rSlash - r/TIFU I Asked Out My Friend's Hot Mom

Episode Date: July 25, 2026

0:00 Intro 0:06 Date 1:58 Nair 2:59 Good neighbor 4:33 Athletes foot 7:17 Spanking 9:17 Sailors 12:25 Kissing 14:20 Circle back Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Entertainment meets fast delivery. It's on Prime. Welcome to R slash Today I FFed Up, where O.P tries to hit on his best friend's mom. Today I effed up by asking my friend's mom out. My friend's mom has been single for the last few years. She's currently in her mid-40s. I'm in my early 20s, and I've always found her to be really attractive. She carries herself with confidence and has a pretty wicked sense of humor. For most people who don't know her, she can seem pretty cold, detached, and aloof.

But once you get to know her, she's one of the nicest and most caring people out there. I've been strongly infatuated with her for the last two years. Recently, I ran into her in a shopping mall, and we had a great conversation. She got both of us coffee, and we had a good time yapping away at the cafe. Ever since, she appeared in my dream twice. I've never felt like this towards any other woman before. Not in the last 22 years of my life. Yesterday, I decided to make a move.

I slid into her Instagram DM and told her that her dinner outfit was amazing and looked really good on her. Then I asked her for dinner, just to catch up further. She replied initially, saying, sure, and that she would bring her son along. too. I didn't know how to reply to that. I wanted to make it clear that this was a date and that it would be the two of us. I gave it a few hours. Then I got a bottle of red wine and chugged two glasses down to calm my nerves and boost my confidence. Then I texted her, telling her I'd love to go on a date with her. Right after I sent that, it was radio silence from her till one hour ago. She dropped me a text, gently declining my offer and telling me I'm a great kid and all the best with girls my age.

I'm absolutely crushed. I don't know how my friend will see me from now onwards. I have no idea if she told my friend. The top comment points out exactly what I was thinking, which is inviting her son was her way of turning you down nicely. Today I effed up by trying to nair my butthole with bikini nair. So I'm a 27-year-old woman, and I'm going to an event where clothes can be removed. For starters, I'm an incredibly hairy woman. Twins with Sasquatch. I hate my body hair, and laser removal doesn't always work. It always comes back, and waxing is way out of budget.

So there I was, butthole in the air getting neir bikini applied, when I felt a burn equal to a thousand suns and an Agni Kai combined. And so we immediately tried to remove it, and I jumped in the shower and tried to cool it down with cold water. I tried to scrub as gently and as quickly as possible. I've never felt pain this bad, and I've given birth, broken bones, survived cancer, and have had two emergency surgeries for organ failure. I now have a slight chemical burn on my butthole. Just wanted to share this with anyone who needs a laugh today and who needs to just relax. Today I effed up by trying to be a good neighbor and ending up with police at my door at 7 a.m. My elderly neighbor has been living next to me

for the two years that I've been here. Our really nice guy lives alone. Last week, I noticed his bins were still inside his front gate on Collection Day. The garbage truck was literally coming down the street, and I knew that he'd miss it. So I just opened his gate, wheeled him out to the pavement real quick, and left them there for the truck. Didn't think anything of it and went back inside. Turns out, he had gone on a golf trip for a few days with his mates. One of those trips were they're out on the course all day and basically unreachable. His daughter had set up a rain camera at the front of his house a while back, but the angle only really covers the front door.

So what she saw on the alert was just someone opening the gate and walking into her dad's property. No context, no bins, nothing. I'm not in the local Facebook group. Didn't even know it existed. So when she posted the clip asking if anyone knew who I was, I was, I had absolutely no idea. Next morning, after my nightly steak session at 7 a.m., two police officers knocked on my door. A neighbor had recognized my jacket and pointed them my way. I'm standing there half asleep, trying to explain the bin situation while they're looking at me like I've lost

the plot. They were fine about it once I explained. One of them even laughed, but the whole street had already seen the post by then. My neighbor got back, knocked on my door, completely mortified, and wouldn't stop apologizing, which somehow made the whole thing more uncomfortable. Today I effed up by having athletes foot for 15 years. When I was 10 or 12 or something, the skin between my toes started cracking in the shower if I bent my toes too far forward, or sometimes when I was washing between my toes. My skin has always been sensitive and tends to get dry, so I just assumed it was really dry, put some lotion on it and forgot about it.

