Not Built Like A Tank, But Can Carry One

(In my dorm, there is a filtered water machine in the basement. I frequently use it to fill my 10-gallon fish tank. I’m a 5’6″ 120 lb female, but I work out a lot and I’m able to lift my own body weight. When my fish tank is full, it weighs about 100 lbs. I bring my fish tank downstairs and fill it up, and walk the long hallway carrying the heavy tank, when a guy catches up to me.)

Guy: “Hey, do you need any help with that? It looks really heavy!”

Me: “Oh, no, thanks. It’s really not that bad.”

Guy: “No, really. I can carry that. Don’t want you to get hurt!”

Me: “Really, I’m fine. I fill this thing up all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

Guy: “Come on! You have a guy offering you help!”

Me: “I don’t need any help from you.”

(The elevator comes.)

Me: “Do you mind hitting six? Thanks.”

Guy: “Here, let me take that.”

(He grabs the tank from my arms, scraping them with the corners, leaving bruises.)

Me: “… Dude! Seriously?!”

Guy: “D***! This is heavy! Oh, no!”

(Suddenly, he loses his grip and drops my fish tank. Of course, it’s glass, so it shatters. Thankfully, we both only had minor cuts from the glass, which flew everywhere. The elevator is soaked, and I could see water running into the crack below the door and hear it dripping down the shaft. The door opens on his floor a few seconds later.)

Guy: “You should have warned me it was so heavy! Pretty girls like you who expect men to do EVERYTHING for you PISS ME OFF! Now I’m all cut up thanks to you! UGH!” *storms out of the elevator*

(I called maintenance and helped them clean it up. I found out that guy lived on my boyfriend’s floor, and we insisted that he pay for a new tank. He eventually gave in and got me a five-gallon tank, telling me, ‘This is will be easier for you to carry. Maybe you won’t drop it this time.’ I had to stop my boyfriend from punching him.)