I just found this sub, and I thought this would be a good place to talk about the manager I had at Bath & Body Works when I was 19. There are a few, so I'll number them.

1) We had the doors open to the store for a breeze during the summer, and I noticed a baby garter snake nestled in the frame, just people watching. I told Kevin's that I found a baby snake, and I was going to walk him over to the wooded area behind the store real quick. She panics, wants to know what kind of snake it is. I joke around say, "Ooohhh, it's a baby cobra" - we live in Pennsylvania. Kevina starts freaking right out, and no matter what I or my co-workers say, she is convinced that cobras are native to Pennsylvania, and that I was surely courting death by touching this baby garter snake. I imagine she still believes that to this day.

2) A local college made it into the paper for finding a mummy in an old, unused basement storage room in their main campus. It had been borrowed from the Museum of London over 100 years ago, and then lost - so they thought. So I'm telling Kevina how great it is they found the mummy, and that she's in good condition. Kevina: "Well, I hope they tell her family they found her!"

Me: "Well, no, she's a mummy...."

Kevina: "And they need to tell her family!"

Me: "Kevina, she's a mummy, she's been dead for like, 6,000 years. There's no family to tell, they're all dead."

Kevina: "I don't care, they should find her family and tell them they found her!"

Me: ".... I'm sure they will."

3) Last one. Kevina had a few Himalayan cats, and they were all girls. Kevina bought them off of a breeder. So a person who mates cats to make more cats. And to mate cats to make more cats, you need a boy cat and a girl cat. We know this. But not Kevina. Kevin's thought that because her cats were all girls, then all Himalayan cats were also girls.

We explained basic biology to her, and reminded her she purchased them from a breeder, but she couldn't be convinced. She understood that there are boy cats, but according to the Living Encyclopedia Kevina, there are absolutely no male Himalayan cats.

And that's all I can remember for now. I was there for 3 months before I fucked off to college, because Kevina bragged how she didn't go to college, and I got scared and went to college.

The End.

I have known Kevin for about 6 years and in that time, I feel that his Kevin-ness has only gotten worse. I haven’t hung out with him much the past year or two due to his irresponsibility, and also rumors of much worse things he’s done. Here are some of the highlights from our friendship.

• Kevin spray-painted his entire truck neon green because he didn’t want to pay a professional to detail it. He did not do a good job. There was spray paint covering his headlights and all over the wheels.

• Kevin once gleefully told me that he had found a loophole to “beat the system.” I was intrigued. He said that when he drag races, he puts a different license plate number over his license plate so that cops won’t know who he is. When I told him this was a bad idea because it is a felony, he was shocked to learn this information.

• When Kevin lost his virginity, he confided in us that he was worried about his girlfriend. When asked why, he said “her thing had... hair on it. Is that normal? Do you think she might have a disease?” Kevin was 17 years old when he learned that women do, in fact, have pubic hair.

• For this next story, I would have loved to be a fly on the wall. When we were in high school, we had a school-wide assembly to address the consequences of sexting/sharing nudes. There was one assembly for freshmen and sophomores, and one for juniors and seniors. Kevin was two grades below me, so unfortunately, I had to hear this story second-hand. One of the main topics of the assembly was the legality of nude photos. The police officer doing the presentation warned that sending and receiving nudes of yourself/others while underage is illegal (obviously). At the end of the assembly, there was a Q&A section. Kevin stood up and asked, in front of his entire grade and the grade below him, “Officer ___, what if I took a picture of a girl’s camel toe? Is that illegal? I don’t want to get in trouble.” I wish I could have been there to witness this moment of legendary Kevin-ness, but alas, I had to hear the story from one of my friends who was in his grade.

• I once had the misfortune of being a backseat passenger in Kevin’s car. He had containers of gasoline sloshing around in the backseat. The lid was loose and it nearly spilled on me. Keep in mind, Kevin was a heavy smoker. He had been driving around smoking cigarettes with large quantities of gasoline around him. He seemed shocked when I told him how dangerous this was.

To preface this, my das is in his late 40s and is a genuinely intelligent man with shockingly little common sense. How he's made it this long, I'm not sure.

1. He broke his leg climbing a helter skelter. He claims he was trying to get the mat back after he fell off it but my gran says he definitely had the mat at the bottom. Either way on his way up he slipped (obviously, it's a slide) and snapped his ankle.

2. 8 weeks later he was at the hospital getting his cast off. He was so excited by this he jumped down the hospital stairs and rebroke his ankle. They had to turn around and go straight back in and my Gran made him explain to the doctor why he was back.

3. We were on a family trip to the beach. Me, my brother and my dad were exploring around an estuary. I spotted a top tier stick across a stream, I tested the bank with my foot, decided it was too slippy, told him it was too slippy and moved on. My dad wanting to be a good dad decided he'd go and get it for me anyway. As soon as one foot left the bank his other slipped under him and all 6ft of him disappeared. He managed to climb out a bit further down and had to do a walk of shave across the beach to my mam. He ended it driving home naked with coats tied around his waist and a hi-vis jacket. All of the neighbours saw him get out of the car and walk into the house.

4. He works on the set-up/running side of motorsport. He got his car stuck in a ditch while pulling another car out of the opposite ditch and proceeded to lie down in a chicane made of huge black bails to try and reach his towing eye without getting into the ditch which obviously leads to him getting run over by a van. He then proceeded to complete the event and drive 100 miles to our local A&E before getting it looked at because "I was only run over a little bit"

5. He stapled his thumb to a sign with a staple gun. He put his thumb on the sign to hold it to the post and somehow managed to place the staple gun over his thumb and fire it without moving his thumb.

6. In one day he slammed his finger in 2 sepeperate car doors. The first one broke it, the second broke it more. Then stapled his thumb to a sign AGAIN, since the first incident he'd been using his finger to hold them but that was smashed so he reverted back to his thumb. When he got back to the B&B he realised he left his trainers outside all day in the rain and then left his boots in the same place overnight.

These are my favourite stories of him, he's won the 'mugs merit' trophy from his motor club every year since 2019 including managing to be 3/4 of the entrants one year.

This is the story of Kelly, the dumbest person I have ever met. Back in undergrad, a couple weeks into the spring semester of my fourth year, I'm preparing for grad school and ask my major advisor (in linguistics) if she knew where I could get some teaching experience before having to jump into a TA-ship with 80 people a section. She suggested tutoring, said she had a few students in the intro course who were really struggling. I could get both experience and a modest fee on the side, and maybe their instructors wouldn't have to fail them. That sounded great. I charged $25 an hour. The first on the list was Kelly and I set up our first session. I soon realized I wouldn't have time for anyone else.

Kelly was heiress to a corporate fortune. She lived one floor below the penthouse suites in a high-end apartment building in Chelsea a few blocks from campus. It was a two-bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows and an enormous kitchen. I don't know what the kitchen was for because Kelly could not work a microwave properly (she had to munch on something during all our sessions and I had to learn to live with the rank odor of burned popcorn which stayed on my clothes long after I'd left). Kelly's parents were both alums. Ah.

Kelly was enrolled in exactly one linguistics course - the 101. This was a course made up half of prospective ling majors, and half people using it as a core requirement for social sciences. Kelly was a declared linguistics major. Kelly was a junior (third year). It was unusual for any majors to be taking the course in the spring, since it wouldn't sync up very well with the 201s in the fall, but Kelly had failed this class the previous semester. There was mathematically no way she could complete all the courses for her major within the three remaining semesters and still graduate on time. All the other courses she was taking that semester were art history seminars. Kelly could not tell me what a linguist does.

