machines while cleaning"

I don't really care at this point if they tried stealing it or not, but thank god they gave it back!! Funny enough my wife went to pick it up to confirm it was the ring because boy she was not happy with me anymore at that point. Its been a few months and i still have it

Username: jwh0423

In the same incident. I was jaywalking across the street and noticed a car coming up too fast in the far lane, so I stopped on the yellow line to let them pass. The driver in the close lane I had just crossed panicked (rightfully) at the sight of a teenager looming in the middle of the street and zigged instead of zagged, knocking me off my feet.

I fell forward and was struck by the second car's bumper while in the air, almost horizontal, and thrown like 15 feet clear into the road. Not run over, hit like I was a pitched baseball. The split second timing alone is beyond comprehension. I would not have survived my upper body being run over at those speeds.

Also statistically improbable? I broke my back, including a loss of sensation and function in my left leg, but because I was young the resident doctor wanted to put me in a back brace and stand me up and call it a day.

An experienced nurse who happens to have a lifelong friendship with my aunt took a look at my x Ray despite not being my nurse and noted a blood clot pressing on my spine (unusual black spot where bone should be). If I had been put on my feet, the pressure of my whole body weight would have torn it and likely damaged my spine permanently.

The surgeon later said that 60% of my spinal cord in that area was severed and bleeding. I might have been paralyzed if the hematoma ripped open the rest.

He went over the residents head, interrupted the attending by waving the x-ray above his head, and they both burst in minutes before the inevitable. I was litterally braced and sitting on the edge of the stretcher with two staff members and a walker ready to be stood up. I was slammed back into the stretcher so fast they had to give me more pain meds.

My mom got to listen to the attending receive the ass reeming of a lifetime while my aunts friend helped my nurse start prepping me for surgery. Afterward, I regained most of the feeling in my left leg and am now walking and dancing and so on 20 years later.

No surprise, I am now a nurse. I owe the universe. In case you read this; Thank you again, Benoit! Thank goodness you happened to be on shift and cared enough to lookout for me.

Username: AriBanana

The first and only time I ever tried to purchase something from the LetGo app, the seller tried to rob me at gunpoint. He shot and missed my face by less than an inch at most.

So for context: I pull up at the location which was a park near a high school. It was raining so I messaged him im waiting outside in my car and begin scanning around looking for the seller. I pull out my phone to message again, and that’s when the dude popped up at my window with his hoodie tied over his face. Instantly he said “Gimme all your money!” to which I mumbled “huh?”

That’s when, from the passenger side window, the guy pulls out his pistol and reaches it into my car, all while aiming it at my face. He repeats himself: “Gimme all your money!” At this point, I panicked. Still sitting in the driver seat of my Jeep Wrangler, I throw it from neutral into first gear and slam on the gas. Because of the rain, I just spin out and sit there for a moment. Still staring the barrel of his pistol in my face, he fires.

BANG! Suddenly I’m moving forward, fish tailing across the road. I swing a right and floor it to the next stop sign. I start patting everywhere. My face, my arms ,my chest, my body. Where am I hit?!? I know I’m hit, I’ve got to be! Did he fire a blank? Suddenly I feel a drop on my left arm and my eyes dart there in an instant. It’s clear. Water? I look up a bit more, and to my relief, I see a dime sized hole pierced right through the fabric of my soft top window.

Clean shot, in and out in the least damaging way possible to everything involved. My face was leaned up against my steering wheel at the time and it went straight through in between my face and the steering wheel and hit nothing but some fabric on the way. I got away clean, money in tact, face still in one piece, and even got an extension on my project due the next day haha.

This was about 4 years ago, btw. Just finally told my mom last year haha. Still got the video of the shell casing that flew off in the car and the hole that it made in my window if anyone wants to see

Username: Yung-Mozza

I think it was around 2005. I had job that required me to travel across Asia Pacific every week. The particular airline I was always using had about 30+ different movies for inflight entertainment every month. I had been flying so much that month that I had seen every single movie I wanted to see and on a return 6-hour flight from yet another business trip back home towards the end of the month. There was nothing new to watch.

