rSlash - r/Confessions I'm Stalking a Child

Episode Date: July 27, 2025

0:00 Intro 0:10 Grand larceny 3:12 Faked pregnant 5:23 Clapton 7:23 Comment 8:22 Coke 10:45 Comment 11:08 Car accident 12:28 Comment 13:33 Money Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to r slash confessions, where OP commits grand larceny at work and steals about $20,000. Our next reddit post is from Psychological Log. 23 years ago, I was an assistant manager at a small chain clothing store in the mall. I made $11 bucks an hour, lived on my own, and I was so poor that I had to eat dinner from food court handouts when the mall closed each night. One morning, I show up to open the store and some weird old dude was waiting outside. My manager calls a few minutes later and tells me the guy is from the liquidation service and our company is going out of business. The discount signage goes up.

Going out of business, final days, etc. This guy explains the tier discount system, from 20% off down to 75% off over the course of the month until we close. So a couple of things happen. First, all of us employees grab all the clothes we really want, pack it up in boxes and hide it in the back room. The corporate warehouse still had inventory, so we were receiving tons of new merch for the first few weeks.

We just boxed up the stuff we wanted and hit it. We had the back room, and also a second storage room in the bowels of the mall that the liquidation guy didn't know about. Second, the larceny. I can't get fired, and being arrested never crossed my mind. I start selling clothes for cash, which goes straight into my pocket. I started with my regular customers. Grab whatever they want, bring it to the register, I make up a number with an ultra discount.

I pocket the cash, everyone's happy. I started pretty modestly, maybe only three customers a day. I went home with about $500. The Liquidator rep had to cover three stores, so we weren't being being watched very closely over the course of that week. I became bolder It was so easy and at the time this was a huge amount of money for me I'd leave with like five hundred to a thousand bucks per day. I Couldn't stop needless to say my associates caught on so to protect myself Needless to say, my associates caught on, so to protect myself, I included them. At the end of the shift, I would break them off a few hundred each, and everyone went home happy.

This went on for six weeks or so until the store closed. The last day, the liquidator said that every item was one dollar, so we only had a couple of racks left with some pretty awful stuff. So back to all that merch that we hid away. We called in all the employees that had boxes hidden away and we rang ourselves up for $1 a box. It was a fantastic run. I pocketed over $20,000 and had a couple of closets full of new clothes. As we locked up for the last time, the liquidator guy let us know that he had caught on some time back, but just didn't care. Also, I don't think he really knew the scale of the operation.

Being so broke at the time, I didn't even consider the consequences of being caught. My guess is that the liquidator didn't care because he was probably skimming off the top too. He probably just wanted to let you know that he had caught on as like a last-minute ego boost. Like, you think you're smart, but I'm smarter. Our next Reddit post is from WarmPerformance. I lived with my boyfriend for four years. We went back and forth about marriage.

He finally proposed, only to back out a few weeks later. I broke up with him and moved back to my home state, four thousand miles away. Three months later, he called. He says he missed me, still loved me, regretted canceling our engagement and proposed again. Skeptical at first, we spoke for seven hours and he convinced me that he was ready to get married. I told him we'd sleep on it. I'd call him the next day and if he meant it, he'd answer the phone. If not, he wouldn't. He answered, and we set a wedding date for six weeks. I started to make plans, only to have him go radio silent. After two weeks, he finally admitted that

he wasn't ready again and called it off. Four years later, I get a call out of the blue. He's in my city on business. Can we get together? What the hell? I'm over him, so why not? We met for a drink and caught up. I asked him what happened when he canceled our agreement. He said he always regretted that and wanted to call me to apologize, but he was afraid. Despite that, he never stopped loving me and he said that canceling was biggest regret, and that he never got to have a child with me.

He'd always wanted a son. At that moment, something snapped in me. I told him that I was pregnant when I left him. That I was still pregnant the night that he called to propose, but I didn't want him to marry me just because of that, so I didn't tell him. And when he finally broke up with me, I decided to put the baby up for adoption. Unfortunately, later that night, I suffered a miscarriage. It was a boy.

