rSlash - r/TIFU By Accidentally Losing $28,000,000

Episode Date: January 30, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:07 Wood 1:39 Moms job 5:08 28 million 8:16 Hello kitty 10:00 Nipple burn 11:35 Drunk Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to R slash Today I FFed Up, where O.P. gives his mother-in-law a very happy good morning. Today I effed up by having my girlfriend's mother see me in my underwear while excited. What happened last week was so embarrassing that I would rather forget it. But my girlfriend insists that I posted because she thought that it was so funny. My girlfriend's mother came over to my girlfriend's house to visit and was going to stay over for the night. We went out to eat and had some drinks. Then we came back home afterwards and watched TV for a while. We all went to bed.

Normally, me and my girlfriend sleep naked, but with her mom staying over, that would be awkward in case one of us had to go to the bathroom at night. So I slept in sweatpants and a shirt. Sometime during the night, I felt hot and took off my sweatpants. The next morning, I woke up really tired and actually forgot that my girlfriend's mother had stayed over. My girlfriend wasn't in the bedroom, so I assumed that she was downstairs eating breakfast. I went downstairs and saw the two of them eating breakfast. I'm standing there just wearing my boxer briefs, very excited.

My girlfriend looks down and starts laughing. Her mother just smiled and said, Good morning. I then realized my mistake. I was so embarrassed. I didn't know what to say, so I just go, I think I'm going to put more clothes on. I take the walk of shame upstairs to put on some sweatpants.

I spent most of breakfast wishing I was dead, while both of them kept laughing. It was not my finest moment. What I want to know as O.P. is when she said good morning, was she looking up or looking down? Today I effed up by explaining my mom's job, very, very wrong to my boyfriend's family. I'm Brazilian, and when this happened in 2013, I'd been living in Ireland for about two years. My English was good enough for everyday conversations, but my vocabulary was limited. This detail is important. This was the very first time that I met my then-boyfriend's parents.

It was a Sunday lunch at his parents' house, nothing formal, but it still felt like a big moment. We had only just started dating, and I remember being extra careful, trying to be polite, charming, and generally not saying anything stupid. I didn't really know what kind of family they were yet, and even though I'd never personally experienced prejudice in Ireland for being Brazilian, I had friends who had, so I was very aware that this lunch could go badly. We were all sitting around the table, eating and chatting when the friendly and expected interrogation started. Where I was from, how long I'd been in Ireland, how many siblings I had, all normal, all easy. I was starting to relax and feel like I was doing

fine. Then someone asked, so what does your mom do for a living? My mom is an artisan. She does crafts, scrapbooking, painting, handmade things. In Portuguese, you'd casually explain that by saying, she works with her hands. My brain latched on to that phrase in Portuguese, did a terrible split-second translation. And before I could stop myself, I said, very calmly, oh, she does hand jobs. The reaction was immediate. My father-in-law and brother-in-law burst out laughing. Not confused laughter, not delayed laughter, instant uncontrollable laughter. My boyfriend laughed too, torn between laughing and trying to keep a straight face. At the same moment they started laughing, I realized what I just said.

My brain finally caught up and went, You just told them your mother gives hand jobs for a living. I was mortified. I wanted to cry right there at the table. My face was burning and my English completely disappeared. My boyfriend tried to break the laughter and the silence and said something like, she means her mom is an artisan. She works with crafts.

scrapbooking painting. My mother-in-law and sister-in-law immediately jumped in as well and shut it down, saying that it was obvious what I meant, that it wasn't funny, and to stop laughing. I appreciated them more than I could properly explain. Lunch continued. I survived, barely. Fast forward 11 years of marriage and 12 years of knowing them. I love them dearly, and yes, this story has now become part of our family's Christmas tradition. Every Christmas, at some point, someone brings up that, hand job incident. I can laugh about it now, but that first Sunday, sitting at the table, I was convinced I'd completely embarrassed myself beyond recovery. Glad I didn't. There's one last part to this story. I've never told my mom. She absolutely adores my husband's family,

even though they don't speak the same language at all. And I know that if she heard this story, she'd be mortified. So for now, this story lives with us, Reddit, and the Christmas table. but not with her. O.P., I understand what you went through. Once, with my Chinese mother-in-law, I confused the phrase chiffon, which means eat food, with chow high,

which means stinky lady parts. As in, you guys want to eat some chow high? Today I effed up by jokingly ringing up a transaction for $28 million at work. I work at a liquor store, and it being the 26th of December, it was relatively very slow today.

Near the end of my shift, me and my coworker had nothing much to do, so I jokingly scanned a miniature bottle of alcohol several times as if he was a customer purchasing that many bottles. To keep the joke going, I then scanned an entire box of pre-made shooters, something like 40 shooters at three bucks each, several times once again. The total was something like $2,500 at this point. My co-worker then had the bright idea to check the system and find some expensive wines that were sold and still in the system, and he found one worth several, thousand dollars, almost $10,000, and he set the quantity to $999, which was the maximum allowed. By this point, the running total is $9 million, and we're cracking up. He then finds another bottle,

this one nearly $20,000, and sets that quantity to $999, bringing the total up to $28 million. Now, this is where I'm personally responsible for the screw-up. I pretend to bring the transaction up to the point right when you confirm how much the customer is paying in cash. The system automatically assumes the customer is paying in full, so the only thing stopping the transaction from going through was a single press of the enter key. My coworker didn't see that I was already there and mistakenly pressed enter to reach the same point that I'd brought us to.

