Criminal background check florida time limit

(Based in central Florida) we hired a small kitchen and bath renovation company to do some tile work about 2 months ago. The owner had us pay for all materials he purchased, but when the job was complete there was a lot left over. When husband returned the items to get the money back, the store refused to give store credit, only allowing the money to go back to the contractors credit card. We have tried for over a week to contact him to return the money that we already paid him (and has now been refunded to him again via the store) but he is suddenly completely unreachable. PLOT TWIST: In our research to find an alternative way of contacting him, we found that the man is a registered sex offender for the forced rape of a minor. We have a young daughter in the house and needless to say, we are completely horrified that we let this man into our home without doing any checks on him. (Yes, we messed up). Suddenly I am not concerned with the money at all. I want to know if he is allowed to be running a business that puts him in a position to be in close contact with children without any type of disclosure of his offender status. I can’t seem to find any answers in legislature online. Since he is the business owner, obviously it is no issue to “disclose his criminal history to employer” as he IS the employer. I have found a multitude of reports on him scamming, ripping off, and threatening LOTS of other clients, with many reports filed; however law enforcement nor the BBB are doing anything to stop him at all. My biggest concern is if he is allowed to not disclose the SO status to his customers when he is personally working in their homes. Maybe if I can report him for that, it would also put a stop to his scams and horrible business practices too.

I dropped out of college to play poker for a living and did that successfully for 7 years. Odd jobs/service industry for 6 years. Delivery drivepromoted to Sr Manager of a contracted home delivery operation for a major corporation for past 6 years to present.
Additionally: somatic experience practitioner, compassionate inquiry training (Gabor mate), polarity therapy, yoga instructor, 7 years participating in hundreds of ayahuasca ceremonies. Scattered teaching experience. Gave up on a life coaching LLC.
OTE ~100k this year. No benefits, but sometimes workdays are short, and not particularly demanding. Also not very stimulating, not learning much, and probably at the growth ceiling for this company/franchise (I’m the owner’s right-hand-man).
Bought a condo (interest rates suck), and a puppy, feeling stretched and that’s even with support from my mom on the mortgage. Fiancé is building a business as a therapist. Absorbing some of her startup costs & low income. Would love to find a job/path that meets some/all of the following criteria:
-remote -work with interesting tech -learn new skills -work with intelligent peiple -healthcare -401k matching -room to grow
Really I think a lot of the pressure I’m feeling is around wanting to give my lady the chance to be a full-time mom (and/or part-time worker) should she choose it. And to afford certain lifestyle upgrades and simply have some more peace of mind.
I feel qualified, and confident I could do any number of things well. But, I’m hesitant to “just pick something” because of my stage of life 36 yo and we want to start a family soon, fiancé is 33. Going back to school, even a project manager cert is daunting in terms of initial investment.
My dream would be to find a great job with a great company, wouldn’t care much what I’m doing if it’s stimulating enough and I’m learning and checks the boxes above. Since I don’t have the tech or specific background, it seems like I’d have to backstep salary-wise before I can go forward.
Sales stands out, but seems tough to crack into the tier I’d want to be at without grinding out cold calls first, plus the volatility of working commissions.
Any input/feedback or further questions are welcome and appreciated!

This happend almost 5 years ago, and unfortunately I am only now asking about. I had employer provided health insurance in 2019, but had to be put on medical leave. Because of that I was required to manually pay the company the amount for insurance via money order to upkeep the insurance. Once of the months (May?) I missed the due date by a few days, but they money was taken and after returning to work money continued to be taken from my paycheck.
Months later (October?) I find out that because I was late on that payment, the company/ insurance rolled back the valid coverage date to earlier in may. And a month later I was refunded the money taken put of my checks. Because of that roll back, the dr I was seeing sent me numerous bills of the time from may until that point.
The seperate bills were confusing and I should've questioned them more. But between not being in a good spot mentally and in life, plus the stress of playing phone tag with the billing department and their voicemail and never being able to contact them easily I didn't follow up like I should have.
The following year that office ended up selling the listed debt to a collections company. And now I'm wondering if anything can be done, or if it's been so long there's no point? Im not sure if what happend is standard practice, or if its just something really shady/unfortunate that happened. I was a much younger adult back then with a lot less experience/backbone. I'm trying to tie up loose ends and make a plan to my future that I didn't have before.
I live in Florida and work in florida, but the work headquarters/insurance was based in Idaho at the time if that effects anything?

Hey, I was playing with a friend earlier thats playing a Minion Necro (and basically carrying me as a Frozen Orb sorc) and two times, during high hp bosses, he did like 2/3 of the boss hp in one go. Once during a pit 60 and once in Tormented Lord Zir.
He's not very knowledge of the game and just following a guide, but I know he doesn't use Army of the Dead, Ring of Mendelin and afaik no overpower synergies, those are the bursts that I could think of. I checked everything in his profile and couldn't came up with anything, but my knowledge about Necro is very limited.
I just need to know because maybe he can replicate it more often. We did several 60 pits and 2 tormented bosses, this only happened twice.
And bonus question if anyone minds: if he is confortable doing pit 60, can we try Tormented Duriel? My only contribution is staggering the boss and eventually reviving him.

Who does this?
As a business traveler I'm limited where I can stay, but this is the ONLY place I have ever been charged for early check-in, and I have traveled all over the place. Additionally, check in time is late compared to other places. 4 pm check in time.
Bethesda MD Hyatt. Not sure if corporate policy, but I'll gladly take my business elsewhere.
Good luck Hyatt.

