rSlash - r/TIFU by Accidentally Building a Bomb

Episode Date: May 5, 2022

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Welcome to R-slash Today I F-Dup, where OP accidentally builds a bomb. Today I F-Dup by almost killing my roommates with a can of soda. Back when I was a young Buck in college, I enjoyed the occasional soda. So I was in my shared apartment, lounging around, when I had an inkling to have myself a coke. I go to the kitchen and pull a can out of the fridge. This refrigerator didn't ever seem to really know the difference between fridge temps and freezer temps. So it was kind of random what you might end up with. And on this particular day, I hit the reverse lottery

and found myself holding a frozen can of coke. But I wanted a coke and I wanted it now. No worries, what I needed was some quick heed, and conveniently located next to the fridge was a stove. I should note that I excel in situations like this, because in no time at all I'd whipped out a pot, some water, some blazing high flame, and in the middle of it all, one soon to be unfrozen can of soda. Plan in place and executed perfectly, I went back to the living room to watch them TV. It's really kind of up for debate whether subconsciously I knew it would be a good idea to be anywhere

but that kitchen because the bomb, as they say, had been lit. From here, I don't really have a conception of how much time passed. Two minutes, ten? However long it was, my world was quickly punctuated by a literal explosion. I had no idea what happened. A gas leak, a plane crash, I jumped to the floor to avoid doom. Very quickly thereafter, and while I'm still on the ground, my roommates came running into the living room. What the f was that? My senses slowly came back to me, and it kind of dawned on me that this may have all been caused by my idea to basically light pressurize carbonation on fire. We run into the kitchen, and to this day I still can't believe what it looked like. There was soda, sticky, sticky soda, everywhere, but where was the can?

The can was just gone. Bits of aluminum had been blasted into the walls, the ceiling, full metal shards, literally half in the wall, half out. We literally stood there, mouth-scaping at the apocalyptic scene our standard college kitchen had become. I still sometimes think about how lucky I was.

I could easily have been killed or killed any of my roommates who came in the room. Imagine if I had come in a moment earlier to stir the damn thing with my head poked over it. Ugh, I get the chills. Opie, I've heard of bad cooks, but you literally cooked yourself a frag grenade. Also, down in the comments, I'm going to read this reply from Phoenix JDM. Imagine the police arrived to the scene of an explosion report, and then you have to explain, no, it wasn't a bomb, and then what you mean by cooking Coke. And Opie replies, uh, I think I'd rather have just gone to jail than explain what this was all about. Today I have to,

today I have to buy slapping the beef in front of my six-year-old. Yesterday, my wife who's 36 and my daughter who's 13 tested positive for COVID, and they're banished to one or both of their bedrooms. My oldest son, who's 18, never leaves his room because video games are life. But he's also been feeling pretty awful despite a negative test result, though he did have COVID-19 once already. This leaves my youngest son, who's six, and me, who's 35, being the only one in the house to feel fine, test negative, and have never contracted the virus, and thusly have free reign of the rest of the house. As any decent father-slaught husband would do, I sent them all a group text explaining that

if this was a zombie virus, they would all be dead, and the six-year-old and I would be our family's soul survivors, and we would have to find a way to carry on without them. They laughed, called me a butthole, and asked when dinner would be set, and so I began preparing the meal. The scene is set. So I love corned beef. Not just for St. Patrick's Day, but all year. My wife does not love corned beef.

She doesn't even like it or even tolerate it, mostly. Two nights ago, I spent several hours preparing corned beef because we'd plan to make corned beef hash for dinner last night. My wife will only eat corned beef if it's my homemade corn beep hash. My six-year-old is in the kitchen with me as I gather the onion, garlic, butter, potatoes, etc. My son is quite helpful and especially loves helping in the kitchen. As we finish up

our prep work, I go to the fridge and grab the corn beep that was prepared the night before, place it on the counter and ask the six-year-old if he was excited for dinner. He asks, what are we having again? For getting what it's called, to which I reply excitedly, corn beef hash and smack the wrapped meat with my hand. I didn't smack this chunk of protein with my dominant hand, but as luck would have it, I did smack it with the hand that has my Fitbit secured around the wrist. At the exact moment that I assaulted the roast, my Fitbit begins violently vibrating to alert me that I've reached my step goal for the day. I remark, cool, apparently that got me my final steps for the day. My six year old asks, what did slapping the beef?

