One of the reasons we bought our home was the uninterrupted views of the lake it sat on. In spring, we watched the ducklings grow and flowers spring up; in winter, it was a beautiful white backdrop that we would walk in the snow.

Unfortunately, this was largely disrupted by someone parking their rusty old van on the grass, directly blocking our view. We tried asking — there were plenty of other actual spaces. We also tried getting help from the council, but they didn’t care. Nothing worked.

Then, I came up with a plan. I left one last note on the van, asking them to be neighbourly; if they moved just a few meters along, they wouldn’t block anyone. But I found the note on the ground screwed up, so that was that.

Every day, I would go to the van and scatter birdseed, and in the tree nearby I hung bird feeders. I had different types of food for all the local birds, and I applied it liberally.

For weeks, I did this and the van sat there. Eventually, it was covered in bird poo. The driver stopped parking there afterward.

I am sofa shopping. I’m only really in the store to check out how they look in person. I already know the styles I’m interested in and the costs. I have refused assistance twice, but unfortunately, my phone, which has all the names and measurements, is playing up. 

A third sales guy seems to sense this and sneaks up behind me.

Sales Guy: “Can I help?”

I’m still struggling with my phone.

Me: “Actually, maybe. I am looking for a sofa that is no wider than 228 cm, available in grey, and under £800.”

Sales Guy: “Hmm… I’m sure I can help you with that. Did you have a budget in mind?”

Me: “Under £800.”

Sales Guy: “Okay, that’s great. How about this one here?”

He leads me to a sofa that looks massive.

Me: “That looks pretty big. Are you sure it’s under 228?”

He doesn’t answer, so I grab my tape measure.

Me: “No, way too big.”

Sales Guy: “You could always try it and return it if it doesn’t fit.”

Me: “Err, no, I know it’s not going to fit.”

Sales Guy: “Okay, then. How about this one?”

Me: “It’s way over budget.”

Sales Guy: “We offer finance?”

Me: “You know what? I’m okay, actually. I will have to talk to my wife, anyway.”

Sales Guy: “Okay, whenever you’re ready to buy, just ask for me and I can help you further.”

You haven’t helped me at all so far, but okay. We ended up buying online at a different store. Way to screw yourself out of commission.

I’m sitting in the lunchroom waiting to get to the fridge as, apparently, some people don’t know how to queue and push their way past. [Coworker] is taking a long time rummaging through the fridge like she is searching for something. Finally, with a loud, “Aha!” she pulls out a lunch box — my lunch box.

Me: “[Coworker], that’s mine.”

Coworker: “Yeah.”

Me: “I normally like to eat my lunch out of my lunchbox at lunchtime.”

Coworker: “Well, you gave it away yesterday, so you probably don’t want it.”

I’m pretty easygoing, but [Coworker] just gets on my nerves; she’s greedy, lazy, and inconsiderate of others. Lunchtime is a particular annoyance as she loudly stuffs her face throughout, often watching some obnoxious videos loudly on her phone. Most people eat in their cars to get even a little bit of quiet.

Me: “No, you don’t just assume and take other people’s food! What is wrong with you?! Give me my lunch!”

She pulls it out of my reach.

Coworker: “No, what will I eat?”

Me: “You are a grown woman. Act like it!”

At that moment, one of the senior human resources advisors walks in.

HR Advisor: “Is this something I need to be involved in?”

Me: *Sighing* “No, it’s nothing. It’s just—”

Coworker: “Yes! He won’t let me eat my lunch and he called me fat.”

HR Advisor: “Really?”

Me: “No, of course not. It’s my lunch. It has my name on it, for Pete’s sake, and I didn’t call her anything.”

HR Advisor: “Can I suggest you return the food and sort this out? Otherwise, come to my office.”

[Coworker] did give me my lunch, and one of my other coworkers made a complaint on my behalf without me knowing. Apparently, [Coworker] stole my food because her doctor had put her on a diet and I always bring in healthy food. She did agree to stop taking food out of the fridge, but only if I bought in enough for the two of us. I declined that offer, which made me “selfish” according to [Coworker].

I really miss working from home.

It’s not uncommon for there to be cakes in the office due to birthdays, weddings, or just a good sale on at the nearby bakery. All cakes get put in the little kitchen area and are free for anyone to take. It’s a good system and most people treat it fairly.

On my way to work, I pick up a few large boxes of cookies and a couple of tray bakes. I also buy a large box of savory items. I place all the cakes on the kitchen side and write a note, “[My Name]’s birthday,” and leave it there. The savoury stuff goes under my desk as I have plans for it later.