Male 25/ 158lbs/ 5'11", Hey hoping anyone might have some insight or recommendations for me as I'm at a loss here. I've been having a lot of health issues over the past 3 weeks.
It initially started as some breathlessness every now and then (feeling like there's negative pressure in my lungs), especially with light exertion, something I've never had before. Then a few days later I also started getting some tightness in my chest, alongside what feels like fluctuations in heart/blood flow, anything from it getting faster and harder when sitting up/laying down to randomly, I can almost visibly see my heartbeat go down to my abdomen (gets worse throughout the day). Around this same time I started getting a lot of bloating in my abdomen, alongside an increase in flatulence, and lots of noises made especially when trying to lay down in any position, alongside an uncomfortable feeling (no pain) this has caused trouble sleeping sometimes.
Since then I've had a lot of other things come and go, unsure if related but no obvious cause, including headaches, dizziness, small muscle spams and twitches, joint soreness and extreme erections whenever waking up in the night (not normal for me usually). Something I also had a couple of times is some major muscle spams around my inner chest which I found to co-inside with the last point, it would last for a couple of minutes and it felt like all the muscles inside my chest would spam, no breathing or heartbeat noticeably affected or pain.
Initially I went to the doctors for the breathing issues and had an x-ray to check for fluid in the lungs however that came back clear. We have a blood pressure monitor at home that I have tested regularly with however always comes back perfect. Afterwards I was sent for an ecg then echocardiogram (no physical exertion), which also came back perfect. However as the issue is on and off wondering if it would show up when not happening? Lastly my doctor had a blood test for celiac as it has been known to run in my family, however this has also come back clear. At this point he has just recommended me to check if eating anything particular causes any issues, which I have been trying to do (haven't noticed anything in particular).
For some background info I live a very sedentary lifestyle, suffer with a lot of anxiety, get almost no sun, work at a computer and spend the vast majority of my other time also at a computer, I would however say I am still average+ fitness. I do go to the gym for weight training twice a week however have stopped since developing these symptoms. Around 5 months ago I started bulking, just upped my current diet, which is relatively good (maybe a tiny bit lacking in vegetables). I started cutting around a week before I noticed these symptoms, I stopped immediately (was at around 2,100 kcals for a 2.5k basal rate.) One thing I did notice a couple of months ago was a weird feeling right near the front of my lower stomach, a very small amount of tenderness and a weird feeling like something running their finger down my stomach, very minor and barely noticed it when it happened, may be entirely unrelated.
I also went to the hospital a year back for a pinched nerve in lower back, had some pain which went away, however had a very similar feeling in stomach, intestines and troubles sleeping due to it being uncomfortable (haven't noticed anything directly in back now however).
Lastly a few days before I noticed the lung issues initially I had a really intense cardio workout for the first time in years which is initially what I thought might be connected to the breathlessness, not sure if that's feasible but it's where my mind went.
Apologies for the wall of test just wanted to get all the information across as there's a lot to it, this is severely impacting me as I can barely concentrate enough for work, thankyou!

