Overheard conversations in pubs.
As an alcoholic I regularly frequent bars and have heard the odd strange conversation. A couple of tactless ones I recall are:
Overhearing a guy talking to a girl I assumed was his friend about her hands being a little big and something about breast implants. Turned put the guy was asking a complete stranger if [s]he was pre-op' or post-op' -- we never did find out.
In a beer hall in Muenchen, around 2007, during the off season a friend and I overheard an Australian guy of about 50 shout over ot a German gent who looked to be approaching 80 "Hello mate, you don't happen to know where I could get hold of some German army gear -- medals and stuff -- from the 'thirties and 'fourties do you?". I swear even the people who couldn't hear it cringed.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 20:02, 1 reply)

Christmas Cards
Sometimes people include the strangest things with their holiday greetings.

One genealogist I barely knew (we had relatives in common about 300 years ago) discussed the previous year: "A challenging year, particularly in regards to my wife's affair."

My sister discussed her husband's health in the cheery opening lines of her holiday card. No "Merry Christmas", or any of that other rot. Instead: "It was a hard year, with slow healing from the blood clot in hubbie's leg."

But it's all better than the funeral home postcards I used to receive during the holidays, telling me that NOW is the time to reserve a cemetery plot!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 19:34, 1 reply)

A guy at work's dad had topped himself in the shed with a big knife.
He was understandably upset by it all.

For some bizarre reason I thought taking him to watch Stevenage Boro' play Hayes would cheer him up.

He wasn't in a talkative mood, that was OK, if he wanted to have some quite time so be it.

After a perfunctory 'sorry to hear about your dad' I decided to leave it to him to make the running, all I had to do was not say the words 'dad', 'knife', 'stab' or 'suicide'.

5 minutes into the match an appalling back pass from the usually reliable Robin Trott gifted Hayes a goal, and me and my mate had the following chat.

"Jesus fucking christ, what a suicidal pass"
"Ring Of Fire"
"Yes?"
"You're a wanker"
"...yes I know I am"
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Fri 4 Nov 2011, 19:23, Reply)

A boyfriend (now very ex)
Took me out to dinner in a rather posh but very dimly lit restaurant.

Halfway through the meal he said "I can hardly see a thing. You look really nice in this rosy semi darkness though"
(grumpy old ratbag, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 18:13, Reply)

Deliberate Tactlessnessness
So. Some people have a 'mad' mate. As in "Oooh, you should meet my mate. He's MAD, he is! Totally random!" Ok, yes, well done.
My friend Rob, however, is properly certifiably mental, properly unhinged, as well as being a true eccentric (with all the trimming's, including being a border-line alcoholic.

So, he's out one night - fairly blattered on whatever he's been drinking (cider) and whatever massive drugs he was on that night (acid) and he stumbles across this woman rolling around, off her face, in the gutter.
(She's probably in her late 30s / early 40s. I met her once, she tried chatting me up in a nightclub, but that was years before this happened.)

That aside, this quite large woman is thrashing around in a quagmire of her own debaucherous lack of motor control, clearly not having a very good time of her inebriated predicament.
'Poor little sausage,' Rob thinks, 'best she come home with me where I can look after her', and, after asking if she's OK, helps her (not inconsiderable bulk) up, and along to his flat.

So, after a fair struggle along the road with a fairly hefty dead weight, they eventually get back to his flat, where, once she's sat down, starts getting very animated.

"Bleurgh," says Rob, "well, you seem to have woken up, and I'm knackered after dragging you back - fancy a drink?"
"Oooh yes," says this woman - and gets stuck in to the black absinthe like there's no tomorrow, drinking it like water.
Downing it to such an extent, that Rob has to take the bottle away from her, as she's chugging it down like it's the last day of her life.

After several glugs, all that lovely absinthe takes it's toll, and gets her feeling sleepy. She passes out on the sofa, and Rob, happy in the knowledge that this woman isn't going to pass out in the streets open to the elements and 'late night' humanity, goes to bed after a few more ciders . . .

. . .and wakes up in the morning with an obvious hangover, unlike the woman in question, who is lying dead on his sofa.

As you can probably imagine, Rob is slightly upset by this turn of events.

He's pretty hungover and on a mild acid comedown.
All things considered, not really the best way to start the day, when all he wanted was a croissant on the veranda.