I suppress a chuckle and reply with a simple, yes, thinking that would be the end of it. Nope. Wrong. My six year old proceeds to tell me that I need to slap the beef every day to make sure that I meet my step goal. Then he tells me that he wants a fit bit so that he can slap the beef and meet his step goals. After that, he runs it full sprint down the back hall towards, but not into my room, currently

housing my wife and daughter, and tells a two of them that dad got a step count by slapping the beef, and that he's gonna get a fit bit too so that he can slap the beef. And both of us are going to slap the beef every day to make sure that we get our steps in and meet our goals. I head down the hall towards him. I hear my wife and daughter laughing hysterically. I kneel down, look him in the eye, and tell him in his normal of a tone as I can manage. That's a secret that men have kept from women for thousands of years. You're not supposed to tell them that. It's for men only, and I wink. His face lights up. He loves secrets.

Who doesn't? He proceeds to tell his mom and sister to forget what they heard. He tells them that they know nothing. Lastly, he informs them that we'll slap the beef when they're not around. Then I took off my fit bit and made a delicious meal. Down in the comments, Puzzled Nerd made the joke that I was going to make. Tomorrow at school, Dad and I like to slap our beef together, but he says it's a secret and that we shouldn't tell mom. Today I f'd up by showing my college friends a picture

of my mom. It was a pretty normal day at university and a conversation came up about our parents. A friend of mine, Jenny, showed us a picture of her father, so I pulled up Facebook images of my mother and father. A friend of mine saw my father and said that I looked just like him, but when he saw my mother, the color in his face drained. My friend, Chad, watched me scroll down my picture of my mom, then asked about my siblings. He described them in detail. Perfect detail. He then said to me, lily, I think I banged your mom. I laughed, of course. Chad has a reputation and I figured it was a joke until he described my siblings, my mother's home, the neighborhood, etc. I felt horror, sheer horror. He looked at me, I looked at him,

he looked at me, I looked at him, he looked at me, I looked at him, he looked at me and I looked at him. Just a few days ago he was flirting with me and whatnot and now I find out that he's a mother f***er. Literally a mother f***er. And then beneath that opiats and clarifying details, to clarify apparently he found her through a hook up ad. She had someone watching my siblings while she took them to the bone zone, so the bid

that I've sat on has mom and Chad juices on them. He asked me to call him daddy now. I feel homicidal. My parents haven't been together for as long as I've been alive. My mom hasn't had a long-lasting relationship throughout my life, and I kinda blame myself for that. I say this because I was never an easy kid. I was bitter and sad, and no one wants a woman with a kid that doesn't receive the necessary mental help to thrive. My mom and I also don't have the best relationship either. I've always felt that she was a bit

envious of me due to the fact that I've been able to maintain a relationship longer than she has at my young age. While I'm a bit frazzled at the prospect of my friend doing my mom, I guess I can't be mad at him because he genuinely didn't know. A little ways down the road will both laugh at this. My giga-chad sigma male friend will not end up sleeping with me though because I'm deeply into someone else. My partner said that I should screw his mom though to assert my dominance. Today I have to buy not assuming all children are suicidal and hitting a four year old with my car. So I was driving down the street and turned left. As I complete the turn I'm going into a crosswalk. All this at very low speed, when a four-year-old runs out into the crosswalk and I hit him.

I stop immediately, of course, as the mother runs after him. Everyone's screaming! The boy was knocked down and crying, the mom was screaming, for a second at me, and then in fear. I kept saying, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I couldn't find my phone to call an ambulance, so asked a passerby to call and then I couldn't figure out how to stop my audio books So I turned off the car. I got dizzy and I sat down on the curb. I started crying. I saw the mother Stand or son up for a second and he seemed okay. The father came out of the house and started screaming and yelling

First out of fear, then anger. He said he'd killed me and then kill his wife for letting it happen. He was pacing back and forth in rage, but he calmed down after a couple of minutes. The ambulance arrived, then the cops. The EMTs checked the kids, then took the kid and moped to the hospital and ambulance. The cops asked me a couple of questions. I had the presence of mine to call a neighbor who's a lawyer, who told me to just fully cooperate. Later, a traffic lawyer told me that was a mistake, and I should have just remained silent. Oh well. I sent a couple of texts to my family when it happened, and they kept trying to call me.