M21 I'm doubting if it was strict parenting or if it was the drink but I want opinions. She has done a lot but I don't feel entirely satisfied either. But in the days I have drafted this, my doubts only grow.
As a kid my mom hawked over me and now things I wish I could have experienced did not exist, like going to a park or playground with a friend without supervision, whereas she did. Going to the gas station for snack I couldn't, when she asked her parents and was given a quarter when everything was a cent. Riding a bike was limited to the street we live on, and when I was able to leave, I couldn't leave the neighborhood when she walked for a while to make sure her friend got home. Once sitting on my bike at the edge of the sidewalk and she walked over, cursed me out for going on a different street and wouldn't believe me. I couldn't go to a friends house because I was going to do my homework how my teacher taught me instead of hers, which I didnt know and was not taught. At a friends house, she berated me for making her wait in the car for a few minutes longer than the arranged pickup time. By comparison to what it would have been like, it is a magical opportunity lost.
For most of my school years, all I did was go to school, do homework and play games. Despite catching on to lessons quickly, classes were something to pass, nothing more, not even for life skills. Have a B? Make it an A. I did. Is the project due? Make it better. Alright. Taking orchestra and painting was fleeting then and while I enjoyed it, it was only done for practice or assignment. Now I am upset that it was all I did instead of going out and experiencing life: going out with friends, finding a club or sport to do, or just big activity sessions. Never had a curfew because I never left home to start. I may have had fun gaming then, but I lament heavy over that now to where I will not touch one. A future education and the future as a whole I should have taken a lot more seriously than I could possibly have imagined. School did push for it, but I was a fool and did not care.
Other than the occasional family visit, I did nothing and learned nothing. Never taught to cook much, properly clean, shop for necessities, make right finances, etc. Future prospects was left to whatever I would choose, which I would put it later down the road. Never got any real world experience and just been sheltered for so long, both by my doing and my moms. No drive to do anything, nothing of a hopeful future, no being pulled out of whatever I was doing to learn anything or having skills necessary in the world today be incentivized. Aside from making sure I did well in school, I was left to myself.
She always has something to complain about. Streaks of mean and grumpy. Remembered somethings of what we were interested in but other times just an empty face. Who my mom is today is doom and gloom, speaking two different points that are showing the worst of her and nitpicking over every possible detail. Most of who she enjoys in media has an underlying toxic presence to them with name calling. Polarize, prejudice, politicize, judge and bias everything. Norway and Iceland? Too cold and mountainous, how could anyone have settled there? Germany? They all speak the same language and cannot understand anyone in a city that is 30 minutes away. That guy's accent she can't stand and defaulted to being generated, even though he sounds the same speaking Finnish. All for a better planet yet everything is wasted, trashed, or sent to China. Treat others how you want to be and from where I stand, seem like a backtalking coward. Couldn't have a water pitcher because "no one refilled it" to keep the filter going when I made sure to keep it plentiful. If she has a problem she will bring up the one exact same example related to the topic that I have heard plenty before. And most of the negative aspects of society happen more likely than they should. All while bring home a 24, 30 or however many count of budweiser a week at least. I imagine we only got along because I wasn't a brat anymore and did not try to upset her. Falling in line if you will.
Emotions bottled or maybe emotionally dead. The masculinity trap of what is the general expectation of "men". To express myself, to show emotion, to even cry is something I don't want to do out of fear of being seen, which is ironic given the code of the samurai. 6th grade she didn't remember to pick me up even though I said and called and a friend and his friend caught me being emotional and stayed around a bit to comfort me.
The fear that was put into everything. An actual quote went something as "If you get hurt, I'm not going to drive you to the hospital". Another "All girls are evil". And "that sounds too confrontational" when I asked neighbors to clean after their dog. Even questioning if my eyes doing something required a doctor for her to say that my eyes will fail naturally and something about her relative who had an eye problem and didn't see a doctor. Things that made me not do the kinds of things I want to do now. I have been so sheltered then and now that I want to go out but there is the ever scared part of me towards the unknown world. I feel I have been prejudiced into thinking such ways but there's no personal experience to back or challenge said thoughts.
Admittably, parts of me are glad I know what I have and want for morals and mindset, but its also a matter of temptation and theres still so much that I wish to explore. At times I feel I matured too quickly at the cost of a kids stupidity or innocence and now am too serious and heavyhearted for my own good. To be told how I've matured when there wasn't much to mature from. A part of me feels that I have taken after her cold, judgemental, selfish attitude and that makes me fearful to screw up any kind of friendship or relationship, and dreading that I could reflect that onto any child I may have no matter how far away into the future I do have one. I kind of want to hate her but I am so emotionally gone or warped that I can't. If I "rebel" now, or begin to, I feel that might get the fire started.
She would argue with my dad from time to time but then that continued on for days and it was a cold environment lasting days to weeks after a fight. Even prior to their fights, they rarely slept together in the same bed, let alone the same room. She would critique his employer and even his choice of friends. Once he woke up late, thus having us late to get ready for school and she began one for that. I don't remember the exact details but she once criticized him over a coat he got me. All while listening from the top of the stairs to even the bottom where I was covered by a wall. A few times we listened and we made noise that I think made them aware of us but that didn't stop them. Even starting in our presence where we would leave the room. It got to the point where he actually packed lightly to leave for the night or days and my brother and I stopped him just so he could be home. I wish I did let him go then.
I really do believe I could have had it differently if my dad was alive. He made such an effort. When I was in hospital at 4, he made the efforts to get me out and moving around. When I didn't know a swim style, he literally chucked me towards the deeper waters (I was scared, but he was right in the end, one of the fondest memories). He taught me how to use the mower and had a mini shop set up in the garage. I played with him so much and he got me into the complex games he enjoyed as I got older. For as rough we were, he was so gentle. I looked up to him then and even more than ever now. He made the effort to be one worthy of "Dad" and he was damn well worthy of that and no one could be more better for me.
"Faded gray are all the days of yesteryears So much time has turned to memories and to tears" -Valkyrja
I did graduate HS 3 years ago, did a summer program and since nothing. No job, education chances, or life plans. Even though I felt smarter, I was turned off of college simply for cost reasons and "feeding the rich" mindset. Last summer I began to look at my past and future with a whole new look with no physical change taking effect. First week into March this year I realized what I have been doing compared to how others are living through good and bad and I fell into depression hard. Now it persists with great off and on. Where I have been up at 9 in the morning to suddenly be up at 5 or 6 in the afternoon. Throughout the past 3 years, there was no making sure I was ok, no seeing how I felt, no finding out what I wanted to do. And I am still frightened of what may be out there, even when that is the key to the living that I want. I want to go, I need to go. But where? I leave for the good and better of myself, but I also leave behind this place I've called home, yet it's now so far from the one I want to remember with a fond memory. So much happens that seems to have been "normal" when it doesn't seem like it should. The same place with the same inhabitants in the same motions. No going out, no difference, no change, and VERY artificial. Nothing means anything anymore. To let how I feel about the previous years subside in me or blow over...
Always have been insecure, hesitant, second guessing. While others had spent their 18s, 19s and 20s going into the world doing many things, I've had the summer program at 18, nothing at 19, and two days in the big city to attend a concert at 20. Little noteworthy moments under my belt. It seems like love in the immediate family was not two ways or had to be earned. I have not grown. Who I am is not who I want to be at heart.
For 21, I know I should have more skills and be in better places, but theres nothing from anyone. No check-in, no advice, no motivation. Like "the birdling will leave the nest" instead of anyone preparing a boy to what is before him. Its not a snap of fingers or blink of an eye do I learn what is expected. On the grown up part, I feel heavily underprepared for the world and life. Far too long have I stayed and lived in my head. I cannot understand why I am still at home, a part of myself thinks to keep the peace but what peace needs to be kept? Nothing and no one is stopping me from leaving except myself and the thought that they will most definitely want to know where I am if I go, which I do not want to tell anyone. Or that I've been sheltered and not have realised the gates have been unlocked long ago. Things are not ok and I want to stop pretending when I leave. Even with Spring's green grass under a blue sky that ends the day with the orange sunset piercing the clouds to make them blue and pink do I feel grey.
"Watching to the night with tired eyes Waiting for nothing all my life" -Battle Against Time
I feel the kid within me, wanting to do those exciting things, yearning for any kind of companion or fellowship. What daylight reveries I can conjure to make him feel hopeful enough so he can shine soon. The things I want to do to feel happy. I want to water that little guy.
A lot of this I have remembered recently and still am connecting the dots. I already am upset at myself for not doing anything in life, but I want to be angry and I honestly hate myself for not seeing this sooner and listening to her for so long. Despite feeling broken and defunct, I still feel young enough but there's been so little done that it feels many chances are long gone. There is more freedoms I have that I do not know about and ones that I have had before that gathered dust. And now I am in a toss up between beginning college preparation now, leaving states or the country to act on these now childhood regrets. I don't want to be who I am now any longer. I just want to do something. And in between it all, confusion of what to do, how to feel and saddened that I am not who I once was or could have been.