The airline also had CDs on demand. I went skipping through them not really wanting to listen to any of them. Perhaps the 15th or so CD was Black Eyed Peas new album: Monkey Business. I’m not a big fan of their songs, and I was listening to a track, skipped after a short while to the next and then to the next.

Until the 12th track Bebot came up. Instead of English it’s sang (rapped) in Tagalog (language in the Philippines because one of their members was originally born there). I was so in awe of that song that I must listened to the track probably more than 15 times. Because it’s in Tagalog I did not understand what the lyrics were about.

Next week and still the same month I had to fly to Manila for work. Again, I listened to the same song more than 10 times. I was wondering what Filipinos think about the song, would they like it, would they hate it, or simply not care. What I wanted to do on that trip though was to go to a bar and hear them play the song to see what is people’s reaction to the song.

When I was on my way from the Manila airport to the hotel I saw billboard on the way that was advertising that Black Eyed Peas were in Manila on their world tour and doing a concert there that week. The concert was of course sold out, it was happening on a Friday, and I was traveling back on Thursday so there was no way for me to see the concert.

On Wednesday evening we went for a dinner. After the dinner we were talking about going and having few more drinks somewhere else. One of the people suggested the “in club” in Manila at the time, Embassy, if I still recall correctly.

Someone else said that on Wednesday’s they play hip hop and most people in the group were much older so they had no interest in hip hop. We were thinking of other places and no one could come up with a better suggestion so we decided to head there anyway. One lady in the group said she knows people from the club and perhaps we can get a table at the VIP area.

Once we got there there were big bouncers and they told us the VIP area for that evening was off limits so we decided to have drinks in the main bar area instead. The DJ for the evening (there was no real stage in the club) was every now and then saying: Black Eyed Peas in the house, Black Eyed Peas in the house. I thought that he just meant that Black Eyed Peas were in Manila at the same time.

Around midnight or so all members of Black Eyed Peas came out unannounced and gathered around the small DJ booth (minus Fergie, she was not there). They put the song Bebot on and did the song live! The whole place exploded! I have never seen that kind of atmosphere in a club before that or ever since! Once they had done that one song they disappeared and probably went back to drinking in the VIP area.

From just wanting to hear that song played in a bar in Manila to hearing it live by the band was such a remote chance that in terms of odds it probably bordered a religious experience.

Username: BranchPredictor

I wished for some chocolate covered pretzels while walking in the southern mountains on the Colorado/New Mexico border. About half a mile later, two grocery bags are laying on the trail (we are miles and miles away from civilization) in one bag were two bags of rolls gold pretzel sticks and in the other bag was a jar of chocolate sauce! My travel buddy was astounded, as was I.
In terms of this kind of improbable unlikely-hoods, I happen to have a strong ability to manifest all sorts of things.

For instance, as a young person who was frustrated with corporate media and the constant doom and gloom stories that are always the front page, I wished out loud to me buddy that there was a positive news outlet, where you could read or learn about all the good things that have happened in recent events....

The VERY next morning, just out front of the coffee shop we were in the day before when I made my wish, there is a brand new, bright yellow newspaper box, Positive News, I'm not even kidding. It had stories of whale populations that were showing a comeback, environmental wins and such things.

When I was 18 I wished for a pound of pot for 4:20, lol. I met this gorgeous dread locked boy with a didgeridoo and a dog later that morning, we went to chill and celebrate the day (4/20/00) I told him about my goal, mind you I was a traveling hippie child with like 47 cents to my name....

He told me to meet him that night at 7 at our local open mic arts cafe place, Fire and Water. When he showed up he had a pound of herb for me! Hahaha! We rolled up hundreds of joints all night and handed them out at the gongafest the following day.

Eventually, I earned the moniker, Mistress of Manifestation, lol. I also find four leafed clovers nearly every time I look down at the grass. I don't look for them, I just see them when I look.