Well, he goes through the standard panic / denial / bargaining / realisation chain of consciousness, and calls the police, who arrest him - and take away his clothes (including his only pair of shoes).
Rob calls me and some other friends up the next day - gets us all round to the pub and tells us all what's happened. As you can guess, we're all slightly amazed and shocked.
As you would be.
But not as shocked and obviously upset as Rob is.
As you would be.
And as I said, Rob's quite unhinged anyway, and he was taking this very badly.
So we did the only think we could to get him out of it and cheer him up.

We took the piss.

Totally and relentlessly.

We ripped the shit out of the situation so much, he had no choice but to see the funny side.

Examples include, but are not limited to:

Rob: "Fancy another pint?"
Me: "Yeah sure. But then again I didn't wake up to a corpse on my sofa"

Me: "You ok mate? You look like you feel a little stiff. But hopefully not a great big fat one, you dirty necrophillic cunt!"

Getting back to his flat later in the afternoon, I made a cocktail using orange juice, and the black absinthe in question.
As it was poured in after the ice had been added, the absinthe stayed on top of the orange, making a black layered 'lid' on the orange body.
Rob: "This drink looks great! It needs to be christened!"
Me: "Lets call it: The Floating Sofa Corpse!"

Going into the living room, round his: "I'm not going to sit in any corpse juice, am I?"

And my personal favourite:
Dave (walking through town with us, shouting at passersby, pointing at Rob): "Whatever happens, don't ever accept an invite back to this guy's house! He'll fucking kill ya!"

Thing is, it worked.

All this piss taking snapped him out of it.

I may not be a psychologist, but I'm damn good at taking the piss and being a sarcastic wanker though. And isn't that what mates are for?
(SigourneysBeaver took off and nuked the entire site from orbit on, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 18:06, 8 replies)

May have mentioned this before
I temp'ed for about a year working for some architects who were redisigning the interior of the MOD building.
One of the guys there had been forced to retire from the army after a parachute fail. He'd suffered a spinal injury in the fall; his mobility was saved but he was left with a profound stutter.
One morning he asked if he could have a look through my copy of the Metro - replete with agonising stuttering. I turned to face him and instinctively mocked his stutter by saying "er, er, er, er" whilst looking him in the eye. Not a conscious decision but my brain obviously thought it was the right thing to do.
As I was blurting out this verbal atrocity I suddenly realised what I was doing and wished I could die on the spot. I apologised profusely but it was way too late for that.
Everyone within earshot was slack jawed in disgust.
Phil - if you're reading this - that moment has haunted me ever since (about 10 years and counting) and I really am sorry I was such a prick. You were a top guy, too.
(i.charlius *Two Ronnies Theme*, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 17:39, 1 reply)

He wouldn't let it lie...
As some of you may know I spend a handful of weekends a year in a field with a rubber sword and a bad accent.* The place is full of wizards, dragon, zombies, ghosts, angels, and the usual mix of disguised nobles, false mustaches, and suchlike.
The players are also the full mix of humanity, black white, male, female, and all variations thereof including.

All that scene setting for an incident one afternoon at the tea house.**

A chap, dressed in a slightly shabby lion suit wanders in and takes a seat. Our newest waitress goes to take his order and is met instead with the question "are you supposed to be a man or a woman ?"

She blinks, replies firmly "woman", surmising that he's playing a cat man and may be pretending not to know the difference rather than just being a git.

He looks perplexed and pipes up again "No seriously, I can see you're dressed as a woman. But are you supposed to be a man or a woman..?"

"I'm not 'supposed' to be anything" She says, "I'm a woman". A statement that under normal circumstances would have ended it, but not this time.

He carries on, "But you look like a man..."

"I'm wearing a dress aren't I ? I've got breasts haven't I ?" she replies, visibly angry.

"But you _look_ like a man..."

Before she decides to offer some other level of proof I manage to get the chap outside and sat down where we can have a bit of a chat.
The next twenty minutes or so taken up with explaining to the chap just how much he'd upset the girl and how some people, say perhaps transsexuals in the later stages of treatment, can be a little touchy about gender issues.