Howdy. I am officer M (only M, privacy reasons, could lose my job if I was exposed). I’ve been investigating these three cases for the past few years, and I wanted to see if anyone had any clue how to solve them.
I normally wouldn’t go to places like Reddit for this, but I’m desperate. Everyone else I’ve tried has said that this is some kind of webseries project thing. It isn’t.
I’m gonna show you the transcriptions of three sets of video tapes. The first set is from James Barlowe, the second from Daren Redd, and the third from Nick Robin.
Well, I’d better get on with it.
[- - -]
There’s only one tape in this section. It begins with a man in a priest’s uniform (identified as James Barlowe) in the driver’s seat of a car. The person holding the camera is in the passenger’s side.
CAMERAMAN (LATER IDENTIFIED AS NICK ROBIN): “So! What’re we doing, James?”
JAMES: “Oh, uhm, we’re going to a haunted house to perform an exorcism.”
NICK: “Hell yeah we are!”
Nick turns the camera towards his face.
NICK: “Someone tipped us off on a haunted house recently, so we’re gonna go check it out. And James is gonna use his cool priest powers or whatever to get rid of the ghosts! Right James?”
The camera pans to James.
JAMES: “Ah- Yeah.”
The camera turns back to Nick.
NICK: “Now, I’m not gonna be in this one too much, since James is gonna be doing his stuff on his own.”
JAMES: “Wait what?”
The tape cuts off here, and picks back up with James holding the camera. He’s in front of a run-down, abandoned house. He seems nervous, fidgeting with the stole around his neck.
JAMES: “Okay, so, uhm. I am Father Barlowe, and, uhm..I kind of thought Nick was gonna be here. He- He told me he was gonna be here. I dunno. Uhm. Today I’m going to exorcise this ghost. I, uh, don’t know if I’m allowed to do that anymore. But I know how.”
James turns the camera around, and starts to walk into the house. The front door opens into a hallway, which leads to a living room. The camera shakes as James fumbles with his pockets, then brings out a cross. He holds it out in front of him.
JAMES: “Uhm, if there are any ghosts here, show yourself.”
Nothing happens. James mutters something about editing. He waves the cross around dramatically.
JAMES: “Ghost, or demon, or whatever you are, please come and-”
A loud bang comes from somewhere within the house. James seems to flinch. He can be heard heavily breathing as he turns the camera towards the sound.
JAMES: “Uhm..Okay. That’s okay. I’ve got a cross. I’m okay.”
James begins to walk down the hall, where the sound was heard. The camera is shaking, and James is holding out his cross.
JAMES: “Okay, uhm- I think..I think the ghost is in there.”
James points to the doorway at the end of the corridor, then advances towards it. He walks through, and into what appears to be a study. There is a desk and chair in the corner. The chair has a pitch-black figure in it.
JAMES: “Oh god, okay, uhm- Okay. Okay. Uhm. Uh- Demon!”
The figure turns to face James. He holds out his cross with a trembling hand.
JAMES: “Foul creature, begone from this home-”
The figure stands up and begins to walk towards James. The camera is dropped.
JAMES: “Oh God, oh God!”
James can be heard running away.
[- - -]
This first tape is very intriguing to me. The figure has not been identified. At least, not as anyone in the town.
I interviewed both Nick Robin and James Barlowe (they had not gone missing after this video. quite the contrary, in fact. James Barlowe is the one that brought the video to police), and they revealed that most of the content in their videos was fake.
They said that the events of the video were not planned.
[- - -]
The camera appears to be moved around a bit, before setting up to show a man in a red hoodie (identified as Daren Redd) sitting in an office chair. It can be assumed that he’s at his desk. He smiles at the camera.
DAREN: “Uh- Hi. This feels weird, haha. I don’t think I should introduce myself? I don’t know. No one but me’s gonna see this anyways. Unless I make, like, a giant scientific discovery. Or break a world record.”
Daren fidgets with the strings of his hoodie, twirling one between his fingers.
DAREN: “So. My sleep schedule sucks. I’ve been trying to fix it for weeks now, it isn’t working. I’ve decided, fuck it, I’m just gonna roll with it. So! I’m gonna try and stay up for 12 days straight.”
Daren grabs the camera, and shows a calendar up on the wall. The month and year are cut off. Two days are circled (Tuesday, then the next Saturday).
DAREN: “I’ve got a calendar here so that I can figure out how long I’ve been up. If I do more physical stuff, maybe I’ll stay up longer! Haha.”
The camera pans back to Daren.
DAREN: “I’ve got my room-mate watching over me. He’s actually in here right now- Say hi, Nick!”
(PRESUMABLY) NICK, IN THE BACKGROUND: “Hey.”
DAREN: “I rested up real good to prepare for this, so I’m hoping that my plan works. So, uh..Yeah. D-Man out.”
The next tape starts out with Daren holding the camera up to Nick Robin.
DAREN: “Niiiiiiiick.”
NICK: “Why are you recording me?”
DAREN: “Nick how long have I been awake?”
NICK: “Since yesterday, I think.”
Daren flips the camera around to face him. He has a large grin on his face.
DAREN: “That’s right, baby! D-Man has been awake for one whole day! Well- Two? One? Since Tuesday. It’s, uh, Wednesday.”
Daren shows the calendar to the camera. Tuesday is crossed off.
DAREN: “So far, nothing weird has happened yet. I’m tired, but I’ve been drinking a ton of Monster.”
The camera pans to a trash can, with several cans of Monster in it.
DAREN: “So! I should be able to stay up as long as I need. World record, here I come!”
The third tape begins with Daren dragging a trash bag outside.
DAREN: “Ok so I forgot to record a tape today, and I know that if I don’t do it now I’m gonna forget again. But, uhm, I’ve been up for..Uh..I dunno. Time is a concept, anyways. It’s Thursday now, though!”
Daren heaves the trash bag into a can. He walks back inside, and sighs with relief as he enters.
DAREN: “Whew, I love air conditioning.”
NICK (IN THE BACKGROUND): “Dude- Why don’t you take your hoodie off?”
DAREN: “Ah, y’know.”
NICK: “I really don’t.”
DAREN: “See, you get it!”
Daren chuckles and brings the camera into his room. He sets it down on his desk, and sits down in the office chair. He has bags under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than usual.
DAREN: “So. Recently, I’ve been tired. Like, horridly tired. To the point where even sitting down is a..” Yawn. “Risky move for me. But, working from home is keeping me on my toes. Who knew that writing reports could be so exhilerating!”
He looks over his shoulder for a moment, before turning back to the camera. His eyes appear wide and frightened, but he’s still smiling.
DAREN: “Uh, pro tip, maybe don’t try this stuff! I’m stupid enough to try and get a world record, but you, uh, shouldn’t be. Anyways, uhm, D-Man out.”
The fourth tape shows Daren in the hospital, sitting next to Nick, who is in a bed with an IV in his arm. Daren’s eye bags have gotten worse.
DAREN: “Hey, uhm. I don’t know if I’m supposed to record in here. I had to drive Nick to the hospital- He had a dairy allergy thing.”
NICK: “I said he could record in here, don’t worry.”
DAREN: “Yea, he- He said I could record this. I think I’m gonna stay the night here- People do that at hospitals, right? But, uh, they don’t need a bed for me. Because I’m not sleeping! I’m just gonna, uh, play on my phone for the night.”
Daren looks over his shoulder, before turning back to the camera.
DAREN: “Well! It’s Friday now. Been, uh, four days, I think? Yeah. I’ve been awake for four whole days! Well, uhm, this is more filler than anything. Nothing to note. D-Man out.”
The fifth tape is corrupted. Nothing is salvageable.
The sixth tape begins with Daren sitting at his desk. He looks tired beyond comprehension. His knee is bouncing, and he’s tapping his fingers on the table.
DAREN: “Uh, day..Six. I think. It’s Sunday now. The Lord’s day, ha-ha! I’m- I’m not religious. But, uhm, I know one of Nick’s friends is. James something. Maybe I should call that guy. I-”
Daren cuts himself off by looking over his shoulder. He looks back. His eyes are wild and terrified.
DAREN: “I think this was a bad idea. A horrible idea. I- I tried to sleep yesterday. But I couldn’t. I can’t- I can’t close my eyes for too long. Uhm..Nick has been in the hospital since Friday. He’s- He should be back by now. His visits never take this long.”
Daren chuckles. His voice sounds nervous.
DAREN: “He should be back soon, though, right? Right. He’s just taking a bit longer than usual. Uhm, Darry out.”
The seventh tape shows Daren sitting under his desk. He sets up the camera and brings his knees to his chest.
DAREN: “Nick came back today. He, uhm. He’s acting different. I was- I was talking to him, and he, uhm. He forgot he had a dairy allergy. He just..Forgot. I reminded him and he went- He went, oh, yeah. Like he didn’t go to the hospital for it a couple days ago.”
Daren appears to be trembling. He pulls his hood over his head.
DAREN: “..Been awake for seven days, ha-ha. So close! Just, uhm..Five? Four? Something around that. That many days left. I don’t- I don’t wanna do this. But I think I have to. I think it’ll leave me alone if I..”
Daren looks up at something offscreen, and screams.
[- - -]
Daren Redd went missing after this video. I’ve been looking for him for years. I’m trying to stay professional here, but I really don’t know what’s going on. I still sometimes try to figure out what he was looking at in the last tape. But there’s no reflection in his eyes- No shadows anywhere. Nothing. Could he be hallucinating?
I don’t think he is. I think he’s seeing things, sure, but they’re real. They have to be real.
[- - -]
This last section begins with Nick Robin in a car. He’s driving this time, with the camera on the dashboard. James is in the passenger seat. There’s camping gear and a few bags in the back seats.
NICK: “Hey! Welcome back to the PDC (later identified as Paranormal Discovery Channel, the youtube account that both Nick Robin and James Barlowe share), today we’re gonna be exploring a whole abandoned town! It’s called, uh..What was it called again?”
JAMES: “Sasbol heights.”
NICK: “Right, right. Sasbol heights or whatever. Anyways! It’s gonna be cool. Oh- There it is! Dude dude dude- Look!”
The camera points to a charred-looking town. Maybe burnt down?
NICK: “We’re gonna get settled, then get back to all of you. I’ll see y’all soon!”
The next tape begins with Nick sitting in a tent.
NICK: “So! It’s been, like, a day. The first night was pretty underwhelming- Just some creepy old town with bugs and stuff. Nothing too special. Just a bigger version of a haunted house.”
Nick looks off screen- Presumably at James. Nick chuckles.
NICK: “James is sleeping right now. Apparently he’s been having nightmares? That’s, uh, pretty normal for him, though. Oh! Today I started setting up the ghost hunting stuff. Unpacking, putting up cameras, all that jazz.”
There’s shuffling from behind the camera. Nick smiles at (assumedly) James, and winks at the camera.
The third tape starts with Nick and James going into one of the abandoned houses. Nick seems much more enthusiastic than James.
JAMES: “We’re gonna put a voice-over on this, right?”
NICK: “Yea, yea. Something something, abandoned house, something something.”
JAMES: “Good, good, uhm..Nick, man, you know I like doing this and all..But I don’t think I like this episode. It’s like- It feels wrong, y’know?”
NICK: “Mm..You’re right, you’re right. But hey! Think of the money we’ll get from this. Our reactions are gonna be authentic and shit. Plus, we’ve only got a day left.”
Nick pats James’ back, and James smiles.
JAMES: “Right. You’re right.”
The fourth tape is corrupted.
The fifth tape doesn’t include James or Nick’s face, but we can assume who is talking.
NICK: “Listen, man, it- It just got corrupted. It’s fine, right? It’s cool. We can redo it-”
JAMES: “I’m fucking serious, Nick! This isn’t normal! None of the shit we saw yesterday was planned!”
NICK: “I know, I know, but come on man! I need this money!”
JAMES: “Money isn’t worth it, at this point. Please, God, let’s just leave.”
NICK: “If you wanna leave, just go! I can do the video without you.”
JAMES: “I’m not just leaving you with these demons!”
Both Nick and James are quiet for a while. Nick silently walks back to the tent, bringing the camera with him.
The sixth tape is shot from within Nick’s car. Nick is driving, the camera is on the dashboard. He seems terrified.
NICK: “I’m not publishing this. I’m keeping this for myself, and- I don’t know! The police, probably! Jesus Christ- I’m fucking speeding. Are there even road laws here?”
Nick looks at his gas tank, seeing the needle nearing the E. He begins to tear up.
NICK: “Fuck- Uhm. What happened. James tried to kill me, and- And I don’t think he’s James anymore. I really don’t. He’s- He’s not that guy I went to high school with. There’s actually no way.”
He looks at the camera briefly, doing a quick double take.
NICK: “What- No. No. No- Goddammit! Leave me alone!”
The car swerves, and the camera topples over.
[- - -]
I’ve been thinking about these cases since I found them. The actual police department doesn’t know about them- And I haven’t told my superior about them. These tapes just kind of appeared at my doorstep one day, along with a camera.
I looked at the camera’s film, and found three images.
The first one is a picture from the first set of tapes. It seems edited, though. James has a halo.
The second one is from the second set. It shows an image of Daren, with some kind of pitch-black figure behind him.
The third one is, supposedly, from the third set. Though nothing like it is seen anywhere in the tapes. It’s an image taken from the driver’s seat of Nick’s car, showing the camera from the video on the dashboard. On the screen of the camera is Nick. The image is edited to show a car tire over Nick’s face.
If anyone knows anything about James Barlowe, Daren Redd, or Nick Robin, please tell me at [xxxxxxxxxxxxxx]@gmail.com.

