“She Was Living In Our Walls”: 69 Stories That People Can’t Tell Because Nobody Believes Them

I was partying in West Hollywood for my birthday. Got too drunk and separated from my group. Called them with no luck. Start walking down the street crying because drunk and it's my birthday. Then I hear "are you ok?" and see Craig Robinson looking at me. Immediately stopped crying and said, "I can't find my friends," and he then asks if I need a ride. My uncle lives in WeHo so Craig Robinson and his driver took me 2 blocks to my uncles. In those 2 blocks I told him how I always quote him and he didn't believe me, so obviously I start saying some of his lines to which he finished some of them. I always think of that night when I see him.

I was driving on 95N a bit south of Fredericksburg, VA. I had just finished passing someone in the left land when I see a beat-up old work truck barrelling toward me in the rearview; had to be doing 90+. So I move over to the middle lane. As they pass, I notice the bed is just full of tools and gear, all bouncing around unsecured (not even a net, ffs).

I thought to myself "something's gon' drop outta there and hit me," so I shimmied on over to the right lane, figuring a whole lane separating us should be fine, and they'll be out of sight before long anyway. But they moved over into the middle lane as I was leaving it.

Just as I was thinkin' "great, well there's that plan ruined...", a rusty old red tank drops out the bed, takes a weird bounce, flies into my lane, bounces barely a car length in front of me, and *explodes in a fireball as I drive through it*.

Naturally, I very carefully FTFO for a moment, lol, and pulled off at the next exit so I can inspect the damage...because, y'know, I missed the "what to expect when driving through fireballs" day in Driver's Ed. class, lol.

Fortunately, the only "damage" I could find was a little red smudge of paint transfer on my truck's bumper where I apparently booped the fuel can/tank.

Sprained both my shoulders from my wisdom teeth growing in. Then they grew in such a way that no mallifixicon (sp) had ever seen. Even the orthodontist and dentist were shocked. I was offered $300 to have my x-rays placed in a medical textbook.

I rode the Goodyear blimp when I was 12.

I worked at a golf course during the summer in college. Long story short, I was called in to the pro shop to help carry a disabled woman up to the restaurant on the 2nd level (they didn't have a handicap ramp and the elevator broke). I thought it was a strange request and told the pro shop that I thought she'd be too heavy to carry up the stairs. The pro tells me '*oh I don't think that will be a problem.'*

I reply '*what.do.you.mean 'you don't think that will be a problem/'I*

Turns out the woman had no arms, no legs, but she was pregnant.

No, I didn't do it.

I once hitched a ride home at 2 AM on a garbage truck.

I broke my pelvis skiing in my early 20’s and while I was recovering I thought, “At least I didn’t break both arms or wrists because that would be much worse.” A short time later I fell down a flight of stairs and broke both wrists. It definitely was much worse as I couldn’t drive, eat, bathe or go to the bathroom on my own.

Some years ago, I visited London with some friends. Saw on Facebook that someone I know was visiting with his partner on the same days, so we joked about finding each other there, knowing that the odds would be extremely low since London is massive and they were doing the trip on their own, as a couple.

Turns out, we ended up finding each other three times in two days. You'd think it's because we were going to tourist places, but it happened in the middle of random streets. It was fun and weird.

I once got a “then everybody clapped” for a story in college where I dislodged a girl’s stuck vending machine snack by buying the thing above her stuck snack. Afterwards she said “My hero!”. I didn’t think it was that far fetched and I’d like to think if I was going to come up with a self aggrandizing story I’d do a little better than strategic snack purchases, but beyond belief for some I guess….

I was retired from the army at 19 on July 9, 2009. I spent the first ten years of my retirement being accused of theft of valor and never even having been in the army. I am also 'stereotypically attractive' to many, I guess. My looks mixed with my age made me an easy target for jerks who felt inadequate knowing a woman so small and attractive was tougher than they'd ever be. It was almost always men who'd never been in the military making the accusations.

Got my 100% two years ago, finally, through the VA. People don't question as much now that I'm 36 and my legs got so bad that I have to wear two medical boots if I'm standing for more than 30-60 minutes.