28 million dollars in theoretical cash made its way into the cash register's balance. I yelled at my coworker to ask, what the hell did he just do? And he realized what he'd done and his eyes went wide. We immediately tried to reverse the entire transaction. But understandably, there's a $1 million maximum that you can return at a time. So attempting to return $28 million of sold alcohol didn't work. After figuring out the maximum, I then had to do dozens of returns, each worth $1 million at a time, until every single bottle of alcohol was returned and the inventory was corrected from negative 99 to zero.

However, in the reports for that day, it'll show $28 million in revenue and a similar amount in returns, which will completely screw up stats and graphs and everything, which higher-ups will obviously inquire about. I'm going to wait for my store manager tomorrow morning before she comes in so that I can explain what happened and confess that we were joking around and never meant to go through with the transaction. Please pray for me and my job. I 100% accept that we were at fault and deserve some sort of punishment for exaggerating as much as we did,

and for not working when we were supposed to. Then OP posted an update. My boss was understandably frustrated and disappointed, but the worst that can happen is the higher-ups will meet and they'll probably decide to give us warnings, or it'll be in our files, but nothing more. Today I effed up by going outside to swing in my Hello Kitty pajamas. So I'm a 21-year-old woman, and I like to swing in my backyard to decompress. Sometimes I go out in the middle of the day, and sometimes I go out at like 9 o'clock at night when I get off work.

My whole family knows and doesn't care. I just sit on the swings listening to music with my earbuds in, drifting off into La La Land. This time was no different. Now, I do have to mention that it was a bit chilly outside, and it was 9.22 p.m. when I went out. I was only wearing Hello Kitty pajamas as it was the only warm PJs I had at the time. So I'm swinging for a good 20 minutes when I see my mother come out to check on me. I thought it was because the swings were too loud, as they do creak every time I swing, or she was telling me to come inside because it was late. No, she just goes back inside, so I continue doing my own thing. The nice thing I have to mention is that my headphones were on full volume, so I couldn't hear a damn thing.

She then comes back out and gestures for me to come over to her, and I did. Well, it turns out that a backyard neighbor called the cops on us. They called the cops concerned that a 10-year-old girl was swinging outside with no proper winter attire on. It scared my mom because no kid under the age of 14 should be outside. She had to walk up to the cops after they checked the backyard to tell them that instead of a 10-year-old girl, it was her 21-year-old daughter. Safe to say, she told me to come back outside between laughs.

So apparently, me wanting to swing in the middle of the night in my hello kitty pajamas was worth calling the cops over. Guess next time I'll have to wear less kitty attire or put on a coat so we don't have the cops called on us again, lull. Today I effed up by chemically burning my nipples for New Year's Eve. This happened on New Year's Eve, but I'm only now recognizing the magnitude of my screw-up. So the party that I was going to attend on New Year's had a strict dress code, and I decided to wear the one dress that I owned that would fit the criteria, which happened to have very deep cleavage.

This made me a little uncomfortable, since I knew that I'd be dancing, and my nipples would eventually pop out. As the dress didn't allow for a bra, the only reasonable thing that came into my mind was to buy the cheapest nipple cover I could find. Logical, right? So I did exactly that. I went out and bought five, dollar single-use cross-shaped pasties, put them on underneath my dress and had a blast all night. The fabric of the dress actually adhered to the surface of the pasties and worked better than intended. My dress didn't budge at all, despite the drunken Shakira level dancing. When I came home the next morning, I forgot to take them off and drunkenly went to bed. When I came out of my haze a few hours later, I got up to take a shower, and only then did I realize I still had my beautiful and

useful black X's on my chest. As I tried to take them off, I remember thinking, this shouldn't hurt this much. Now, should it? No, it shouldn't. Because I forgot I was allergic to band-aid glue. So I basically wore two band-aids to which I'm allergic on my nipples for over 12 hours, and now I have two very itchy, very distinct X's over my boobs. Today I effed up by causing my friend to have to hold on to my male part while I peed and I've never felt more subhuman. New Year's Eve started out fine, but I clearly crossed a line and just kept going until I completely blacked out. I don't remember half the night, but the fragments I do have and the

things my friend told me are enough to make me want to disappear. I woke up on New Year's day in a state that I can't even describe. I'd pooped myself. I'd spent the night. I'd spent the night sleeping in my own vomit. But the absolute rock bottom moment was finding out that I was so far gone and unable to function that my friends literally had to hold my dick for me to aim while I was trying to pee, just so I wouldn't soak myself even more than I already had. The level of burden I put on them is what's eating me alive. These people had to clean up my mess literally while I was a dead weight, disgusting version of myself. They were being good friends. but I feel like a complete subhuman knowing they had to see me like that.

I am very disappointed to my core. I'm embarrassed. I'm disgusted with my lack of control. And I feel like a total failure of an adult. I think this is the wake-up call I needed because I never, ever want to feel this low again. I don't even know how to begin apologizing or making it up to them. AOP, look on the bright side. At least you know who your friends are.

That was our slash today I effed up. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my point. podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.