Funny Experience Novels & Stories

“You put it on every day before the uniform. But some things manage to pierce through.” That was when they discovered a peculiar, dark humor that only those who flirt with danger every day can cultivate. They started laughing at things that would horrify an ordinary civilian. Vick told him about a thief who tried to escape by jumping into a trash can and got stuck. Devon laughed about a situation where an angry cat attacked the crew during a minor kitchen fire, making it more dangerous than the flames themselves. They laughed not because the situations were funny, but because the absurdity was a necessary release valve. It was a secret language of survivors.

he told me, and I burst into laughter. "With this face? Isn't that hilarious?" I wondered. "What's so funny, bro?" he asked, surprised. I got up, cleaned my face with my palms, and said, "Everything's funny – the accident, seven years in a coma, and now making a public appearance with this face." "You aren't the first to have met this fate," he said. "Well, I know the Frankenstein monster did," I replied. "I'm not talking about movies," he snapped. "That's my favorite movie," I said.

“I remember! He made you all clean the stables for a month!” The door opened, and Ansre walked in. He stopped as he entered inside and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was staring at me, at my laughing face. I wiped a tear from my eye and noded at him. “Andre. Come in. We are just remembering the Great Mud Ditch disaster of our youth.” Andre walked over, with a small hesitant smile on his face. “Let me in on the joke. I need a good story.” I recounted it again, and Andre laughed too, it sounded genuine. Good. Normal.

I love when they say that. Everyone is going around the room saying the same boring crap about how much they've enjoyed working in blah blah company working on the same whatever project for x number of years. And their personal comment is usually something like "I enjoy reading technical journals." So when they get to me, I usually do something like this: "My name is Jake. I worked for Vandalay Industries for 5 years as a latex salesman, followed by brief forays into architecture and marine biology before becoming a programmer." About 90% of the time no one is paying attention as I am saying this stuff, but that 10% of the time, it's just magic and someone will just laugh out loud.

“You’re not the socializing type, so tell us everything. Any fun stories?” I forced a big smile. “It was fine. Really great, actually. I think this was my best semester ever.” Mom leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Anything exciting happen? Any new experiences you want to share?” I almost laughed out loud. *Yeah, Mom, I got gangbanged by three guys in front of a crowd and then let my best friend’s dad tie me up and destroy me with sex machines until I cried from cumming.* Instead I just shrugged and said, “Nah, nothing special. Just normal college stuff, classes, studying, you know.”

Tomorrow, I will take on a new journey to healing vile, a long excruciating process that I have to go through. Seated by the logs around a dancing laser light that mimics that of a bonfire, we laugh and listen to funny stories that transpired in the four years of our stay at school. My red cup is empty. Yes, I tried to drink beer not from a bottle this time, and I badly needed a refill. I stood up from the circle, asking Mel and Candice if they needed a refill as well, but they shook their heads, still indulging in the pranks we did on April fool’s day last year.

And yet, in the grand scheme of things, perhaps it was a reminder that laughter and levity can be found in the most unexpected of places, even in the midst of awkward misunderstandings and embarrassing moments. As she shared her story with her friend, Rachel couldn't help but marvel at the quirks of human nature, the way in which a single sound could set off a chain reaction of reactions and emotions. And though the evening had been fraught with awkwardness and discomfort, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the laughter and camaraderie that had ultimately emerged from the chaos.

I said something completely foolish without even thinking to deliberately ruin the moment. "I guess my only core memory involving water is my uncle deciding to play a 'drown, laugh, and repeat' in the pool when I was seven. He'd drown me, pull me out just in time whenever I was on the brink of death, laughing like it was all a big joke, only to dunk me under again. Suffocating, both literally and metaphorically," I let out a big laugh, "But hey, what doesn't kill you makes for one hell of a story," words tumbled out as I tried to lighten the mood.

“You are funny.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I am also traumatized. I almost got eaten by wolves. I fell off a cliff. I ran through ghost trees. I saw dead people walking like they were on a normal stroll. And now I am talking to a naked stranger. So yes. I am funny. It is a coping mechanism.” She laughed. Actually laughed. Which annoyed me. “You think this is funny?” I demanded. “Yes.” “This is not funny. This is the worst day of my life.”

I laughed harder as I found the situation quite funny. "Really, it wasn't close to funny when it happened. I didn't even know whether to cry or laugh." She said laughing harder. As the bitter experience had passed, it was now okay to laugh about it. Had it been the incident was still fresh, we dare not laugh about it. We'd probably be crying or something. Because, in reality, it was painful. "I'm sorry you had to encounter that but at least you got a hug" I said giving her a knowing look as I playfully teased her