My ex-husband and I met and became fast friends in 2004. We grew very close over time and became best friends but with no romantic intentions. We saw each other through tough relationships, family tragedies, and everything else under the sun. Somewhere around 2011, we thought it would be a grand idea for us to get married, which we did in 2012. Our marriage carried on much as it always had — as best friends.

After about a year, we realized we didn’t have the proper romantic feelings for each other to sustain a marriage, and we didn’t want to get in each other’s way of actually finding true love, so we had an amicable divorce around 2014. I chose to keep my married name (his last name) because I didn’t feel like doing all the paperwork to update passports and other documents, etc.

I ended up moving around the country many times after that, while he stayed in the same place, but we still talked every day and remained best friends.

In early 2020, he planned a trip to visit me and we spent a couple of days together. He wanted to buy a video game while in town, so we went to a local store. We spent some time looking around and being how we’ve always been together — dumb jokes, laughing nonstop, quippy banter, finishing each other’s sentences, etc. We obviously get along very well and probably seem attached at the hip to any bystander.

When we got to the checkout, I told my ex-husband he could use my points account for a discount.

Cashier: “What’s your phone number, ma’am?”

Me: “[Phone Number].”

Cashier: “And is that under [Last Name]?”

Me: “Yep!”

Ex-Husband: *Snorts* “I forgot that was your last name.”

Me: *Giggling* “Oh, my God! I keep forgetting we have the same last name!”

The cashier perked up and started clapping her hands, squealing with joy.

Cashier: “Ohhhh! Did you guys just get married?! Congratulations!”

We really didn’t want to burst her bubble, but I couldn’t help but tell the truth. 

Me: *Laughing* “Actually, we got divorced about six years ago.”

Cashier: “Oh. Uh, sorry. Here’s your receipt. Have a good day.”

We did feel bad for embarrassing her, but we laughed about it once we got back in my car. It’s now 2022, and we’re still best friends and talk every day, and we’re both still unmarried. We agreed that if things continue to look dismal for marriages for both of us, we definitely won’t get married again, but we’ll grow old together in matching rocking chairs.

I was a police officer. About fifteen years ago, a girl came in with a complaint that her boyfriend had been sending her a stream of harassing messages after she broke up with him. They weren’t threatening in nature; they oscillated between a few different angles.

Message: “Baby, I love you! Give me another chance!”

Message: “You’re nothing but a cheap w***e and left me to be with someone else!”

Message: “I just swallowed a hundred sleeping pills. I hope you’re proud of yourself!”

Message: “Let’s be adults and talk this out.”

It was serious enough to warrant law enforcement becoming involved when it escalated to the point that this gentleman was actually buying new SIM cards to continue to harass the young lady after she’d blocked him for the umpteenth time.

I went ahead and placed the first warning call.

Me: “…if you continue to contact her in any manner, you will be arrested for harassment. Have I made myself clear?”

Ex-Boyfriend: “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m in a wheelchair!”

Me: “Your disability is completely irrelevant. And—” *extra pleasantly* “—we do have cells and services in the county jail that accommodate inmates who are disabled, as per the Americans With Disabilities Act!”

Ex-Boyfriend: “This is how you treat disabled citizens?”

Me: “It’s how I treat citizens who are breaking the law! Now, again, I am giving you a fair warning. You will be arrested if—”

Ex-Boyfriend: “I’m gonna call my lawyer. You have no right talking to someone in a wheelchair like this. He’s the best lawyer in [City], and he’ll have your badge!”

Me: “You have the right to have a lawyer represent you if you’d like, if you’d rather not speak to me.”

Ex-Boyfriend: “I’m just saying, I’m in a wheelchair, and you will treat me with respect!”

Me: “Do you understand the warning we are giving you?”

Ex-Boyfriend: “No, I don’t understand any of it. Explain it to me in detail.”

Me: “Okay, we’re not going to play games with you, so why don’t you have your lawyer call this office? My name is Officer [My Name], badge number—”

Ex-Boyfriend: *Click*

He then contacted the young lady from another number with, “How dare you call the cops on a man in a wheelchair?! You should be ashamed of yourself!” And so on.