I sat outside of an ex's grow shop on his opening day and picked over 40 and pressed them between packing tape and he handed them out with his first however many customers.
Life is strange. And magical. Yes, I am a pisces. Lol

Username: Overall-Situation-60

Went on a backpacking trip with a couple friends for a week. Brutal hike with 50 pounds on each back. On the hike in I turned to my friends and told them that some sort of primal forest spirit was in my head and speaking to me, telling me that I was destined to make my first kill with my new pistol on that trip.

Specifically, that my soul and the soul of another animal were "doing this" (proceeds to make a peace sign with each hand, twisting each wrist back and forth as if they were gears trying to connect), and that at some point on the trip would "do this" (proceeds to interlock the peace signs together, as if they were gears that finally connected).

Well on the hike out, after not seeing any animals during our stay, we pass through a massive rock canyon with an impressive echo. My friends have their fun yelling into it but I decide I wanted to hear what my gun sounded like with the echo.

They tell me not to shoot into the canyon itself as it was all rock and they were worried of a ricochet. I obliged and aimed down the trail we had just came from at a dirt hill. Being a bit drunk and belligerent I thought to myself "it's my f***ing gun, I'll shoot it where I want" and turned my aim back into the canyon and pulled the trigger as soon as I turned.

In the time I had looked away from the canyon, a huge Redtailed Hawk flew into it, and it flew directly in the path of my bullet. We all just stood there as the report rang loud through the canyon watching this hawk do a WWII plane style nosedive into the misty abyss. One of them turned to me and said "holy shit dude, your guys' souls did the thing" (proceeds to do the connecting of peace signed hands as if they were gears connecting).

I never meant to shoot that bird, I had no idea it was there. But I knew that somehow our souls would collide and that I would take its life. I knew it a week before it happened too.

Username: JustAGuyInACar

I’m a cancer patient and 4 years ago I had surgery to remove a 6cm tumor along my bile ducts within my liver. This involved removing a significant chunk of my liver, bile ducts, gallbladder and rerouting plumbing to have bile still flow within my digestive system (so instead of going through non existent bile ducts into a non existent gallbladder, it now flows straight into the duodenum at the top of the small intestine).

Five days later that new “plumbing” failed leading to an internal bile leak and I developed an infection leading to severe sepsis. I was rushed into emergency surgery to remove what remained of the plumbing, and to clear the infection, nearly dying in the OR.

They put in an external biliary drain bag to drain excess bile and said I’d likely need a third surgery in the future to attempt the procedure again, but in the meantime I’d have to keep the external drain bag. A

s far as the procedure failing, my surgeon (who was at the time the chief of multi organ transplant surgery at a major hospital in a big city) said he’d never seen that happen in someone before who hadn’t undergone years of chemo (I hadn’t, surgery was my first line) and certainly not in someone my age, 37 at the time. (Typical onset of this cancer is into one’s 60s).

Fast forward a couple of months to a post op appointment and the bay is no longer collecting any bile. We had a friend who is an oncology nurse confirm that it wasn’t clogged, so we’re confused and concerned. Talking with my surgeon at that appointment he seemed confused and concerned too.

He then let us know there was a small (minute?) chance that my body had remade that connection on its own which would mean I didn’t need that third surgery. Chances were slim (he was realistic) as he had only seen/heard it happening once, and that in a child whose body was still developing.

Three weeks later I get in for a CT scan and fluoroscopy with an Interventional radiologist. The radiologist comes into the room after the procedure and told me (as I was being unhooked from the vitals machines) that it looked to him like the connection was there and sent the imagery over to the surgeon to review.

Some days later my surgeon called my wife. He told her that the connection had indeed remade itself and that my digestive tract was functioning normally and I would t need that third surgery. He said that he was “speechless” and that there was “no medical or scientific explanation” as to why/how this happened in me. Our best guess was that it happened pretty quickly too, within about a month to six weeks after the surgeries.