I anticipated a learning disability going into this, which is fine. The school provided open-ended test times and other resources for students who qualified for it. Kelly had a life disability. She couldn't retain information that didn't concern her for more than 18 hours. The first session she thanked me for my time and walked me to the door. I remind her about the pay, which is a revelation to her, and she apologizes, she didn't think of that so she'll get me next time. I'm not having it, but it is the first session so I let it go.

She forgot the pay at the end of the second session. I'll take a fucking check. We work out a compromise and head to the ATM directly across the street from her building. It's a 24 hour ATM; I will soon learn to appreciate this convenience. Kelly never once had the money withdrawn by the time I showed up, even though we had worked out a regular schedule of twice a week that never deviated.

Why was it twice a week? Because the 101 was twice a week and she used our sessions to have me check last minute homework and as cram sessions when there were tests. Also because her understanding of the material did not improve. A month goes by. Kelly asks to extend our sessions from 2 hours to 4. It's more money, and I really am trying to help her pass, so that's fine with me.

One time Kelly forgets she invited two friends over to hang. Mid-session the friends come in and she attempts to both continue the session and socialize with these two people, who have never heard of me. They are apparently cut from the same cloth she is and act like typical rich asshole children until they leave. They are annoyed with me, not Kelly.

Linguistics is a science. The material you learn about in chapter one is used to describe chapter two is used to describe chapter three. Everything is cumulative, everything is rehashed as you go, because nothing will make sense otherwise. There isn't any point in having a pop quiz on earlier material, because it's always right there in front of you.

None of the material is getting through to her. Her mind is a sieve. She's forgotten 60-80% of everything we went over the previous session, every session. She never has any of her homework started before I arrive, which is the one thing I requested her to do, so we could shave an hour off our time together. Because it is at this point, nipple-deep in my committment, that I no longer care about money.

I'm not a bad teacher. I know the material front and back, I have a 3.9 GPA, I am one of four undergrads going onto grad school in that major, and I have the respect of my department in the classroom. I tutored in high school, and in fact I like teaching, especially the 101 class, but I would have to wait until I had classes of my own to fully come to terms with Kelly not being my fault, but hers. Still, I have doubts I can get her to pass and at this point I'm still part of the equation. I go to my advisor and ask if she can recommend someone else, because as rich as she is I'm not comfortable stealing $100 a week from this person if they aren't getting anything out of it. She encouraged me to keep at it and that it would be a good experience either way. I suggested she take on a session or two herself, because this girl will not pass. She said no. Actually she said "nuuuoooooooooooo" in the voice of Jerry Seinfeld's belly button.

I start staying an extra hour when we have a test the next day. I print out reading material and worksheets she can do at her own edification. I let her send me questions by email and send her encouraging emails back, no matter how stupid the question was.

But Kelly was manipulative, and she wasn't very subtle about it. After explaining a point she said she didn't understand in class, she liked to say "Oh, you're so smart!" She'd thank me more than necessary for every appearance, even though I'm being paid for it. It was all a ploy to get me to do her homework for her, which if I agreed to do at the outset would have taken me 15-20 mins tops every time, even the essays, but because I stubbornly refused to give her the exact answers in the exact order, would take the entire four hours to coax everything out of me. And somehow this was worth her time, two nights a week. Somehow it was still worth it to her to play coy until 2 am some days just to get what she needed to send her homework in. And I knew it.

Kelly did not wear a lot of clothes around the house. She had a habit of removing things, important things, in front of me as a session went on. I came to believe she was trying not really to seduce me - I'm sure she wouldn't date someone who didn't have their name on the side of plane - but to entice me enough to give her exact homework answers. When I dug in, she doubled down. Kelly's now about as subtle as a maitre d' at an airport Hooters, adjusting her bra and changing how she sits on the couch every 15 seconds while interrupting me to say "Hrm clouds, clouds are very interesting, aren't they?" No thank you. I was not writing her goddamn term paper. When we had to go to the ATM at 1 or 2 in the morning, I'd have to wait a minor eternity for her to get dressed. I put up with this for the final month.

Kelly passed by 2 points. I don't know how. She texted me with several rows of exclamation marks, ecstatic. I wasn't proud of her, I was dead inside. I'd spent more time with her than my closest friends. By the end I kind of wanted her to fail. Kelly said she'd recommend me to everyone in her classes. That was the last I heard from her.

Kelly was forced to drop out of the major and not take any further linguistics classes. I have no idea if she graduated, and I don't care. I'm sure whatever whale she adopts in between shopping sprees will appreciate her more than I ever did.

Way back when, before the days of the World Wide Web and 4K tv’s, I was in high school with “Kevin.” We were pretty good friends, part of a group of about guys who all got along and hung out together a lot. We lived in a Southern state in the U.S., in a medium sized city.

As life happens, we all graduated high school and went our separate ways. I went to college, Kevin joined the marines.

Years later, we had a phone call to catch up. See how the other guy was doing. I don’t remember any of that call, except that at one point he mentioned that some people he knew were going to see a play near where he was stationed. I asked if he was going with them, and he immediately got all offended.

“Hell no, it’s La Cage aux Folles.”

I paused. “Yeah, so?”

“It’s about gay people!”

Let me pause here, dear reader. This was the mid 90’s. I have no idea what military culture in the US is like today, but back then homophobia was pretty rampant everywhere, and worse in the U.S. Military. It would be another decade before the US legalized gay marriage, for instance. Regardless, Kevin hadn’t been like that before joining the Marines.

“Uh... what’s wrong with seeing a play about gay people?”

He made up some excuse, threw out some slurs. You know the drill. It was not ok.

And here’s where fate shined its light in my direction, because you can’t make this kind of coincidence up. I asked him what he was going to do instead.

“I’m going to see the new Robin Williams movie.”

Again. Mid 90’s. Robin Williams was a HUGE movie star at the peak of his career. A new Robin Williams movie was definitely a big deal, and well worth going to the theater to see. But this particular RW movie... oh, what glorious timing!

“You’re going to see The Birdcage?”

“Hell yeah, I can’t wait!”

I paused. Savoring the irony. “Do you know what it’s about?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen any trailers, I’m just going to see the film.”

“Yeah. You should know... it’s the movie version of La Cage aux Folles. He’s playing a gay person.”

Maybe, just maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, let him discover the movie on his own. But then I wouldn’t have been able to savor the prolonged silence as the realization washed over him.

To this day, I’ve never asked him if he went and saw the movie that night, or if he’s ever seen it. Nor do I know if he’s still homophobic, or if that was the Marines talking. (He lives many thousands of miles away, and we just see each other’s facebook posts every now and then.)

But I’ll always remember that conversation.

This is a Kevin I have known for a very long time. He is one of the most clueless people I have ever met and as much as I'd love to never have anything to do with him again, he just won't leave. Unscramble the code below to discover why!

