Cliche/Iconic moments that have actually happened to you.

It’s a little wierd to explain, but I’m thinking about the kind of iconic moments in life that have become novelist or screenwriter shorthand to get the exact situation across, without wasting time detailing the particulars, just an easy situation report. But things that have really happened to you.

Me: I spent 16 hours in a dirty, broken down bus station with no job, no where to live, and only pathetic change to my name in toto. Disturbingly empty and echoey except for an occasional bum wandering in, and the worker behind heavy bullet-proof-glass coming out of the back office to anwer the phone every couple hours. On a ticket a friend I called had bought over the phone for me to get the hell out of there.

Having the door to my empty apartment (well, dorm room) close and lock behind me just as I realized I didn’t have my key on me. On account of me being in my underwear and socks, and having just stepped out to grab something from the hallway that was a little bit further away from my door than I expected.

I got laid because I was in a band.

I can barely tell this story because it sounds so outrageous, but I played jazz flute briefly in a college band, and I totally sucked. I’d taken lessons for like a year. But, some girl figured out my name, called me, and we met and fucked.

And, I sucked in the band, and it was the only band I’ve ever played in, and there are thousands of guys who don’t suck who have played in bands and never gotten laid from it. I should probably feel bad about that. I probably would if I wasn’t getting laid. :stuck_out_tongue:

I was on a multi-state road trip ages ago, meeting a couple of women attending college in Missouri (I’d met them on ISCA; anyone on here use that back in the day?), taking one to visit her boyfriend in Wisconsin, the other to visit her girlfriend in Iowa. We were all kind of giddy and stuff, knowing we were all doing something stupid, as we didn’t really know each other, and…?

Mid-way through the trip, heading back from the visits, on a lonely interstate in the middle of the night and the middle of nowhere. One woman shot-gun, the other in the back seat, both asleep. sput sput sput

As they both kind of woke up, they mumbled “what’s going on?”

“Hey, I think we’re out of gas.”

And immediately, I thought of the old cliched “hey, we’re out of gas” ruse when driving with a woman in the middle of nowhere. And… so did they.

Luckily, things went well after that-- I immediately got out of the car, grabbed the gas can, and started walking, whereupon they realized I was not doing this as a ruse, and they joined me for the walk-- but once the car was back on the road (fuel pump went bad, I had AAA, and there was a nearby garage who charged $50) and we were all cheery and talkative again, they told me “We thought you were going to rape or kill us!”

As cliche a moment it was for me, I can’t imagine what their experience had been like; if even for a few seconds, they were completely scared.

I lost my virginity the first day of college, to a not-very-attractive girl who lived upstairs from me. All the guys in the dorm razzed me about plunking the fat chick with dirty hair. But, I got laid and they did not.

As a total cliche, I was an evasive jerk to her for the rest of the school year. If you’re out there reading this, Val, I heartily apologize.

I slipped on a banana peel walking to my car one morning a few years ago.

I managed to do sort of a ‘split’ and pulled a muscle in my groin area instead of falling on my ass or cracking my head open.

Not a movie cliche, but…

I was hiking on the Appalachian Trail with some friends when it started to rain around sundown, and we hadn’t reached the shelter yet. I have a hard time sleeping in a tent so I wanted to go onward. But they insisted we stop for the night, and it rained literally 5 inches that night, and two of the three of us were soaking wet from the rain.

Right over the very short ridge, around 200 yards from where we camped was the shelter.

I have stepped on the business end of a rake and had the handle come up and smack me in the face.

I have also been walking on the sidewalk and gotten drenched by a wall of water literally five feet tall from a passing car.

I have gotten stuck in elevators twice.

Additionally, I saw this but did not do it: A young (like 13 years old) male was chasing his much older brother around a park, beating him quite easily, turned to look behind him to see how far back brother was, grinned, then turned to face the tree that was in his immediate path. He actually bounced against the tree trunk before he fell. He was fine, but big bruise/black eye almost immediately. I told the parents, I’d vouch for them shoudl CPS become involved (“sure, he ran into a tree, happens all the time”)

I once walking into a room with a glass of soda & ice cubes. I asked my sister “Where’s my change?” She swung her hand with the change in it behind her, managining to hit my glass and have an ice cube pop up and smack me on the nose.

Ooh, that reminds me. I have both slipped on a banana peel AND stepped on a rake, resulting in the pole end coming up sharply to hit me in the face with a THWACK!.

Both times, I did so semi-intentionally (and not while drunk), to see if the effect would really be as depicted in movies and cartoons. “Are banana peels REALLY that slippery?” “Would a rake REALLY come up that fast and hit me in the face?”

