Do you know what's worse than entitled people? Being related to them! Check out these top stories from the kids of selfish, entitled parents.
Karen, That’s Illegal
“I recently had an emergency appendectomy, and recovery has been slow. I had to take time off from my own athletics, but worse, from coaching in the kid’s sports program I’m involved with. It made me self-conscious about exercising in public spaces, but I was starting to finally get over it as friends convinced me the source of the concerns were all in my head.
There’s no way to get back to it other than training, so despite the anxiety, I started running again as soon as the doctors approved it. Occasionally, there were other people at the track but I didn’t really notice because I run with headphones on and try to zone out in these lighter sessions.
But little did I know my friends were wrong. It was not all in my head, I was being watched, and more than that, I was being judged.
On Friday, I was setting up for practice at the kid’s program and the head coach asked me into his office because a parent had a complaint. A parent I didn’t know too well, ‘Karen,’ was there and he said she had specific complaints about me. I was a bit nervous, as anyone is being called to meet with their boss over a complaint, but I figured it was a classic case of ‘My kid should start more,’ or ‘I know my kid tried out as a midfielder but I want him/her to switch to defense,’ that kind of ‘rules don’t apply to me’ thing.
But instead, I sat down in the office, and Karen was playing my boss a video of me running on the track.
She then went on to explain that her eight-year-old son, one of the players on my squad, was lapping me in the video and insisting the coaches needed to hold themselves to higher athletic standards than the young players if they want to prepare them for college teams. My boss patiently but firmly explained to Karen my physical abilities are not the parents’ concern and all personnel is closely managed by the head coaches who understand each unique situation and what’s appropriate and that her son wouldn’t be impacted.
Karen then went on to say my being out of shape was probably connected to why I’d been taking so much time off lately (Uh… technically yes, it is because I was in the hospital.) And complaining that the personnel changeover isn’t good for the kids. My boss again reiterated that the head coaches hadn’t changed or taken any time off and that I was still one of the most skilled in the area I instruct, so this was not her concern.
She asked if there was someone else she could speak to, but he explained that he was the owner and founder of this program, so, no there was not.
I knew my boss was intentionally avoiding saying what had happened to me or even alluding to a health issue, to protect my privacy, but I figured maybe being transparent with her would show her how ridiculous she was being (and keep her tuition dollars in our program during a difficult time for sports clubs.)
But when I explained she just turned to the boss and said, ‘Well maybe you should furlough her until she’s healed and bring on a health coach in the meantime, because my son needs someone out there who can keep up with him.’
My boss respected what I was trying to d,o but made clear we weren’t going further with that strategy to avoid setting a precedent of sharing coaches’ personal circumstances—telling her why people take time off or what their health status maybe is not her concern because the program manages that and makes appropriate decisions.
She kept kicking up a fuss, but the coach finally told her he had to get back out on the field, back to her son and everyone else’s kids.
She started physically leaving but continued fussing about how she was not satisfied and would not be recommending us to other parents.
The coach wasn’t preparing to leave, instead, he stopped her in her tracks to tell her if she was found to be surveilling or otherwise harassing any staff members again, she would be banned from the program — no games or practices, no team social events, no presence in our buildings, and no clemency.
So, that was pretty satisfying. Her son is a good, average, kid and I’m glad the consequences were focused on booting her out rather than limiting his opportunities to have fun playing.”
He Put Her In Her Place
“My mother, sister, and I had wanted to go to a non-specific water park today. We went, and my sister took her baby girl (two and a half years old) with her because she is a stay-at-home mom, and a very good mom at that. However, this day was more of a relaxing day for my mother and my sister. Honestly, they deserved it. They hadn’t gotten any for a while. I was going to spend most of my day in the lazy river anyway. Also, I take care of Katy (fake name) sometimes, so it wouldn’t be too much for me because I’ve done days before and it wasn’t much considering how many times I’ve watched after her beforehand. After most of the day had gone, she expectedly got tired and we still had about an hour left and since the trees covered all of the walking paths, I decided to put her in the wagon we brought specifically for her because we expected her to get tired before we really decided to leave. I started to walk around with her in the wagon and she eventually fell asleep.