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For some background I work in a non union state, I have my degree in 8-12 English, I currently work as a suspension teacher, and I've been working in different school settings/ages for almost 10 years.
Today was the first time I've ever had to leave work early for a reason related to my job. I have spent nearly this entire year trying to to keep my colleagues from falling apart due to severe behavior from students in the classroom. I have tried to keep as positive of an attitude as I can while also venting frustrations. Today I became the one that fell apart.
What makes it worse is that this wasn't even the worst behavior I've dealt with this year. I have had furniture thrown, students physically push me, and been called every name in the book. Today I was disrespected for two hours and had a student leave the room without permission. It doesn't sound that bad on paper, but it broke something inside of me to be completely disrespected and disregarded by a 13 year old whom I had done nothing but try and help for two days.
I work really hard to form relationships with the kids that come into my room because they are typically the trouble makers. It makes my life easier when they know what to expect from me and I also like trying to help them and be a safe person they can come to. I have multiple students who come by just to check in or talk throughout the day because I've worked so much at setting expectations for them.
But today when I was crying in the staff lounge, trying to get it together, I was told that student that had disrespected me would not be sent home because they have a difficult parent. What are we doing?? Why is this happening?
When are these parents going to wake up and realize they are ruining their children's prospects for any kind of a future? We can't send certain kids home on OSS because they want to be there so they can run wild or be attached to a screen all day. We've had kids repeatedly bring drugs into school, deface school property, threaten teachers, and constantly get into physical altercations. I live in a smaller district and know these issues aren't new, but for us they are. Our community prides itself on being supportive and close knit, but then threaten to sue the school and anyone that dares to reprimand their children.
Is this just the collapse of public education and potentially the education system in general? I'm sorry but these kids are going to end up being homeless, jobless, and imprisoned. They can't write, read, perform basic math skills, have a normal conversation with an adult, and they are always the victim.
I'm not quitting my job because surprisingly I love it most days. But I am so tired of no one taking us seriously and being the punching bags for our of control parents and their offspring.

