It’s a small office with a big problem. Every day, for the first 30 minutes, someone has to stand at the front desk and greet the world (and the occasional nosy client). The rule? “Everyone rotates—one week each.”

My manager, however, decided that my friendly face should be the office’s “welcome mat.” He keeps skipping the rotation schedule and assigning me to the desk three or four times a week. When I asked why, he replied, “You have a friendly face—make visitors feel comfortable.” Sounds like a glad compliment, right? Except it means I’m always behind on my actual work while the rest of the team gets a head start.

Last week, I politely told him I’d only do the front‑desk shift if the schedule was fair. He looked annoyed and said, “You’re making a big deal out of something small.” Now, my coworkers (who apparently never have to take extra shifts) are calling me dramatic, even though they haven’t been asked to cover the extra work themselves.

I’m not saying I hate being helpful, but I’m not a walking “human receptionist” because I look approachable. Am I the asshole for refusing to keep taking on the extra greeting shifts?

Ever find yourself staring at the fridge, thinking, “If I could just keep buying this one thing forever, life would be great,” and then realizing you’re not a superhero? Well, imagine if you suddenly did! In today’s mind‑bending, pantry‑popping Q&A, we’re exploring the wildest “lifetime supply” scenarios straight from Reddit’s endless imagination.

The Brain‑Tickle of a Lifetime Supply​

The premise is simple: the last purchase you ever made suddenly becomes an eternal treasure trove. Think of the possibilities—unending snack time, perpetual seasoning, or perhaps a never‑ending collection of plastic starships. The comments below capture a few of the most hilariously practical (or not-so-practical) choices people made.

Ever meet that one colleague who seems to have mastered the art of “I’m here but not actually here”? Meet the woman who turns the office into a living‑room lounge, a “no‑obligation” lounge. She’s got a six‑month pregnancy badge, a 45‑minute lunch break (we’re all on 30‑minute lunch duty), and a talent for vanishing from her desk for an hour on a single day—without leaving a note. She’s also a regular in the “Hate‑Speech Hall of Fame,” boasting the occasional “N‑word” and a whole playlist of trans‑hatred jokes. HR has called her in six times this year, yet she still keeps the job, perhaps because she’s pregnant and they’re playing “let’s see if the baby arrives first.”

The Office Olympics (Or “Lack of Work”)​

• Lunch Breaks – 45 minutes of bliss while the rest of us finish 30 minutes of “work” to keep the machines running.
• Bathroom Breaks – 30 minutes that could be spent on the phone or in a conference room.
• Hourly Disappearances – She disappears for an hour, and when you try to call her, she’s as elusive as a unicorn.
• Customer Interaction – She sits off to the side, staring at her phone while customers stare back in confusion.
• Physical Work – While the rest of us lift heavy stuff, she takes a “break” that could have been a coffee break.
• Office Etiquette – “Retarded” and “N‑word” are her go‑to phrases in the presence of customers. She’s also the queen of making fun of trans people, immigrants, and basically anyone who doesn’t fit into her narrow worldview.

The “helpful” coworker (the OP) has taken on the extra physical load, stepping into the role of both a lifter and a customer service rep, all because the original worker chooses to “just sit there.” The whole situation leaves the rest of the team wondering if the woman is a secret office spy, a super‑human, or simply the reason why the boss keeps her on the payroll.

Why No One Fires Her?​

• Pregnancy – The law protects pregnant employees, and HR seems to be waiting for the baby to arrive before taking action.
• Management Frustration – They’re annoyed but not ready to fire a pregnant worker.
• Potential Connections – Rumors that the “father” of the baby might be a higher‑up.
• Unclear Productivity – Because the “helpful” coworker covers for her, the workplace seems to function, so the boss may think she’s not a problem.

And just when you think the office environment is a mess, the favorite coworker who always helped others is fired the very same week. Talk about a “just‑because” moment.

You ever meet that one coworker who thinks “office gossip” is an Olympic sport? Meet Shelly. She just moved to the NYC office, and while the rest of us are busy pretending to be productive, she’s on a mission to turn every hallway into a confessional.

The Great “Friend” Parade
Right after Shelly’s arrival, she starts the “I’m your bestie” tour. Everyone at the water cooler is now a fan of her. The office gossip radar spikes, and the coffee machine is the new gossip hub. She tells us we’re “the best friends ever,” but she has a secret agenda: make sure everyone knows your business—especially your manager.

The “Flirt” Fiasco
Last week, you’re in the bathroom, doing your best “I didn’t see this” routine, when you catch Shelly flirting with your manager in the hallway. She later texts you, “He’s totally into me! He even said he doesn’t like his own tattoos.” You’re like, “What the—?” Then, the next day, your manager asks her for coffee before all his one‑on‑ones. “He better give me a great review today,” she says.
Spoiler: the review is not going to be a good one.