At the morning tea break, I go to grab a cookie to find nothing left. It’s surprising; there should have been enough for everyone. A bit disappointed, I go to the shop and buy something else.

On my way back to my desk, I notice my other box has disappeared, as well. I check everywhere in the kitchen and surrounding desks, and even the trash. It’s gone. 

Coworker #1: “What are you looking for?”

Me: “A box of food. I put it under my desk?”

Coworker #1: “Is it not with not with others?”

Me: “No, that box is being donated. Did you see anyone near here?”

Coworker #1: “No. Oh, wait! Yes. [Coworker #2] was sitting there a while ago, when you weren’t here. Try asking her; she might have seen something.”

I go to her desk.

Me: “Hey, did you see a box underneath my desk? [Coworker #1] said you were over there.”

Coworker #2: “No, sorry. What was it?”

Me: “It was food. I put it aside for later.”

Coworker #2:  “Sorry, I didn’t see your pastries.”

Me: “Wait. I didn’t tell you what was in the box. Did you take it?”

Coworker #2: “What? No, I just assumed.”

Me: “That box is going to a small charity where I live. I want the box back.”

Coworker #2: “I didn’t take it.” *Storms off*

I was annoyed. I talked to my boss, who talked to security. They showed me the CCTV and, [Coworker #2] clearly took the box from my desk. Another camera showed her at her car, putting the box in her boot and stuffing food in her face.

They went to look for [Coworker #2] and took her to recover the box, only to find it not in her boot. Once again, they checked the cameras. It seemed that she went to her car to get the box after I called her out, instead of admitting it. She threw it in the bin!

I did manage to buy a second box in time. It was for a local childcare charity. They have little to no funding and they rely on charity and donations to be able to offer reduced childcare for struggling families

When [Coworker #2] was confronted about what she did, she still refused to apologise or pay me back. When the company had layoffs later that year, she didn’t survive.

We are selling our house. I normally let the agent deal with the viewings, but on the rare occasion they can’t, I don’t mind stepping in.

Today, I’m due to work, but I manage to squeeze in a viewing before I go. I take them around the house. They are making all the right noises, asking questions, and sizing up the room for their furniture.

As we finish, I show them out and they both seem very keen. I lock up and get to work. The next day, the agent calls me.

Agent: “How did it go?”

Me: “Good, they seemed really keen.”

Agent: “Okay, I spoke to them and they wanted me to tell you that they were interested but had other houses to see.”

Me: “Sure, I understand. Please let me know if you hear any more.”

Agent: “Sure. Oh, did you say you were the agent?”

Me: “No. Oh, I was in my work gear and I left the house when we finished. They probably assumed.”

Agent: “Ah, no worries. That explains it.”

A couple of days later, I get a call and they want a second viewing. Would I like to do this one, as well? As the last one went so well, I say sure. They let me know the time and that she will be bringing her mother-in-law.

I greet them in my work gear and give them the same tour again. The woman is keen but the mother-in-law is picking at everything.

Mother-In-Law: “Well, I don’t like those curtains!”

Woman: *To me* “I’m sorry. [Mother-In-Law], they won’t stay if we buy the house.”

Mother-In-Law: “Well, don’t you think this room is a bit small?”

Woman: “It’s bigger than the one we have now.”

Mother-In-Law: “Are you sure?”

Woman: “Yeah, I checked.”

This continues all around the house, the mother-in-law grumbling and the woman defending the place. We finish up and the mother-in-law stops me.

Mother-In-Law: “So, how much is this up for?”

Me: “It’s [price].”

Mother-In-Law: “Hmm, that sounds like a lot.”

Me: “It’s fairly typical of the area, and it’s priced to sell.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, they’re desperate to sell, huh? Why didn’t you say so? How much is the lowest they would take?”

Woman: “[Mother-In-Law]! You can’t ask that.”

Mother-In-Law: “Shh, I know what I’m doing. So, how much would they take? What if we found some ‘issues’?”

Me: “The price is a fair valuation. The ‘owners’ know that they will sell at this price. If you do find actual issues, they can be discussed.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, playing hardball. Okay, tell them we aren’t interested, then.”

Woman: “No, don’t do that, please; we are interested.”

Me: “There has been a lot of interest in the house; an offer has already been made.”

Woman: “Oh, no, okay, we are interested. We just need to figure out our budget.”

Mother-In-Law: “He’s lying. That’s what they all say. Tell them, tell them we’re not interested.”

Woman: “Stop, will you?!”

She dragged her mother-in-law out. They did make an offer; it was good but not enough. They upped it, but we soon received a much better offer and sold the house. I wonder what the conversation was when they saw the house taken off the market.