Okay, this is going to be a bit of a rant, but I want to know what people think. Let me preface this with a statement.. I know there are slumlords out there, I know there are poor tenants out there, and we all know there are just scumbags walking the earth.. but when did people become so entitled as to not give a landlord what they are requiring for you to live under their roof? I guess I just don’t get it. In all the years I’ve rented from landlords, I gave them whatever costs they were asking for, whatever applications needed to be filled out, and cooperated with any background and credit checks. Now, as I’m a landlord, I require all of my tenants to get screened before signing them onto a lease as a leasee. That’s the rules. Do it for everyone.. no expections. It’s literally $40 for the screening. I have my new tenant trying to prove to me that he’s only gotten one traffic violation ticket in his life, he has no previous arrests, yada yada.. and is just trying to save money when he can. Mind you this is a boyfriend coming onto the lease with his gf who is already a tenant. It just grinds my gears. Just please do what I ask for man… bc now you put a bad taste in my mouth!! Am I alone here?? People don’t understand that it’s a business.. and the one time you let someone else dictate what rules are and are not okay, it goes downhill. That’s why landlords screen tenants.. we’ve all learned from mistakes. Jeez. I hope this isn’t a red flag.
Essentially I told him that if he wants to surpass the credit and eviction report, then we can list him as an occupant and not a leasee. Which in that case, we still conduct background checks for all occupants over the age of 18. So I told him that’s something he can discuss with his gf and get back to me. Why do people have to make things far more difficult than they really have to be?

