There was a “salsa party” at a community center near me, and I thought, “Aw, h*** yeah! Free chips and salsa!”

I spent all day impatiently waiting for the crunchy goodness that was going to be chips and salsa while I’d maybe chat it up with new faces.

I came to find out as I arrived people that people were salsa dancing and no chips and salsa were waiting for me.

That is all. Pure disappointment.

When I first left home to go to university, my parents co-signed a mortgage for me on an apartment-style condominium in a small Canadian city. This was twenty years ago, so it came in at a whopping $52,000. They thought that this was a much better and more economical choice than trying to find an apartment and deal with landlords. I loved the idea and moved into my new home.

The building was almost entirely populated by the sixty-five-and-over crowd. It was small and only had twenty-four units split into halves. I had a basement condo. It was a nice place, nothing fancy, but amazing for a student. I was young (nineteen) but I was quiet, kept to myself, and didn’t do the whole party thing.

I got along with most of my neighbors, and I’d help them out by moving heavy things or carrying groceries upstairs. I was acutely aware of the age gap and the general image of a university student, so I made sure to be just an all-around great guy to avoid conflict.

The one person I could never see eye to eye with was my upstairs neighbor. For a seventy-year-old woman who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, she walked like a d***ed elephant. She’d have gospel music on her TV at max volume at 5:00 am on Sundays, and she’d make remarks about “that d*** kid” whenever something was left out of place. She even went so far as to accuse me of breaking into her car and making a police statement saying she saw me do it. Unfortunately for her, I was out of the country on an internship at the time, but still she persisted in being a pain in my a**. I tried to approach her about the TV issue, and her response was to make sure that it was no longer just Sundays. After a couple of years of attempted diplomacy, it was clear that nothing I did would make things better.

Others in the building probably knew [Upstairs Neighbor] had it out for me, but why would this adorable little old lady try to lie and get me thrown out of the building by the condo board? (She tried at least eleven times while I lived there.)

Seven years into my time living there, I was at my job with an ambulance service just north of the city. I got called to a shooting; a guy shot his neighbor in a land dispute. The neighbor survived, but there was, of course, going to be a police investigation. The investigating officers called me to get a statement and offered to just come over to do it rather than have me travel. One of them was a constable I’d worked with quite a bit, so I said sure. We set a time for about an hour after I got home from work.

I was just getting out of the shower when they buzzed to get into the building. I hit the door buzzer, let them know I’d be ready in a second, and quickly grabbed some pants and a shirt. I heard them come in and then walk upstairs. As I was trying to throw on clothes, I heard them knock… on [Upstairs Neighbor]’s door. They introduced themselves as being from the RCMP [Royal Canadian Mounted Police] Major Crimes division and said they were looking for me.

Balls.

Upstairs Neighbor: “Oh, he lives downstairs. What do you want with him?”

Constable: “Thank you. We can’t say why we want to speak with him; it’s an active investigation.”

My heart sank… but then, I had a thought.

It only took about fifteen minutes to do my statement, and they went on their way.

And then the fun began. I knew the rumour mill would be starting. [Upstairs Neighbor] would tell everyone who would listen that Major Crimes had been looking for me and that I must be some sort of criminal. I decided to see where this went.

Pretty soon, I was getting side-eye in the hallway and neighbors were steering clear of me, so I knew she’d been talking. Apparently, I’d been arrested for robbery and kidnapping and must be out on bail, according to [Upstairs Neighbor].

I found this out when one of my neighbors who was on the condo board showed up with a letter demanding an explanation and threats to have me kicked out. I asked him what this was all about.

Condo Board Neighbor: “[Upstairs Neighbor] sent us a letter about what happened, and we had to have an emergency board meeting because people don’t feel safe with you here.”

Me: “Per the by-laws of the condo board, before any action can be taken, I can request a meeting to review and provide a defense.”

[Upstairs Neighbor] was on the board, so I knew she’d be there. They set a date for a week from then, but I was given a caution that it didn’t look good for me and that I would have to do a lot of explaining.

The meeting day came. [Upstairs Neighbor] was sitting smugly looking at me, and the other board members were giving me dirty looks.

Board President: “What do you have to say in your defence?”

I stood and quietly distributed a letter on RCMP letterhead, signed by the regional superintendent.

Letter: “Mr. [My Name] is not under suspicion of any crimes, past or current, and has not been arrested, detained, or questioned as a suspect in any criminal matter. His duties as a paramedic will often require him to make statements with regard to ongoing investigations, and in this instance on [date], investigators went to obtain a statement about an ongoing investigation in which he was professionally involved. At no time did the members discuss, disclose, or in any way indicate that he had any involvement in any wrongdoings. I am deeply saddened by the necessity of this letter, and we will be reopening an investigation into a previous incident regarding false statements made against him.”

I could tell when people read and understood it. The dirty looks shifted from me to [Upstairs Neighbor].

Upstairs Neighbor: “This is a forgery! I witnessed [My Name] being led off in handcuffs! You have to believe me!”

It didn’t help her. I stood and addressed the board and outlined the years of abuse and harassment, including the false accusation of breaking into a vehicle.

Me: “On the advice of my lawyer, I will not discuss the matter further with any member of the board; [Upstairs Neighbor] being a part of the board and using her position for the purposes of harassment opens the board as a whole to litigation, and I am still weighing my options.”