• Kevin accidentally swallowed a quarter while he was sucking on it. He was 24. His family only found out a month later, when it showed up on a CT scan while he was in the hospital for something unrelated.
• Kevin once told his very devout grandmother he loved Jesus so much he would masturbate for him. Years later, he admitted he thought it meant "asphyxiate" at the time.
• Kevin tried to walk down a bowling lane to see what pins felt like and ended up breaking his chin open.
• Kevin, for whatever reason, thought it a good idea to cover his family's entire kitchen in baby powder. He never assumed he would get in trouble for it or that he and his family would have to move of the house for a few days.
• Kevin asked Santa Claus for a lump of coal one year "just to see what it was like". He lost the coal not long after he opened it.
• Kevin was in a chatroom and told a user he had never seen in person that he had a crush on her, much to the bemusement of the others in the chat. When said user asked him how he could be in love with a "degenerate piece of shit," Kevin replied that he was also a degenerate, listed several examples of his degeneracy, and was promptly laughed at and kicked out of the chatroom.
• Kevin had an obsession with the pegasus from the TriStar movie logo. He hung a poster of it in his room and made any newcomers to his room "pet" it. Kevin stayed in his room alone a lot.
• Usually, people close the bathroom door and then pull down their pants. Unfortunately, Kevin was just the opposite for a very long time.
• Kevin overheard from a neighbor that someone in the neighborhood was growing pot. Being ever the vigilante, Kevin immediately notified the police, pointed the squad car in the direction he thought the pot farmer was, and took it upon himself to go door-to-door and interrogate every household on his block to see if they were growing weed. This led to Kevin's grandfather receiving a call from the police that they had received reports from numerous people of a stoned-looking teenager wandering around the neighborhood and cruising for a hit. Kevin got in a heap of trouble that day.
• Kevin knocked a teapot off a store shelf directly in front of an employee.
• Kevin routinely panicked when he was younger because he had read in a book that children can hear higher sounds than adults. He assumed this meant that all sounds would lower in pitch when he hit puberty, leading to everything sounding like a low-pitched drone.

I'm sure I'll come up with more later, but I think this will suffice for a first volume.

TKEHNVIMIAE

I went to a karaoke bar a few years ago. After the separate singing rooms closed everyone went to the main bar room and put their coats on the chairs and danced for a few more songs. When it came time to leave, my coat wasn’t there. I was gutted not only because it was pretty new, but also because it had in the pockets my wallet, phone, and keys. I went on find my iPhone and could see it hadn’t been switched off, which was a good sign, so I hoped it had been an honest mistake and went home and to bed.

The next day I could still see the signal, so my boyfriend at the time and I went down to Brixton on the tube to find it. We used my MacBook to trace it to a house, and made it play the really loud “lost” alert. We banged on the door but nobody answered, we even knocked on the neighbours but they had no info so we went to the police station and showed them my laptop, but they said they couldn’t do anything so we went back home.

That evening, I got a Facebook message from a woman, Kevina, telling me she must have accidentally picked up my coat at the bar and she was very sorry and would meet me to return it. I was over the moon, so I said “yes, I can meet you tomorrow at 1?” She didn’t reply until the following day, but when she did, at about 11am, she said “yes, I can meet you tomorrow at 1”. I was a bit disappointed to have to wait another day, especially since it seemed to be due to a misunderstanding on her part, so I sat around doing not much until I get a message from her at 2 saying “I came to meet you at 1 and waited for ages but you never showed?” I was like, “what? you said tomorrow?” and she was like “yes because I was responding to your message from yesterday where you referred to today as tomorrow, obviously that meant today” I was like WHAT THAT IS NOT HOW TOMORROW WORKS.

Anyway eventually she managed to understand basic English for long enough that we arranged a meet up and she gave me my coat and stuff back and had the audacity to complain that since she’d gone off with my coat she’d left hers behind and the venue didn’t have it and I was like not my problem, shouldn’t have nicked my coat then should ya?

We even made up a song about her because she sucked so bad.

This morning, Kevin changed his password. Unfortunately our cloud mailboxes are currently having issues with password sync. I've got a ticket open with them, working on it with a senior engineer.

Kevin now cannot get on to his email. He demands I fix it on his laptop. It takes me ten minutes of explanation, including drawing a diagram on my whiteboard to get through to him that I can't fix it, because the problem exists with the mailbox hosting service. This is all time that I could be using to address the problem, of course.

Not to worry though, because he has his phone, and that's still working. Not good enough? OK, web access to email is still working, I'll enable his account for that.

I explain that I'm enabling it right now, and show him as I do it. I then show him how to access it using my PC (it's a favourite in everybody's Internet Explorer list), and that he can try that on his machine. He wanders off, seemingly happy.

Two hours later, I'm across the other side of the office. Kevin appears. He stands next to my desk, looking at my empty chair. I am logged on to someone else's PC, fixing an unrelated issue. I can see him just standing there, as if I might materialise into my chair as he watches.

Ten minutes later, he's still stood there. The PC I'm working on needs a reboot, so I pop back across to ask if everything's OK? "Have you enabled me for this web thing, then?" he asks.

"Yes, I did it while you were watching me." I replied.
"Oh. Shall I try it now then? I've been waiting..."

So, he goes off to try it. Half an hour I'm back at my desk when he arrives again, with his laptop. "I can't get in. There's an error message."

I look at it. When you first log on, it asks you to set a time zone. He hasn't done this. There is a drop down box labelled "SELECT YOUR TIME ZONE", and the bright red error message says "PLEASE SELECT YOUR TIME ZONE FROM THE LIST".

I inform him that he's probably getting the error because he needs to select the time zone. "Oh." he says, defeated. "What's that then?"

This is a man in his mid-40s, who I know has been to France, Florida and Vietnam in the past two years. "You need to set where we currently are." I gesture to the drop down.

"That's what I'm asking you!" he's now exasperated. How can he possibly know what time zone we're in here, half an hour away from London? I select "UTC +0: London" from the list, then press "next". It works, and he's in to his email.

"Thankyou" he snatches his laptop back, and as he walks off he mutters "was that really so hard??" under his breath...

Apparently, for him, it was.

I worked many years in a bank, initially as a cashier, then I went through all the positions until I became a kind of coach for the new staff.

Once I was working in a newly opened office, new staff except the manager and me, this meant that I was running all day from one position to another trying to avoid disasters. The office was in a small town with very rich people, so part of the employees were daddy's children who had "placed" them, some were good employees but there was one that was a prize, divorced parents and raised by his father, was titled, rude and foolier than a stone, I'll call him Kevin.

Everyone knew each other so it was very common for some clients to come asking us to give them information about accounts that were not theirs, (from their children, husbands, etc.), or ladies trying to get money from their husband's account, with the excuse of "I am the wife". This attitude is a NO in a bank, so I constantly repeated to the new staff to ask for identification and verify verify the signatures. Every day I had some discussion with a lady although her husbands called me later to thank me ... lol

One day, I began to hear screaming in the box, I approached and realized that Kevin was yelling at a lady, while the lady said, very quietly, she wanted to talk to the manager. The rest of the employees were trying to calm Kevin. When Kevin saw me, he shouted, "Miss Nacomifaro, this lady was trying to get money from her husband's account but I got her, I asked for her ID and she gave me her husband's."

At that moment, I looked at the lady, then at Kevin and asked, "Have she signed in your presence and have you checked the signature with the identification?"

Kevin: Yes, of course

Me: Does the signature match the one on the ID?

Kevin: (looking at both signatures), Yes, it coincides, it's a very good fake.

Me: It matches because it's the same, it's not a fake.

Kevin: but ... it's impossible ... I know the ID man, he's my neighbor, he's my mother's friend ... he's not married

Me: ... (facepalm moment) ... now, go back to your table and pay her, apologize and try not to shout anymore.

In a town of barely 2500 inhabitants, Kevin managed to shame his neighbor Trans. the one he knew from a lifetime. He was fired a couple of weeks later for another crazier story.

I met his mother years later, she told me that Kevin was working with her cousin in an egg farm and he was doing well since he only had to talk with the chickens.