This lady with the thickest fake tan I have ever seen in person was walking along the path with her little boy, who was no older than seven, and I assumed she would just walk past me. However, she stopped in her tracks and lowered her too-big-for-her-own-head sunglasses to look me up and down. Me, being an awkward 16-year-old boy, stopped in my tracks too and I looked at her with a slightly scared look on my face, and at that moment I realized that I made a mistake even stopping to acknowledge her. I remembered all-too-late that Karens can sense fear in their victims.
Woman: ‘So. How old are ya?’
Me: ‘Sixteen. Why?’
Woman: ‘What kind of examples do you think you’re setting for the kids here?’
Me, being completely oblivious to what she meant and giving more attitude than I meant to: ‘I beg your pardon?’
The woman, I am assuming, was only taken aback because I used one of her common lines against her, with as much disrespect that she gives when delivering it: ‘Excuse me?!’
I realized at that moment what she meant. At that point, I was just looking to get out of the situation and I started to walk with Katy, who at this point was almost awake because that situation lasted about as long as a stand-off in a western movie. I heard her loud steps behind me and I started to walk faster and faster to the point it was almost a run, which Katy took no notice to. Until, however, I ended up slipping and falling to the ground, onto my face and I didn’t get up very quickly.
As I got up but I realized, in awe, she was attempting to take MY baby niece, not really mumbling about how she could do better than all these early parents. Before she really got her hands under Katy’s arms, I shoved her off, knocking her to the ground, which didn’t disturb Katy much. I screamed at the lady, so intensely that I started to cry, which unfortunately did disturb Katy’s sleep.
‘How could you ever put your hands on someone else’s child, regardless of how old their parents are?! I hope your child doesn’t grow up to be as horrible as you! I know I am not even half as old as you are, but I would be three times the parent you will ever be!’ I roared at her.
Once the ringing in my ears faded and I actually was able to acknowledge the fact Katy was waking up and started to cry, I readjusted her little pillow and started to walk off from her, to not be followed by the lady any further. I resisted the urge to look back, but I imagine her being flabbergasted and walking off with her son in such a huff that she walked too fast for him to keep up.
Katy got to have the rest of her nap.”
“Would You Like To Press Charges?”
“I used to live on the bottom floor of a two-story house in a very popular beach town in North Carolina. I was in my mid-20s. The upstairs was rented out to four college-aged guys. So five people, five cars driveway built for four, so one of us would either be on the grass or in a paid spot, if you had bills with your name and address the city would give you a pass to park in certain paid spaces. So not a big deal but finding a spot in the middle of summer was hard. The house is maybe 100 yards to the beach, a pretty short walk, five minutes tops with beach gear, and little ones. I would leave to work at 6:30 am and return around 5:00 or 6:00 pm. By the time I got home most of the crowds would be gone so a paid spot was easy for me to get. So I’d typically leave the driveway for the upstairs guys. One day I was running late and didn’t get out of my house till nearly 8:00 am, the other guys had left and the driveway was empty. I was walking out to my car and of course, the lots were already 90% full or more. As I was crossing the street I saw a minivan coming up and pull into my driveway. I didn’t recognize it so I waited to see if I knew them or they knew the upstairs guys.
Out stepped a polo shirt-visor-bowling short-dad and overly-peppy-mom with three screaming kids, obviously, no one I know. I backtracked and asked, ‘Excuse me do you know the tenants upstairs or have permission to park here?’
The entitled mother replied, ‘It doesn’t matter no one is parked here and Billy, Bobby, and Barbie have to get to the beach.’
I said back, ‘There are five people living there, myself included and we need to be able to park.’
She was not impressed and asked, ‘Oh, so where’s your car if you live there?’
I replied, ‘In that spot there because I have a pass’
The equally entitled father interjected, ‘Don’t lie to us, you’re here just the same as us and upset we know how to park for free.’
I stated, ‘I’m not lying, dude, it’s 8:00 am, I’m wearing my work uniform.”
The mother spat back, ‘We don’t need to listen to you, we’re going to park and you can do whatever you want. My children have to get to the beach. You’re ruining our vacation so go away.’
Meanwhile, the kids were climbing on my fence and trees in and out of the street. I said, ‘Ok I’ll just have you towed and you can deal with it later.’
The dad got in my face practically nose to nose and screamed, ‘Try it and see. This isn’t your house you’re just a little prick!’