It took a restraining order to send home the message that his wheelchair wasn’t a license to break the law. And as I was told by the serving deputy (whose forceful, powerful voice and intimidating stature had earned him the nickname “Bull”), the guy tried the “You can’t do that! I’m in a wheelchair!” rebuttal on him and was immediately shut down.

One of my friends had a girlfriend who was, to put it lightly, difficult to handle. To put it less lightly, she was vain, controlling, belittling, and the kind of narcissist who honestly believed that the world would simply change because she wanted it to.

My friend finally decided that he was going to break up with her. I saw him the day after and asked him how it went.

Friend: “Well, about as well as I could expect.”

Me: “That bad?”

Friend: “She said she’s going to sue me for abusing her by making decisions like this without her consent.”

Because of course, she was the kind of girl who’d expect you to get her permission before you could break up with her.

However, the best part was when my friend got a letter in the mail a couple of weeks later. The return address had the name “US Court System” but actually had his ex’s address below that, and inside was a plain printed letter that said, in short, that “court proceeds” were started against him, but they could be halted if he reversed his “ellipsis of judgment,” among several other completely wrong word choices.

He considered writing back with something like “Nice try,” but ultimately, he just shredded the letter and moved on. It has been three months now, and he hasn’t heard anything else about any “court proceeds.”

A customer comes to my station.

Customer #1: “Can you check a couple of balances for me? My phone won’t connect to the online banking app for some reason.”

Me: “Of course, sir. Can I see your ID and the account numbers?”

He hands me his ID and a slip of paper with a checking and savings account number. I pull the accounts and verify he is a co-owner on both. I also see a second savings account that he did not include in his list.

Me: “Okay, so the checking account has [amount less than $5], and the savings account listed has [amount greater than $1,000].”

The customer exhales.

Customer #1: “Wow. Okay. That’s why my debit card didn’t work. At least the savings is correct. Thank goodness she didn’t touch that.”

Me: “Do you want the balance of the second savings?”

Customer #1: “No, that’s not mine.”

He explains to me that he is getting divorced, and he is concerned that his ex will clean out all the accounts. The second savings is hers, so he’s not interested in that. But he wants to protect the money left in his account, since she’s cleaned out the checking.

Me: “I can open a new savings with just your name, transfer the funds out of the old account, and then close it. Would that work?”

Customer #1: “Definitely. Thank you! So, this old savings number won’t work?”

Me: “Correct. Do you want a separate checking, as well?”

Customer #1: “Yes, but not today. Can I come back for it?”

Me: “Of course, sir. Let’s get your savings taken care of.”

I open a new savings, transfer his money over, close the old one, and send him on his way. He is insistent that we not touch the old checking or the second savings. A couple of days later, he returns.

Me: “Oh, hi, [Customer #1]. How are you?”

Customer #1: “Good, thanks! Can I still open that checking account in just my name?”

Me: “Yes! Come on over and I’ll get you set.”

He takes a step toward my station, but a woman steps in front of him.

Customer #2: “I was here first. You serve me first.”

Me: “Ma’am, you just cut in front of another customer. Now, please go to the back of the line.”

Customer #1: “It’s okay. I’m in no hurry.”

[Customer #1] has a smirk on his face. [Customer #2] whirls around, stares at him, and then turns back around with a red face. The coworker next to me messages me that she is available to open an account, so I send [Customer #1] to her so that he does not have to wait. Elapsed time: about sixty seconds. [Customer #2] rolls her eyes.

Customer #2: “Are you ready to do your job now?”

I bite back a snide remark.

Me: “What can I help you with?”

Customer #2: “I need all the money in this savings transferred into my checking account.”

She hands me her ID and a savings account number that looks familiar. I pull it up and realize it is the savings account that [Customer #1] closed two days ago. The ID matches the second name on the account. If you guessed it, congratulations… [Customer #2] is his ex.

Me: “Ma’am, that savings has a zero balance and is closed.”

Customer #2: “Excuse me? I did not authorize that!”