The “Information” Train
You and a coworker, Molly, attend a mandatory AI training. She’s excited, you’re skeptical. Shelly sits next to you, chatting up the person beside her. Whenever Molly and you glance at each other, Shelly drops a rumor about someone quitting the Miami office. “We literally didn’t care!” you think, but the rumor mill keeps churning. Molly’s annoyed, and you’re left with the feeling that your own office life is a public podcast.

The “Personal Secrets” Switcheroo
During lunch with Tony, who’s ranting about his family’s Thanksgiving drama, you vent about your BF’s mom. Shelly overhears and, as if on cue, drops a bomb: “That’s like OP. She has issues with her in‑laws too.” Shock? Absolutely. Shelly has taken your personal drama and turned it into her own gossip gold. You’re left wondering why she didn’t just talk about her own ex‑mom.

The “Leave Early” Scheme
Yesterday, Shelly texts, “I’m leaving at 4:30, come join me!” You reply you’re staying till 5. She says, “I’ll make sure (manager) won’t mind.” Classic. So you switch to WFH for Friday, hoping to dodge her early‑leaving tactics.

The Grand Finale
Today, she’s texting again, inviting you to brunch on Sunday. You’re like, “Sure, if you’re bringing the whole office gossip crew.”

In short: Shelly is like that extra season of a reality show that you never signed up for, but now you’re forced to watch.

I recently landed a gig at a local eatery where the chefs seemed to have taken “friendly” to a whole new level.
Every day felt like a covert operation: the kitchen staff would covertly film me (yes, you read that right—“secretly recording me”) and then invade my personal space like we were in a reality‑TV cooking show.

I tried the diplomatic route. I spoke to management, fired off emails to HR, and even sent a heartfelt note to the company’s CEO (who, by the way, lives in a house with a pet goldfish). Nothing happened.

I’m married, which is a well‑known fact. Yet the chefs would comment, “It’s a shame you’re married,” as if that somehow made it more acceptable to touch my hand.

One night, the kitchen was blasting some funky beats and the chefs decided it was time to dance. One of them grabbed my hand and tried to pull me into a spontaneous salsa routine. I politely declined twice. The second time, I said, “No, thanks.” The third time, I fired back in a voice that would make a motivational speaker blush:

“You think I’m scared to lose this job? I’ll scream and curse at the top of my lungs with all these tables in here! Let me go!”

The chef, apparently taking the challenge as a dare, tightened his grip. I responded with a line that would probably earn a gold star from the Office of Workplace Harassment:

“GET YOUR MOTHER‑FUCKING HAND OFF ME, DUMBASS. HOW CAN A DOG UNDERSTAND NO MORE THAN A 48‑YEAR‑OLD MAN WITH A WHOLE WIFE AND KIDS?”

I’ve had enough of people who think they can push boundaries while expecting you to keep your cool. I promise that if I feel pushed, I’ll make the biggest scene possible—because I’m not about to let random strangers in the kitchen dictate my dance moves.

After a few tense minutes, the chef finally let go. As I resumed my work, he came over and asked, “Why were you mad?”

My reply was a masterclass in sarcasm:

“What do you mean, ‘why am I mad?’ I said no several times, and yet you think your little ‘hand‑holding’ is more important? Of course I’m mad. Stop asking me dumbass questions with answers that are obvious. Go home to your wife and kids, and stop forcing women half your age to dance with you!”

I endured this nonsense for a year. On the night I finally decided to quit, I took my tips, walked out, and never looked back.

Hey guys,
After taking a blood test requested by my doctor I found out that my testosterone levels are low. Long story short I had the option to live with it or try Testosterone replacement therapy. My doctor advised I start at a low dose of 100 mg weekly via intramuscular injection (having to pin myself at home once a week). So like a responsible adult I sourced a local government‑paid program that offers clean syringes and sharps containers to keep people safe (mostly drug users). Me and my wife and kids have been renting a house with her father and stepmom. Which I mean for the most part has been pretty okay. Her step mom is a bitch but we keep the peace and try to conduct ourselves in a respectful manner to save the drama.

Anyways to my dismay, my mother‑in‑law found out about my new prescription as well as the method of which I have to administer it. I was pretty uncomfortable with sharing it with anyone but my wife but somehow she overheard some stuff and now is making a big deal about me having needles in the house and how it’s disgusting and how she doesn’t want them around even though I’ve taken all the extra steps to keep everything clean and safe. So I told her “what if I was diabetic and had to give myself insulin” to which she replies “That’s disgusting, I would die.” Am I the asshole or is she being as unreasonable as I feel she is. I feel like it’s either suffer with an imbalance or please the old hag.

