I’ve been playing video games since I was a little girl and will certainly play until my last breath. Many of my friends are into video games, too, and when I was in college, I was lucky to have very nice classmates who were into geeky stuff like I was.

When I go to conventions, I usually meet friends there, and on this particular day (I was around twenty), I met one of my classmates. She was looking for an Altaïr (Assassin’s Creed) figurine, so we started browsing together. From afar, we checked one out that looked a bit like Altaïr.

Friend: “Is it Altaïr or…”

Me: “Wait, I see a second blade…”

And at the same time, we both said…

Friend & Me: “No, it’s Ezio.”

There was a group of tweens nearby, and I heard one of them say in awe:

Kid: “Woah, those girls play Assassin’s Creed!”

He was staring at us with an awestruck look. I smiled and replied.

Me: “Yeah, we girls play Assassin’s Creed!”

I found it funny when I saw how awestruck he was. I wondered if he thought we girls would spontaneously implode if we ever touched a controller to play a “guys’ game”.

At least he learned something that day.

CONTENT WARNING: Harassment/Stalking
 

When I was in college in my early twenties, after classes, I went grocery shopping for my mother. As always when I’m outside, I was listening to music full-blast and kept daydreaming, which is why it took me some time to notice the white van that kept driving until it was next to me and stopping when it reached me — rinse and repeat until I noticed the driver.

The guy, once he had my attention, made kissing gestures and started licking his lips while looking me dead in the eyes. Very peeved at the unwanted attention, I crossed the road in front of his truck and dived into the store. Once in the shop, I shrugged the encounter off as another creep that I wished I’d never meet again, and I started browsing, still listening to my favourite tunes.

As I was looking through the store aisle for the Items I needed, something caught my eye. It was the creep.

He. Actually. Followed me. Into the store.

Astonished by the audacity of the guy, I took out an earbud.

Me: “What the h***?!”

Creep: “Hi, miss. I saw you outside, and I tried getting your attention. Didn’t you see me?”

Me: “…”

After an awkward silence, he kept going.

Creep: “Yeah… So… I’d like to get to know you better. You wanna go out for a drink?”

It took a few seconds for me to process what was happening. Creeps were nothing new, but this guy was on another level. Then, I started smiling the sweetest smile I could.

Me: “Oh, so sorry, but I don’t think my wife will agree. She’s the jealous type, you know?”

Creep: *Disgusted* “Your wife?!”

And with a revulsed look, he finally left me alone.

While I was glad to be left alone, I was angry with myself. The a**hole was in his company’s van, and I didn’t think of taking a picture of him or at least writing down the name of the company to complain to them and get the guy fired.

My best friend had a good laugh at the story. I’m not a lesbian (I’m ace), but it worked so well that we decided that if either of us had that kind of trouble again, we’d call one another and play lovebirds. The trick is still very efficient ten years later.

I moved out of my mother’s house into my own flat just a couple of days before the entire country went on lockdown due to a famous contagious illness. And by a couple of days, I mean that I moved in on Sunday and the lockdown was announced on Wednesday.

As this was the first apartment I’d rented in my own name, I didn’t have a contract with a telephone company to install the Internet. I wanted to use the same provider my mother used, [Company #1], but when I called them, I was told that the first slot possible for the technician’s visit was three weeks later.

I still accepted the appointment, but since I assumed my workplace would want all of us employees to work from home (which would be difficult without Internet), I thought it would be too late and contacted another company [Company #2] with the idea of cancelling the appointment with [Company #1] later. 

They told me the technician would come the next week. I signed a contract and waited for the technician. They didn’t show up.

They came the week after that, and after a hot minute, they told me, “There is nothing I can do.” They said the Sales department would contact me, and the next week, I received an email from [Company #2] cancelling the contract.

Since I never cancelled the technician visit with [Company #1], they came a few days later at our scheduled meeting. They installed everything within twenty minutes, and I was finally connected to the world again.