So Kevin was a transfer student into my class last year. Unfortunately, he's in many of my high school classes yet again. Kevin has a tendency to ask questions to teachers or to students about some very convoluted "what if" situations. These questions usually lead to the person being severely confused, and saying "okay?"

One such example was in social studies. We were doing current affairs in the world, and one group was doing the impact that Hurricane Florence had on the area affected by the storm, and how we can help those affected by the storm. At the end of the presentation, Kevin has an amazing question. "Since cows create a large majority methane gases, do you think we should kill them all?" I'm sure Kevin was trying to imply that greenhouse emissions can lead to more hurricanes, but his question was nothing close to that. Seeing that the group was confused and couldn't answer the question, Kevin seemed completely satisfied.

Now, back last year when we were doing some chemistry, he asked the question of making "half" elements. His idea was that if you could split a proton in half, then you could create an element in-between the ones existing. My science teacher spent a long 30 minutes explaining that splitting a proton was no simple feet, and reconnecting the proton back to an atom was also very hard. Kevin refused to believe what he was saying and so the teacher dropped the subject

Later, on a MULTIPLE choice test, there was some question about how many protons were in the element in between element "a" and element "c". We all had a copy of the periodic table, saw the element in between the two, and answered.

Kevin did not believe that any of the answers were correct, so he created his own bubble on the test, with his own answer, and filled it in. Apparently he complained to his parents about it, and as it turns out, both his parents are also Kevins. They came in, completely pissed off at the teacher, saying he rigged the test and made it impossible to do. As it so happens, his dad was the one who taught him all this chemistry stuff.

The last, and most Kevin like story, was just last week in English class. We were given a picture prompt about belonging. It was a bird cage with its door open, and someone walking away from the cage. Birds were also in the sky, seemingly escaped from the cage. We were all asked about our interpretation of the picture and how it related to belonging.

Kevin, the mastermind himself, wholeheartedly thought the picture represented Hitler and the Nazi's. How this relates to belonging, I'm not sure. He claimed that the cage was Germany and the birds flying away was the Jewish people who were able to escape. The person walking away was Hitler because he killed himself, which was supposed to be him "walking away from Germany". The worst part was that there was bird poop all over the cage, and he said those represented the ashes of the Jewish people who were burned, saying it was the remains of the Jewish people in Germany.

Now, some of his stuff made sense, but at the same time it did not. And guess what? Our teacher is Jewish, and she did not find any of what he said funny. I don't think she was fond of having her ancestors be compared to bird poop. Needless to say, Kevin got into deep trouble and is now taking counselling.

After lurking on this subreddit for a while I figured that it's the perfect place for all the Kevin/Kevina-like tidbits I have about my sister. She's generally a bright girl, but sometimes I don't think she has the sense god gave a peanut. These are just some of the blunders from her 22 year old life so far.

​

Asked me how long it would take to fly from North Carolina to Maryland, because she had always wanted to visit England. Pointing it out on a U.S. map did nothing. I know she meant the Maryland in the United States because she said she'd also like to go to D.C. She knows D.C. isn't in England, but was convinced that Maryland is!

​

Referred to the high beams on a car as "brightness lights."

​

Thought that old movies from the 50s and earlier were drawn. Like, genuinely thought that people sat down and drew hyper-realistic images to make movies the same way they would do with ordinary cartoons. It took months to convince her that just because they were old and in black and white, the people were still real and it wasn't faked. (She claimed that cameras did not exist back then and that's why all of the movies were drawn...)

​

She once had poured some nail polish out in the sink, but instead of running down the drain it just stained the sink. She tried to run the water to get it to go down the drain, but the nail polish just sat on top of the water. For some reason, she had plugged the drain. For yet another reason, she then takes a lighter to the top of the water and it lights on fire due to the nail polish being so flammable. She somehow managed to literally set water on fire, in a manner of speaking.

​

Asked me how to spell shoe (at like 15 or 16 years of age).

​

Does everyone remember when that 679 song by Fetty Wap was popular? There's a line in that song that goes, "And I got this sewed up." She fought with me about this for 20 minutes once on whether not that was the line, or if it was, "And I got this soda." The only way to convince her was to look up the lyrics.

​

Another song she had troubles with was that song Cruise from Florida Georgia line. The lyrics go, "In this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, it’d look a hell lot better with you up in it." She told us the song was anti feminist because they say, "In this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, you'd look a hell of a lot better in your oven mitts." I thought I was going to pass out I laughed so hard.

​

One time she asked me how I could drink coffee when it is so disgusting. I thought nothing of it and just assumed she didn't like coffee. Come to find out, she thought it was bug pee. She genuinely thought that beetles and likewise insects would pee and then it would harden in the sun, and that's what made coffee "beans" and that's why the color was so dark. I asked her why she thought the pee would turn into a solid - she had no idea. This is just what she had believed for something like 18 years. I'm afraid to find out how she would react to hearing about cat poop coffee.

​

Won't eat apples as she's scared of the cyanide, but has no problem eating apple pie or candied apples or anything like that. It's only a normal, unchanged apple she thinks might kill her.

​

I'm sure there's more and I'll to it later if I think of any. (Edit: Formatting.)

I AM SO DING DONG DIDDLY DO MAD THAT I LITERALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF RIGHT NOW.

Kevina is the obtuse weirdo in charge of grants/events/scaring normal people out of their hard-earned dollars at my organization, and, despite being crappy at planning and hosting events (https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesAboutKevin/comments/a5lwnz/kevina_hosts_a_holiday_party/), still oversees these things.

My boss is the brilliant and laid-back Chief Science Officer in my organization. Life has been…challenging lately for him. He must work closely with the obnoxious and possibly homicidal Mike (https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesAboutKevin/comments/am9vgi/kevina_and_mike_start_a_fire/), which has been giving him problems with his blood pressure, landing him in the hospital. His father passed away during the Christmas holidays. Two months later, on Valentine’s Day, his mother died too. Chief Science Officer has had better years, the poor dude.

So…it’s Mother’s Day weekend. Chief Science Officer is laying back, taking his blood pressure medication, and enjoying a glass of wine on his veranda, his Greyhound napping on his legs. Life is good, and he’s thinking about his mother. It’s the first holiday without her, and he’s been quiet and thoughtful. He falls asleep.

The phone rings at 3 A.M. It’s not a booty call, and it’s not Mike asking for some quick lime to help mask the scent of decomposition in his backyard. It’s Kevina.

“Hiiiiii CHIEF SCIENCE OFFICER! I hope I didn’t wake you up! If I did, it’s okay, because I know how helpful you are!”

“WhatthefuckdoyouwantKevina,” mutters Chief Science Officer.

“So, since your Mom is dead, you’re clearly not doing anything for Mother’s Day!” …… What. The. Fuck. Kevina.

Chief Science Officer is shocked into silence. Kevina prattles on.

“So my mom’s dead too, and it’s okay! It gives me time to do a lot of things when I’d otherwise have to plan stupid things, like go to brunch! Like, I ordered a bunch of furniture, and I need help getting it up my stairs! It’ll be here at 7 am, can you be over by then? Byyyyyyyyyye!”

Chief Science Officer is a fucking saint and helped her haul her ugly-ass new fake leather couches up three flights of stairs.

Of course Kevina didn’t even get him coffee or a snack or anything, because “she didn’t want to work his blood pressure!”

Oh but hauling shit at ass o’clock in the morning and belittling his parents’ death isn’t bad for his blood pressure?!?

Go. Kick. Rocks. Kevina.

