Social Question

wundayatta's avatar

Can you tell me about a trick that was played on you that you enjoyed?

Asked by wundayatta (58525points) January 20th, 2013

A lot of tricks are nasty and unpleasant, but some are really good hearted and fun. Did you ever have a nice trick played on you, or did you ever witness a nice trick played on anyone? What was it?

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10 Answers

Blackberry's avatar

A co worker comes up to me. Tells me about another co worker’s brother who is somewhat famous for doing some insane amount of pushups withing a certain amount of time. He tells me to look up the video searching for blah blah (I know that that’s not a correct term but I don’t care).

I can’t find the video so I ask the guy (whose brother did the pushup feat) about it.

He then proceeds to rip into me about how I’m so fucked up and cruel because I made a joke about his brother who lost his arm in some accident.

Feels bad, man.

YARNLADY's avatar

Small presents that are wrapped in large boxes are always fun.

9doomedtodie's avatar

Last year, I was fooled on April fools’ day. It was funny and I enjoyed it. :D

Bellatrix's avatar

An old boss got a rolex watch for his birthday from a friend. He was sooooooooooo into this watch. I could see him looking at it every five minutes. The team had bought him a present and a cake but he had no idea. We finished work at 5pm but at 4pm we all packed up and started leaving as if we were going home. He was saying “Where are you going? It’s only 4 o’clock!” So we all said “no, it’s 5, your watch must be wrong!” and walked out. Then we came back in the other door and surprised him with his cake and present. When we walked in he was looking forlornly at his watch. He saw the funny side when we burst back in.

dabbler's avatar

I was the new guy in a summer house. I was informed that everyone takes turns sorting the trash out to separate the recycleables from other refuse. One of the housemates had a big rubber glove and separate bags for different kinds of stuff.
I protested vehemently that this was stupid and I insisted that the correct way to “reduce the entropy of the trash” is at disposal time.
Turns out it was just a bit of a hazing ritual, but they were all surprised that I objected so much, most people went along with it for a turn before they let them in on it.

newtscamander's avatar

My sister and my two best friends took me to the city centre with them, they said they needed to go shopping at a specific store. But then they started off in the wrong direction, and led me into our favourite restaurant for a surprise celebration of the exam I had just passed :)

Pachy's avatar

Offhand I can’t remember any great trick played on me, but I remember a doozy I played on a co-worker years ago. I invited him to a small party at my house, and in collusion with the other guests, I served brownies that I claimed were laced with grass. Everybody ate them and pretended to get stoned; this guy actually did get stoned, really stoned, even to the point of not being able to walk. Somebody had to drive him home. A few days later I admitted the joke. He wasn’t happy.

wundayatta's avatar

Love it, @Pachyderm_In_The_Room! Goes to show you that a lot of this getting high business is in your head. Placebo effect. You don’t need drugs or alcohol. You just need a desire to be nuts and a willingness to give it up to your inner nut.

Pachy's avatar

@wundayatta, you’re right, as borne out by the fact that I’m sitting here totally stoned on a toasted bagel with cream cheese.

Soubresaut's avatar

It was when I was a child (five-ish), but I still remember it. My parents had my sister and me start packing close to the time of my birthday. “Where are we going?” I asked. I was really excited—a birthday trip!
“Orange County,” my parents said.
You may know where this is going; I did not. “Oh,” is what I responded, not sure where or what that was, or why we were going. Any question I asked after that, I kept getting back oranges. Stupid oranges.

The trip was long, and I was grumpy. My dad kept trying to cheer me up, but I just became more gloomy. He was describing Orange County to me—a place with acres and acres of orange trees, very very popular orange trees. We’d pay for admittance to the fields, and then the fun would begin! We’d all get a pail, and get to run around from tree to tree picking oranges. We’d have to run, he explained, because other families and other kids were just as anxious to get the good oranges. Most orange trees even had long lines you had to wait in just to get to pick an orange! My response: why stand in line then? Why don’t we just let the other kids have them? If they want them so bad?. No, we want the oranges too; what else would we eat for dinner? I don’t like oranges!! You’ll like these oranges.

I really, really doubted it.

It was dark when we arrived. I asked where the orange trees were. I wanted to size them up, see what this was all about. They pointed to the tall building sillhouette we were approaching: in there, they keep the orange trees inside the wall, or else anybody could walk up and pick them. I grumbled. People seemed silly—for oranges! just for stupid oranges! I stamped my feet as I walked, and kept my eyes staring at the ground. I remember this because the next thing I see confuses me—a large entrance matt, with cursive writing.

I couldn’t read cursive yet, so this irritated me further; but I recognized the shape of one of the words. That was Disney! Disney? The rest of my family had gone into the building, and so when I looked up, I saw them at the Disneyland hotel registration desk. I ran after them.

I’ve been told that I then asked, “but what about the oranges?” and they laughed. There were never any oranges.

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