I’d later find out that he called two former (and now retired) mentors from med school and his fellowship years, presented my case, and asked them if they’d ever seen it happen, and neither one of them had seen or heard of something like my case happening.

My current oncologist (we moved about six months later to be closer to family while I underwent treatment) has confirmed that what happened to me is a first for him. He’s Ivy League educated and considered an expert in this particular brand of cancer, and every other medical professional I’ve talked to about this are in disbelief with one (a friend) saying something to the effect of “...um, that doesn’t happen...”.

Username: LlewellynSinclair

I moved into my first apartment with my then wife. It was an older apartment, built in the 70’s but looked decent enough. It had a beautiful view of the lake, on the 3rd floor with only 2 short flights or stairs. It was a little shabby but we were elated just to have a place of our own.

We had just renewed the lease. We both work nights so we were sleeping during the daytime. At around 2 pm as I was sleeping I heard the loudest, and I mean THE LOUDEST, crash. I have 5 cats so my worst case scenario was that they dropped our new 55 inch plasma that was in the living room.

Turns out my entire, THE ENTIRE FUCKING LIVING ROOM CEILING HAS COLLAPSED. I’m panicked. I screamed for my wife. She was disoriented but I was frantic doing a count of my cats. 1 was missing. She wasted no time and dove into the rubble. Luckily she was safe under the couch. Everyone was good.

We yelled at the apartment company to give us a new place to live. They complied and within a few hours we were moved into another building, 1st floor, a “renovated apartment” with another absolutely amazing view of the lake.

By this time it was already almost Christmas. The Christmas trees were up, the snow was falling and the storms were brutal. So with the few things that survived the first ceiling collapse we tried our best to turn our “renovated apartment” into a cozy home.

Come Christmas Eve my wife and I were still pretty jumpy especially with the horrible storm outside. She asks that we bring all the cats, the presents and the tree into our bedroom. I comply cause happy wife = happy life. Thank GOD I listened because guess what? After about 1 hour after I put everyone inside I heard a bang.

I told my wife to stay put. I poked my head out and I saw that THE CEILING dipped and was going to collapse again. I told her that it’s happening again, get your shit let’s go. We did. But I really couldn’t believe it happened to me twice. TWO TIMES.

Username: Old_Bowl_9434

I once won the "Super Grand Prize" in Wendy's "Game Time Give Away." It was a Super Bowl promotion they ran back around 2020 or so. My brother, my girlfriend and I went through the drive through of a Wendy's one day because they were hungry. I didn't want anything until I got to window and smelled the french fries so I added a large fry at the last second to snack on during the drive home.

I finished the fries at a red light and peeled off the two little Prize tabs that were on the front of the fry box. The first one was good for a free large fry, so that was sweet, I got my money back at least. Then the second one just said "Congratulations! You've won the Super grand prize!

Call this number to claim your prize...." We freaked out and raced home to call the number on the little tab. Someone picked up almost immediately, Congratulated me again and explained the prize I won and got my personal info to mail me all the legal paperwork.

The prize was a 36 inch HD TV and surround sound system! This was back when HD tvs were brand new and cost thousands of dollars so I was stoked. After almost a year of mailing paperwork work back and forth and them having to substitute the prize for something else because the TV in the promotion wasn't available anymore the prize finally showed up one day.

A 64 inch RCA HD TV that retailed for over 8 grand at the time! No surrounded sound system. It just showed up on my doorstep one day out if the blue so I had to take a day off work to unbox it because it was a in a wooden air freight crate and get it all set up.

I loved that TV, I had it for years and wound up selling it for enough money to get a tattoo portrait of my son. Everyone always says those fast good give away games are rigged and nobody ever wins but I'm walking proof that those games are legit sometimes.

Username: JeffCogs80

I was at this work event a while ago. Mandatory fun and all that, but this one was at a pub, at least. We were all seated at this one long-ass table, sort of self-segregated by team, with me near one end of it. I was busy chatting away with my work buddies, with zero reason to go anywhere, when I overheard a girl speaking Spanish at the other end of the table.