Mind you, I’m 5’11”, roughly 190, and in fairly good shape. I replied, ‘Ok have a nice day.’
So I went to my car and waited till they were pretty much at the beach like I said, a very short walk. Then I went inside, looked up a tow service on the other side of town.
‘Hello yes, I’d like to report a car illegally parked on my property, address, 123 street name,’ I said.
‘Sir that’s an hour away,’ the guy said.
‘Yea, I know I’m not paying, that’s their problem,’ I replied.
‘Ok, be there in about an hour and a half,’ he said.
I called my boss and explained what happened and said I wasn’t going to be able to come in. He’s a pretty easy-going guy and told me to keep him informed. The tow truck arrived and then the van was gone. I left my car in the spot and waited until it was 10:30 am or so. Sometime around 2:00 or 3:00 pm there was a very angry knock at my door. I thought, this gonna be fun. Imagine the shock when I answered the door drink in hand grinning like an idiot.
I said, ‘Can I help you?’
Both of the entitled parents screamed at once, ‘You! Where is our van?! How did you get here?!!??’
I calmly replied, ‘Oh yea, here’s the card had it towed across town, gonna be fun cab ride.’
I shut the door in their face and then there was more angry yelling and knocking
I said, ‘Yes?’ after opening the door again.
The father went off, trying to get in my house, ‘You better get us our van back, I’m gonna kick your butt, I’ll have you arrested.’
I said, ‘Get outta my house and call the cops, it is not gonna change anything.’
I managed to shove him out the door, get it closed, and locked. Now I waited. The next 20 minutes were full of more angry knocking and yelling. Finally, about 4:00 pm I saw some blue lights, and there was a much more polite knock at my door. I grew up on the beach, it is a small number of locals. I know 70% of the locals, police, bartenders, shop owners, residents, I know a lot of people on the island.
So I said, ‘Oh hey Garrett, how’s it going.’
He replied, ‘Yea, it’s good. These people say you stole their van and broke into this house.’
I said, ‘Nope, they pulled into the driveway as I was leaving for work, pulled an attitude, walked away said I couldn’t do anything. So I called Lou on the other side of town. Vans there, I even gave them his card and offered to let them use my phone.’ The mother tried to interject, ‘He’s lying, he stole our car I demand he be arrested.’
The father joined in, storming up behind the officer, ‘If you don’t arrest him I’ll have you fired, this is ridiculous, blah blah.’
Garrett wasn’t having any of it, ‘Sir back up, I’m going to figure this out.’
The father was now shoving past the officer yelling, ‘This is bull!’
He tried to work his way into my house again, Garrett was able to pull him out and managed to get him pressed up against his cop car. ‘Sir, you are trespassing now,’ Garrett told the man and then looked over at me, ‘Would you like to press charges?’
I took the merciful route and asked, ‘Can you keep him in your car until they get a cab?’
I debated pressing the trespassing but, honestly didn’t want to deal with them again.
Garrett agreed saying, ‘Yea, I mean I’ve got to get statements and everything.’
So, I gave my statement, went inside, grabbed a drink, went out the backdoor, up the back steps, and around to the second-floor porch, and there I sat smiling till a cab came about 5:00/5:30 pm. My upstairs neighbors showed up but they didn’t play any part in the story.”
Sir, Not Everything In Life Is Free
“Years ago, my family took a trip to Miami. The people on the trip were my mom, my brother, my dad, and me.
My dad and my brother decided to go out and get Burger King for everyone, while my mom and I checked out the beach next to the hotel. We got down to the beach and saw there were no open beach chairs. Luckily, after searching for about five minutes, we found one open beach chair, among the hundreds of used ones. We put all of our stuff on the chair and decided to go for a swim. After swimming for a bit, we noticed someone was lying on our beach chair.
We quickly got out of the water and walked over to see a man using our sunscreen, and a kid right next to him playing with my toys and drinking my Caprisun (I was about 10 or 11 at the time). My mom tried to calmly explain to the dad the things he and his kid were using were ours.
He then replied with, ‘What? No, they aren’t! These are complimentary, now run along and stop trying to steal our things.’
I’d always been shy and tried my best to avoid conversation, so in the nicest tone possible I said, ‘I’m sorry, please leave, those are our things. They aren’t complimentary.’