If anyone hasn’t watched Stranger Things and is planning to, this thread contains spoilers.
Stranger Things Season 1 had just hit the streaming services, and the hype was building. A couple of us were chatting about it at work when Mary—who had just joined the conversation—wanted to know what we were talking about. I told her about the show, raved about how much I was enjoying it, and recommended she give it a shot. She thanked me and said she’d watch it over the weekend.

Mary, by the way, was a pretty weird and annoying person. She held a handful of odd opinions, and she was never wrong. Debating her was like a math problem in a universe where the answer was always “yes.” She also had a temper and would snap over the tiniest things, turning the workplace into a mood‑swamp.

Monday came, and Mary was angry as ever. She cornered me in the breakroom and demanded to know why I’d recommend such a “disgusting” TV show to her. I asked her what was wrong, and she launched into a tirade.

She started talking about the episode where Barb gets taken into the Upside Down. According to Mary, it “utterly traumatized” her because she could’t stop picturing her own daughter in that situation. She wagged her finger and yelled, “I’m a mother! Why did you recommend that show to a mother?? I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about what that poor girl went through!” She then lectured me: “When you have a child, you won’t want anyone recommending things like that to you. So you need to think things through more carefully in the future.” I wasn’t about to tolerate her nonsense, so I rolled my eyes and walked away. She brought it up to other coworkers all day, repeating how “shaken” she was.

It’s worth noting that Mary has a son as well, but she didn’t seem to care about Will Byers in the same way she cared about Barb.

When Reddit users get together to brag about the most ludicrous consumer scams, the conversation usually goes from "I bought a $200 watch that turns into a toaster" to "I spent $50 on a product that doesn't actually exist." The latest thread asks the deceptively simple question: What product is an obvious scam that people still fall for? The comments that followed were a delightful mash‑up of culinary nostalgia and pseudo‑science, with a side of tragic health drama. Here’s the full scoop.

I created a burner account just to post this because he knows my Reddit.

We’re both mid‑20s. We’ve been together for 3.5 years, living together for 1. I’m a bartender and work 3‑4 evenings a week, he works a normal M‑F schedule. We make roughly the same amount and split everything 50/50, but I do work less hours than him.

Monday is my grocery day. We agreed when I moved in that I would do the shopping since I can go when it’s not as busy. We have a shared note on our phones where he can add things to our list.

The arrangement was fine for a while, but I started to get annoyed a few months ago. The whole process of shopping, self‑checkout, loading into car, unloading, and putting it all away takes at least 2 hours. Not to mention emptying the old stuff out of the fridge and pantry. I almost always have to take out the trash too.

It wouldn’t be as bad if I didn’t feel he was unappreciative. He gets to open an app and write down requests, then I do all the work. He comes home to a stocked kitchen and pays the same amount as I do. When I’ve brought this up, he thinks it’s only fair since I “work less.”

Today, I had enough. The store was packed due to Thanksgiving. I texted him that they were out of something he wanted and he said to “look harder.” The fridge was full of leftover containers he never revisited or threw away. I texted him that from now on, he’s paying more than half or we’re shopping together on Sundays (our common day off that he says is for resting).

He thinks I’m an asshole for this, I disagree. I may work less but I am no housewife. We split everything down the middle. Isn’t it only fair that I’m compensated for doing all of the shopping every week? The only part that I believe may make me TA is that I agreed to this arrangement. But that was a year ago, and I’m burnt out.

AITA for saying I want to be paid more than half for groceries?

“I’m an experienced chess player, playing this game for as long as I can remember, probably since I was 4 or 5 years old. My extended family loved chess, so I grew up in an environment where I could very easily learn and practice it. My current rating is 1950+.”

“My girlfriend is at a lower intermediate level. She learned chess from me during the lockdown, but then took a long break. She started playing regularly a couple of months ago. She mostly plays online against opponents at her level, but she plays with me almost daily on a physical board. The problem (for her) is, I always win.”

“When she was a beginner, I used to give her wins and tips to help her build the concepts, but now I don’t do that. I believe she should play fairly now, and chess is a game that requires focus, time, and mental effort. Playing it just to give away wins seems too much.”

“However, she gets mildly annoyed. Yesterday, when I was clearly winning, she flipped the board in anger. It wasn’t as a joke, she was serious. This really pissed me, felt disrespected. So I boldly told her to better stick to online play until she starts accepting losses like an adult and handles the game maturely.”

“AITA she got upset”