He left the table, visibly ill. I'd lied to him. There was no pregnancy. I wanted to hurt him as much as he'd hurt me. I never planned to do it. The thought never crossed my mind. I just snapped knowing that being the cause of my losing his son would devastate him. I never saw him again and never told him the truth. Yeah, that's pretty brutal revenge, but I can get behind it.

Our next reddit post is from NoBlueJay. When I was 18, fresh out of high school many years ago, my dad got me into his union. We worked together every day. We didn't have a great relationship to begin with, but the money was good and I had nothing else going on at the time, so I made the best of the situation. My dad is a big Eric Clapton fan. I dig his early stuff like cream and blind faith, but my dad loves all of his work. My dad went out and bought a cassette tape of Slow Hand.

My dad played that damn thing every day, at least twice a day. And he didn't just listen to it, he sang along. And there was some air guitar thrown in and some steering wheel drumming as well. The album started with the song The Core and every time it came on he'd get all excited. Like we hadn't listened to it 24 effing times that week already. It was a completely intolerable situation. But I was trapped. What could I do? Well one day around lunchtime we stopped at a bodega in the Bronx for lunch. We pulled

up in front of the place and my dad went in to get some food. I sat in the front passenger seat staring at that cassette tape, knowing when he came out, he'd put it back on because he hadn't played it since 9am. I turned my head away in disgust. And there was the solution to my problem. A garbage can right next to my passenger door. I didn't hesitate. I tossed the tape right in. Sure enough, right after lunch, my dad just had to listen to cocaine, but he couldn't find the tape.

He had me tear that car apart. Inwardly I laughed as I feigned ignorance as to its whereabouts. I don't know, dad. I lied as I dug through the glove box. Last time I saw it, you were holding it. I finally told him about 20 years later. While I am sorry for my actions, I still hate that f-ing album. Down in the comments we have this story from Playful Assistance.

For Christmas in 1996, I got a Nintendo 64 and a copy of Super Mario 64 and a CD of the Super Mario 64 soundtrack. When I wasn't playing the game, I had this soundtrack playing in my room on loop. Around mid-February 1997, which is just two months later, my dad was in the kitchen making dinner and I was in my room playing on my computer with the soundtrack background playing on loop like always. Suddenly my door opened and I saw my dad standing there with a funny look on his face. He reached over to the stereo on my dresser, hit the door eject button, grabbed the still spinning CD, then looked me in the eyes. I'm sorry. I can't

take it anymore, he said, then snapped the disc in half. I'll buy you another one in two weeks. I need the piece. Our next Reddit post is from Nobe. Alright, I need to know, do you think this is morally acceptable? I'm in my 20s and have struggled with depression and ADHD for a super long time. I finally agreed to see a psychiatrist that my parents recommended. He charged us like a ton of money because he didn't accept our insurance. Anyway, I saw him in person for like 4-5 times. I was out at an event in our town where there was a band playing and everyone was dancing.

I was drinking beers with my friend when we saw him. Whoa, that's like my therapist or whatever, I say to my friend. Oh well, who cares, she says, and goes off in front of me to dance. Suddenly, one of the therapist's friends is dancing with my friend, and the therapist appears closer with some other guys. How do I know you? The psychiatrist turns to ask me as we watch my friend start to get low. Are you guys and girls from that party last night?

Yeah, I sorta joked just going along with this. My friend returns with the guy. Dude, they were at the party last night! Keegan's crazy, isn't he? Do you guys want some blow? My therapist pulls out a baggie of coke before we can even confirm. My friend is drunk and wants to do it, and so we go near the restrooms about a couple of steps to the right of us. While my friend is doing the coke, my therapist looks at me and asks me if I want some. I say, no, I'm good. I don't do coke. It makes me depressed and stuff.

