Let’s share secrets, big or small

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:As a college student I took a summer job working in the athletic dept at a PAC-10 school where all the big deal team players had to spend half the summer at training camp.

One of my tasks was to deliver mail and collect player mail every day and get it to the post office. They were all bored AF living in the gymnasium, sleeping on cots and not being allowed to go anywhere. They all wrote a lot of letters in the days well before the internet.

One of the team "stars" was well known at the time for his "body count" and had a habit of pursuing female students until he'd slept with them, and then dumping them. One of them was my best friend and she cried on my shoulder for like a year, her grades dropped, she became anorexic and her parents almost withdrew her from school.

That guy would send like 4 letters a day, all to different girls, every day. One day I just got sick of his smug face and how he even hit on me. In a total impulse move, I opened two of the thicker envelopes, switched the contents (didn't read them, though), resealed the envelopes and took them to the PO.

Once classes started up again, I started hearing stories about the guy and how camp was so hard that he mixed his letters up and Nancy got Ashley's envelope, and Ashley got Nancy's. Neither of them knew about the other one. One girl didn't think it was that big of a dealbreaker but the other one went INSANE and sent the whole letter back to him with crazy highlighting and red underlining and I think even routinely called his dorm room at like 3am for the rest of the year.

He went into the NFL for a few years before getting cut and I think he's on his 4th wife now in his 60s.

Probably wouldn't ever be that young and stupid again but I did laugh for a while and sometimes still do.

Best one yet!

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I got engaged at 27 to the woman that has been my wife for 18 years now.

She lived in a row house in Shaw with two other girls. About two months after getting engaged, her work sent her to London for three months. After she went to London I stopped by her house to grab some clothes I'd had there. Only one of the girls was home and long story short, we had sex that day in her bed. And we continued to have tons and tons and tons of sex while my fiancee was overseas.

Then, she came home and we never so much as shook hands again. It was like it had never happned.

Weirdest part? That woman was the maid of honor at our wedding and godmother to our first born.

I have never touched another woman and my wife never found out. We hang out with the woman and her husband probably 3 times a year.

My apartment neighbors during Sr. year were gay and they had a large gay and lesbian friend-group who would all go out together on the weekends. I am straight.

The group included a monogamous lesbian couple. I tagged along with the group to a house party in Adams Morgan, and one member of the lesbian couple came along; she was the more feminine of the two (and this was long enough ago that most lesbian couples often had a more masculine person with a more feminine one. That was then). We ended up making out (and a little more) upstairs that night in the house.

We never spoke about it again, and we lost touch many years ago. I still wonder today if she was ever actually lesbian at all.

[Anonymous]

I saw Harrison Ford at a local burger joint and fished his wrapper out of the trash as a keepsake.

[Anonymous]

ladyboys so fun

[Anonymous]

Made out in the school chapel with my hs boyfriend.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I saw Harrison Ford at a local burger joint and fished his wrapper out of the trash as a keepsake.

Love this. Worth holding onto that trash!

Two years ago, I was in a Southern city that Ford & Flockhart enjoy going to. The word got out that he was in town at the same time. We missed seeing him at one of our favorite restaurants by 1 night. And he was staying in the hotel next to ours. Damn, he was so close, yet so far...

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:ladyboys so fun

Yes!

[Anonymous]

I was posted to a foreign country when a well known symphony orchestra came to the country for a big event. My friends and i were given free tickets to fill seats. We were in the second row orchestra and one of the violinist and I made eye contact early on and just flirted a ridiculous amount. Afterward, I excused myself from my friends and wandered around until I saw him. We went into a storage room and had pretty hot sex. I had to look up his name in the program and he never had my name. I never told anyone, but sometimes I check his career and he is now a first violinist at a very prominent orchestra.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I was posted to a foreign country when a well known symphony orchestra came to the country for a big event. My friends and i were given free tickets to fill seats. We were in the second row orchestra and one of the violinist and I made eye contact early on and just flirted a ridiculous amount. Afterward, I excused myself from my friends and wandered around until I saw him. We went into a storage room and had pretty hot sex. I had to look up his name in the program and he never had my name. I never told anyone, but sometimes I check his career and he is now a first violinist at a very prominent orchestra.