Hello. I’m looking for some validation from people who get it. Or tell me I’m crazy idk.
My good friend who I’ve known for years has a very type A personality, while I’m more go with the flow. At times, our personalities clash. Where she needs tight plans and rigid routines, I desire spontaneity. I also recently was diagnosed with ADHD, which explains some of my time blindness and disorganization. We’ve talked about our differences and I have a lot of compassion and understanding where she’s coming from, that planning and organization make her feel safe.
Thing is, since the diagnoses, I’ve realized that I often feel shame around her for the way that I am. I recognize that there are pros and cons to both our personalities, but it’s become more clear to me that she sees my approach to life as inherently wrong. And, up until this point, I’ve masked to make people like her happy, but it’s cost me dearly. At the same time that I’m learning to appreciate certain aspects of my adhd (presence, the ability to go with the flow, creativity) she has made very clear at times that causes her anxiety.
So it all kind of came to head last week when we were traveling for another friend’s birthday. Months ago, we’d decided to travel together and picked certain flights that worked well for her (she’s extremely frugal and also rigid when it comes to her bedtime, so options were limited.) I was willing to bend to her needs because I can usually plan around any times, and well I’m just used to bending to other people’s needs (working on that). I just was trying to be a good friend and make sure she has someone to travel with. When traveling, my philosophy is generally that you can only control so much, so no need to add extra stress. She very much disagrees.
Where we went was a pretty long travel day, we had a layover both ways. On every flight, to and from, she was extremely stressed about time, insisted on being in the front of the plane to get off quickly so we had to sit separately (unassigned seats). Sure, we don’t need to sit together on the plane, weird, but alright.
On the last flight, same thing, she grabs a seat up front and I go back a few rows. We flew in to where we had a layover, and upon landing, she texted me that she was going to go to the desk and try to get on another, earlier flight. I asked her to ask for me as well, and she said that since I’d checked a bag I probably couldn’t. She was also very annoyed I checked a bag. It’s free, I wanted to bring a full size sunscreen. Also we distinctly did not book that earlier flight because it was too expensive for her.
Ultimately she didn’t get on, but she left me and rushed over to the new gate despite the fact that we had 2 hours to kill.
Am I crazy to feel like she was ready to ditch me? For once in my life I stood up for myself and told her it felt like she didn’t want to travel with me, that I would have picked different flights if I knew that, that I also wanted to get home, and if it was reversed and I was ahead of her on the plane I would not ditch her to get home a few hours earlier. She was totally taken a-back, and couldn’t understand where I’m coming from.
This is not the first time something like this has happened, and I’m always made to feel like I’m just overly sensitive. Much of our friend group bends over backwards to accommodate her need for rigidness, so I’m just feeling misunderstood and invalidated. I’m feeling like her version of managing her anxiety is that everyone adapts to how she goes about the world. Until now, I’ve been willing to accommodate that, but as I unpack the way my brain works, it really hurts and feels like if I’m my authentic self, that causes her anxiety and she will not show up for me as a friend. I guess because I’m now seeing the positives of my ADHD, I resent that she makes me feel shame for it.
Am I being ridiculous? Has anyone else experienced a clash like this with their friends that don’t have ADHD?