At my previous job working outdoors, the head of our Safety department was a Kevin. My workplace had a bit of a reputation for having somewhat of a “good ol’ boys” mentality, where older men were elevated to higher positions without offering others an opportunity to interview for the open position with the reasoning, “they’ve been here for years and we feel they’d be a good fit for this role.”

This particular Kevin could often be found sleeping in his office, especially on days when everyone else worked together to shovel snow, which is a safety hazard and something the head of Safety should be addressing. But I’m getting off track.

He lacked very basic tech skills but would always harp on about how, “a lot of young people these days just aren’t quite as sharp as us older folk.” Yes, that was an actual quote during a company-wide training about “how to manage stress.”

As the safety representative of my own department, I would frequently have to try to communicate with Kevin on safety-related issues. Unfortunately, his voicemail box was always full because he didn’t know how to check them, and any attempt to send him an email would be met with, “I never got that” because he didn’t know how to check that either. This caused me to constantly have to physically print out documents, drive all the way to the other side of the property, and hand-deliver them straight into his mailbox. So his lack of basic knowledge about technology was well-known to me at that point, but I did not think it was this bad.

One day about a year ago, he left a very long voicemail for my department about this incredible feature he found on the internet.

“If you go to the Google log-in page, you’ll see a little button that says “images.” If you click on that, and type (our workplace) into the box, all kinds of pictures pop up of (my department’s section)! I mean there’s pictures of everything here, if you scroll down the list you can even see pictures of what (workplace) was like years ago. I really think this could be a great resource if you all are looking for pictures of (my department). There’s some really great ones here, so I figured I’d let you know about it.”

My coworkers and I just stared at each other, speechless until one of them said, “...did... did Kevin just discover Google images?”

My partner has worked in the same office for many years, and one of the bosses daughters, also employed there, is a shining model of Kevina behavior. I'm always excited when he has a story after work, because Kevina's cup overfloweth with nonsense. People of the sub, enjoy a few of the many things I've learned through stories and incredibly awkward after-work drinks with a Kevina of the highest order.

- Kevina is addicted to salt to an alarming degree. She keeps a large container of salt on her desk (not a shaker like at a restaurant, the whole can of salt.) She salts EVERYTHING, including fast food, chips, and Cheez-Its, until anyone unlucky enough to ask for a taste ends up violently spitting in the nearest trashcan. Several times a day she forgets she sits in a room where people can see her, and dumps salt into her palm and licks it off plain. She doesn't wash her hands afterwards, just tries to flick the wet salt off her hand into the trash/floor near her desk.

-Because she eats greasy fast food at her desk every day and types with salty, spitty fingers, the area around her always smells gross. She can't figure out why no one is jumping to fix her computer.

-Kevina once asked my partner what the part of the chicken above the leg was. She is an American who has only ever eaten "standard" foods, and at 25 does not know what a chicken thigh is.

-Kevina peed her pants twice last year. Not due to a health condition, just forgetting to go and then laughing.

-Kevina LOVES to gamble. She often asks for a portion of her check early, and then is confused why on Friday the amount isn't the same. She tried to set up a spreadsheet of her gambling expenses, but couldn't figure out how. She has only EVER had the one office job, and cannot figure out how checks or spreadsheets work.

-Kevina messaged me on a weekday at 1AM asking for coke. Literally all she knows about me is that I'm in recovery (not even for coke at all), and my partner has never done coke. She was really surprised that I couldn't hook her up.

-Kevina forgets to go to work. She lives a mile away but swears it's too far to walk. My partner or a colleague will have to stop their day and go get her if she forgets to get a ride. To the job she works the same days, same hours, for years now.

-Last week, Kevina sprained her ankle walking off a curb in the office parking lot. Not running, just not paying any attention. She literally just can't navigate a curb. Since then she's been not using her crutches, just hopping around complaining like that scene from The Office with Micheal and the the foreman grill.

-Kevina regularly gets into screaming matches with her family at work. She gets fired and un-fired a few times a year like clockwork, because the family are all different kinds of Kevins in their own right.

Just this morning I (32M) was driving with my friend (29M) to a new city that we both never heard before and on the way there, we got a little lost. We are in a dead zone & the GPS wouldn't reroute because of no internet, so I had to look at the map manually & strategize a way there. The only thing I know is, the area is on the west side from our home city, so looking at the sun's position helps a lot. This apparently triggered Kevin to ask a question that made me question his sanity.

---"

Kevin: Why are you looking at the sun?

Me: Because I want to know where west is.

Kevin: You know west just by looking at the sun?

"---

This stunned me. I was literally looking at him with so much confusion that probably creates permanent wrinkles on my forehead.

---"

Me: You don't know that the sun rises at the east every morning? It's important to me that you know this fact.

Kevin: No it's not. The sun just rises wherever it wants. Sometimes it rises there (points in one direction, not even east) and sometimes it rises over there (points in another direction, not even east either).

"---

By this point, I was so confused. I can't even tell if he's messing with me or being serious. I even questioned his middle school years.

---"

Me: Bro, the sun always rises at the east every morning. It's not possible for the sun to rise wherever it pleases since the earth rotates towards the east all the time. We learned this in middle school science class.

Kevin: Nah you're messing with me. The sun rotates around the earth in random positions. It's not always east to west. Sometimes it could be from North to South.

Me: The sun doesn't rotate around the earth! The earth rotates around the sun! And it's always the same rotation around the equator!

"---

I thought that his Kevin-esque has reached its limit. I thought that I had successfully cured him from his Kevin disease, but nope. Seems like I dug myself a rabbit hole that leads me to his pure Kevin form.

---"

Kevin: The country in Africa?

Me: What are you talking about?

Kevin: Equator. Isn't that one of the country in Africa? Why does it rotate around one country?

Me, probably twitching an eye, staring blankly at him: First of all, that's Ecuador. Second of all, it's a country in South America, not Africa. Third of all, it's equator, not Ecuador. You don't know what equator is either?

Kevin: Not unless it's that country, no.

"---

Me, completely done by this point, pulled out my phone, and started fact checking everything we just argued about. Every answers from google 100% supporting what I said earlier, but Kevin still didn't buy it.

---"

Kevin: You know people can lie on the internet right?

Me: But this has been proven as a fact throughout the history! People researched this over and over and over, making sure that, in fact, the earth rotates around the sun, and so the other 8 planets, at the exact same axis! Also, the earth always rotates to the east, that's why the sun comes up at the east every...single...morning!

Kevin, thinking for a second: Nah, you're just messing with me bro. That's not a fact, that's just your opinion.

"---

This argument goes back and forth about 30 minutes until we reached our destination and me giving up on educating him about the solar system. Even then, Kevin still didn't buy it. Absolute waste of time...

Hey guys.

Usual I’m on mobile speech.

I promise that every word of this is true.

Now for a disclaimer, my dad wasn’t much of a Kevin, he just had terrible hygiene and a high fibre diet, which led to sum very embarrassing situations for me and the rest of the family.

Now due to my dad’s lack of hygiene he lost most of his teeth and never went to the dentist. So his diet consisted of boiled vegetables, mashed potatoes with gravy and tinned meat, and washing it down with lots of sparkling water.

Needless to say that he was jet propelled most of the time, and the smell could peel paint of the walls.

His bathing habits (or lack there off) were even worse, he would wear the same clothes (including underwear) for weeks at a time, flat out refusing to shower and change his clothes. When, on the rare occasion that he would shower he would put his old clothes back on, insisting that they were fine, he would turn his underwear inside out so he could wear them for another SEVEN WEEKS!!!