So, from first glance to full on sex in the closet are we talking less than 90 minutes?
Hot!

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Where is a casino story as promised PP?

Atlantic City part 1
This is taking up way more space than I thought it would.


1992, I’m 19 working at a boatyard during the day and going to school at night. I’d mostly help haul boats out for maintenance, when the boats came out the bottoms were fouled with barnacles, sea squirts and algae the hitchhikers would knock a couple miles per hour off top speed and cause way higher fuel burn. The boats were coming out for mechanical or electrical repairs so it made sense to clean the hulls when the opportunity was there. I’d take a steel blade scraper on a 4’ wooden handle and my job was to scrape all this crap off, barnacles would burst, squirts would do their thing and when the hull was clean I’d be covered in mashed sea life- like you opened a thousand oysters with a baseball bat, it sprayed everywhere.

In addition to maintenance and repair the marina provided a launch service, the harbor was tight so there wasn’t room to tie up many boats on the dock but you could keep your boat on a mooring in the harbor and from six am to midnight seven days a week there was a launch available to take you and your friends out your boat and then bring you back to shore when you were done.

In between scraping and cleaning my job was to run people out with a pontoon boat that had seating on three sides. I’d help them onto their vessels with coolers, steady shaky guests as they crossed onto the owners boats, once they were all on their boat I’d leave them to their day of drinking, fishing and sailing around. Most would come back before dark, once they were tied off to the mooring they’d give three short blasts on the horn or would call me on VHF. When it was time to pick them up they’d be sunburnt, drunk, sometimes bleeding from foreheads and I’d reverse the process and bring them back to the dock, help them offload and if they were in really rough shape I’d carry all I could back up to the parking lot to load their casualties and coolers into the car. Tips were appreciated but not necessary and usually consisted of warm beers that they could no longer stand the sight of. During the week it was pretty quiet but the weekends were busy and I worked every other till midnight.

The customer that asked me to go to Atlantic City owned a few restaurants, one of them turned into a club at night and didn't check ID if you were dressed well, I was a frequent customer but I didn’t know him from there. I’d take him out to his boat maybe once during the week and once on the weekend, his was a 65’ ketch and most times he’d take it out by himself, three sails to manage by one person seemed crazy but he always came back happy. A few times he asked for help and I’d tie the launch off to his boat to help him set up a spinnaker, it’s a sail that’s made from much thinner material than normal and only used when the wind is really light, spinnakers are gigantic- like completely cover a townhouse huge. We’d work together to get it all clipped in, I’d crumple it up at the bow and bear hug to compress it, tie up with a rope so he could let it go when out of the harbor.

I got to know him over about nine months, sometimes he would come down to check on his boat and we’d talk, he was great with a story, an easy laugh and he remembered every single thing I told him no matter how small the detail. I had another job in addition to the marina and going to school, I think he was sort of impressed by it because every time he’d see me he would say this nickname he gave me along with “don’t stay in bed unless you make money in bed, go get em kid!”. There was a storm Saturday and he came down to check on his boat on Sunday morning, we got to talking and I told him about how I lost nearly all my weeks pay gambling with my friends the night before. He said, "if you’re up to it would you mind taking a ride down to Atlantic City for me?”. I told him I had work and school all week but I could go next Saturday, I figured he needed me to pick up a boat part or something.

The following Friday I went to his house, it was beautiful inside and it sat up on a hill overlooking the sound. There was a woman cooking who didn’t even look up at me, he led me to his living room which looked out at the water and sat right next to me which felt weird because there was like 20’ of couch, there was a resin coffee table with a nautical star in it.
He handed me an envelope and told me to open it, it was all $100’s. I slid the bills out and counted them into piles of a thousand.
“Five thousand,” I said when I was done.

“Take two and put it in your pocket, put the other three back in the envelope.”
I did what he said.
“What’s in your pocket is yours, but you’re gonna spend what’s in the envelope exactly how I tell you.”

