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TIFU by advertising that I am a swinger

Let me first start out by saying my grandmother was a wonderful, cheerful, and goofy woman. One of my favorite memories growing up is that whenever she burped out loud, she would exclaim “Now that’s what I call a Swingin’ Partyyyy!!!” You can probably see where this is going. Maybe. My wonderful grandmother passed away in 2021 from Covid and I had recently turned 16, followed by me purchasing my first rolling turd of a car (2004 Nissan Pathfinder if you’re curious.) Shortly after her passing, I tried to think of cute and subtle ways I could honor her memory. My clueless 16 year old brain remembered my Grandmother’s after-burp exclamation and thought that was the perfect way to honor her. My aunt has one of those decal printer things, and I asked her to make me a sticker quoting “ Now that’s what I call a Swingin’ Party!!!!” She apparently didn’t see a problem with this either. So I apply the sticker to my car and marvel in its sparkly purple glory. Keep in mind that this is a very large sticker, taking up about half of my rear window. After driving around for a few weeks, I notice the first half of the sentence on the sticker peeling off, so I think it’s a good idea to just peel that part off, just leaving “Swingin’ Party!!!” No alarm bells going off yet in my idiot 16 year old brain. I drive around like this for another month or so until one day I have to do a late night Walmart run. It was about 9Pm and as I was walking to my car, I notice a piece of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. I get into my car and open it, and I am absolutely horrified what is on it. It read, “Hello, my name is David. I noticed your sticker on your car. Give me a call sometime if you wanna have some fun. ;)” He left his phone number on the paper as well. I felt sick as the realization set in. I have been driving around advertising that I was a swinger. AS A MINOR! I still feel dumb to this day. I get home and show my dad the note, and as we both are dying from laughter, we remove the sticker. In its place, was a much more appropriate sticker of my grandmother’s birthday. I’m afraid this memory will haunt me for the rest of my life lol.

TLDR: Grandma died, bought a car, put a sticker on it, received creepy note, scarred for life.

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