Everybody knows one person who makes them wonder 'how are you alive after all of that?'
Maybe they're an adrenaline junkie always chasing the next big stunt, or they run with a seedy and unsavory crowd, or perhaps they're an endless tidal wave of destruction all on their lonesome. Whatever the cause, these people live in a constant state of danger, and it can be wild to witness.
My dad eats mushrooms from his backyard, and hoses out his toaster and hangs it by the cord on the washing line to dry.
My mom has totaled around 5 cars. Shes a terrible driver, shouldn't even be on the road. If she's driving Ill say 'I'll take my car and meet you there.'
My BILs best friend who works for the government. He’s not allowed to tell us what he does and all we know he leaves for a couple of weeks at a time every few months, speaks several languages and looks like he’s cut out of wood. There was one time where he came over to a party I was having and I’d set up some VR games for people to try.
There was a game where zombies attack you from all sides and it’s all about keeping your head on a swivel and headshots. I don’t remember the specifics, but none of us had gotten past level 2 or 3. He made it to something like 30 without breaking a sweat. It was his first time playing that game and he hasn’t gamed since SNES days. Everyone that saw him play/move that day agrees he’s probably not working in IT.
EDIT: I had no idea this would get this much attention so let me clarify some things.
I’ve never asked him what he does, I just heard “he can’t talk about it” so I don’t bring it up.
I’m not saying he’s Jason Bourne. All I know is that he was in the army and I think I remember someone mentioning he went to Ranger school.
His job sends him all over the world. In the time that I’ve known him (about 5 years), he’s lived in the UK, Philippines and Africa.
This one is from a completely personal point of view, but he definitely has a “I’m not going to f**k with that guy” vibe. He’s a super nice guy that’s never shown an ounce of aggression, but I think if you asked him during dinner how many people are in the booth 3 tables over, he’s be able to tell you without looking.
Former high school classmate who became a cop and started a p*d*philia ring, eventually crossing multiple state lines and trading services for video game systems, all while ab*sing neighborhood children. May he rot in the federal penitentiary that currently houses his nasty a*s.
My neighbour Frank is from Sicily. He smokes in the supermarket, drives like a nutcase, can swear in three languages. He's 80 years old and he was drinking limoncello on his roof this morning. One of my favourite people.
My grandfather, wonderful, kind and caring man. Won a military cross for exceptional bravery for taking out 2 machine gun nests in ww2. He ran out of ammo and k*lled multiple enemies with a shovel by hand.
Was quiet, not boastful but towards the end of his life talked about how easy it became to k*ll in the war and he remembered the sound of an enemies head coming off when he hit him with a shovel. Made me think how quiet and unassuming he was but when necessary he was able to do that.
I worked at bullfrog spas (a hot tub manufacturer) for a short period some years ago and they 'employed' good-behavior prisoners because the prison was next door to the factory.
There were a few guards around at all times but we worked closely together and always got to know the inmates in our areas. Of course, people would ask them what they were in for. Variety of stuff such as failed hired hitman, robbery, etc.
So probably them or my mother. To be honest tho they were super fun/cool to work with. Highly recommend. They weren't allowed certain luxuries but had water flasks so sometimes on factory breaks I'd ask them if they wanted anything (candy/snacks/soda) and put it in the flask for them to enjoy when out of sight of the guards walking around. They appreciated it quite a lot haha.
I work with a sh**ty Doctor. He seems kinda dangerous.
In the 80's, my father knew a family of brothers, they were well-connected people. The oldest didn't trust banks and only used cash, rolls of notes as thick as your wrist. As a kid, I got stuff for Christmas that 'fell off the back of a truck' new bikes etc.
If a car was stolen, it could easily be stripped for parts in hours as one brother owned a scrap yard. My dad worked with them regularly and always got paid well but never said too much about the work.
I got close with a person I met for an online hookup. After 6 months he opens up to me about how he has multiple m*rderous thoughts and he's in therapy for it. Told me how he used poisons in very creative ways on his bullies and got them extremely sick. I thanked him for opening up to me, then slowly 'got too busy' to hang out anymore.
I worked with a small man called U. He was a Gurkha. YOU DO NOT F&CK WITH A GURKHA. Someone triggered some sort of defenae response in him by accident (guy saw some horrific stuff in his past) and he basically flipped a guy twice his size to the ground in an instant and was ready to continue until he snapped out of it.
Part of their traditions is if they draw their kn*fe they have to draw bl*od, they are also allowed their knife in most situations due to it being a religious item. He was awoken in the middle of the night, marched out and shown horrifying things to condition him. They really are like something out of Dune and in my opinion one of the closest things to a Honour based warrior guild/tradition you see in media.
However, to this day he is the nicest man I have met in my entire life. When I quit that job I almost could have been in tears as that man was the only reason I enjoyed going to work.
Some dude a family member of mine knows. They were work colleagues for over 25 years. The dude is a black belt in karate and a few other martial arts. He has a lazy eye and f*d up ears from all of the fists his face ate.
He lit his ex's house on fire over her being a bit petty in the divorce. Beat up a neighbor over a parking dispute, and when the neighbor called the cops, he set their car on fire. He didn't need anyone's help enforcing payment.
He was his own enforcer. He was active in a truck driver's union and would routinely scare the sh*t out of union busters and nasty supervisors. He's the only one people were told to stay clear from.
Bloke owns multiple large houses and cottages. Is over 60 years old. He still will, for about 200 bucks, deliver a 'pizza' to someone for friends in need. That's code word for breaking someone's leg or f*ing up their shit for $200/ He'll ring at people's place, holding a pizza for them to open up.
When they do, he unleashes a world of pain and just leaves whatever message was ordered to be left. Bloke just likes fighting. He's also very good at it. Always evaded being pinned for anything he ever did. Wouldn't be surprised if he killed a man or two before. Fortunately for me, he's friendly to my family. Just don't owe him money.
My sister...she ruins people's lives for fun when she is bored. There doesn't need to be a reason.
My second cousin. He’s in his 60s now, quiet family man, really pleasant guy, doesn’t say much. He’s also built like a brick s**t house, and was an active member of a particularly nasty gang in NZ for a long time. He left that gang the hard way.
My sibling. Kind as can be, warm, friendly, immaculate home. Gives hugs to strangers, handshakes everyone, borderline social butterfly. Never been in trouble with law enforcement, is high level IT at a financial institution. Finances are in good order, helps out the rest of us when we're in a bind. Is a studious gun owner, who takes safety to a serious level.
Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, works on classic cars. Smart, VERY smart. Great story teller. If he wasnt so damn tall, he'd probably be elsewise fairly unremarkable. He used to work for Blackwater in the mid 2000s. Did something related to human intelligence and handling local leaders. I met a few of his old co-workers incidentally about 3 years ago. Thoughful, skilled, former special ops.
The kind of guys who make 150k/yr doing private security for ultra rich people, not the loud ones at the bar showing off their old dogtags and tattoos. Some of them visibly responded when I said my brother's name. Most wouldn't talk about their past at all. The two who did told me that, sometimes, people just need to be k*lled to stop them from doing really bad things.
And sometimes, that person needs to be made into a message for others. I learned my brother was the one they could rely on to send the message. The local w*rlords (I guess they were loosely Taliban adjacent?
Apparently, it's not black and white over there) were delivered a message in the form of d*ath on one hand with a promise of more, and a peace gift in the other, to never interfere with their teams in the area again.
And those locals accepted the deal without questioning it. I asked my brother about it and all he said was he'll have to stand in judgment for the things he did when his time comes, and he's okay with that.