*Opportunities for casual racism all over the place when black and white can gang up on green, and all of us can gang on up scaly
**I run a formal Japanese Tea House. My accent is appalling, and cantonese.
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 17:31, Reply)

Number 2
A friend of mine was upset, as a good friend of hers had just had a miscarriage. A few minutes later I was laughing hysterically telling her about the previous evening's South Park episode.

The one where Cartman finds a truck full of aborted foetuses.
I think I even said "Yeah, I'm like these foetuses, I wasn't born yesterday either" which is a great line, but didn't go down too well.

Oops.
(thefuckestuppest cheapened this, on, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 17:24, Reply)

So very bad
OK, 2 stories come to mind. This is the first.

About a year ago my stepsister's dad killed himself. By hanging.

A couple of weeks later we had a family get together to all catch up. There was a long and boring conversation about some shit, and I caught my sister's eye and mimed hanging myself.

I just didn't think of it at all. I felt like a right cunt. Luckily my sister thought it was funny.
(thefuckestuppest cheapened this, on, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 17:21, Reply)

Pub banter
My mate John walked into our local, whereupon the, er, less aesthetically pleasing of the two barmaids stepped forward to serve him.
He didn't bat an eyelid. He just said :

"NOT YOU - the pretty one."

And the pretty one actually served him.
( finnbar has officially retired, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 17:18, 4 replies)

A few years ago I worked in a sales office in London, and we got a new guy in.
He was okay, but quite annoying, and wouldn't listen to anything he was told.

Since I was "training" him it fell to me to have a word with him one day about his severe body odour problem which was grossing us all out considerably. I took him to one side and gently explained; he was (predictably) mortified and promised to do better in future.

Two days later he was being his usual annoying self AND was stinking the place out again, so I took a can of Lynx out of my desk and slammed it on his desk in front of him.

He never stunk after that. It was a pretty mean thing to do though.
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 16:57, 8 replies)

School orchestra comedy act. Or is it?
Apologies for length. Second thoughts my dad never apologiesed for anything so neither shall i!
My dear old dad was a funny 'un. He was always smiling, telling some stupid or rude joke or singing some rude song (that if being sung in the earshot of someone he considered too young to hear rude lyrics he edited spur of the moment) he really was a joker. He also came out with inappropriate comments at the worst times.

Inappropriate occasion #1.
at a school achievement evening where parents gathered around the stage and watched the head teacher distribute certificates to those who did well that year my parents sat in the audience to watch my sister get her certificates for outstanding performance. Other contributions to the evening were a short comedy sketch curtesy of gcse drama dept. Also a performance by the school orchestra. There sit my parents enjoying their evening my dad chuckling away to the comedy sketch. Then starts the orchestra. My school orchestra were not talented. Maybe some of the members if playing solo would have been passable but together they were awful. God awful. Out of tune, out of time really outstandingly bad. The audience is embarrassed. How to react to this, clearly what the school thinks of with pride is being seen by the parents as the worst performance ever, what happened to the music lessons they paid for??? The end of the "music" finally arrives and no one is sure what to do, some scattered clapping. My dad however still thinks it's part of the comedy sketch from earlier (I mean you could only play that badly on purpose surely? It couldn't have been a serious attempt!) he stands up laughing and clapping shouting about how great it was by far the funniest thing he had seen in ages! He receives some odd looks before he sits down still chuckling. At that point my mum tells him that that wasn't the comedy sketch. My dad then loudly proclaims that he doesn't care it was still bloody hilarious.

Occasion #2

In an Indian airport during the early 80s he was at customs with his duty free. Next to him at the desk was a German couple (my dad hated Germans 'cos of the war (sorry Germans but I'm afraid you did bomb his aunties chip shop and for that you will never be forgiven!)). He see the couple finish their business and pick up their duty free bag to leave and realises that the bag the gentleman is holding is in fact my dads!
Dad: excuse me, that's my duty-free.
German : nein nein mine heir ich mine.
Dad: no it's mine.
German nein. Ich mine.
D: no it's mine! I can see what's in it and its definitely mine!! Give it back!
G: (some German beyond my dads comprehension)! Ich mine!!!
At this point the German is ( as my dad put it) "smiling all over his kraut face and hugging MY duty-free to his chest!"
G: ich mine, mien heir!
My dad grabs his expensive looking jacket collar and headbutts him in the face. (plump German woman jumping up and down like a rubber ball at this point)
The shocked bleeding German gent jabbers some German and points to the floor where sits my dads duty free untouched where he left it. My dads reaction? An apology? No. Through gritted teeth he snarls "well it looked like mine"

Oh dad. You idiot.