The answers are: YES, and YES.

Poland in the 80s, before the Wall came down. Me at the train station, dark dreary day, light rain, and lots of soldiers (who were just coming back from boot it turns out). It was the cliched behind the Iron Curtain scene, with one lone American standing out in the crowd.

Oh, also, I have been on buses with soldiers, and I have been on buses with nuns in habit. I have not, however, been on a bus with soldiers AND nuns.

In high school, I lost my love interest to my best friend.

I once opened my wallet to show a group of friends that I was out of money, and a moth flew out of my wallet. I have no idea how it happened, but it was truly surreal.


Odd. How about people posting thread ideas that you had 5 years earlier? :wink:

But seriously, here’s mine, copied and pasted from the earlier thread:

*It was the sixth grade and I was your regular… well, “geek” was the word that came to mind, but “unknown” was more like it as I was as bored with the geek circles as I was with the popular kids, the stoners, etc… by the time I got into high school, my apathy had increased to the point where I participated in zero extra-curricular activities, went to zero sporting events, danced at zero dances, etc. And if you think that is something, in Georgia back then, high school lasted for five years instead of the normal 3 or 4 - imagine going to high school for five years and not having a single thing listed by your name in the yearbook during your senior year. In short: I just didn’t want to be bothered.

Unfortunately, in the sixth grade there was a guy by the name of… Michael, iirc. Mike was one of those insufferable bastards we all knew in school - the bully who impressed his friends with his fists and his mouth, particularly against the quiet, geeky types. Luckily I was able to avoid him for the first 2 quarters of school (um, 1.5 semesters?), but a showdown was brewing and it came in March.

Now, I’m a lover and not a fighter ( :wink: ) but I have been in a few schoolyard scrapes before… but that was no help as Mike was a fighter, a fighter who had the sense to wait a few seconds expertly sizing up his opponent before going in for the kill.* So when the time and date was set, I gotta tell you I was scared shiiteless. Backing down was an option; going home by a different route was too an option… after all, a few other kids had done so w/o getting beat up by Mike. Why not I? Why should I get my ass pounded? Yeah, he’ll go back to harassing me, but is that so bad?

Yes, oh yeah, that would be a hundred times worse than an ass-beating. Regardless of what happened, I at least was going to show up - I wasn’t going to be like Brian Hambrick, who didn’t show up for his fight and became the meekest guy in school after that, the kid that even the losers picked on - a state that existed for the next 6 years and likely into college. Fvck that!

So I got to the fight, on the corner of Midvale and Chesterbrook, and Mike was already there. We took off our jackets as the other kids stood back, forming the circle, and putting up our fists, the fight started.

Ow! ****! Damn, that hurt! Mike came out a little strong and a lot cocky, hitting me on the shoulder and the ear. I countered with a couple of jabs, one of which connected a bit because Mike backed off a little for a couple of seconds. The kids were yelling at the both of us of course, but I have no idea who’s (if any) side the crowd was on… usually they just want to see a good fight.

As Mike backed off, the look in his eye made it clear all of a sudden: If this doesn’t end soon, I’m going to get seriously hurt. Hoping to get one good shot in, I looked over Mike’s shoulder as he came in, pointed behind him and yelled


Whereupon the dumb sunofa***** actually looked behind him, allowing me to land the most perfect of rights smack into his jaw - the greatest punch I have ever thrown. Sadly it wasn’t my punch that knocked him out, it was his head hitting the pavement… but he was knocked out cold: I had beaten the bully!

Mike got up after a few minutes, groggy as all hell, and had to get one or two of his friends to help him home. Me, I just walked on home with my one friend, Chris Forsyth, talking about Star Wars and stuff.

I was never picked on again for the rest of my school days. Oh, I had people I had issues with, and one or two more fights, but it wasn’t the same, you know?

As seen through my sixth-grade eyes.

Holy shit, are you me? A couple of real scientists, we are.

dunno. My husband took in a stray itty bitty kitten. He already had a few adult cats, one a really big tom cat. The kitten, of course, did not know there were other critters, walked around the corner of a chair to come face to face (or face to giant paw) with the much larger cat, kitten rises about afoot off the ground, fur stuck out, and a piece of shit shot out it’s ass.

Yes, indeed, ‘scared the shit outta him’ isn’t just a saying.

I met my husband when we got locked into a building together.

I’m sure I’ve told the story before, but we were at a party and hit it off, so we sneaked away for a bit of peace and quiet. Before we knew it, the party had ended and we were locked on to the second floor by a large gate. We had to set off the emergency door alarm and run down the fire escape to get out.