Curious, I looked over to find the speaker was our new Chinese intern. As I came to find out later, she had done a foreign exchange program in Peru, and came to love the people and the culture, returning several times after the program was over to visit various places around the country. That day at the pub she was apparently showing off her newfound mastery of the Spanish language to another intern when I overheard them.

As it so happened, I too spoke pretty decent Spanish as my third language, owing to the fact that I had just gotten out of a long relationship with a Bolivian girl. In fact, we had been in Peru literally at the exact same time as The Intern, on our last trip together as a couple. We even went to the same places on the same days. A truly remarkable coincidence.

Needless to say, I omitted *some* of the details as I struck up a conversation. We talked all through the event, shared experiences as we drank a ton on the company’s dime, played shuffleboard and darts, and overall had a great time.

As the evening wound down, the massive crowded table we began with got winnowed down to just a booth with a half-dozen people, including myself, The Intern, and the other intern she was originally speaking to, who by this point was staring daggers into my soul, making it known with every fiber of his being that my continued presence was a most unwelcome development. Pretty sure he was supposed to be her ride home.

It was at this moment that I did the ballsiest thing in my entire life: I put down my drink, looked her straight in the eye and put my hand on her leg under the table. Just planted it solidly on her thigh, zero room for plausible deniability.

In hindsight, it was a *fantastically* stupid thing to do. The odds that I had simply misread the situation were stacked *astronomically* against me, and the punishment would come sharp and swift. I could visualize, with perfect clarity, the meeting I would be having first thing the next day: my manager on my right, the HR lady across the desk from me, as she politely yet tersely states that everyone present is of course familiar with the reasons for said meeting. No one would have to suffer the indignity of hearing it spelled out in passages from the employee handbook. Basically, good bye career.

And yet, I went for it because, god damn it, a coincidence that ridiculous had to mean *something*. Even a non-religious person has to recognize when the Universe is sending them a giant blinking neon sign. Long story short, we’ve been married for six years. Our daughter just turned two. What are the odds, eh?

Username: grumpy_hedgehog

This happened this past spring break. My wife and I surprised our kids (9 year old daughter and 5 year old son) with a trip to Florida to universal studios. It's our first day there. The kids are happy as happy can be. Both love Harry Potter and spent the morning having their minds blown in the wizarding world of Harry Potter. I'm father of the year.

Next up is a Secret Life of Pets performance. My son absolutely loved the move. We arrive early and secure a good spot to view the show. The show is great. It’s basically a couple floats with animatronic characters from the movie along with a few human performers who dance around the floats. Performance lasts maybe 10 minutes. Its fun. My son loves it. Once its over, my kids line up to take pictures with the characters and performers.

Then it happens. My kids are posing with 5 performers while my wife and I are busy snapping photos with our phones. Suddenly, two of the dancers start running out of the frame of our photos. A second later, my daughter burst out into tears!

A few seconds after that, I notice a big, stinky catfish lying on the ground 3 feet in front of my kids. The dancers who took off had noticed a bird carrying the fish in its talons. The bird had been flying low and lost its grip on the fish and it landed right on my daughter’s head!

Needless to say, she was no longer very happy. The fish left a putrid mixture of slime and scales in her hair and shirt. The smell was just rancid and she had a pounding headache.

Kid was a trooper. Initially she had no intention of ever stepping foot in the park again (due to a mixture of fear and embarrassment) but she discovered her patronus and gained the courage to make her return!

Username: tfc321

I've been in 2 cars that caught fire. First time was when my husband was stationed in LA. We were driving to New Orleans for a vacation. My husband's car was a '67 Chevelle. We're driving along, just about to hit Baton Rouge, when a car pulls up along side of us. They start yelling and waving and stupid us think they're just kidding around. I did however tell my husband to pull over just in case. I got out of the car, turned towards the back of it and the rear end was on fire. They were trying to tell us we were on fire! Car made it, but we never got to New Orleans.