questions at the end
hi. i need help here. i designated my father’s fafsa account as the “sign and submit” person, and he works 5/7 days and usually very late so i cant ask whatever the fafsa code gave him. both my parents don’t speak lots of english nor read it so they have me handle these kind of things. i realized that i had full access to my mothers email and decided to make her the sign and submit person thinking little of it. clicking on the invite form i realized she didn’t have an account yet and so i made one. apparently, i accidentally input my birthday instead of hers in the personal info area, AND put a space between her name AND somehow flipped 2 digits of her ssn. so, ofc it comes back as not matched. yet for whatever reason, the form wouldn’t update saying “error cant save”. i called in and received help and was told to use microsoft edge this time and was told to re-fill every piece of info. in doing so, i corrected the birthday but DIDNT put a space between her name and put the right ssn. for whatever reason, this created two limited access accounts that’s been giving me nightmares. fast forward to when my dad accesses his form, it makes him fill out a “parent spouse/partner” area. due to the two limited access account not matching, i had to call in yet again and was notified of this mistake. however, before the rep could give me the account info, i was told my mother had to be on the line which couldn’t work because she also works very late and works 6/7 days. finally, after being told she had a day off, i called in and was told by a kinder rep that one of the limited access account had the right ssn and bday just not the space between the name. i then had to get a help desk rep to basically re-submit a verification request which allowed me to put the space between her name. i’m praying that this finally lets me submit everything and be done with the fafsa.
tldr; put in wrong info twice resulting in two limited access accounts, one wrong/one right.
question 1: is the help desk the only ones able to deactivate an account.
question 2: i emailed my school saying i might not make the deadline in time, and they said i already submitted it in april so it’ll still count before the deadline. does that mean whatever changes i make are just “updates” and not necessarily submitting a new form after the deadline?
warning: pls double check all your info before hitting any “confirm” button so you don’t have to suffer thru this:)

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I'm struggling with a situation right now and I just need advice and someone to tell me if I'm being controlling. A little background, my bf [M19] and [F18] have been together for 8 months(we are long distance). He mostly had female friends and I get along with them for the most part. There is one friend [F19] who is drop dead gorgeous. Naturally I was a bit jealous of her. He reassured me and told me that he only saw her as a friend. They go to the gym together and sometimes go to lunch together.
A fight happened a week ago when he told me that he had saw a picture of her on instagram and got horny so he got off and came to her picture. I was furious, he told me that he started daydreaming about her and thinking what it could've been like if he never met me. He told me that he never checked her out or had sexual thoughts when he was with her, but he was attracted to her. We talked it out and mostly got over it. Then a few days ago, she asked if she could come to his house so they could go in his hot tub together. He asked me and I said I wasn't comfortable with them being in a hot tub alone together. He was mildly upset but told her that I wasn't comfortable with it. Then the next day he asked if I was comfortable with them going to lunch together, I said yes, as long as they didn't go to his house(they have done this in the past). This time he was upset, it was a big argument and he didn't think I had the right to want her in his house. He said that I was controlling and out of line for expecting this.
We have talked about it before and he told me he finds all of him female friends attractive and would sleep with them if he was single. So after this whole thing, I wanted to make a boundary where he wasn't alone with any of them in an intimate setting like a hot tub or even dinner one on one. I do not expect him to stop hanging out with his friends, even one on one. There are just some places where I think it should only be him and I one on one. Or him and a group of his friends. We are not agreeing on this issue and I'm not sure how to explain it to him.
I am open to all feedback. Please tell me if I'm being controlling. Thank you!
TL;DR: I'm in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend of 8 months. He has mostly female friends, including one he is sexually attracted to. He recently admitted to fantasizing about her, which upset me. I feel uncomfortable with them spending time alone in intimate settings like his house or a hot tub. I don’t want to stop him from seeing his friends, but I want to set boundaries on being alone with them in certain situations. He thinks I’m being controlling. Am I being unreasonable? Looking for advice.

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

So, I applied to be a loadeunloader at UPS, the job app website says "job offer in minutes" So I go through the motions, it spits out a job offer, I do the background check, I9, and W4 and set up my orientation, only to have a recruiter call me and say my background check is not back yet so we need to push it back, so we do, I get another call saying it's not back yet still and they will call me to set up an orientation - Last week, I get the call stating my background check was done and it was finally time for me to come onboard with UPS. Fast forward to today, I go out to do my orientation only to discover when I got there that it in fact was NOT an orientation it was just an interview, is this common UPS practice?
Edit for spelling error

I need some advice regarding a financial background check required for my new job.
All my official documents (electoral roll, bank, HMRC, etc.) are registered at my parents' home, my permanent address, even when I was at university. After uni, I moved in with my brother and his girlfriend for a year before starting my master’s and then the new job. We've moved twice due to lease changes. While living with them, I updated my HMRC and one bank account to my current address to match work records. I’m not on the lease, council tax, or electoral roll at my brother’s address, but I do pay rent to him.
For my job's financial check, I need to provide address history. I’m concerned about ensuring the credit report matches the details I provide. I made an Experian account, listing my current address for the past three years, which shows my parents' address as my permanent one and my current address with my brother. This is because I gave them this information so that they can’t generate a report. No linked addresses appeared. Not even my parents and I do have a credit card issues at my parents address as it’s my permanent address.
I haven't pulled reports from the other credit agencies yet. Should I only list my parents' address? What if they ask for proof? The only documents I have with my current address are bank statements.
By the time the background checks are done, I’ll have moved back with my parents for 6-8 months.
What should I include in my address history to avoid issues, and what proof should I provide?

Hi everyone,
I have a suziki swift, I believe it is a 2020 model and it is relatively new. Where i work, we have these absolutely dealy speedbumps that unless you go 2 mph over you get air time. They are somehow within the legal limits as we have had to check multiple times because of the amount of people who come in complaining that their exhaust pipe has come off going over the speedbumps. I wish I was exaggerating about this but it is an almost weekly occurrence.
Anyway my car is making squeaking noises as it drives. It has been suggested to me that this is the suspension going, and obviously with the amount of pot holes around, this does not help. Off point but my mate measured a pot hole on a main road, that has a speed limit of 60, and the pot hole was 48 cm deep 😭.
I was wondering whether this squeaking could be due to something other than the suspension. it is mainly just the back of the car that squeakes, but as we all know, replacing the suspension on the car is mega money, so was just hoping if anyone knew or thought it could be anything else.
Thank you!