The dad then rudely replied, ‘Yes they are complimentary, I come here all the time. I’m good friends with the manager and if you don’t leave he will arrest you.’
I tried to reach for the toys, but the son aggressively slapped my hand, causing me to begin to cry.
EP then with a face of disgust looked us up and down and said, ‘Why are you idiots still here?’
Overall, my mom is a very kind person, but if someone is that rude she will pop off. My mom proceeded to loudly yell at them, cursing and telling them to get the heck away from her and her kids. The son (who I must mention was around 12 or 13) and the dad stared in absolute horror. They both rapidly got off of the chair as fast as they could, leaving our items behind. They sprinted as fast as they possibly could away, and we never saw them again.”
Mask Girl Has Some Tricks Up Her Sleeve
“We were at the dreaded big box store picking up potting soil because we are going to DIY ourselves through the isolation. Things aren’t crazy here yet, but there is a two per customer limit on a majority of items. I assume this means everything, so we’re getting two bags each of a few different types of soil. My husband is loading the last of 8 bags on our cart when I hear her. I know it’s a Karen just by the level of unnecessary outrage in her voice.
Karen: ‘Are you KIDDING me?!’
Not a lot of people out here in the garden center, but we all look to her. I was almost disappointed to see she didn’t come with the requisite haircut. She actually looked like a frazzled mom. Her kid was tugging on her hand with an overfull hand-basket of groceries, and I had a moment of, ‘Girl, I feel you’, But she was pointing at us.
Karen: ‘You can’t buy THAT many! You. Are. HOARDING!’
My husband: ‘Yeah we can, we’re getting two each.’
Karen: ‘Oh you don’t fool me. I know what you’re doing!’
My husband: ‘So do I. Get Lost.’
Well Karen huffed at that, spun around, and yanked her kid back inside to go complain to the employee working the register nearby. Now, we already paid for our items. The employee had come out and scanned the bags earlier and he could easily see our cart from inside. So, being finished, we pushed the cart out of the garden center into the parking lot. And then the automatic doors open behind us and I hear, ‘Now they’re stealing!’
We load the soil in the car and turn around to bring the cart back and look at plants. By the time we get back, Karen has given up on trying to convince the employee we’re the Bonnie and Clyde of Dirt and is now trying to negotiate skipping somebody in line. She has a child, you see, and her hand-basket, well it’s just so full and heavy. The woman Karen is trying to skip is young, maybe college age, and wearing a mask. Not a medical mask, but the stretchy kind you’d wear while riding a motorcycle or when you’re skiing. The mask is black and has like scary wolf teeth on it that honestly made the girl look like somebody you should not mess with, even though she was wearing a GAP t-shirt and flip-flops. Mask Girl is just shaking her head no, and that’s all I got as we dropped off the cart.
I browse, pick up a couple plants, and we head inside to wait in line. Now it’s showtime.
Karen and Mask Girl are near the register facing off, no pun intended. From the looks of things, Mask Girl finished her purchase and Karen stopped her before she could leave. I don’t know if she grabbed her or anything, but Karen was still holding her full hand-basket so she hadn’t checked out yet. Well, she hadn’t paid for her groceries yet, because clearly this woman had checked out.
Karen: ‘But you don’t even need it now, you’re leaving. My son could get sick because you won’t give it to him and he needs it!’
Mask Girl: ‘No, you can’t have it. Back off, lady.’
Karen: ‘But my son really likes it and it’s obviously made for boys anyway, why would you even want to wear something so scary?’
Mask Girl: ‘Because I like it. And it has my germs on it, why would you put a stranger’s mask on your kid?’
Karen: ‘Ugh, why are you being so rude? You wouldn’t let us go through the check out first and now you’re making my son very upset!’
Mask Girl: ‘Your problem, not mine.’
And then Mask Girl turns to leave while Karen suddenly grabs Mask Girl by the back of her mask. Karen reaches out, people on both sides of me inhale loudly, Karen grabs the mask and yanks, a lady on my right yells, and my husband steps forward. Mask Girl tucks her head down and she turns to Karen like an upset bull with a bright and shiny new target. I think Karen was going to say something like, ‘Don’t walk away from me!’ or something, but all she got out was ‘Don’t-‘ CRACK!