This happened many times, sometimes more frequently than others. But when I commented on it, my mom didn't make a big deal out of it, so I didn't either. As the years went by, I figured this was just my life. My skin is dry, things crack, hurts a little bit, I'm an adult, it's not a big deal. I suck it up and put some lotion on it. Fast forward to a couple of months ago, one of my toes itched really badly and was a little bit purple. It swelled up, but didn't look that bad, and I figured it since it's kind of kind of a pain to get an appointment with my doctor at short notice, I'd just see how it went.

Really, it kind of looked and behaved like chillblains, which would check out since the house is pretty cold. I never wear socks, and I'm so used to it that I don't perceive the cold, and that would go away in a few weeks if I babyed it. So I wore socks for a month, the swelling went down, the itching went away. But then the skin on that toe started peeling a bit. It didn't really look bad, so I put some lotion on it and again chose to play the, waiting game. Coincidentally, while doom scrolling, I was recommended on Reddit a post of someone whose toe webbing cracked just like mine. Everyone in the comments was saying it was athlete's foot, and I thought, it can't possibly be athlete's foot. I wash my feet, I don't go barefoot outside,

I've had this for ages. All the pictures online of athlete's foot look absolutely horrible and totally different from the minor cracks between my toes. But the idea lingered in my mind. it up and you can just buy lamassil cream at the store. It's not that expensive. It's not that expensive if it means this will never happen again. So I bought some, totally thinking I was wasting my time. I religiously put it on my dogs every evening. I dried in between my toes after I showered, even though I thought it was pointless and it would just dry on its own. It honestly looked worse after I started. The skin between my toes peeled where it had cracked before, but it wasn't cracking that week. I can't really prove whether it was or wasn't athlete's foot, because I can't test

whatever it was between my toes, but the skin between my toes hasn't cracked since. I don't know if I'm helping anyone here by saying this, but it's not normal for the skin between your toes to crack, and it's not useless to dry between your toes after your shower. Today I effed up by playing the spanking game. For context, I play Far Cry 5. If you haven't played it, the basic premise is that you're fighting an insane cult to free the local community, with hunting and other side activities mixed in. When my 4-year-old is watching me play, I tried to avoid filling the screen with people getting shot in the face. So instead, I run around with a melee weapon and smack the local wildlife, mostly predators, on the rear end. Then sprint away while they chase me. My daughter thinks it's

the funniest thing she's ever seen, and has affectionately dubbed it the spanking game. Fast forward to today. We're sitting in a restaurant when our waiter comes over, introduces himself, and before I can say a word, my daughter looks him dead in the eyes and proudly announces, my dad plays the spanking game with me. The poor guy froze. I froze. Time itself froze. Now I'm desperately trying to explain that I'm not playing some bizarre game with my child. And I'm playing a video game about fighting an evil colt, except instead of shooting cultists while she's watching, I spend my time running around, smacking black bears on the butt with a shovel because my daughter thinks it's hilarious. I don't think my explanation helped. I'm pretty sure the waiter wrote down

my license plate before I even got the check. Down in the comments, we have this story from Remney. A family friend's daughter went to school and proudly proclaimed, I sleep in a box every night. Child protective services got called, and her dad showed them to her room where they saw the refrigerator box he had painted like a house and cut little windows and doors in it right next to her bed. We still give them a hard time about that one. Then this story from Lotus. Loll, we have an old coal cellar that we call the dungeon. Fun fact, little kids don't understand that telling other adults that your mommy and daddy have a

dungeon means something very different when they hear it. Today I effed up by getting about 25 U.S. Navy sailors smoked by instructors. Back in high school, I was in the sea cadets, which was basically junior ROTC, but nautical. One of the perks was two-week summer trainings at bases across the country. We got to see different military jobs, ride naval ships during Fleet Week, the whole deal. As a teenager, it was genuinely awesome. One of my trainings was in Norfolk, Virginia. We were in a three-tier barracks.

Our group on the top floor, an A-school class of actual Navy personnel on the first floor, and the middle floor kept empty as a buffer between us. At the end of the two weeks, they gave us MREs, meals ready to eat, for the last two days. We thought this was the coolest thing ever. We were wrong. Those things turned my digestive system into concrete. I didn't feel the consequences until the final morning, when we'd already finished cleaning the barracks spotless for our graduation ceremony.