“Listen to me” He leaned forward and was really serious.

“You need to be at the front desk of the Tropicana Saturday between five and six. You can only check in with the Spanish girl, if she’s not there you wait. You might have to jump out of line, I don’t care. Only the Spanish girl, just her.” (I realize this sounds racist now but its what he said)

He handed me a second thinner envelope.

“Give her this when you check in.” I nodded and tried to seem cool but I was so exited I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Go up to the room, listen to me, relax for half an hour. Then go down to the blackjack twenty-five-dollar tables, sit at the end, when you’re losing, put out a hundred a hand, when you’ve got about a thousand left, take the other thousand and play roulette until it’s gone”.

“When you’re done, go back to your room, order a steak with French fries and a double Tullamore Dew neat with a separate glass of ice and do not leave until the morning.” "Just leave, no breakfast, just get your car from valet and leave".

He looked me dead in the eye for all the instructions and it felt like I was already in trouble, like my mother discovering the vodka that was 90% water.

“This might not seem like it, but it’s a job and I need you to do it exactly and only how I say.”

"This is just you going to AC, no Betty no Veronica, only you, you understand?”

So what the H happened?

Not sure, but connecting the dots I think our barnacle scraper ended up taking a dump in a CVS in Atlantic City. Either that or the scraper banged a fiddle player. 🤷🏾‍♂️

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:ladyboys so fun

Yes!

Care to share?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I saw Harrison Ford at a local burger joint and fished his wrapper out of the trash as a keepsake.

In 2012ish I was in NYC visiting friends and stood at the corner of 16th and Irving waiting to cross. Michael Keaton stood immediately to my right and bumped into me. I'm 5ft 7 and he barely came up to my forehead. He has to be 5 ft 4 at best. No idea how they hide that for so long.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Where is a casino story as promised PP?

Atlantic City part 1
This is taking up way more space than I thought it would.


1992, I’m 19 working at a boatyard during the day and going to school at night. I’d mostly help haul boats out for maintenance, when the boats came out the bottoms were fouled with barnacles, sea squirts and algae the hitchhikers would knock a couple miles per hour off top speed and cause way higher fuel burn. The boats were coming out for mechanical or electrical repairs so it made sense to clean the hulls when the opportunity was there. I’d take a steel blade scraper on a 4’ wooden handle and my job was to scrape all this crap off, barnacles would burst, squirts would do their thing and when the hull was clean I’d be covered in mashed sea life- like you opened a thousand oysters with a baseball bat, it sprayed everywhere.

In addition to maintenance and repair the marina provided a launch service, the harbor was tight so there wasn’t room to tie up many boats on the dock but you could keep your boat on a mooring in the harbor and from six am to midnight seven days a week there was a launch available to take you and your friends out your boat and then bring you back to shore when you were done.

In between scraping and cleaning my job was to run people out with a pontoon boat that had seating on three sides. I’d help them onto their vessels with coolers, steady shaky guests as they crossed onto the owners boats, once they were all on their boat I’d leave them to their day of drinking, fishing and sailing around. Most would come back before dark, once they were tied off to the mooring they’d give three short blasts on the horn or would call me on VHF. When it was time to pick them up they’d be sunburnt, drunk, sometimes bleeding from foreheads and I’d reverse the process and bring them back to the dock, help them offload and if they were in really rough shape I’d carry all I could back up to the parking lot to load their casualties and coolers into the car. Tips were appreciated but not necessary and usually consisted of warm beers that they could no longer stand the sight of. During the week it was pretty quiet but the weekends were busy and I worked every other till midnight.

The customer that asked me to go to Atlantic City owned a few restaurants, one of them turned into a club at night and didn't check ID if you were dressed well, I was a frequent customer but I didn’t know him from there. I’d take him out to his boat maybe once during the week and once on the weekend, his was a 65’ ketch and most times he’d take it out by himself, three sails to manage by one person seemed crazy but he always came back happy. A few times he asked for help and I’d tie the launch off to his boat to help him set up a spinnaker, it’s a sail that’s made from much thinner material than normal and only used when the wind is really light, spinnakers are gigantic- like completely cover a townhouse huge. We’d work together to get it all clipped in, I’d crumple it up at the bow and bear hug to compress it, tie up with a rope so he could let it go when out of the harbor.