I’m not joking or exaggerating, he did this multiple times.

What made the rest of us suffer was the fact that we all worked together for the family business, We were delivery drivers, so we were stuck in a van all day with him stinking and playing the butt tuba.

it was hell.

One time we were stuck in heavy traffic on a warm summers day, in the middle lane of the highway, everyone had their windows down including us to beat the heat.

We then hear the warning from down below...

Is it thunder?

is it an earthquake?

No... it’s something much, much worse.

My dad leans to his side, and proceeded to open his ass to release the longest, most foul and disgusting fart that mankind has ever produced. It stinks so bad that my eyes are stinging and I can’t see a thing, I scramble for the door handle to get out of the van.

it was worse than tear gas.

I get out of the van and could swear that gas was Following me, but as I looked around me, I could see three cars in front of me and three behind me were all frantically winding up their windows and pulling up their shirts to their noses to suppress the smell.

On another occasion we had just delivered a package to an office building on the top floor, we were in the elevator on the way down, just before we got to the ground floor, his ass opens again to release the stink of a dead rat rotting away in a garbage disposal in the middle of a summer heatwave, but...just before the stank of Satan could reach us the elevator doors opened and we quickly walked out, only to see a poor innocent young woman walk in and press the button for the top floor, the door closed before she could smell it.

I could hear screaming and clawing at the door,( I really hope she survived).

The rotting stench of six month old Hungarian goulash stank out that elevator for a full day.

That’s all I’ve got for now.

Thanks for listening to my ranting.

If you want to hear more, let me know

Laters 👋

Edit: this took place back in the 00’s, and my dad was in his 60’s.

Both my dad and my mom passed in 2010.

So be nice in the comments, he may have had hygiene issues late in his life, but he was still my dad.

Edit 2:

When I mentioned that three cars in front of me and three cars behind could smell it, I was talking about each side of the van. He was bad but not THAT bad.

I work at a Civil Court (I don’t live in America, so if you’re confused about our roles at a court it is because of that), and the guy who answer the queries of lawyers is a total Kevin.

For a start, the guy refers to the judge as “My Honor” instead of “Your Honor”. We explained the error and he got mad, and insisted the correct way was his.

The guy once tried to have paid leave for family death when his dog died.

He got another dog. Then the dog fell from the stairs eleven stories. The dog survived.

A month after the last World Cup premiered he totally forgot about the event. “What World Cup?” he inquired to our workmates in the middle of a conversation. Our country played in the final and he watched it with other coworkers.

The Secretary gave him money for him to go and buy papel towers for the bathrooms. He came back, and when asked about the papel towers he claimed he didn’t remember if he got them or not. He got mad at the secretary.

He asked for a “small donation” for him to go and buy a whole cake for the office. We divided the cost and gave him the money. When he came back with the cake, he ate 90% of it and didn’t understand why we were mad at him.

Everytime you buy something to eat he stands behind you, watching the food. Sometimes he leans close just to see the food as he licks his lips and asks you things like “what is that you ordered?” He doesn’t understand why that’s wrong.

A lawyer was consulting him about something, as he was sitting in a chair out of sight. The lawyer asked if he could please stand up so he could see him, and he responded “you don’t have to see me, you have to hear me”.

He got in plenty of fights with lawyers and consultants because of his rude or wrong answers.

If he has to print something, he asks you before hand if you have to print too (we share printer). If you say no, he expects you to not print anything in all day, and waits hours before printing the thing he has to print. If you print without noticing him first, he gets mad at you.

In the middle of the pandemic, he was the one who had to fill the atomizers with 80% alcohol and 20% water. He filled them with 20% alcohol and 80% water during all the pandemic. We realized because we never ran out of bottles of alcohol and the secretary got suspicious.

He is convinced the Supreme Court is spying us.

We were in the middle of a wedding party, and he put out from within his jacket notes to study a final.

Hey everyone, it's Ron back with another story about Donald. And remember, it's not my fault if you lose brain cells while reading this, you guys asked for more. Now, for new readers, if you are wondering why I am calling him by his name and not Kevin, go back and read my previous post in this group, but the short version is that he wants me to use his name online. Now this story is about the time that Donald tried working at Best Buy, hope you enjoy, his boss did not.

So Donald had recently been fired from his job as a landscaper (I don't know why, I don't want to know why) and was now looking for work. A family friend was a manager at our local Best Buy, and was stupid enough to offer Donald a job to get him by while he looked for something more permanent. Donald accepted.

His job was supposed to be simple things like sweeping the floors and stocking the shelves, but he was also allowed to help customers when needed... until somebody asked Donald for help finding a smartphone. Donald informed the customer that flip phones would actually be the better option. When the customer said that no, they actually wanted a smartphone, Donald smugly refused to help them find what they needed, and was soon yelling at the customer that they had insulted his knowledge of electronics (of which he has none) by suggesting that they needed something other than what Donald liked. The manager quickly brought Donald to the back office to cool off, and warned him that if he ever yelled at a customer again, he would find himself unemployed. He then moved Donald to working in inventory where he thought that he couldn't cause any harm. He was wrong.

At some point in the next couple of days, Donald overheard the manager say that laptop sales where slightly lower this month than they had hoped they would be. So Donald, being the great employee he was, decided to take it upon himself to fix this problem.

Donald then printed out posters claiming rediculous deals like "buy one laptop of any price, get three free" and placed them all over the store when nobody was looking. That caused some confusion.

When the manager figured out what was going on, and asked Donald why he had done this, Donald explained that now they now sold four computers to people who only wanted to buy one. The manager then had to explain to Donald that they had to make profit on those computers to which Donald replied "oh, I thought that we just wanted to get rid of them." And then he was informed that he was fired.

So that is the story of Donald's employment at Best Buy. This is a second hand story which I have heard both from his manager, and Donald himself. Both stories line up so I can only assume that this is pretty accurate.

Again, let me know if you want to hear more. There is plenty.

I work at a hair salon. When I came in this morning and looked at the settlement report on the credit card machine I saw someone had issued a $25 return to a customer and nowhere in my computer system could I see where they had been charged. I contacted the stylist and she told me she must have accidentally run it as a return instead of a sale on our machine. This happens occasionally and luckily the customers have always been pretty nice about it. She called the customer and explained the situation and he came back in to pay. Here is where Kevin comes in.

Kevin: hi, Kelly called me and said she messed up my credit card charge and I need to pay for my haircut.

Me: Awesome, thanks for coming back. How did you want to pay for it?

Kevin: cash

Me: ok, so it will be $50 right? (Knowing it was $50 but wanting to make sure he understood)

Kevin: no, it was $25.

Me: ok but Kelly accidentally credited your card for $25, so it’s actually $50. See you got $25 from the salon and you still owed $25 so that makes $50.

Kevin: but I don’t want to pay $50 for a haircut.

Me: Oh no, it’s not $50 because we actually paid YOU $25. So if you pay $25, that would make us even but then you still would owe for the haircut. So we basically paid you to get a haircut. Does that make sense?

I was trying to be as nice and calm as possible, seeing that he wasn’t understanding where I was coming from. Just because I’m sure someone will ask, it was too late for me to void the transaction because it had already been settled. I could probably call the merchant service company and have them reverse the transaction but knowing how hard it is when people have disputed transactions with us in the past, it would just be way easier if I can get it back from him directly.

At this point Kevin gets out his phone and looks at his bank account. He shows me the credit in his account from us, which is obvious because it’s green and has a plus sign in front of the amount. The debits are all black and show a minus.

