I give you three instances of my ex that I have since dubbed “The Snap™”, where she could go from 0 to 1000 in an instant.

Example #1:

I’m cooking her dinner.

Me: “Hey, babe, do you want a boiled egg with your curry?”

Ex: *Extremely snappy out of nowhere* “I don’t know. Do you want to be single?”

Me: “…That would be a no, then?”

Ex: “Duh! Boiled eggs are f****** gross! If you like boiled eggs, you’re a psychopath. Why would you even ask me if I want an egg with my curry of all things?”

Me: “Because I like an egg with my curry sometimes. I guess I’m a psycho, then.”

Somehow, she is back to perfectly pleasant after that.

Example #2:

Again, a dinner incident. I planned to make pancakes, but we’re out of jam for topping, so we pop to the store.

Ex: “What flavour jam were you craving?”

Me: “Dunno… I’m a bit fed up with forest fruit, as I always have that.”

Ex: “How about strawberry?” 

Me: “Not really, either. I think I want—”

Cue The Snap™.

Ex: “OH, MY GOD! Forget about the whole f****** d*** jam, then, why don’t you?!”

Me: “—blackcurrant. Uh… is there a problem?”

Ex: *Suddenly sugary sweet again* “No… why?”

Me: “We can get strawberry if you really prefer that.”

Ex: *Still smiling innocently* “No, blackcurrant is fine.” 

These kinds of instances pop up here and there, and when I ask her about it, she first ignores it, but after a while, she confesses that she is going through a burnout and she’s just tired and depressed, and that’s why she’s snappy. We haven’t been dating for three months, and we’re not at an “unconditional love and support” level by a long shot, especially not with the way she has been snapping at me, but I try my best by her. She says she understands that I need some more love and attention than she is giving me, and she urges me to speak up about it when I need it.

So, we come to the scene of the last Snap™.

We’re at her place, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. I open my arms to invite a snuggle, but she claims she is “too tired to even lean across”.

But not two seconds later, she gets up to pluck her cat from the other end of the room and give it a very grand display of hugs and kisses.

Trying to be playful and not too “Hello, I’d like some attention” and on-the-nose with my needs, I say:

Me: “Wow, [Cat] gets so many kisses today! You happen to have one to spare for me?”

Ex: *Snappy thundercloud out of nowhere* “I don’t know. Check under the couch for one for all I care.” 

I broke up with her the week after that, and somehow she was all “Surprised Pikachu Face” about it, even after all this.

I had a new boyfriend (dating for maybe a month) at my house for the first time. I went to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, and a few seconds later, he opened the door. 

Me: “Uh, busy?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, where is your phone charger?”

Me: “By the couch.”

I pushed the door closed. He opened it again. 

Boyfriend: “I didn’t see it.”

Me: “I will show you when I’m done. Please stop.”

Boyfriend: “What?”

Me: *Pushing the door* “Please don’t just barge into the bathroom.”

Boyfriend: *Holding the door open* “What? Are you pooping?”

Me: “Get out!”

I pushed the door shut and locked it right before he tried to open it again. 

Boyfriend: “You don’t need to be so angry. Everybody poops.”

I didn’t answer. When I stepped out, he was gone. Apparently, he had something to do and would call me later.

The next time he was over, I went to the bathroom, and again, he opened the door. 

Me: “What are you doing?”

Boyfriend: “I need the mirror.”

Me: “It can’t wait? I like bathroom time to be just me.”

Boyfriend: *In a mocking tone* “Okay, just for you, but you invited me over.”

Me: “Not to the bathroom! Get out!”

He stayed and even tried to talk to me while I was sitting on the toilet. I was furious. We were nowhere near the “no clothes” part of our relationship, but he had barged in on my bathroom time twice.

When I was done, I sat him down on the couch. 

Me: “Look. I understand that some people are comfortable with sharing their bathroom time, but I am not. If I am in there, please do not just come in.”

Boyfriend: “Why?”

Me: “Because I find it uncomfortable and frankly rude that you aren’t respecting my boundaries.”

Boyfriend: “Fine. If you’re so insecure, fine. I’ll just go.”

Me: “I think that’s best.”

Boyfriend: “What?”

Me: “I think that’s best. I told you I don’t like something, I told you why, and you continue to ignore me. Please go.”

He left… eventually. First, he locked himself in the bathroom for an hour and spent the whole time yelling through the door about how it wasn’t a big deal, but he left.

I don’t regret cutting him loose so early in the relationship. If he was willing to ignore my request for privacy in the bathroom, what else would he ignore?

I dated a man who was never responsible for his own actions. And I do mean a man; he was thirty-two at the time of this phone call. I was twenty-one, so I was young enough to think that being the one to step up and take care of him was the right choice for me. As it turned out, it wasn’t.