I hoped this would trigger his memory. He grabs the bag from my friend's hand and sticks his car key inside and pulls it to his nose. He takes a huge sniff and says, you know, I'm a psych. You could talk to me about that. I nearly died inside. This is the first person I ever spoke with about my mental health. This is the guy who told me that my ex-boyfriend was a sex addict while he's out here doing lines with girls that

look pretty young and are drunk. I don't know. I know everyone's a person who likes to screw and party, but is this messed up? Or is this just like, man, you have a psychiatrist who does sniff? Well, OP, how do you think he got to be such an expert on sex addicts? By being one himself, of course! Then we have this post in the comments from Mitt Romney's underwear. I don't know if this story is real or not, but oh my god, it reminds me of the time that I injured my dick from gooning too much.

So I went to a doctor and showed him, and he messaged me on Grindr about a half hour after I left his office. He wrote, Hi. Also, my face was visible in the profile. Our next Reddit post is from AnyReward. About four years ago, I witnessed a car accident. A 16-year-old kid was pinned under the car and his backpack was preventing him from breathing.

I, a construction worker, took my utility knife, crawled under the car, cut his backpack straps, removed his backpack, and pulled him out. I thought at the time that he was dead. He was unresponsive and covered in blood and bruises. First responders arrived. I was wet and freezing. I'm wearing nothing but a t-shirt.

They resuscitated the kid before my eyes, and I broke into tears of joy. I asked for the kid's name after the fact, but they wouldn't tell me because he was a minor. Later on through the news, I found out his name, and I've kept watch ever since through social media. I honestly feel a deep connection with the kid. I think of him as a son, and I would honestly do anything for him. It's always made me feel like a creep

doing so. At the time, I had to create a fake Facebook account pretending to be a minor. Otherwise, as an adult, you can't have access to the profiles of underage people. Honestly, just saying this makes me cringe. It's sickening. I just needed to know that he was doing well. Down in the comments we have a story from the other perspective. Petzen Meditate says, I was in a horrific crash several years ago when I was 22 and a deer crashed through the windshield of my car at 60 mph and proceeded to kick me in the head several times before it died. My car veered into the trees and the deer knocked me out. I woke up to someone holding my head, a stranger, and they let me use their phone to call my mom. The cops came, paramedics came, fire trucks

came. Then a helicopter came to take me to the level 1 trauma unit. I wish I had some way of contacting the strangers that helped me, and I've been trying for years to think of a way. So, OP, I don't think you should beat yourself up too much over the fact that you've been kind of stalking this kid because it's not like malicious, it's just, you know, you're worried about the guy. You had a random life-changing encounter and I think it's natural to be curious. So I guess it's some level of inappropriate, but pretty low on the scale in my opinion. Don't beat yourself up, OP. Our next Reddit post is from Deleted.

At the start of high school, I was pretty broke, as many high school kids are. To gain more freedom, I worked hard to start my career as a 3D artist, and I was making a couple hundred every few weeks at best during most of high school. Even with how little I made compared to how hard I worked, my mom and stepdad would pressure me to chip in for the groceries and mortgage payments. Keep in mind, we aren't poor or anything, we were middle class, and they just wanted more financial freedom for themselves so they could consistently go on luxury vacations. I also have a few siblings who, at that point,

were in the later years of high school, whom my parents also did the bare minimum for. Not bad enough to where it's child neglect, but definitely not great parenting, considering none of us could focus on our studies while having to work. The creative industry is difficult and unforgiving, and I put blood, sweat, and tears into my work to get where I am at this age.

I'm not going to let them pressure me into making any big contributions to their finances so they can keep going on excessive vacationing sprees. Only me and my girlfriend know how much I really make. I've been saving tens of thousands of dollars without anyone else around me knowing. One day they'll find out how much I have, but for now I'll bide my time and take advantage of as little financial burden as possible. Once they do, I'll simply move out and be done with them. Super smart advice. One of the impulses that people have when they have money is to flex their wealth and buy watches and cars and, you know, fancy bags and all that stuff.

But when you get money, don't tell anyone. The consequences of telling people is not worth the five seconds of the ego boost. That was r slash confessions. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.