It was awful and one of the reasons it took me until about five years ago to start openly talking about my military service (leaving out details that caused me PTSD to talk about) at all. Opening up about those details took even longer. It was so isolating, like I wasn't good enough to not be lying because I didn't deserve retirement when I didn't even finish my first contract.

Got chased by a bull briefly on a mountain in Guatemala (dumb kid, I waved at him).

As a teenager I had a reputation for breaking the family tent at music festivals. I went to three in one summer when I was 18 and during the third one, in front of other witnesses, a mini tornado formed, went toward my tent and two of the three poles snapped. Obviously my parents did not believe me but I was taking better care of the tent!

At 20, I was diagnosed with a rare form of dwarfism and told around 200 people shared the diagnosis. (Diagnosis has gone up as MRI is used more, but it's still uncommon.)

Last week, around 30 years later, I was diagnosed with another rare genetic condition. Around 50 people worldwide share the diagnosis. According to the research I've found, I'm the oldest living person with it and the only one to have children. This condition may or may not be related to the first - nobody knows yet.

I met a strange man at the Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto named Branko. He wore a fur coat, no shirt, tight snakeskin pants and cowboy boots, with his long hair tied up in a bun wrapped with pearl strands.

It was my last day before flying home at 7am and planned to stay out all night before taking the early subway to the train station. He invited me to drive around Toronto and bar hop with him in his big white van. No joke. As a woman in my early 20s I realize this is such a terrible idea, but everyone in the vicinity seems to know and love this guy so I figure I'm pretty safe. I get in and he's got a skeletal hand as his gearshift, a lawn flamingo handcuffed to the back sliding door, and two skulls mounted on the dash. Plus a full drum kit and suitcases of strewn clothing in the back.

We hit a few bars, neither of us even drinking, just finding live music and meeting people. Picked up another fella on the way and he joined us for a few rides before leaving. Got the best pho of my life at 3am and watched the sky get light before he dropped me off at the station. He's a real guy and you can find him on instagram wearing exactly what I described. It's like his signature fit. Nobody believes this happened exactly as I've described. He's one of the kindest and most unique people I have ever met.

When I was four years old, I contracted the worst case of juvenile staph infection in the history of recorded medicine. I had a fever of 111 and blisters the diameter size of dinner plates all over my body that had to be sliced open to drain. I was hospitalized for over a month on IV antibiotics strong enough for an elephant, and my parents had to burn all of our furniture and clothing, along with anything else porous in the house and have hazmat clean and disinfect the entire house. Doctors from all over the world came to study and treat me- luckily, I live outside of Boston and had the best of the best working on me. I am in the Merck Manual, the New England Journal Of Medicine, and JAMA, among others. Still hold the record to this day!! I don’t remember much of it, except the doctors making me chickens to play with out of rubber gloves. I have zero scars or lasting effects.

Watching Alfred Hitchcock’s the birds, and as the credits to the movie started to roll, a bird hit our bay window.

Went to an amusement park that had a roller coaster with an inverted loop.

My brother said "wouldn't it be funny if someone puked at the top of the loop"

It was like he manifested it cuz the second after he said it we saw it happen. (Edit) The car then caught it at the bottom.

Start having UTI symptoms at 15:00. I gets so bad that I have to leave work at 19:00. I get to the ER and produce a urine sample around 22:00 and I'm peeing blood. A lot of it. I proceed to pass out in the waiting room. Wake up ashamed as hell and they take my blood. They tell me to wait for analysis results and an available doctor.

Doctor and lab results are ready around 4:00am. Doctor gives me a lecture on how I shouldn't have waited so long and let things get so bad and refuses to believe the symptoms started only 13 hours before. I feel completely fine. Doctor prescribes antibiotics but I have to wait until the pharmacy opens at 9:00 to buy them. I still feel completely fine, urine is not even cloudy.

Afterwards I took the entire course of antibiotics but it was like nothing ever happened. I had a massive infection go through its entire cycle including curing itself in 12 hours ¯⁠⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯.

Sarah Silverman was behind me in line three times on three separate occasions when I was in LA. She gave me the biggest smile each time and seemed so sweet but I never talked to her. Everyone in her Entourage seemed happy to be there every time.

Fell off a cliff and was mostly fine, got hit by a car at a speed that could have ended me, flew 7+ feet and was fine. (these were 7 years apart.