And this goes to prove that we really are like our parents.
At my uncles funeral (I must have been about 4) the pall bearers put the open casket coffin containing uncle on to a trolley type thing for the duration of the service. I loudly giggle and pipe up "look at uncle les in the wheel barrow with all the flowers on him!" my dad thinks this is hilarious as does mum my deceased uncles sister and even my deceased uncle would have wet himself with laughter at this. Tutts and shaken heads from the other side of the church. Ah well I expect I'll end up coming out with more tactless and inappropriate comments soon enough.
(WineSoaked_Hedgehog If in danger or doubt, lose control, flap about, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 16:50, Reply)

Shortie
I have a long standing illness wot hasn't been diagnosed yet, I have seizures fairly regularly. My friend called me a hypochondriac yesterday when I thought i'd cracked what I've got.
Cow.
(Nigella Pussycat picking baked-in hair from creme brulee, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 16:35, 5 replies)

Everyone on talk keeps calling baldmonkey a fat ballbag.
I know it's meant in a light-hearted way, just like you might joke that someone is a cunt or a spastic, but the fact is it's very hurtful to him because he really is a fat ballbag. He is also a massive spastic.
(PR1CKBOT IS ONLINE, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 16:27, 2 replies)

Je suis appelé
I was aged 8, i was in primary school on monday and french was being taught. For an exercise everyone had to take turns saying "My name is..." in french, which is "je m'appelle ....." and then say their name. so this was going round the class, it was easy, everone could do it and then it was my turn...
I was always proud that i knew the french version of my name. In the exercise you didnt actually have to translate your name, just say Je suis appelé (Bernard,Joe, Mark etc) and then have done. But I thought Id do the thing properly and impress, not knowing the comic significance of an 8 year old boy saying it. when it was my turn, I (named michael) said aloud
je m'appelle michelle
hilarity ensued
also beatings
(MichaelGalethe1st, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 16:22, Reply)

A woman I know
is not remotely interested in fashion, hairstyling, makeup or any of that kind of thing. But still, it was rather tactless of a guy to blatantly ask, to her face, if she was a man or a woman.

Even more tactless when, having discovered that she was female, he then attempted to chat her up...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 15:47, 2 replies)

I have spotted a common formula used to answer this QOTW.
And am pointing out it's use in order to heap scorn on those answering.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 15:40, 5 replies)

"Just after performing a sex act with my partner"
"I said something that could have been phrased better"
(HirsuteGorilla, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 15:13, 5 replies)

"You could have shaved, you know, down there,
like your Dad does."
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 15:02, 2 replies)

Someone asked about my racist grandparents
And I tactlessly revealed myself as a closet racist.

(hides and waits for the resumption of hostilities from last week)
( prince-igor si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:43, Reply)

"Your ass is just as tight as dad's"

(HirsuteGorilla, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:35, 1 reply)

About twelve years ago I decided to lose some weight.
I did this fairly sensibly over a long period of time just by eating less, eating a more balanced diet and a shitload of exercise and sport. All good. Having lost four and a half stone I was out with some mates and one who hadn't seen me in a little while took me aside and asked in a hushed tone: "Are you really getting fit or do you have Aids?"
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:35, Reply)

Over a decade ago in a college in very small town in South West Wales, my friend began courting a girl from London, after months of nagging she agreed to let him cum in her mouth.

Needless to say he barely lasted anytime at all as this was his dream coming true and he quickly delivered his goods which she diligently swallowed, he remained standing, looking down with his post orgasmic smile on his face, as she rose from her kneeling position and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand exclaimed with absolute nonchalance....."tastes like everyone else's".
(fatelvis69, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:16, Reply)

"Does this dress make me look fat?"
No, it's the massive overeating and total lack of exercise that makes you look fat.

What? WHAT? You asked, didn't you?
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:14, 1 reply)

My mum
My mum has little tact, often coming across as rude. Some gems include:

After a haircut "Oh, did you mean to get your hair cut like that?"

