rSlash - r/Entitledparents rSlash Has A Real Encounter With a Karen!

Episode Date: September 1, 2020

r/Entitledparents Guess what guys... I HAD A REAL LIFE ENCOUNTER WITH A MALE KAREN! I had to go get a document notarized, and one of the customers had a mini freak out and was saying very inappropriate things to a minor who was working behind the counter with (I think) her dad or uncle. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! This guy was insane! If you like this video, subscribe for more daily Reddit content! 🔔 Subscribe: https://bit.ly/2E3A8i6 💬 Discord: https://discord.gg/VD6eYD3 🎧 Podcast: https://link.chtbl.com/rslash ⚓ Send me a voice message: https://anchor.fm/rslash 📸 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rslashyt/ ♪ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@rslash0 🛒 Merch: http://bit.ly/rSlashMerch 🎁 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/rslash Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Please play responsible. Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash Entitled Parents. Our next Reddit post is from Sloppy Ice Cream. I had served in both the regular army and special operation forces community for just over 10 years when an opportunity rose. It was an assignment in the middle of nowhere, but it was near my hometown. I would later find out that the job was horrible, but that has nothing to do with the story. We'd been in small town USA for a couple of months. We were pretty much settled in.

My wife and I were not exactly prepared mentally though. Both sets of grandparents, specifically grandmas, had been away from their grandchildren since they were born. They were like flies at the house for the first couple of months. That was finally starting to subside when this happened. I should mention that my mom is different, at least I think she is. I've always been the independent type, and I rarely, if ever, call home. It's not because I don't love my parents or friends. I just don't feel the need to talk unless I really have something to say. I feel less of a need to call my mother. Generally speaking,

just don't expect a phone call from me. Why? She's scattered and typically has nothing useful to say. She likes to gossip, but she's the lady in the chain of gossipers who twists information and relays the wrong facts or tries to convince me of things. Here's a typical conversation between my mother and me. Hello? Hey, what are you doing? Nothing. Remember Jim Bob? No. Yeah, you do. You went to the pool with him once when you were six months old when we lived in Germany. Sorry, mom. I don't remember Jimbub.

Yeah, you do. No, mom. I don't remember him. Well, he died. I thought you would want to know. Dear reader, this happens all the time. I've spoken on the phone with her no more than 20 times in the last decade, and at least 10 people I don't know have died.

It's unrelated, but this is our last conversation. Hello? Hi, you sound sleepy. What are you doing? Sleeping. Midday nap? No, it's two in the morning. I'm sleeping.

Oh, P. What country are you in? Lebanon. What are you in? Lebanon? What are you doing there? Army work. I called it tell you that the random lady he used to watch you wrestle in high school passed away. Just thought you would want to know.

Love you. Bye. Anyways, back to small town USA. It's a Saturday. I'm looking forward to having some time off. My wife was a swing shift ICU nurse at the time, and she was at work. I was at home with my two-year-old and six-year-old. It was just a minute in the house.

I'd woken up, fed the humans, plopped them down in the living room to watch Paul patrol while I took a shower. I cleaned the army essentials, feet, balls, and butt, and returned feeling refreshed from the shower. I conduct another inventory, but something is missing. My two-year-old is missing. He's a bipedal monster, so I don't think much of it. I asked a six-year-old where his brother is, and I get a typical shoulder-shock response. Great. I now have 3,200 square feet of house to work with. I'll systematically check the house, either finding him in his room watching TV or exploring the cleaning products under the sink.

The first sweep was unsuccessful. The second sweep was unsuccessful. I now enlist the help of my older son to find the speed demon. We're now 10 sweeps in and I'm panicking. I've talked to my wife many times on my phone and we've had the lost conversation. Babe, I lost my car keys. Do you know where they conversation. Babe, I lost my car keys. Do you know where they are? Babe, I lost my army thing.

Do you know where it is? No husband ever wants to call their wife and say, babe, you know that bipedal toddler we have? Yeah, that one. The house we lived in was old. The locks on some of the doors were different. Very old and some were complicated to open. My youngest couldn't

penetrate the front door. It just wasn't physically possible. This dude is Houdini. He was an escape artist. I was at my wit's end. I had to call my wife. The conversation went exactly how anyone would expect it to go. She was worried, she was hysterical. There was no way I would ever hold that number one dad coffee mug ever again. I did one last sweep on the direction of my wife, but it was now time to hand in my parent card and call the police. 911, what's your emergency? I lost my son. Sir, you lost your child? Yeah, I took a shower and now my two-year-old is missing. I checked the house and he's not here. What's your location, sir?

I give my address. What's your son wearing? A Thomas the Tank Engine shirt, it's blue and a diaper. Where'd you last see him? As a quick aside, I have a large bay window. Very large. Something caught my eye. The reflection of sunlight that bounces off of cars screams through my window when Very large. Something caught my eye. The reflection of sunlight that bounces off

of cars screams through my window when they pass or park. A car had just parked in front of my house. It was my mother. Great. I'm now about to have a mom conversation and this is how it would play out in my head. And for context, this is a conversation that OP is having in his head. It didn't actually happen. Hey mom, hey, remember that toddler I had? Yeah, well, I lost them. Bye. I'm dreading the fact that I have 911 on the line, and I'm about to tell my mother the dreaded news. Then I see it.

