user: In this task you are given an anecdote, which recount a complex ethical situation. The question you are given is, has the author of the anecdote acted ethically? answer this question with "RIGHT" or "WRONG".

Input: Consider Input:      I have an ex-friend that says she has a “diagnosed phobia of vomit”. For the purpose of this story, we’ll call her X. Some of my friends and I were talking in a group chat, and one of my friends (let’s call her Y) started sending very fake looking stock photos of people vomiting for some reason. Jokingly, I said “you should send those to X”. My friend actually sent them to her, and X called back sobbing and threatening to call the cops. 
     Y was understandably upset that I told her to send them, because I convinced her to send the photos and then she had to deal with X and her reaction. I thought Y knew about her phobia, and therefore wouldn’t send them to avoid triggering her. Y didn’t know, and sent her the photos because I told her to. I didn’t stop Y from sending the photos, but I didn’t really have much of a chance to as it was too late when I learned that she had actually sent them. The photos were very cartoonish and fake-looking, and I am having trouble believing that it would evoke such a response in her. X is known to overreact to everything and seek for attention. 
     The next day, I had a serious allergic reaction while I was running, and I started to go into anaphylactic shock. I had the worst itching of my life, my throat started to close up, I experienced the worse stomach cramps I’ve ever had, threw up multiple times, nearly shit myself, and I literally couldn’t walk so I had to be picked up in a truck by a park ranger and driven to the trail entrance so the ambulance could take me to the hospital. If it wasn’t for the two friends I had helping me and calling the park ranger, I could have died. The experience was traumatic for me and it took me a while to get over it. 
     I was still recovering from the physical symptoms of the allergic reaction when I heard X went around telling people that “going into anaphylactic shock was karma for what I did to her”. I can’t believe she thinks I deserve that for jokingly telling a friend to send her badly faked pictures of someone throwing up. I understand that phobias can be serious, but knowing her I feel like she overreacted and exaggerated her phobia for attention because that’s just the type of person she is. 
     Am I the asshole for telling Y to send those photos, even though I wasn’t serious? Am I justified in being upset at what X said, or did I deserve anaphylactic shock?
     TL;DR: I used to be friends with someone who has a vomit phobia. As a joke, I tell one of my other friends to send her some obviously fake photos of people vomiting. She goes hysterical, cries and threatens to call the police. The next day, I nearly die from an allergic reaction and she tells people that I deserved it for what I did to her. 

Output: WRONG


Input: Consider Input: So, I need to give some background. 
I have a 4 year old son. 
His dad and I were married until he was 3. His dad left me suddenly for another woman. They now live together and have a baby of their own. While we were together, his dad worked nights and I worked days as neither of us wanted to put our son in daycare and wanted to be around him as much as possible. It worked out well for us. 
Now we split custody 50/50. For one, because I still think he’s a good dad and want him involved with our son, obviously. 
And for two, because I have to work a lot more now to be able to afford living on my own and supporting myself and my son while paying rent/car/bills. My ex and I have similar incomes so neither of us pay child support, though he recently got a new job and makes significantly more than I do, I believe. 

Anyway, him and his girlfriend are pushing for our son to be in preschool, which I agree would be good for him. 
However, I’m doing this by myself while working full time and going to school full time. Not only do I not have the time to work with preschool schedules (middle of the day Tues&amp;Thurs) which are the same days I have class, but I also don’t want to sacrifice the time I have with my son right now. (Not to say preschool isn’t important I just already miss him due to the 50/50 schedule, work, and college)
I completely acknowledge those might be selfish reasons, but I seriously don’t know how I would bring/pick him up to preschool while I’m working... I work an hour away. My family helps watch him while I work but I bring him to them, as my parents don’t drive. So they couldn’t help me with this. 

My thoughts are he will be in kindergarten this fall already. I will be done with school then. My schedule will be a lot more open, I should be able to work less as I’ll be making more, and can better work with the school schedule. 
I’ve spoken to his dad about my concerns/issues, and he says I’m being a bad parent and how could I not want our son in preschool? I just don’t know how I would do it...

So AITA?

Output: RIGHT


Input: Consider Input: Some context: I am not handicapped. However, the location (a gas station) is somewhere I go daily (and, that I used to work at a couple years ago), so I know that, despite it being a college town, there are quite a few regulars who are... quite old, and might need the spot. Also all conversations are as best as I can remember it. There was more interactions than just this, but for the most part it was repeating the same beats. Capitalized words are raised voices.  


I am pulling into the gas station behind another car. The car ahead of me was turning, as the only spot left open by the doors was the handicapped parking space (he would go on to park at a pump, as did I. There were still 3 open when I walked inside). However, he was forced to slam on his brakes as a car zipped in front of him and into the handicapped parking space. It wasn't an illegal move, nor was she speeding through the parking lot... but it was definitely rude.  


Whatever. Not a big deal.  