I am restricted from disclosing who closed it. I can, however, drop a hint…

Me: “This account had two people on it, correct? So, in that case, only one of the account owners is required to be present to close it. I’d check with that second person.”

[Customer #1] turns, grins at her, and waves. She lets out an annoyed yell.

Customer #2: “Useless! Fine. Is the other savings account still there?”

Me: “It is.”

Customer #2: “I want a new savings in just my name, and I want the remaining money from the other savings and the checking transferred into it. Can you handle that?”

Me: “I can.”

I take care of this for her. When it’s complete, she grabs her paperwork and stomps out. My coworker and I just stare at each other.

Customer #1: “And now you both see why she’s my ex.”

He thanked us profusely, calmly collected his paperwork, and exited.

I just got out of a horrible nine-year relationship. I had to flee, actually. In hindsight, the entire relationship was nothing but gaslighting, but I managed to reconnect with myself and got out moderately safe.

My ex has been on the verge of stalking since I left. I was still somewhat under his influence, I guess, right a few days after I ran away, so I agreed to have “just one last talk” with him two times. I had agreed on five minutes by the front door, but of course, it turned into more than two hours inside his house where I got extremely uncomfortable and very, very tired. It was nothing but telling me how much I hurt him and what a complete b**** he thought I was and always had been.

After I blocked his phone number and social media accounts, he started hanging around my workplace. I ignored him, got friends and colleagues to walk me home, and told him I would get the police involved if he didn’t stop. I made it very, very clear that I never wanted to see him again.

It’s blissfully quiet for a few months until he sends me a text from his work phone. Shoot, forgot he had that!

Ex-Boyfriend: “There’s still mail coming in for you.”

Me: “Leave it by your door when you’re at work so I can pick it up.”

Ex-Boyfriend: “It’ll get stolen. Come get it.”

Me: “Fine. I’ll come by and pick it up, but only that. You hand me my mail and I will leave right away.”

He agrees. I ring the doorbell on date we agreed on.

Ex-Boyfriend: “Just come in for five minutes.”

Me: “Okay, bye!”

I start walking.

Ex-Boyfriend: “Wait! This is really important mail! There are some other things you left behind, too.”

Me: “So give them to me.”

Ex-Boyfriend: “I just don’t understand why you have to be so hostile when I’ve been nothing but nice over this whole ordeal. Won’t you give me just five minutes?”

Me: “No. This is not what we agreed on. Bye.”

I walk away and he actually comes running after me.

Ex-Boyfriend: “Stop! I really want to give you your stuff back!”

Me: “Last chance, then. If I follow you to that door, you hand over my things and that is it.”

Ex-Boyfriend: “Don’t scream at me. I still have to live on this street.”

Me: “Bye.”

I walk away.

Ex-Boyfriend: “No, wait. I’m sorry! I’ll get your things.”

He gets two little boxes but doesn’t hand them over. He’s suddenly shaking with anger and speaking really aggressively.

Ex-Boyfriend: “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! YOU’RE SUCH A TOTAL B****! I COULD’VE JUST SET ALL OF THIS ON FIRE INSTEAD OF TELLING YOU I STILL HAD IT! YOU HAVE TO TALK TO ME! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO A DECENT CONVERSATION! I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE THIS S*** FROM SUCH A C*** WHO…”

I smile calmly, turn around, and start walking, calling the friend I’ll be spending the night with.

Me: *On the phone* “Hi!” *Pauses* “No, I didn’t get my things back.” *Pauses* “It’s okay, I know where we stand. I knew already, of course, but now I’m really sure.” *Pauses* “Yeah, it was…”

My ex comes running after me. I turn around.

Me: *To my ex* “NO.” *To my phone* “Could you stay on the line, please?” *To my ex* “You stop right there. You have absolutely no rights with me whatsoever. You never speak to me again. You stay away from me. As for my stuff, burn it for all I care. I haven’t missed it; it can’t be that important. Go away right now!”

I turned around and kept talking to my friend. My ex actually continued to follow me to the end of the street, but I completely ignored him and he left. I blocked his work number, too. I haven’t seen him since.