The second time, was a few years later. We'd moved back home to MN and I was leaving work. It was in Dec., a really cold night and my Brother's Birthday. It's about 7 PM and I'm getting ready to drive over to my Mom's place for my Brother's party. Had just put his cake on the passenger seat.

I was driving an 80's DIESEL Jetta. Before you actually start a diesel, you have to glow the plugs. So, I turn the key to do just that. Then I remembered I'd forgotten something in the store, so I ran back in. A minute later there's a page saying "There's a light blue car in the parking lot that's on fire." I'm like, Wow. I'd hate to be that person.

Got my stuff, and walk out the door to see it's MY CAR on fire! The entire front seat was burned to sown to the metal. I was sitting there just a few minutes earlier. That's the only part of the car that burned. We had one payment left on it.

I cried, I called my FIL and bitched him out because he was the one that said DIESEL is SOOOO wonderful and talked my husband into buying it. We ended up selling the engine for parts. NEVER bought another VW or DIESEL ever again!

Username: Ihavefluffycats

I woke up early and went to the bathroom, walking through the woods to get there. Ok. Yeah, I should have watched where I was walking better. I’ll give you that one. But it was camouflaged pretty well and kinda dark. Bear shit was the last thing I expected.

Upon exclaiming “bear shit!” I was immediately told it was a sign of good luck in the Native American tribe the park supervisor was, at Plumas Eureka State Park in California where I met and married my husband 8 years later.

Later that day as I was helping the little ones stock the stream, I stepped slightly off the path we were using so the kiddos could go by with their floppy buckets of fish and BAM! Back in the bear shit only this time I had sandals on. Different place entirely.

Double good luck? Didn’t feel like it. It felt like..well it felt like shit. So the next day my husband and I go for a hike up to a lake and it’s very secluded so we find a nice cozy little spot in the woods. It was all compressed and super comfy. So we um, “celebrated” our nuptials, shall we say? And when we were done we were lying there and heard something.

We thought it was humans so we quickly got ready to leave. But as we did we noticed things around we hadn’t noticed before, namely, bones and large scratch marks on trees and the bed we were in was LITERALLY a bed.

It was the bear’s bed, and HE is the one who was going through the woods toward us. We watched from far away and he was sniffing his stuff and I was convinced he’d smell us and come for us. But he didn’t. It was hot and he laid down and we left.

So that’s how I got married, stepped in bear shit, twice, and then had sex in that bear’s own bed. Good times. Double good luck.

Username: wwitchiepoo

When I was a little kid my family went fishing at a lake on my grandparents farm. When I cast my line the wire got caught in a tree that was right above me and I don’t remember but either when I originally cast the line or when I was trying to tug it out of the tree—somehow the fishing hook on the line had actually literally gone through my eyelid.

Yes, for real. I hooked my eye. Technically my eyelid. I was really young and I didn’t even know I had done that until my mom who was nearby saw me and my mom is an ER nurse. I’ll never forget it even though I was so little but my mom who never gets worried about anything immediately got this very serious look on her face and grabbed my hands. Forcing me to not pull on the line that was literally caught on my eye anymore.

And she cut the line and she picked me up and RAN with me all the way back to the house, which BTW was a long distance. My grandparents lived out in the middle of no where. My dad, grandparents had all gone running back to the house too. They were all shouting to one another and I began crying on the way back too.

My mom set me down on the kitchen table and it was horrible then because I became aware by then what was going on. But thank God my mom was an ER nurse. They didn’t have much choice but to deal with it themselves. And basically my mom very carefully pulled out the hook.

And I would say it was a miracle because somehow the hook ONLY got my eyelid and that’s it. But the eyelid was fine too, and healed completely. My eye was perfectly fine too. And once the hook was out I was completely A-Okay. So yeah, this did really happen and yeah it has to be astronomical odds.

Username: acooper0045

I was rock climbing as a teen and got stuck at the top of a route without the right piece of gear for coming down—a quick draw*. In a tight spot you can make due with something else like a beaner but I didn’t even have that.