But the story doesn’t end there. A month later, I received a bill from [Company #2]. 

I called them to investigate the charges; the technician hadn’t done anything and they had cancelled the contract themselves, so what was the charge about?

The lady I had on the phone told me not to pay attention to it and that I didn’t have to pay for anything. But the next month, I received a reminder. I called again, and another person told me the same thing. 

The next month came and, lo and behold, another reminder! I called back, and I was given the same answer. I was fuming and asked them to send me a confirmation that I didn’t need to pay the charges. Unfortunately, they couldn’t do that, they said, but I shouldn’t worry; I didn’t have to pay for anything. I tried to send an email requesting an explanation and never received an answer. 

The following month, it was not a reminder I found in the mail. It was a payment order from the bailiff’s office, threatening legal repercussions should I not pay the bill by a certain day.

I was done being nice at that point. I called the firm that had sent me the letter, explaining the situation. By email, I sent them a scanned copy of the contract, a copy of the email cancelling the contract, a copy of all the payment reminders, and a picture of the installations made by [Company #1]. I also sent them a copy of my email demanding explanations that never got an answer.

I was willing to pay what they wanted me to pay, but I didn’t know what they were charging me for.

A few days later, the bailiff’s office replied to my email: the matter was resolved, and I was not being charged for anything.

And so, I was connected. In the end, my workplace still asked us to come to work on-site. At least I could watch Netflix.

Belgium has three official tongues — Dutch, French, and German — yet nearly everybody speaks French, and there are more English speakers than Dutch speakers, even though English is not one of our national languages.

This happened today at the reception of the building I’m working in: my coworker was born abroad and is fluent in English, German, and French. However, she doesn’t speak Dutch at all. When we get a Dutch speaker, I generally handle them as, even though my Dutch isn’t perfect, I can be understood and understand roughly 40% of what they say to me.

This story happened as my coworker was alone at the reception. The phone rang, and a Flemish speaker started.

Caller: “Goeiedag, ik wil met iemand van [Company] spreken in verband met een brief van [Employee].” *Hello, I would like to talk to someone from [Company] about a letter from [Employee].*

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, I don’t speak Dutch. Do you speak English?”

Caller: “…Nederlands?”

Coworker: “No, sir, I’m sorry, I don’t speak Dutch. Do you speak French?”

Caller: “…Nederlands?”

Coworker: “Again, no, sir. Do you speak any other language than Dutch?”

Caller: “…Nederlands?”

Coworker: “No, sir, I’m sorry.”

Caller: “…Wat mort ik dan doen?!” *What should I do, then?!*

Coworker: “Do you speak English? French? German?”

Caller: “…” *Hangs up with a frustrated scream*

Did he expect her to magically learn Dutch?

I am having a drink with a friend when a woman comes in and orders pasta, a beer, and a whiskey. When she receives the bill, she begins arguing about it. I can’t catch everything, but among other complaints, she is saying she hasn’t had the whiskey, which is still in plain sight on the table. This goes on for five or ten minutes, during which the waitress also has to take care of other customers, and she ends up saying:

Waitress: “Please, be nice. Just pay and leave. I already didn’t charge you for your food.”

I go to the bathroom; when I come back, the woman is gone. My friend tells me she clearly had no money so they just let her go. When the waitress brings us our bill, I pay and add 5€; we normally don’t tip in Belgium.

Me: “That’s for keeping your cool and actually smiling to every single customer, despite that.”

I point to the table where the woman had been sitting.

Waitress: “Thank you very much! This is really helpful!”

My Friend: “But your boss is not going to take her bill from your paycheck, is he?”

Waitress: “Yes, he is. That’s why your tip is really appreciated! Thanks again!”

Later that day, I thought about what had happened and regretted that I didn’t give her 11€ or 12€ more to cover the woman’s bill, which was a bit more than 16€.

Without Not Always Right, I would probably have thought, “D***ed customer, it must be unbearable sometimes to do that job!” and that would have been all. I wouldn’t have done anything.