I once had a “friend” who was a little self-centered. He insisted the gang always have our hangouts at his place, so he wouldn’t have to waste his precious time traveling. He didn’t show gratitude for this perk by being a good host, either.

There was no couch for anyone to crash on. One time, he said:

Selfish Guy: “Why do I need a couch when I live alone?”

Us: “Uh… because you beg everyone you know to come and drink with you a couple of nights a week?”

He also never lifted a finger to help with the commute he was imposing on the rest of us. His best friend, who lived something like sixty or eighty blocks away and was always broke and exhausted from juggling school and being a caretaker for a sick relative, had to take a taxi home, being unfit to drive. Then, the next day, he’d have to take a bus or taxi all the way back to pick up his car. I thought if [Selfish Guy] was insisting the party always be at his place, he could have taken a small share of the hassle by picking up [Friend] to save him the enormous cab fare, but he said he was too comfy to go out. I suggested we meet at [Friend]’s home next time since he had the least time, money, and energy to spare of any of us, so if anyone deserved to skip traveling it was him, but [Selfish Guy] wouldn’t hear of it. It was “way too far” for him to go! Note that it was the same distance he always asked [Friend] to travel.

You get the picture. And yes, I did eventually smarten up and stop hanging out with him.

But my story is about the one time this spoiled brat didn’t get his way.

[Selfish Guy]’s condo had a quirk where the kitchen faucet was connected opposite to normal. The hot was cold and the cold was hot. Several times per hangout session, one of us guests would go to get a drink of water, and as you do, would turn on the cold, let it flow a good while, and then put a hand in the flow to check if it had reached maximum coldness. Due to the backward handles, this would result in us sticking our hands in extremely hot water! I suggested he fix it, but he said:

Selfish Guy: “I’m used to it, so it doesn’t happen to me. Why would I care when I’m not the one getting scalded?”

I peeked under the sink one time and found out why the installer had done it this way: the hose to one side was too short to reach the other side. So, on my next visit, I had a hose of appropriate length and some wrenches hidden in my bag. When [Selfish Guy] went to use the toilet, I did the repair in an instant.

Later that night, [Selfish Guy] got thirsty and went to the sink. He let the tap run a while, then put his hand in the flow… and screamed in pain as the unexpected hot water burnt his hand!

Everyone there just got a look of blissful contentment. Why should we care when we weren’t the ones getting scalded?

I’m the author of this story and [Coworker] is at it again. I came into work to see small cellophane bags of chocolate eggs hanging on people’s office doors and on their desks. Notably, there wasn’t one on my desk.

An hour in, [Coworker] appeared.

Coworker: “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t give you any Easter eggs. They’re really only for Christians.”

Me: “Ah, so you’re really representing Christian charity.”

[Coworker] bristled at that.

Coworker: “I just don’t think people like you deserve to celebrate along with us.”

Me: “Okay. Wow. But how about those guys?”

I pointed over at a couple of coworkers munching away on their chocolate.

Coworker: “Of course, they should get chocolate! They have God in their hearts!”

Me: “Mmm, no, they don’t.”

Coworker: “Yes, they do! They pray. They go to church.”

Me: “Well, they go to temple. They’re Buddhist.”

Coworker: “Whatever. At least they follow God’s teachings.”

Me: “They really don’t. They reach for enlightenment; there are no gods in Buddhism.”

Coworker: “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Me: “Okay, well, enjoy your Easter weekend.”

Coworker: “I will!”

She angrily stormed away.

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Music Is Music, My Friend

I am selling two nightstands/end tables on a popular social media networking site, on their buy and sell section. In the price section, I put $50 (to increase interest), and in the description, along with the explanation of the condition of the tables, I say they are $50 each. I get a couple of people sending offers for both or for one, and then, one potential buyer messages me and asks if I would deliver. Usually, I don’t, but I am feeling nice, and they are located just a few minutes’ drive away from where I will be working tomorrow, so I agree and set a time with her.

The next day, I finish my job and message the buyer, telling her that I will be there in ten minutes, right on the time we’d decided yesterday. No response. I pull up to the apartment building and message her that I’m there, and she still doesn’t respond. I go up to the buzzer, and someone answers!

Buyer: “Oh, okay. Give me five minutes.”

My level of frustration rises, since we set the time yesterday, and I’m being nice enough to drive there. In the meantime, I decide to grab one of the tables and bring it to the door. When I get there, a guy is waving around a $100 bill and asks me if I have change. Confused, I confirm that he’s there for the tables (I guess he’s living with the buyer), but I say that the tables are $50 each. He tells me that the buyer is in the shower and he needs to go check with her. Sure enough, when he comes back out, he tells me that she isn’t interested.

Me: “The listing said $50 each!”

I grabbed the table and stormed off to the car. I hate people sometimes.

I am a photographer who happens to be female. I am contracted out by a company to different dealerships to take pictures of vehicles for sale for their online inventory. I’ve gotten my fair share of comments from various men out in the lots — most commonly, “Need a model?” Gag!

At one dealership, I notice I am sometimes approached by one salesman in particular. 

One day, I am working on photographing the exterior of a vehicle, and I see that salesman driving a car, which he eventually drives past me. When he sees me, he excitedly takes out his iPhone and holds it up, pretending to take a picture. Hilarious.

Later on, I am taking pictures of the interior of a vehicle when I am startled by a knock on the window. When I look up, surprise, surprise, it’s him. He’s holding up his iPhone again, and it’s pressed against the car window. I roll my window down a little and he says something along the lines of, “Thanks for the lesson!” Again, incredibly funny. I make a sort of forced chuckle that sounds so fake I can hardly convince myself.

A couple of weeks later, I am back working at the dealership. I am shooting the outside of a vehicle when the same salesman shows up. I barely see him out of the corner of my eye, and my back is toward him since I am walking toward the vehicle to open the door to access a control inside. He continues walking toward me, and the vehicle, saying, “Oh, wait a minute!” in a “funny” way, with his iPhone out again.

I mostly ignore him and open the door. When he passes by me, he sees that I’m not amused, and says, “I can tell you’re sick of me. I’ll leave you alone.”

Riiight. Dude, you don’t get to try and guilt me into not being amused by your stupid comments. I’m just trying to work in peace, and it’s honestly so annoying — and frankly disrespectful — to be distracted. Plus, how’d he feel if I walked by if he was with customers and made comments? My time is no less valuable than his!

I place an order online for a salad and wrap place. The earliest option is for twenty minutes later, but I go in early anyway in case they are also early. I walk straight into the “online pickup” area. An employee barely glances up since they are clearly busy making and boxing up orders.

The people who come in around the same time as me, but who order normally at the counter, start picking up their food as the employees call out that orders are ready. I figure they will call mine when it’s ready, so I continue to wait patiently. The rush finishes fifteen minutes after I came in, and I am the only one left in the restaurant. Finally, a different employee from the one I saw making food calls out to me.

Employee: “Are you picking something up?”

Me: “Yeah, an online order for [My Name].”

The employee reaches for an already wrapped-up box.

Employee: “Oh!”

Me: “Was it ready that whole time?!”

Employee: “Yes, just say something next time!”

I almost replied that no one had even acknowledged me when I came right to the pickup area, and that I didn’t want to bother the busy employee, so maybe this is a NAR!