After walking past the bathroom, where I'd just shit. "Have you just been or have the pipes backed up."

After I'd struggled to cook a meal for us and accidentally burning a bit "Oh, it's ok, there just a bit carbonated."

After I'd gotten back from the gym, in pretty good shape and feeling good about myself "I wounder when your going to start showing some benefit."

After finally getting a job after a year of unemployments "It's a job, but it's not a carrier."

When I passed my GCSE's with mostly B and C grades. "Imagine what he could have done with a little work." (particularly painful as I'd worked very hard, but always struggled with exams due to dyslexia and dyspraxia.)

When getting contact lenses, after years of having thick glasses. "Your squint is back. Anything you gained by getting rid of the glasses is instantly lost."

And I used to wonder why I had so little confidence.
(Mong goose, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:10, 6 replies)

Thankfully, the answer to the question was 'no'.
About 5 years ago, towards the end of my Nan's life she was in hopital for what turned out to be the last time. At the same time my brother was due to be a Dad any day. The due date came and went, then the next day, the next and another and another. With my Nan getting daily updates at her hospital bedside. 'Has it been born yet?', 'No, Nan, we'll tell you when she's born'. 'Is it born yet?', 'Nan, we promise we'll tell you as soon as she is born' and so on, every day, maybe two or three times a visit 'Is it born yet?', 'No, Nan, but we'll let you know when she is'.

Eventually, just as talk of inducing was on the cards, the labour started, it lasted 36 hours or so, if I recall, during which my Nan was getting more impatient, 'Is it born yet?', 'Not yet Nan, but she's on her way', 'Is it born yet?', 'Nan, we promise we'll tell you as soon as she is here, when everything is sorted, she'll come up for a visit'. My brother came up to visit from the maternity unit, about 24 hours into the labour. Nan asked him 'is it born yet?'. 'Not yet', he said, 'soon though, we hope'. There was a pause, before Nan replied...

...'It's dead, isn't it?'
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 14:08, 1 reply)

Bit of a repost, but it's more linked to the QOTW than when I originally posted it...
I was walking through town one day and got to a set of traffic lights. While I was waiting for the light to turn green and signal my advance, I noticed that to the right of me was a lovely young family. There was a mum, a dad, a baby in a pram and a little kid that couldn't have been more than 3 or 4.

The little kid was holding onto his dad's hand (or rather, a couple of his fingers), like a good boy does, but with his free hand started to pat his dad's stomach, saying (in what you can imagine is a cute 4-year-old's voice) "heee, you've got a big fat belly!".
It was amusing, it made me smirk somewhat, but clearly the dad wasn't amused. He turned around, looked down at his Son, paused for a brief second and retorted with "...You're a twat!".
(Kushan just wants to fit in..to your mum, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 13:59, 2 replies)

My first proper bird
The first bird what let me shag her, was a dirty old thing. The only thing though, was that she was a bit of a porker. I didnt care, she let me spunk in her mouth and that. I was 18, and not used to having to be tactful.

I remember the scene; my parents house, the lounge. 'Rents hopefully sleeping. I'm straddling her ample chest and I've just 'released' into her mouth and she's practically gargling it. Wonderful. I suddenly feel elated, happier than ever (endorphin rush obviously) and I feel connected to her on a level I have never connected with anyone before. I dont mean in a sticky way, but in a, soulmates for ever way. I don't think theres any way I can ruin this moment, just savour it Coke, dont say anyhing, dont say anything.

Kate?
Yes baby?
Have you always been fat? Or were you born normal sized?

I honestly wanted to know, I wasn't looking to offend. We didnt stay together long afer that.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 13:58, 2 replies)

The blushing bride
Mrs Cloud and I married following a ten year engagement, when she was 6 months gone with little cloud #1. She wasn't keen on doing the hitching with her severely distended abdomen (that negative body image thing had already manifested in an eating disorder during her teens which she'd overcome, but she had a hard time dealing with the waif to whale belly stretch of pregnancy), but relented to my late urge of traditionalism.

My mother -who was elated to be becoming a grandmother for the first time- didn't help matters by stating immediately after the ceremony "I don't know what looks better: your bump or your face"
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 4 Nov 2011, 13:47, Reply)