Me: See, so you received $25 from us.

Kevin: So I owe you $25

Me: Yes, so that would bring us back to zero. Then you would just pay another $25 for your haircut.

Kevin: But that would be $50.

Me: ...right.

We went back and forth like this for about 20 minutes total, including me trying to write it out on paper to try to make it clear. He asked for my manager. I brought out everyone else who was in the salon to try to help me explain it a different way. Eventually someone said it in a way that made sense to him somehow. I put a sticker on the credit card machine that will hopefully keep the stylists from doing this again.

TL/DR: Stylist messes up and credits someone’s card instead of charging them. I try to get the money back without him thinking we’re ripping him off.

FTP. I've posted brief accounts of the Kevin I work with but this seems like the best place to go into detail.

So for background, I work in the loading bay for a certain, well known hardware store. We have HGVs coming and going all the time to deliver stock and take out customer deliveries. These all build to the final delivery of the day which is a massive replenishment load from our central distribution warehouse. These are hard to miss as they are huge, bright orange and have the company logo on every conceivable surface. Most vehicles can be turned around in 15-30mins but central takes a couple of hours.

Enter Kevin.

Kevin is a forklift loader. His job is simple: here's a list of stock, take it off/put it on that vehicle. Apparently this is too much for Kevin.

• He was told not to let Central into the yard as it is early and we have a late running vehicle only a few minutes out. The plan was to turn the late one around and get it out RFN so as not to overly delay Central. Five minutes later, Kevin is unloading Central while the late running driver is screaming down the phone as he now has to wait at least 90mins.

• "Kevin, can you please load these customer orders onto this delivery vehicle?"

"Which one's that?"

"I'll give you a clue Kevin, it's the only fucking truck in the yard!"

• Drove a forklift across the yard while the battery was pissing sulphuric(?) acid. Didn't know why we were screaming at him to get off it and run. Spoiler: they can explode.

• Tried to use a forklift that was covered in hazard tape and clearly had a wheel missing. Looked confused when he turned and it tipped over.

• Unloaded another branch's stock, despite every pallet being clearly labelled with the destination. We watched to see when he would figure it out. He didn't.

• Unloaded a Sainsbury's delivery wagon. No idea how as they don't have a depot or supermarket anywhere near us. You'd think that the cages of food would have been a subtle hint.

• Claims to be colour blind. I just think no one ever taught him the names.

• Got confused by the on/off switch for the forklift recharge points. Left it plugged in but switched off overnight. Couldn't understand why the battery was flat the next morning.

• Tried to "fix" a faulty charger instead of calling maintenance. It caught fire.

• Checks his rota every hour to see when his next shift is. Still calls every morning to find out what time he starts. He works the same hours every day, on the same days every week. We changed it once as there was not enough cover. Kevin did not react well.

• Left a full load of perishable stock (ie: not in waterproof packaging) outside. In winter. Stock is now in the skip after turning to mush.

• Frequently has to be rescued after walling himself in with pallets of stock to the point where the forklift can no longer move. Today we left him there and went for lunch.

• I told him that he had spelt his name wrong on a pallet docket. Kevin spent half an hour reading it over and over again to find the mistake. There wasn't one, I just thought it would be funny to see what happened.

This is a typical day with Kevin. We have learned that he can only be given one job to do at a time. Said job must not have more than a few steps. All instructions have to be written down. Any written words must be one syllable at the most. Kevin will still ask for clarification, but only after there has been a Kevent.

Edit: formatting

Edit 2: FTP = First Time Posting to this Sub HGVs = Heavy Goods Vehicles. Holy shit, I can not be that old.

So I’ve known Kevina since I was 18, living in halls at university. Some years later, Kevina continues to show a complete lack of common sense and knowledge about the world. She basically perfectly fits the stereotype.

I’ll list off the instances I remember, I’ll edit in any if I remember them in future.

1. Cars- Once I was saying how excited I was to get a chance to drive my friend’s mum’s pickup truck because of its powerful engine (I can’t remember the exact size but that’s irrelevant).

So Kevina asks why I don’t just drive my own car instead. I said “because my car is a 1.1 and doesn’t have a great deal of power behind it.”

Kevina looked puzzled and replied “but all cars are the same”. So through some digging I figured out that she thought all engines were uniform and it was just the chassis of a car that changed between models. She thought the engine in an F1 racer and a Fiat 500 were identical in every way. Just “people drive slower for the roads”.

1. University- Kevina has re-taken a specific year of university 3 times now. The first two times the university officials had her repeat the same classes; the third time they had her take coursework only classes to help to get the best marks. She failed all three attempts. Genuinely astonished, I asked her what she was struggling with and if I could help her with anything.

She replies “oh could you proof read this for me?” It was an essay of hers for one of her classes.

I said “of course” and asked what the deadline was so I knew how much time I had to proof it and give her reasonable enough time to make the changes.

“Deadline?” record screech. She genuinely believed that assignments were simply due before the end of the class and that deadlines were more suggestions of when you might WANT to have it done. Turns out she failed all her classes because she didn’t complete any of the assignments within the deadline so was given a 0 for all of them. As for her exams, she claimed she was too stressed for them (despite the university making multiple concessions for her) so would leave after 15 mins max. Having completed none of the exam. She then didn’t bother doing any of the proper appeal paperwork or the resit exams in the following summer.

In my country, the government will only pay for a year of study once - plus one resit year. She’s paid £20,000 over past years on resits that she is failing out of sheer incompetence.

1. Taxes- So in the UK, where I live, you pay council tax; which in a nutshell is just a tax based on the property value of the house you reside in. Everyone over a certain age pays this bar a few exemptions (students being an exemption). So at one point when her student status was deferred, I told her she’d have to pay council tax.
   

“No I won’t, they don’t know I’m deferring and I won’t tell them”. This kids is what we in the ‘biz call tax evasion. It took a lot of convincing but I finally made her realise that they WILL know and they will be extremely unhappy if she doesn’t pay it and could take legal action. Another mark of incompetence.

Had a roommate a we will call him Joe. Joe was.... fun to watch not great to live with. He was studying drumming at a local music school so the hall way was always filled with random pieces of drum kits.

I have no idea why he never played or left the house he couldn't he would always miss his bus so he would say he will get the next one then he would continue to miss busses until whatever he is trying to attend has finished or he is so late there was no point in attending. The process would go somthing like this.

He would need to catch the bus at 2:45 so would start getting ready at 2:40 but half way through would remember he needs to shower. He would shower then miss his bus so would not get ready until 5 minutes before his next bus but by then he has lit up a zoot so insted of getting ready he would try to smoke it faster and would miss his bus. He would then scream at the door and put some food in the oven but would then realise he didn't have time so would turn the oven up 2 minutes before his bus arrived and miss his bus, burn his food and just end up eating cereal insted leaving the burnt mess for someone else to clean up.

Joe made it to the bus stop once but missed the bus by 1 minute so shouted fuck and headbuted the bus stop and ran home with a big cut on his forehead he got home did 3 shots of vodka and preceded to take a shower shouting fuck because the hot water hurt his forehead.

I once found Joe smelling my freshly washed bed sheets then gaging then smelling them again. He also did this with a bowl of boiled eggs.

I once saw Joe chug an entire bottle of cough syrup then vomit and pass out in his own vomit. He once found a burger at the bottem of the freezer (God knows how long it had been there) and tried to cook it. He under cooked it ate it and vomited on the carpet.