I looked around because the noise was so loud, I figured the roof was about to cave in, but out of the corner of my eye I see Karen spasm and drop to the floor writhing. Little Miss Mask Girl had a taser! I don’t know when she pulled it out, but she laid Karen out with it. And not one of us moved for what felt like forever, like we were frozen. And then it was complete bedlam. Security guard shows up, more employees show up, Mask Girl is chilling like she’s been through this before and knows what comes next. The kid is screaming that the wolf girl killed his mom even though she’s groaning and sobbing on the floor and clearly not dead but maybe wishing she was, the people that had been in line with us were all talking at once trying to tell the security guard what happened.
We hung around just witnessing the insanity for maybe two minutes before Karen started choking out demands for an ambulance, the police, a lawyer, the mayor, restitution, and reparations. My husband made eye contact with an employee and got a thumbs up when he put the plants on a shelf and pointed towards the door. We got out of there super fast.
We drove home in silence until my husband parked the car in our driveway, and then we just burst out laughing. Neither of us have ever seen anything like that before. We live in a small beach town, where people are super laid back and mellow. Karen was anything but, and I hope to never see her again. Take care of yourselves and stay safe!”
Won’t Keep Her Hands To Herself
“I’m sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room while a family member is being seen. Headphones in, doodling in a notebook, nibbling on an oversized chocolate chip cookie. A woman and her maybe three-year-old daughter sit a few seats away from me, and the kid immediately starts screaming. ‘Cookie!’ at the top of her lungs repeatedly. I turn my music up and try to tune it out, until the lady leans over and YANKS an earbud out of my ear. I let out an expletive, because it caught on my earring and really hurt and surprised me.
I just sat through a five-minute lecture about how I shouldn’t use that language in the presence of a child and how ashamed of myself I should be, and what do I have to say for myself? Meanwhile, the kid is oblivious and still just screaming, ‘Cookie cookie.’ I told her that I wouldn’t have used that language had she kept her hands off my property and not caused me pain by almost ripping my earring out of my skin.
‘Well you’re going to give my daughter your cookie to make up for being so foul in front of her!’ and she reaches into my lap to grab my cookie.
I push her hand away (because the cookie was in a paper bag between my legs, so she was literally grabbing at my crotch), and I tell her that she can buy her own cookie, and if she reaches for me or my items again, she’s getting reported for harassment. The receptionist, who has been watching all this, finally speaks up. She says she’s willing to call the police if I’d like and back up my statement.
I don’t feel like dealing with that, and it seemed to calm down the mom, so now I’m sitting here listening to my music and taking the smallest bites possible. I’m acting like this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever eaten, while making eye contact with her. She’s glaring at me and keeps telling her kid, ‘The mean lady won’t share her cookie,’ and I’m going to make them watch me enjoy eating this for as long as possible.
Side note: who on earth takes food from a random stranger to give to their kid? What if this was an edible? What if I had medicine in it? How are people so stupid and irresponsible?”
No Means No, Lady
“I’ve got a pet cockatiel named Pikachu. I take him for ‘walks’ in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. I’ve got a little harness and a leash, it’s adorable, and he doesn’t seem to mind wearing it. He and I enjoy the fresh air and warm summer weather. I try to avoid crowds because he gets nervous, and when he gets nervous, he begins to fly off of my arm, being restrained only by the leash, which is wrapped around my watch for extra security.
Anyway, I was approaching Bulldog Pub one day when a woman walked up and asked me a few questions.
‘What type of bird is it?’, ‘Is it expensive to take care of?’ You know, typical questions for somebody who might aspire to own a bird one day.
Then, in this flurry of conversation, she asks me if she could have my bird. I got confused, and say no, of course. She then goes on to explain that her fifteen-year-old daughter got ‘honor roll in school this marking period, she’s always wanted a bird, etc.’
I said no, he’s mine, I’ve had him for a year. She got a frustrated look on her face, and said she’ll get the bird herself, and began digging into her purse. I began to walk away, when I noticed her coming at me with miniature scissors and, get this, begins to cut the leash. Pikachu got startled by the rapid movements and tried to fly away from the strange woman. I pushed her away, gently restrained Pikachu, and ran back to my house. She didn’t follow me, probably in the fear that I’ll call the police. Anyway, Pikachu was shaken, but he’s alright.”