I had approximately 48 hours of MRE backup demanding immediate release. Our floor's bathroom was sealed, cleaned, and ready for the next group. In a moment of teenage logic, I slipped down to the vacant middle floor. What followed was a biblical event. It was only after the situation concluded that I noticed there was absolutely no toilet paper on an unoccupied floor. Panicking, I used my undershirt. Then I made a catastrophic miscalculation about the flush capacity of military toilets. The courtesy flush worked.

The second one did not. In my 16-year-old brain, getting caught flooding a military barracks bathroom with a clogged undershirt was a fate worse than death. So I said nothing, fixed my uniform, walked out, and put on a new undershirt. After the ceremony, we went back to collect our luggage and the entire first floor A school class was getting absolutely smoked on the front lawn. Turns out, someone had tried to flush an undershirt down a toilet on the restricted middle floor and taken out the plumbing. The instructors were degrading them for being filthy and unsanitary, the whole shebang.

I watched in silence, grabbed my gear, and boarded the bus. If you were stationed at Norfolk in the summer of 2005 and got smoked for something you didn't do, I'm sorry, you deserved better. Thank you for your service. This top comment, if it makes you feel better, every single A school has at least one legend of a phantom pooper. Thank you for contributing to that tradition. Down in the comments, we have this from Neil Malkin. Every sailor has a poop story. I heard one very similar to this, except that it was a midshipman on a submarine cruise who tried to flush his shart, stained underwear.

When the poor A-Ganger, a conventional mechanic, dismantled the busted sanitary pump, he found the name tag that the guy's mommy had conveniently sewed into his skivies, still legible in the tattered remains. Today I effed up by kissing my friend because I was 100% sure he was about to kiss me first. This happened three days ago, and I want to move to a different country. There's this guy in my friend group. We've been friends for like a year and a half. Nothing weird, except lately it felt like something shifted, or I thought it did.

He was texting more, finding reasons to sit next to me, did this thing where he would fix my hood when it was half stuck in my jacket collar, which like, who does that platonically? Who? So last Friday, we're at a pregame at our mutual friend's place. It gets late, people leave, and it's just me and him on the couch. Close, talking about nothing. And he gets this look on his face, kind of soft. kind of serious, leaning slightly and going quiet mid-sentence.

I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I kissed him. He did not kiss me back. It's not like he pushed me away. He just froze. And then pulled back a little and did this sharp exhale and said, oh. One syllable. Oh, I wanted to dissolve into the couch cushions and become part of the furniture forever. Turns out, he was about to tell me that he likes my friend. He He wanted my advice. He was working up the nerve. That was the look. That was the quiet.

He was nervous about talking about her. I had to sit there for another 40 minutes because I couldn't leave without making it weirder. We both pretended to watch something on his phone. I don't know what it was. I was not processing visual information at that point. He texted me the next day like, Hey, are you okay? And I said, yeah, lull, and have not opened anything since.

I have to see him Friday. Same friend group. They'll be there. I am not okay. O.P., I understand the embarrassment, but I can guarantee you this is not nearly as big of a deal as you think it is. Today I effed up by building an app to track how many times my coworker says, circling back in meetings. Now the whole office uses it. So there's this guy at work, K. K. Kay says circling back constantly in every meeting, sometimes twice in the same sentence. So just circling back on that before we circle back to the main point. I started noticing it maybe four months ago, and now I can't unhear it. It's ruined meetings for me entirely.

So as a joke, purely for my own amusement, I vibe-coded a mini-wobby app in 10 minutes. Every time Kay says circling back, I tap the screen. It tracks daily counts, shows me a weekly graph, gives me a personal best notification. I showed two colleagues. That was a mistake. They immediately wanted to use it too. I shared the link. Not a big deal, right? Within two days, there were nine of us silently tapping our phones every time Kay spoke. Someone made a weekly leaderboard for highest count. Someone else added a feature request for the phrase, to be honest, because apparently Kate from Finance says it 11 times a meeting and felt left out. Recently, Kay said, circling back, 23 times during a 56-minute meeting. We nearly lost it. Someone had to fake a coughing fit. The problem is I now look forward to meetings, like genuinely. I check the group chat during calls. We celebrate new personal bests. Kay said circling back at 907 a.m. yesterday, and I got three notifications within seconds. I built an app to cope with an annoying habit and accidentally made meetings the best

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