The next day, I had a knock on my door.

Board President: “[Upstairs Neighbor] has been removed from the board. She has been given a warning about her conduct, and any further harassment could result in proceedings to have her removed from the building.”

She also had a visit from the police with a summons for providing a false statement and obstructing a peace officer. She had to attend court. She pled guilty to both charges, and she was given a suspended sentence and a one-year condition not to harass, threaten, or intentionally inconvenience me in any way. If she abided by her conditions, she would receive an absolute discharge (meaning it would be removed from her record, like it never happened).

I moved to another province before her year was up, but for a brief period of time, I actually got to sleep in on Sunday mornings.

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I had a mother who was both physically and psychologically abusive–her favorite “hobby” was arguing with people (which she’s done with just about everyone under the sun) and she would consistently pick fights with me as a teenager and force me to argue with her for hours–even when I would lose it and flip out screaming and throwing things. Because of this, I had a difficult time standing up for myself as a young adult and would go through great lengths to avoid conflicts with people. (I couldn’t even confront a 7 year old girl for constantly making insulting remarks at me everytime she saw me). If I was seriously angry at someone, my remedy would be to simply give them the silent treatment rather than say, “I didn’t appreciate it when you….”

At work, I received an email from a co-worker of mine who, being from Italy, was well known for being blunt, direct, and sometimes boistrous in her confrontations (customers included!). The email, in summary, unfairly accused me of being too careless, complacent, and unwilling to think outside the box in terms of problem solving. It made me extremely angry, but I did not respond. I did divulge the details of the email to a fellow co-worker and told her how upset I was to be so unfairly branded as lazy, more or less.

The following morning, the Italian co-worker approached my desk:

Co-Worker: I understand you have a problem with me you’d like to discuss.

Me: (Glaring at her and then ignoring her)

Co Worker: *knocking on my desk* Excuse me. I understand you have a problem with me you’d like to discuss.

Me: *continuing working*

Co-worker: Yeah, my husband tried the silent treatment with me, too. It didn’t get him anywhere, either.

Me: (silence)

Co-Worker: Hey, (name)? I don’t start my shift until this evening. I literally have all day. So let’s deal with the problem. *pulling up a chair*

Me: I don’t want to talk to you!

Co-Worker: I guessed that already.

Me: *pretending to be busy*

Co-Worker: (TV celebrity) had signs of cancer but ignored it until it turned into Stage 4 cancer. By the time he went for medical treatment, it was too late and he died.

Me: What does that have to do with anything?

Co-Worker: Fires often don’t burn out by themselves unless you put them out.

Me: ALRIGHT ALREADY! *tossing my pen* You seriously pissed me off when you said etc etc etc in your email!

And we ended up discussing how we felt about each other’s performance in the office.

Ironically, it was this Italian woman that taught me the importance of speaking up for one’s self and not being afraid to engage in a (civil and professional) conflict if someone has crossed your boundaries.

A new snarky co-worker came weeks later, grabbed a piece of training paper I was reviewing and walked away saying “Been looking all over for this! I need this! If you don’t know the protocol by heart by now, take your sorry a– home!”

Me: *seething quietly*

Italian Co-Worker: Don’t let him get away with that.

Me: It’s okay, I’ll talk to HR–

Co-Worker: Don’t let him get away with that. *pushing me in his direction and pointing at him* HR is not your mouth!

Me: *going up to him* Excuse me, I don’t know who you think you are or who you think you’re talking to but…!!!

That was about 10 years ago, and to this day, I will always credit that Italian girl for helping me find my voice and showing me how to push back on problems that approach me!

I’m picking my nonbinary 13-year-old up from middle school and they’re telling me about their day:

My kid: This popular 7th grade girl was trying to bully me today about being a stupid 6th grader who can’t figure out if I’m a girl or a boy. I was like “Ma’am, I’m in 8th grade. I’m just short.”

me: That’s… wait, you called a 7th grader “Ma’am?”

My kid: Yeah, I do that now. Really throws ‘em off! *giant grin*

I only wish I’d had half my kid’s confidence when I was their age!

What started as a coworker misshearing me, turned into an inside joke of me hooking up with a celebrity on a work Christmas event.

We would reference it occasionally, in a very sarcastic or throw away way.
So when I overheard a new starter ask about it, I chuckled to myself, he was talking to a woman who had been here a while, so i figured she would set him straight.

The conversation went something like:

New hire: is it true someone here snogged (famous celebrity)?

Woman: yes, I was there. It was shocking!

Me: err, where you working here when that happened?

Woman: yes, I must have because I remember it vividly.

Me: I’m not so sure, I think it was the year before ….

Woman: (ignoring me) you know she was supposed to be married, and then tried it on with me!

New hire: no way!

Me: i think you might be remember it differently.

Woman: shut up (my name) just because no one is interested in you!

(OK that wasn’t fair, I had been single a while. But never been rude or made any comment about her before.)

Me: actually, the story you supposedly know so much about. Is me. I was the one snogging the celebrity. Apart from it didn’t happen. Something you would know if you was there.

Woman: oh well, maybe I’m thinking of another time

New hire: someone else hooked up with (celebrity) in this tiny town?

Woman: well, no but. I’ve got to go.

(I explained everything to the new hire and welcomed them to the company. The other woman, she was very careful about spreading lies around the office after then.)