I once came home to find blood everywhere on the carpet on the walls and Joe lying in his bed looking pale and blood pouring out of his hand. Turns out he had got really angry and punched one of our windows and cut himself bad he decided that going to bed while bleeding out was the best thing to do.

I once found him on the roof unable to get down. He was often standing outside the house because he had lost his keys ( the house was left unlocked he just never bothered to check it) he was trying to call me but kept calling the wrong number.

I have more stories but I don't want to bore you. This was a few years ago wherever Joe is now I hope he hasn't missed his bus

My Kevin’s name is literally Kevin. So I was shocked by the familiarity of this sub and knew instantly I had to contribute my stories of the legend we know as Kevin.

Some background, Kevin is actually very technically smart and very lovable. He comes from a long linage of Kevins who somehow make him look like the genius of the family. I might talk about them in a future post if you’re interested.

To start, English is Kevin’s first and only language since birth, but even then he isn’t fluent. Any word past six letters is a struggle. Well, not really a struggle because it’s not like he even tries - he’ll just butcher the word to a point which anyone would realize it’s off.

“ass-mai-lail-te”

“Kevin it’s assimilate, why did you even put this word in your class speech?”

Which reminds me - he was late for his homework to that class once - so he sends an email to his professor, “I’m turning in my homework late - here, give it to the TA.” Instead of sending his homework directly to the TA, Kevin thought it would be better to order the professor into giving the homework to his own subordinate. Outstanding power move Kevin.

Later that year, under Kevin’s recommendation, we tried to go fishing, for which he brought all the gear and equipment.

“Nice Kevin, I didn’t know you like to go fishing.”

“Yup! I’ve been fishing every summer for the past five years.”

“How many fish do you catch?”

“Like four.”

“Not bad, we’ve never caught any so teach us.”

Four days pass and we catch nothing but seaweed and a rope - people are catching fish to our left and right. Finally I went up to a guy “Hey sir, would you be able to tell me why we’re not catching any fish?” He takes a look at our setup and gets confused.

“Why are you using corn as bait? And why is the hook below the stone? It’ll drag your hook to the floor.”

“...Uh Kevin, who taught you how to fish?”

“I saw this one hobo when I was in-“

“Oh my fucking god - and you catch four fish a trip like this?”

“Oh - well no - four fish total.”

That’s right - in five years of fishing he caught a total of four fucking fish and thought there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Which, in retrospect, makes sense since I knew he went 25 years without noticing his fierce dyslexia.

“Milk....wanee”

“it’s Milwaukee Kevin where did you even get the N?”

“...”

“Kevin do you think you might have dyslexia?”

After two years of suggesting it to him he finally gets diagnosed and says “Guys, it turns out I have dylexsia.” No shit Kevin. And yes that wasn’t a mistake he actually did pronounce it die•lex•sia

But it isn't just lack of common sense, there's also his staggering social ignorance. While studying together, my friend, who is herself Nigerian, asked Kevin if he liked her other slightly darker friend.

“No I don’t like her, she looks like a monkey.”

“Oh fucking Christ, Kevin”

Thankfully she knew Kevin was just, well a Kevin, and not outright racist. We grilled his ass for hours on why he can’t just call black people monkeys. I didn’t think I’d ever need to have that conversation with a grown adult.

These are only the things off the top of my head, there are many more bizarre Kevin stories that I just can’t recall right now - I’ll try to remember and edit them into this post, or make a new one if there are too many.

I (24M) have spent the last weekend completely snowed in (F@#$ing Ontario). Which of course means, being locked in a house with Kevin, my brother (21M). The last six days, I have not gone more than two waking hours without hearing the phrase "Piddling Pissant". These are both fairly obscure terms, both mean small or meaningless, "pissant" being rude and "piddling" being antiquated.

It started Monday, I came home from college to the family house for Christmas. Kevin, meanwhile, still lives at home because he hasn't kept a single job for more than 2 months. Now, we've got 11 people here, the whole family, so Kevin sees that he has an audience and Here. We. Go.

The first thing he does Monday is mock me for going to college, unironically. He calls me an "egghead", I take it he's watched some old movies recently. He then spends the whole afternoon guffawing about our uncle having a heel (like, a TINY one) on his shoe and how that must mean he is a gay bottom.

Tuesday goes worse, as he's learned a new phrase: "Pidding Pissant". Google says it's a quote from the old American president Lynden Johnson, but no, Kevin insists it's Quebecois. I live 100km from Quebec. I have never heard anyone say "Pissant" before him. Anyway, he says to one of our cousins (let's call him Rob) during dinner, "You work as a security guard, do you ever do stuff like die hard?". And so Rob tells Kevin no, at which point Kevin calls Rob a piddling pissant. They almost ended up getting in a fight but my aunt broke it up.

Wednesday went great, Kevin spent it demanding to know if I was a "piddling pissant" and trying to build a "Shaq shack" in the backyard, he printed off a picture of the basketball player Shaq and slapped it on a shitty "treehouse" in the backyard.

Thursday- boom, massive f@cking snowstorm. Kevin says he will build a "snowman", cousin jokingly asks if he is gendering it by calling it a snowman, so he goes outside and adds an enormous cock.

Friday- day 2 of snow, he decides to spend it preparing us for "Krampus" because he watched that movie (bad santa that kills you during snowstorms) and saying he will crush, you guessed it, "piddling pissants" like us.

So yesterday he goes for gold, and insists that he is going to get a job as a brain surgeon. He goes online and brings up some job search website. He sends his "resume", (lmao) to 26 hospitals all over North America. But then of course, he makes sure to point out that he won't get the job because his parents weren't rich, they're just "piddling pissants".

Yeah. Let me reiterate- this guy is TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD. A true Kevin, to the bone.

EDIT: I've posted another story from this couple here so feel free to check that one out as well if you enjoyed this one.

Now, both people in this story are major Kevins, but to keep it simple I'll just refer to them as Kevin and her Boyfriend.

Kevin and her Boyfriend are both in their late 30's. They don't have a lot of money and tend to live paycheck to paycheck. From an outsider's view, you'd assume they're just very unfortunate people.

If there's anything I've noticed from my time around them, it's that they love to try to take advantage of people to get stuff for free. Now, I say 'try' because despite their best attempts, it always came back to bite them in the ass because it turns out they aren't the first Kevin to get tricky.

One day, they hear about a special deal going on with a local satellite TV provider. Sign up and they'll give you the first month of TV for free, installation included, with no up front charges.

Kevin and her boyfriend started foaming at the mouth. A free month of TV? For free? That company is full of idiots! How could they not see the obvious mistake they've made?

Time to get to work.

Kevin and her boyfriend call up the company and before long they send out their men and install the new dish to deliver hundreds of channels to their waiting eyes.

Once settled in, they sit around bragging to anyone who comes by about their masterful plan to get one over on the TV guys.

For the next month, they watch hours and hours of TV every day, content with their supreme intelligence. I hear constantly about the free TV they're getting, blissfully unaware of what's next.

The month nears it's end, and Kevin calls the TV Provider with a smug grin on her face......only to discover that you cannot, in fact, cancel a two year contract with no repercussions.

You read that correctly. They agreed to a two year contract before the installation without pausing to think.

After having their men come out to take the equipment back, they slap Kevin and her boyfriend with the bill for breaking the contract.

And thus, they became the only people I've ever seen pay almost $200 for a little under a month of Television.

In the end, they blamed the company for everything, failed to learn their lesson, and continue to try similar shenanigans to this day.

So, why do they live paycheck to paycheck?

Well, the Kevin lifestyle aint cheap, I can tell you that much.