I got to know him over about nine months, sometimes he would come down to check on his boat and we’d talk, he was great with a story, an easy laugh and he remembered every single thing I told him no matter how small the detail. I had another job in addition to the marina and going to school, I think he was sort of impressed by it because every time he’d see me he would say this nickname he gave me along with “don’t stay in bed unless you make money in bed, go get em kid!”. There was a storm Saturday and he came down to check on his boat on Sunday morning, we got to talking and I told him about how I lost nearly all my weeks pay gambling with my friends the night before. He said, "if you’re up to it would you mind taking a ride down to Atlantic City for me?”. I told him I had work and school all week but I could go next Saturday, I figured he needed me to pick up a boat part or something.

The following Friday I went to his house, it was beautiful inside and it sat up on a hill overlooking the sound. There was a woman cooking who didn’t even look up at me, he led me to his living room which looked out at the water and sat right next to me which felt weird because there was like 20’ of couch, there was a resin coffee table with a nautical star in it.
He handed me an envelope and told me to open it, it was all $100’s. I slid the bills out and counted them into piles of a thousand.
“Five thousand,” I said when I was done.

“Take two and put it in your pocket, put the other three back in the envelope.”
I did what he said.
“What’s in your pocket is yours, but you’re gonna spend what’s in the envelope exactly how I tell you.”

“Listen to me” He leaned forward and was really serious.

“You need to be at the front desk of the Tropicana Saturday between five and six. You can only check in with the Spanish girl, if she’s not there you wait. You might have to jump out of line, I don’t care. Only the Spanish girl, just her.” (I realize this sounds racist now but its what he said)

He handed me a second thinner envelope.

“Give her this when you check in.” I nodded and tried to seem cool but I was so exited I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Go up to the room, listen to me, relax for half an hour. Then go down to the blackjack twenty-five-dollar tables, sit at the end, when you’re losing, put out a hundred a hand, when you’ve got about a thousand left, take the other thousand and play roulette until it’s gone”.

“When you’re done, go back to your room, order a steak with French fries and a double Tullamore Dew neat with a separate glass of ice and do not leave until the morning.” "Just leave, no breakfast, just get your car from valet and leave".

He looked me dead in the eye for all the instructions and it felt like I was already in trouble, like my mother discovering the vodka that was 90% water.

“This might not seem like it, but it’s a job and I need you to do it exactly and only how I say.”

"This is just you going to AC, no Betty no Veronica, only you, you understand?”

So what the H happened?

Not sure, but connecting the dots I think our barnacle scraper ended up taking a dump in a CVS in Atlantic City. Either that or the scraper banged a fiddle player. 🤷🏾‍♂️

Part two has been dictated it just needs to be cleaned up.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:ladyboys so fun

Yes!

Care to share?

You first…

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:My father wears sneakers in the pool.

I helped Alec Baldwin change a tire in 1990 and he thanked me by shoving an eight ball of cocaine in my shirt pocket.

I intentionally sunk a boat on the Connecticut side of the Long Island sound.

I gave Dee Snyder the finger when he was in the dairy barn drive-through buying eggnog and a 2 L bottle of Pepsi.

I was paid $2000 to check into the Tropicana in Atlantic City under a different name to intentionally lose $3000 (took 30 minutes), ate a steak in my room and checked out the next morning at someone’s request.

I’ve only slept with one woman in my entire life, I’m handsome, charming and tall, we’ve been married for 25 years and she still doesn’t believe me that she’s the only one.

I was abused as a child by a man that lived across the street, his wife caught him but instead of comforting me or calling the police she hooked her finger inside my ear, twisted it really hard and said that if I told anybody she would tell our landlord to throw me and my mother out on the street. I never told anyone and it went on for probably another six months.

This was fun, I feel better, thanks!

Where is the Tropicana story PP?!