This conversation was about our two-year anniversary. 

Me: “When will you be here on Friday?”

Boyfriend: “For what?”

Me: “To pick me up.”

Boyfriend: “For what?!”

Me: “We’re going to [Restaurant] for dinner? It’s our anniversary.”

Boyfriend: “Oh. I made other plans, sorry.”

He didn’t sound at all sorry.

Me: “Why would you make other plans? We reserved the restaurant a month ago.”

Boyfriend: *Defensively* “Why didn’t you remind me if this is so important to you?”

Me: “I told you last weekend in person, and I told you on the phone on Wednesday.”

Boyfriend: “Okay, well, I don’t remember that at all. Maybe you were talking to someone else.”

Me: “I texted you on Thursday, and you replied to the text saying, ‘Okay, I’ll be there.’”

Boyfriend: “Well, you can’t expect me to remember these things if you don’t write them down. I have a full-time job. Don’t get pissy with me for—”

Me: “It is in your phone calendar and written on the paper calendar in your kitchen.”

There was a pause, and I heard him tapping through his phone. He cursed, and then I heard him walking to the kitchen.

Boyfriend: “Well, I still made other plans.”

Me: “Okay, you go ahead and do whatever you want.”

Boyfriend: “You’re not mad?”

Me: “Oh, no, I’m pissed. But I’m not going to keep putting in all this effort if you’re not going to try.”

Boyfriend: “I am trying! What do you want me to do?”

Me: “I want you to f****** listen when I talk, pay attention when we make plans, and be a f****** adult!”

Boyfriend: “Wow. You know, you are not going to talk to me like that.”

Me: “You’re right; I’m not. Enjoy whatever plans you have. Don’t bother calling me again.”

I hung up.

He tried to call a few days later, leaving voicemails saying things like, “I hope you’ve calmed down by now,” and, “If you’d like to apologize for your behavior, I’m listening.” I never responded to anything, and after a few weeks, he stopped calling.

CONTENT WARNING: Alcohol Abuse
 

I used to work at a smallish local shop in a small town. We had a lot of regulars. One we all knew had a problem with alcohol, but we never said anything; he wasn’t causing a problem and just bought a lot of wine.

One day, he came in and walked up to the counter with two bottles. He was clearly drunk and could barely stand in one spot without staggering. Naturally, at that point, we refused to serve him. When we saw him leave the shop and head to a car’s driver seat, alarm bells started ringing.

A supervisor and I headed out to intervene just as he was getting into the driver’s seat. The bumper of his car was already dented, as if he’d had a collision driving to our shop. He was, at that point, trying to start his car with a vape pen. Between us, we convinced him not to drive.

He shook my supervisor’s hand and thanked him for his care, and he explained that his wife had just left him and taken their kid. We expressed our sympathy and told him not to drive, our car park had CCTV, and we’d watch his car. He left and phoned someone to come pick him up.

He went off.

Not long after that, the police showed up asking questions about him. Someone must have called them after seeing him drive in. Anyway, we gave them the relevant information, and the car sat there for at least a week before it was moved. The police never came back.

Sometime later, we were looking at the CCTV and saw the same man collapsed drunk by our cash machine/ATM.

The company boss decided not to serve him alcohol anymore when he came in. I was the one who had to refuse him his next two bottles of wine. He took it well. He has come in since his alcohol ban for food and dog food.

I have since left the company, and I’ve seen him a few times in the local supermarket. He looked well, — and most importantly, he looked happy.

I have now moved away, and I hope he’s doing all right.

The board game café and pub I used to work at taught me many things, and one of those was to never mix business with pleasure without some strong guarantees.

The place’s owner had only me, his sister, and two close friends on call, with various flaky part-timers going through revolving doors for various reasons. Somehow, despite being placed fairly in the way of nightlife, and advertised in English, too, this was more than enough.

Then, one day, [Owner]’s sister found herself a girlfriend. Said girlfriend was at first merely invited to hang out at the cafè, but soon enough, she had started to invite friends over… and let them eat and drink for free.

The tales of [Sister]’s generosity soon spread to the extended friend circles, increasing the number of people occupying tables and eating or drinking for free little by little.

Things came to a head when, one Saturday night, the number of [Sister]’s friends and “acquaintances” was enough to occupy all but two seats, and the overall bill, by all accounts, should have been around 1,100€, instead of 0€. This was made worse by the fact that the people got hostile with patrons who did intend to pay to stay there and that [Sister] had forced me and a poor b*****d expecting an easy job to rush around to all the tables while being treated like dirt for not conjuring food out of our behinds.

The next week, the owner saw the expense ledger and demanded an explanation. Let’s just say it’s lucky he didn’t try to bite his sister’s head off.

As soon as [Sister] told her girlfriend that she was going to charge her for food and drink, she got ghosted.