What was it? It was my son, my effing toddler. I kindly explained to 911 that I had found my human. Now, I was only a bad father in the eyes of my wife and the entire dispatch center. I was seething with anger. I'm a happy-go-lucky guy, super calm, even in fire fights. I simply don't stress out about much. This was not the case. I go charging out of the house. What in the after you think you're doing? Well, I just went to the grocery store.

With my child, you took my child. Yeah, I stopped by and asked the boys wanted to go and your younger son did. You effing stole my kid, mom. You stole my kid. No, I didn't. I asked. Your youngest son wanted to go. Your older son didn't. I told him to tell you. Side note. Paw Patrol is like a transfer your kids. The freaking rapture could happen around kids while watching cartoons and they're unaware.

God effing forbid the cable goes out though. Then the real chaos starts. I'm a war fighter with 14 combat deployments. I've said, Daddy doesn't want to watch Barney for the 20th time today exactly once. There are some fights that are just not worth it. You told my older son, you told my six year old to relay a message to me, you thought that would work? Did you make that message contingent on a toy because he didn't know where his brother was? Well I told him, Mom, you stole my kid.

Then she effing said it. I'm grandma, I can take him. Mom, you stole my kid. Oh, I just took him. It's not called took, it's called kidnapping. Oh, I just took him. It's not called took. It's called kidnapping. Oh, I didn't kidnap him. You walked into the house, asked two children if they wanted to go. Told one to relay a message to me. Why did you not ask her to tell me? I screamed up. I thought you knew. I lost my cool. It went on and on with her trying to convince me of her point.

I was not having it. I was beyond mad. I called my dad to get his opinion and he just laughed. He said, Grandma is trouble. She was leaving anyways. I couldn't get her out. It didn't even concern her mentally. She was oblivious to the gravity and severity of the situation. I wasn't done yet, though. Metrolinx and cross links are reminding everyone to be careful as Eglinton Cross-Town LRT train testing is in progress. Please be alert, this trains can pass at any time on the tracks.

Remember to follow all traffic signals. Be careful along our tracks and only make left turns where it's safe to do so. Be alert, be aware, and stay safe. This is just the beginning. Stream the complete Dutton Legacy 1883, 1923, and all seasons of Yellowstone. I love Montana, but I'm doing this far family. Paramount Plus, the streaming home of Yellowstone. I love Montana but I'm doing this far family. Paramount Plus, the streaming home of Yellowstone. It just so happened that this specific weekend was a four day weekend for me.

I had the next two days off with the boys. My mom was unaware. She called on Sunday and asked what time I was dropping the boys off. Ding, a light bulb moment. We had just adopted a new dog that was crate training. Let's capitalize on this. Do you think you can watch the boys at the house so you can take Lola out? I don't wonder in the cage all day. Sure, I can do that. Now, my mom would be at my house from around 0600 hours to 1900 hours. Even better. My dad would be at work as well. My mom arrived at the house, still oblivious that I was angry. No worries.

I now have 12 hours to work out my frustration. I depart the house and promptly arrive at her house. I find the spare key and let myself in. I reorganize everything. I mean everything. It didn't take long to do the living room. I moved the couch, I moved the love seat, I moved my father's chair, the coffee table, the TV, everything gets rearranged. I even moved pictures from wall to wall and used sticky-tack to hang them upside down or wonky.

Moving into a new place can be a hassle during military moves. I love cooking. The kitchen and wood shop were my sanctuaries. It was such a pain in the butts move into a new kitchen and get things where you want them. What's not a pain? Reorganizing someone's kitchen. Everything from top to bottom was reorganized. The powder room was close to the kitchen, so I put plates under the sink in the powder room and toilet paper in the kitchen drawers. Again, everything was moved. I worked my way through the house, ensuring that nothing was left untouched. The only room I didn't enter was the master bedroom. I'm one of three siblings, which means they've gone at it three times in my brain.

I wasn't interested or mentally willing to screw with that room. I did, however, take great pride in her cricket room to ensure that I moved everything. My last act of FU in the house was taking every single remote in the house. TV, DVR, cable, lights, you name it. If it was a remote, it was now in my possession. I then returned home in a normal time. The change ever was typical. She asked me how my day was, and let me tell you, it was a satisfying day of work for me. She acted as if the kidnapping event never happened. Well, she was about to be reminded that I didn't forget. It was time to crack a beer, play with the boys and wait for that phone call.

Were you at the house today? What? Did you stop by the house today? I think we were robbed. Yes, I stopped by the house. You re-iramed the living room? I hear my dad talking as he enters the house. What the? Huh?

Carla, what the heck did you do at the house? I didn't do it. Oh, P did. She's a blibbiest still. She laughs a bit and we conclude the conversation. How I'm baffled. Oh well. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP Wearing the hell are my potton pans?