I park at a pump and head inside. While I go in, I notice that the rude car didn't have a handicapped plate. I double checked that she had indeed pulled into the handicapped parking space before peeking into the car to see if there was a hanging handicapped sign on the rear-view mirror (my late grandma would use one when she went places with my mom) and also notice that the girl in the car seems to be a peppy young thing couldn't be older than 30, but was probably in her 20s (I'm a 28 yo man, and she looked young to me). I shake my head at this point, disappointed that someone was taking a spot at a semi-busy gas station for a handicapped person, when it seemed there was nothing wrong with her.   


I figure it's none of my business and head inside. As I reach for the door, I see "Deb" the manager, heading out. I hold the door open for her. We exchanged pleasantries and she went on her way, stating that she was out for the night.  


So, once inside, while I was checking my pockets (I forget my card a lot, so I was making sure I actually had it before I got my purchases). At that point, I felt a pair of spindly arms wrap around me from behind, with painted fingers laced around my chest. The hugger (lets call her Kate, for simplicity) is holding their head against my back. I tense up and state loud enough for the entire store to hear:  


ME: "I don't know who you are. Get the fuck off of me."  


She complies, stating something about how I should smile more. Because I look like I'm always pissed. (more context: I'm generally seen as a pretty happy guy. I talk jovially with the employees and customers alike. I also have a penchant for having full on conversations with people that I meet at this station). I respond:  


ME: "Yeah, normally I get pretty pissed when morons steal handicapped parking spaces."  
KATE: "Are you a cop?"  
ME: "No. I'm just not an asshole."  
KATE: "So, do you see anyone who needs it, huh?"  
ME: "Nope. But that doesn't mean there wont-"  
KATE: "Then whats the problem? There was nowhere else to park!"  
ME: "I can see THREE PARKINGS PLACES out ther-!"  
KATE: "THERE'S NOWHERE TO PARK!" 

ME: "THERE ARE PARKING SPACES, if you aren't a BITCH!"  


At this point, the cashier (let's call her Meg) informs me that if I keep this up, I would be asked to leave. At this point, Kate has a shit-eating grin on her face.  


Obviously, I decide it's not worth being kicked out of a place where I'm known by a first name basis... so I shut my mouth. I get my items, but in the meantime, I hear Kate talking to Meg. She's clearly talking loud enough so I can hear it from where I'm at.  


KATE: "What do you think about all this?"  
MEG: \*incomprehensible from where I was\*  
KATE: "That guy's such a fucking ASSHOLE."  


She brushes past me, with a smug look on her face, after she pays (there was one person in line between us, at this time).  


I figure this is all over. Fine. Whatever.  


But then, as I'm paying, I hear something from the doorway, turning to see that Kate was standing in the open door, letting in all the cold air as she berated me:  


KATE: "You fucking asshole!"  
KATE: "I bet you got a tiny dick!"  
KATE: "You fucking dickless asshole!"  


Etc...  


I pay for my 52 oz soda and start towards the door. I start to walk towards my car, when I have an idea:  


I can either go around the passenger side of her car, or the driver's side. I decide... Driver's side.  


ME: "Excuse me, I need to get to my car."  
KATE: "What?"  
ME: "I'm want to get to my car. And there's no other path to get there."  
KATE: "What's your problem, asshole?"  
ME: "Nothing, just that I have to talk to a stupid cunt."  
KATE: "Oh, yeah, I'm a  cunt. A great big cunt."  
KATE: "I have a great big vagina that just spills out of my pants  
*(at this point, Kate is making hand gestures, showing how big her vagina is, and how it flows from her jeans)*  
ME: "It shows. It REALLY does!"  


I continue to brush past her to get to my car and she leans into me, spilling my soda over both of us, leaving about only half of the soda in the cup, with a crack down one side. At this point, Kate is stunned. She has no words. I continue walking to my car when I hear the guttural yelp of someone desperately throwing something. When the smell of carmel, cream and gas station coffee hits me, I realize that the entire back of my coat is covered in her disgusting half-coffee.  


I turn on my heel, half of a soda still in my hands. I consider myself an expert on aiming drinks, mainly due to the fact that I end up with a lot of half-finished drinks, which I tend to toss in an arc, as opposed to making a big puddle. So, I took aim and returned fire, covering the front of her shirt in even more soda than had been spilled before.  


Soaking wet (and wanting to prove to her that I'm a better person than her) I threw my empty cup away, got in my car, and tried to leave. She was already on my bumper, fumbling with her phone, trying to record me. I yell for her to get out of my way, as I'm trying to leave. I rev my engine, which makes her back off a little, then use the gap to zip past her and around the other side of the pumps and out the exit of the gas station.  


I later learned that she had called the cops on me. That the cops had watched video of the altercation, but nothing else. It's been a week and I have yet to hear from the cops (my plate would have DEFINITELY been on camera, assuming they hadn't moved them since I worked there.), and I was informed by Deb, the manager from before, that none of the cops were told my name. And when I relayed the full story, Deb was trying hard to hold back a laugh.  


I later learned that I had distressed Meg with the confrontation in the store, as she wasn't sure how to handle the situation. She was alone at the store, at the time, and both of us (apparently) were regulars. It had apparently caused her to break down a bit, as I was informed that after the incident, Meg was in tears.  


So, I ask: Am I the Asshole?



assistant: Output: WRONG