rSlash - r/TIFU by Going on a Romantic Date with My Dad

Episode Date: August 17, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:06 Poison 2:35 Coffee machine 4:44 Love seat 8:02 Watch it 9:59 Double tap 11:43 Body Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to R-slash Today I F-Up, where O.P. almost poisons her entire office. Today I effed up by almost poisoning everyone at work. So I'm a 19-year-old woman, and I've recently gotten an internship at my field of interest, which is law. The job is an amazing opportunity, as I'll be working at a district attorney's office, besides it being my actual first job. And this is my first week there, so while I'm still getting the hang of things, I'm very excited about it.

Well, the girl who trained me for this past week is leaving tomorrow, and there was talk of throwing her a little party. Me, trying to make a good impression and thank her for training me, decided to offer to bake some cookies for everyone. When I leave work, I buy the ingredients, get home, and start working. Now, the recipe that I use requires sodium bicarbonate, which my parents keep in the laundry room at my house. Another important detail is that I'm not from the U.S., and my language kind of inverts the order of words. So sodium bicarbonate becomes bicarbonate of sodium. So as I'm baking, I go over to the laundry room to grab it and see a package with white powder that's closed with a metal clip, which I can partially make out ornate of sodium,

right where the bicarbonate usually is. I grab it, use it, and, you know, eat a lot of the raw dough because it's good. Afterwards, I set it on the fridge. A couple of minutes go by, and I realize I'm burping a lot, but I think, nothing of it. Maybe I just drank too much soda. I go to take the dough out of the fridge to put it in the oven and notice lots of small white dots on it. I'm confused for about five seconds before I go to the laundry room and actually read the full name of what I put in, sodium percarbonate. It's not cyanide, but I'm working in a government building where we deal with criminal cases.

I don't think my coworkers would be very understanding, especially since, without knowing what it is, these little white dots look an awful lot like cyanide, ironically. Plus, as someone who ate it, I can say that you definitely can tell something isn't quite right afterwards. I had to throw the whole batch out and start from scratch. But I'm glad I caught it because this incident would not look good on paper. I googled it and it doesn't seem like this is lethal, but it can cause burning in the mouth, throat or stomach, nausea, vomiting, and coughing. So she wouldn't have killed her co-workers, but she definitely would have gotten fired and she might have gotten investigated by the police. Today I effed up by trying to quietly fix the office coffee machine and making everyone think that I was stealing from the snack fund.

Our office has one of those fancy coffee machines with the pods kept in a little cabinet under it. The coffee is free, but the snacks next to it are on an honor system, like 75 cents for chips, one buck for a granola bar, that kind of thing. For some reason, the snack money box is also kept in the same cabinet, no idea why. Probably because nobody wants cash just sitting out on the counter. The cabinet door has been sagging for weeks and scraping against the frame every time someone opened it. I went to grab a pod and it made that awful wood-on-wood sound again. I'd already fixed something at home after a lucky steak hit in the morning and was feeling productive, so I decided to mess with it for two minutes.

I used to fix random stuff at my old job, so I thought, okay, easy. I'll tighten the hinge screws and become the quiet office hero. So I opened the cabinet, move the snack fun box onto the counter so I could actually reach the hinge and crouch down with the screwdriver. Which is exactly when our office manager walked in. From her point of view, I was crouched under the coffee machine with the cabinet open, coffee pods everywhere, a screwdriver in my hand, and the snack money sitting next to me. I don't know why I panicked and said, I can explain, which is the worst sentence you can say, when you're innocent. Then I tried to explain too fast and said I moved the money so I could get into

the cabinet, which also did not help. Long story short, three people got involved, someone checked the camera and it showed me walking into the break room with a screwdriver like some kind of budget Ocean's 11 idiots. They eventually believed me, especially after seeing the door was actually sagging. Opie, the correct play would have been to just continue what you were doing, just morning and then continue screw driving, because any suspicion she may have had would have instantly transformed into curiosity, she would have asked what you're doing, and you would have innocently said, oh, I'm just tightening the screw to fix this loose drawer. Then she would have felt guilty because she suspected you were doing something wrong when actually you were doing a good deed.

Today I effed up by using the love seat. I convinced my father to go watch The Odyssey with me. What I expected to be a wholesome father-son bonding experience ended up being an awkward situation that became nightmare fuel. My screw-up was set in motion the moment my dad and I arrived at the cinema and realized the Odyssey was almost sold out. It was opening weekend. I should have booked online in advance. But it was the first screening of the day, and I thought not many people were going to show up for the earliest show. I was wrong. Limited seats were available. My dad and I had one of two choices.

Choice number one, we select any of the normal seats available, but then we wouldn't be sitting together. Choice number two, we select the love seat, which is basically two seats merged into one so the couples can sit as close to each other as possible. My dad opted for the love seat instead of the random seats that would separate us. Before I could even think of suggesting anything else, my dad said that if I was worried about what strangers might think, then I should stop because no one was going to pay any attention to us. Cut to my dad and I, awkwardly moving down a crowded row. My dad leading the way. We were repeatedly saying, excuse me, or sorry, because people had to make space for us to pass.