There's toilet paper into the kitchen sink. Toilet paper does not go there. God dang it, OP! Where's the remote, Carla? I hoped everything back up. I just moved it. Things still worked. Carla!

Remote! My mother is now walking through the house. back up, I just moved it. Things still worked. Carla, remote! My mother is now walking through the house. She arrives in her arts and crafts cricket room. Oh, P, what the hell did you do? I reorganized everything for you. Oh, my God. Carla, where's the remote for the TV? Where are the remotes?

Oh, I took them. I called out your name. I thought you heard me. She now explodes at my father. Now there's hysterical laughter in the background. I'm on my way over. She arrived at the house. I'm willing to break bread and settle this under one condition. All you have to do is say that you're sorry for kidnapping my child and you won't

ever do it again. I didn't. Uh-uh-uh. You want the remotes back? I'm sorry for kidnapping your son and I will never do it again. Thank you. What time are you dropping off the boys tomorrow? Oh, I think you should come here and tell you figure out where your pots and pans are.

See you at 6th. Love you. Bye. And that's that. Military life is different. Really different. I never thought in a million years I would live in my hometown and still be in the army. It was great at times. I was totally not expecting all the things that come with living in my hometown after being away for over a decade. The grandparents wanted to make up for years of not seeing them, and they did.

There were obviously some learning struggles. Carla admitted defeat, and my dad eventually got his remotes back. Everybody won. She's still an absolutely crazy lady. I love her, but boy is she different. I, R-Slash, just witnessed a real life encounter with a male Karen. I had to get a document noterized, so me and my wife went to a local noterie place. We entered the building and there's two people behind the counter, a guy and a much younger

girl. Now keep in mind that everyone in this story is wearing a mask so it's admittedly a little bit difficult to tell how old someone is, but at first glance I would guess the girl's probably middle school age. Anyway I step up to the adult male behind the counter and I go through the process of getting my documents notarized. And as I'm doing this, another guy enters the building and walks up to the girl behind the counter. And at this point, we've probably only been there for like 60 seconds, so the guy who came

in after us was there for at most 30 seconds. And the girl comes over to the guy to ask him a question. It was something about how she couldn't locate the box that was supposed to be delivered. I don't know why, but for some reason, this completely set off this other customer. He just immediately starts getting angry and yelling at the two of them.

Man, what's the issue with finding this box? I scheduled a box delivery at this time and I'm here, so give me my box. And the guys like, sir, we're happy to get you the box, but we give me my box. And the guys like, sir, we're happy to get you the box, but we need your box number. And the guys like, man, I don't know my box number, how am I supposed to know my box number? Me and my wife kind of just share a glance at each other and the other guys like, sir, how are we supposed to find your box if we

don't know what the box is? At that point, the guy and the girl start talking to each other, obviously to try to resolve this guy's issue, and then this guy gets even angrier. He says, and this is actually as close as an exact quote as I can get. Come on baby, don't talk to him, come over here and talk to me baby. I'm the one who needs a box, not him.

So come on over here baby. And the guy who was helping me behind the cash register was like, sir, you don't need to be talking to her like that. She's 12. And then this guy goes, man, I'll talk to her however I want. So come on up here and help me baby. And the guy stops her and kind of says under his breath to her. Nah, don't do that.

I'll handle this after I'm done with these two. So, this little girl just kinda hangs out next to this older guy and she actually moves around him so that this guy behind the cashier is actually in between her and this rude customer. And at this point, it's very clear to me that this guy is just trying to wrap up his service to me so he can get this other guy out of his store as quickly as possible. But, for whatever reason, waiting 60 seconds was too much for this guy. Now, keep in mind that at this point,

this guy's been here for like a maximum of one minute tops. But he gets super impatient and starts mumbling things about his box. Like, man, I don't understand what the issue is. I scheduled the box pick up. Why can't you people just give me my box? And the guy helping me just kind of ignores the guy and focuses on wrapping my stuff up, and the entitled dude just leaves. I still don't know why he left because based on the conversation I heard, those people still have his box, so he's gonna have to come back anyways. Anyways,

that was the whole story, I wish I had more, but the guy finished notarizing my documents so my wife and I just left. But here's a pro tip for all you people out there. If you ever want to get good service at a business, try not to make condescending sexual remarks to people who are 12 years old. Also you guys might like to know that after the guy left, but before my wife and I left, I told the people that that guy was a complete butthole and they did nothing wrong. The guy behind the cashier apologized to me, but I'm like, man, you don't need to apologize. That guy was a total douchebag. That was our slash entitled parents, and this is our slash puppy bloopers. What's up pooch? What's up pooch?

What's that puppy? Kind of recording right now. Yeah, I'm recording. Which what's that puppy kind of recording right now? Yeah, I'm recording Puppy got to do work. I got to do work Is okay with you if I work puppy puppy dog puppy dog Can I work

No play time is it play time all right? Let me ask you one last time is it work time or is it play time? All right, all right, all right, please I'm it is let's go play.