Karen Missed An Important Detail
“My friend who’s Russian traveled to the U.S. once to visit his cousin. They were eating at a café after he landed at the airport. They both started to speak Russian, and this ‘Karen’ walked up and said, ‘WHY ARE YOU SPEAKING A FOREIGN LANGUAGE?’
He turned to her and said, ‘Ma’am, we are trying to have our coffee in peace. Please leave us be.’
He speaks English well but has a strong accent. Karen returned with, ‘I’M CALLING THE POLICE, YOU NEED GO TO YOUR OWN COUNTRY.’
She then stormed off. When she came back, she had a hand mark on her cheek and was being followed by security. She obviously slapped herself or something crazy like that because it apparently looked like she was beaten. The mark was done with the left hand.
Security rocks up and asked, ‘Did you assault this woman?’
‘HE SLAPPED ME AND STOLE MY WALLET,’ Karen screamed.
The security was ready to take him out of the café when he put up his left hand. He was missing two fingers on it. The mark on the lady’s cheek has five. She then looked puzzled. Long story short, she was taken from the building and my friend got a free coffee.”
It’s Shocking She Did Not Get What She Wanted
“This just happened. I was having a great morning with my wife and kids when my neighbor texted me. We have never spoken in the six or seven years that we have lived here, and she has always given my family and me dirty looks. This never bothered me, but it always bothered my wife. We never knew why she did this, but today we found out. Side note: Her husband seems like a decent guy who just acts like he is defeated by his wife. The few times that I have spoken to him, the conversation has always gotten cut short because his wife needed him for something.
My house has a very long driveway. The driveway leads up a hill to my house at the top. The bottom quarter of the driveway is shared by my two neighbors. They have to drive up it to get into their garages. My side yard overlooks one neighbor’s backyard while my backyard overlooks the other’s backyard. My pool is in my backyard.
Basically, she wants me to give her my driveway so she can build an in-ground pool for her kids. Her kids are a nightmare and she has never controlled them. She just lets them run around and do whatever they want all day. I still don’t fully understand why she needs the rights to my driveway to do that, but she did not like being told no. If I’m being honest, I did get angry and a little immature during the conversation, but I felt it was warranted for the situation. She thought that threatening and making terrible comments about my kids would be the best way to get me to do what she wants.
But no lady, that did not work and never will.”
That’s Some Powerful Pasta
“A couple of nights ago I was cooking for myself, which is a rare thing these days. I was making a pasta bake with a bacon tomato sauce that I wanted to try. It was going well, basically, all finished I was just waiting for the garlic bread to cook in the oven.
Now, the extractor fan for my kitchen is on the wall right near the pavement outside. So that’s where it vents the heat and whatnot from cooking. I can also hear people’s conversations through this hole, like word for word if the road is quiet.
I’m about to check the oven when I hear a knock at my front window, and see an angry-looking dude staring at me. Like, he was standing SO close to my front window, he could see me, through the net curtains.
I cautiously went to the door in my cooking apron with a large wooden spoon.
Entitled Dad (known as ‘ED’): ‘Are you cooking?’
Me: ‘Uh, yeah. Some pasta.’
ED: ‘Can you stop? The smell is making my daughter feel ill.’
Me: ‘Uh. That’s, not my problem, Sir?’
ED: ‘HOW DARE YOU. It’s making my daughter ill, now stop it right now.’
Me: ‘Sir. I am in my own home, I allowed to cook whatever I want. If the smell is making someone sick, go away from the smell.’
ED: ‘UGH!’ stomps off in a right mood
Me: returns to the kitchen and continues cooking
ED: from outside I hear through the extractor fan hole ‘He won’t stop, he was very rude to me and threatened me with a rolling pin!’
Did I? Rolling pin, for making pasta huh? Sure.
The next part was a little hard to hear, he must have walked further up or down the pavement or something as I couldn’t hear it all. I think he was on the phone with his poor wife, because not long after a woman came hurrying up to my window and tapped on it.
Mother: ‘Hello? My husband said you made my daughter sick!?’
Me: ‘Miss. I was cooking my dinner in my kitchen, your other half then banged on my window saying the smell made your kid ill.’
Mother: says nothing and walks away in silence
Heard nothing from the fan hole. No idea what happened.”