The situation so far wasn’t too unusual. My friends and I couldn’t afford enough of the right gear. We’d try to predict if we had enough before starting and often misjudged. But this was a particularly bad misjudgement because down climbing the last sections was beyond my skill and the alternative was falling quite far and probably swinging sideways into a cliff face. I was exhausted and a bit freaked out.

I yelled down to my friend that I needed a quick draw. He screamed up “What?” I got louder and said, “I DON’T HAVE ANY QUICK...” halfway through shouting a quick draw fell into my arms and I scrambled to catch it almost dropping it.

It wasn’t one of mine. I looked up and could see and hear nothing or no one. I used it and got down. Some while later two climbers walk by asking if we had seen a quick draw they had dropped while doing a longer route that crossed above the spot we were climbing. They would have been 150-250 feet above us. It was not a popular route in those days (about 2003) and I doubt people climbed it more than once a week in the summer.

People drop gear but it’s pretty rare. In 24 years I’ve done it twice maybe? That they dropped the gear I needed, when I needed it, and it somehow fell from so far above to actually hit me? It’s improbable on an astronomical scale.

*You place quick draws into into the bolts to prevent falls, they are also important for getting down from the top on anchored sport routes.

Username: 4tomicZ

I spent all of my 20’s traveling by hopping freight trains and hitchhiking. In 2015 I was heading west out of North Little Rock, AR. After waiting behind a church for about an hour I finally had a westbound, general manifest (random assortment of cars) train pull up and stop. It’s worth noting that this train was empty.

I climbed on the porch of a grain car facing east with an oiler behind me. As soon as the train started moving I grabbed a loaded pipe from my pocket and lit a celebratory bowl of weed. The train is going roughly 5-7mph at this time.

All of a sudden, and in less than a second I heard the loudest BOOM I had ever heard. Simultaneously, there was a blinding flash of light over my right shoulder and I dropped everything in my hands. I felt the whole train shake like a dog’s tail and thought for sure that it was about to derail and I was going to be crushed.

The train righted itself and I hopped off right before it screeched to a stop. Up the tracks I saw an overturned car with its front end being crinkled little by little as the train was coming to a stop. In the spirit of keeping this relatively short: some drunk guy had caused an accident and fled up the street. He missed an almost 90 degree curve and flew off an embankment straight into the car ahead of me.

Some random pedestrian and I pulled the guy out, but he was hurt pretty bad and I have no idea what happened to him. The cops got there and shoo’d me along before the train cops got there. All this being said: I’ve never met another person who was in a train vs. car accident as a stowaway on the train side. It’s at least my best train story.

Username: hotdoginthebigcity

Was born. I’m one of five kids. First was a “preemie” (parents married in May, 9lb baby born in October). Second child was created despite using the “rhythm method”. He was born in their bathroom after mom went into labor at home in the middle of the night.

Third child was created despite an IUD. She willingly chose to go natural birth/no meds for this one too since she said she felt better after baby two without all the meds. Her doctor had his students observe. Baby three was over 10 lbs. All of my brothers are 14 months apart.

My dad finally got a vasectomy at some point and apparently didn’t get himself tested because mom ended up pregnant a fourth time. She didn’t know how far along she was but she was huge and uncomfortable so the doctor decided to induce her. (She was a pro by then.)

Some important sporting event was happening that day so the doc said he’d be back after giving my mom the meds to induce her. Well my fertile momma didn’t need to wait. She and the nurse ended up delivering me. I was 3.5 pounds.

The doctor comes rushing in, apologizing for missing the birth, when the nurse says, “we saved one for you.” Turns out mom wasn’t past due but was pregnant with twins! My sis was born 13 minutes after me. She was also 3.5 pounds. (We’re 2.5 years younger than the youngest brother.)

I was born at the end of 1973, the year abortion was legalized. My mom was exhausted from the three boys and I think she was personally against abortion but I do think of myself as lucky to have been born with no serious health complications and frankly, to have been conceived and born at all.

Username: Miss_Fritter