But when the father started acting threatening, I started recording him on my phone and I didn't wanna answer a call and have it stop recording. Eventually, I texted them that I thought the kid was okay, but I wasn't sure. And he had taken an ambulance to the hospital. My mother drove over from another city and arrived in record time.

45 minutes after the accident, which felt like two hours, most of the audience was gone. Just a cop car, me, and then my mom as well, and the father who was sticking around. Hey, he lived right there. An hour after the accident, the father walked up to me and apologized for what he said. He apologized profusely. I understand. He was scared and panicked. His four-year-old had been hit by a car. I just asked if the little boy was okay, but he said that he didn't know. Four hours later, I got a text from the mother.

She wanted to let me know that he was okay, just a couple of bumps and bruises. They were home from the hospital. She knew that I must be worried and she wanted me to be okay. I'll always be thankful to her for that. I got a lawyer who specializes in this stuff and I met with him two days later. He said that I would almost certainly have my license suspended and if that's all that happens, then you'll be lucky. The issue was, it was a crosswalk. As he described it, the law sees a crosswalk as a domain of the pedestrian and cars are only visitors.

He went over the story a few times with me and said, okay, you're good for the police interview. In Israel, your lawyer can't be present, so I went alone that night. It wasn't as scary as I expected. The cop was pretty nice, though it was clear to me that he was there to get me to incriminate myself. I just stuck with my story, the kid ran into the streets. I'd seen him before I entered the crosswalk, but he and his mother didn't look as if

they intended to cross the streets. He ran into the crosswalk when I was already on the crosswalk. He did try to mess me up. Towards the end, he asked me if I had anything I wanted to add, and I said, yeah, since that evening, I've gone back there a couple of times. I tried to think whether there was anything I could have done differently. I paused and took a breath and the cop closed the interview file. I came back and sat in front of the chief of traffic police for the Jerusalem District of Israel. He said, you're suspected of a

crime, specifically impeding a pedestrian from completing his crossing the street at a crosswalk. Do you have anything to say before I suspend your license? I said, yes, a few things. First, I feel that this accident was unavoidable. He cut me off and said, your lawyer told you to say that. I said, right, but I really do think that it's true. He nodded, asked me a couple of questions, and handed me back my license. He told me to be more careful in the future, which I obviously will be. I told him that from now on, I'll view all pedestrians as suicidal. He said that was very smart.

I went home. A few days ago the mother contacted me again. She asked if I could cover the ambulance fee, which was about 130 bucks, which I'm fine with. I apologize to her for not being in touch. My lawyer told me to avoid contact. She understood and told me in no uncertain terms in and writing. I don't plan to sue you. You're not at fault. You could have happened to anyone. I will not sue you, not now and not in the future. She's a lovely person and I'm so grateful. So almost this exact story happened to my dad when he was younger. He was like, um, I don't know, 20 or something and he was driving his dad's car,

which was like a nice, like, muscle car. And my dad is honestly like a really, really gentle soul. He drives under the speed limit, and he said he was driving under the speed limit then as well. And like, he's a type of guy, honestly, he will not step on ants. He won't step on bugs because he always says, come on buddy, they're just trying to live their life as well. So like, he's that kind of person. Anyways, so he's like some 21 year old, 22 year old, whatever, driving a muscle car, just down some normal suburban road, just mining his own business, driving cautiously, and some kid darts out from between two vehicles,

so my dad couldn't see it, and my dad hit the kid. And, you know, of course, the parents freak out, and they call the cops, and my dad said that the cops treated him like absolute garbage, because they pretty much assumed because here's a 22-year-old driving a muscle car who hit a kid so of course he was driving recklessly. But luckily, luckily the parents who were there and saw the accident happen basically agreed that yeah my dad had nothing to do with this and he was driving safely and the kid darted out in the traffic so my dad couldn't have avoided it. So like if those parents had been worse people, if they had been just douchebags who blamed

other people for their mistakes, then my dad honestly could have ended up in jail for years. Who knows, I might have never even been born because of the result of that, you know, life changing event that could have happened to my dad. That was our slash today I effed up, and if you liked this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day. today I f'd up and if you like this content be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.