My dad asked a random girl if the love seat next to her was the seat reserved for couples. The girl looked confused at first, but then nodded. My dad turned to me and said, Found the love seat! I was practically hiding my face behind the popcorn at that moment. As my dad and I sat down, he thanked the girl for assisting him, and then he decided to specifically introduce me as his son, which would have been fine if that was where it ended.

However, my dad thought that it would be funny to tell the girl how afraid I was that people were going to think that we were together. I could tell the girl was caught off guard by the continuation of the conversation, but she was kind enough to at least pretend she cared. My dad attempted to include me in the conversation by encouraging me to repeat the word I used earlier when the two of us were still debating the love seat situation. I refused to repeat the word, but my dad kept asking until I finally said, twink, dad, twink. My dad snapped his fingers, like he just heard me say something that was on the tip of his tongue. Before he made it clear to the

girl that even though we were sitting where couples usually sit, we were not twinking. I interrupted my dad and made him aware that he might be bothering the girl. My dad apologized and left the girl alone. I thought the worst was over until my dad leaned in during the movie and quietly asked if it was twinking if a father wanted to put his arm around the shoulder of his son in the love seat. I said the word was twink and he was using it wrong. But I was okay with my dad putting his arm around my shoulder. Not going to lie, the experience was somewhat embarrassing, but I still appreciated spending time with my dad. Anyway, not the craziest screw-up compared to what I've seen on here, but it definitely had moments I wished never happened, lull. I knew by paragraph two that the dad was going to intentionally embarrass O.P., and he did exactly what was required of him as a father.

Today I effed up by talking trash about a client while my AI note-taker was still recording. My boss slacked me a screenshot this afternoon with just a question mark under it, and I knew right away exactly what I did. For context, I use one of those AI note takers that sit in on your calls and email out a summary the moment you hang up. And a while back, I turned on a setting to have it send that summary automatically to everyone on the invite. Then I forgot the setting even existed like an idiot. So this morning, we got on call with a client who's been, to put it kindly, high maintenance. In the couple of minutes before they joined, my two coworkers and I were venting the way you do when you think it's just you. One of us saying the account was going to churn anyway, and another

saying we'd patted the timeline because this client never approves anything on the first try. Then the client joined, and we were perfectly pleasant to their face, had a totally normal call, and we all hung up thinking everything was fine. And the note taker did what it was built to do. It recorded the whole call, including those couple of minutes before the client joined. then turned it all into a summary and emailed it to everyone on the invite, client included. I didn't find out until my boss question mark landed, by which point the client had already replied to all of us asking, word for word, what padded the timeline was supposed to mean,

with the whole AI summary quoted right there underneath. My whole afternoon goes to damage control calls. The accounts now two levels above me, and I've switched off automation on my own since, even for a few that never did anything wrong, because I don't trust myself with a checkbox anymore. The tool did nothing wrong. It did exactly what I set it up to do. And I'm the genius who armed it a year ago and walked away. Hey, O.P., maybe you could get that AI chatbot of yours to update your resume. Today I effed up by accidentally liking my boss's eight-year-old vacation bikini photo

at 2 a.m. on Instagram. I've been at my current medical scribing job for about two weeks. The physician I'm scribing for is actually a pretty nice person, but I still get that don't say anything stupid anxiety around her. And I want to make a good impression since I wanted her to eventually write my letter of recommendation for med school. So anyways, last night I couldn't sleep. So like always, I chose to doomscroll on Insta. Eventually, I decided I should find some similar topics to talk with my physician about so that she has a more favorable opinion of me and so that we don't have any awkward silences in our conversations. So I ended up looking at her profiles since they'd mentioned a hiking trip during a meeting,

and I was curious where they'd gone. It started innocently enough as I looked at a few recent hiking pictures, and they turned into older posts. Then somehow I was looking at photos from 2018. Then I accidentally double-tapped on a beach vacation photo from eight years ago. I immediately unliked it, closed the app, and stared at my ceiling, wondering if deleting my account would be enough or what the hell I should do. Right now, I'm panicking because I have a ship tonight, and I have no idea what the hell to expect. What do I even say? Not sure if it's relevant,

but she's single, so it probably looks like I'm flirting with her. But if I admit that it was an accident and that I was stalking her account for talking points, I feel like I look more like an idiot. What do I do? O.P., if you're wondering what to do, it's simple. Move to another state and change your name. Today I effed up by asking my neighbors if they were burying a body. I was out walking my dog tonight and noticed three dudes standing in their yard with a shovel and a flashlight. I thought maybe they were doing some type of yard work, planting something, or digging something up. It's 11 p.m., but who knows what a couple of guys might feel like doing randomly at this hour? Maybe they had a couple of drinks and one of them said,

Hey, help me dig up that bush or something. I thought it'd be funny to ask, what are you guys doing? Burying a body? Trying to build rapport with the neighbors by joking around a little, you know. But you know why it looked like they were burying a body? Because they were. Their dog. I feel like a butthole and I'll never recover.

Thankfully, one of them laughed out loud and I apologize profusely. That was our slash today. I fpped up. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.