Being Salty Will Result In The Cold Shoulder

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: 3colt3/ | November 23, 2020

I live in an apartment complex. There’s a row of four apartments with another four on the same lot, facing each other, owned by the same guy. It snowed a bit yesterday, so today when I got up I decided to help my landlord out since he is an older gentleman, and I grabbed my trusty snow shovel.

I started with our walkways leading up to the sidewalk and then started on the part that goes around back to the garages between the two quadplexes. Just my luck, our side drifted, and six inches of snow turned into a thigh-deep battle.

I’m maybe halfway done with my battle with the drift when someone from the other quadplex comes out and heads for the garages. Our two walkways are separated by about five feet of grass and her side is mostly clear. As this woman I’ve seen once and never spoken to passes me, she flaps her hand to get my attention.

Woman: “Excuuuuuse me!”

After about half a second of her flappy-birding me, I glance up.

Me: “Yes?”

She waves her hand in the general direction of her apartment.

Woman: “Put salt on my stair once you’re finished.”

My. Brain. Goes. Wild! So many things I could say. So many! So much opportunity for shenanigans! Malicious compliance? Petty revenge? But I’m not much for making people too mad if I can help it. I just try to be nice as a first option. I smile at her.

Me: *In a super cheerful voice* “Sorry, don’t have any!”

Woman: “Why not? That’s super dangerous! See all this snow? What if I slip? What company do you work for? What the name of it? I’m going to call up my landlord and have your companies contract cancelled!”

My smiled just gets bigger and bigger as she is talking.

Me: “Lady, I don’t work here; I live here.”

I pointed to my living room window. Her face went instantly red. I was going to mess with her a bit more, but she just muttered something under her breath and hurried off. It gave me the laugh I needed to finish out my morning.

But wait. There’s more!

She actually called the landlord! She claimed I swore at her and she complained that I didn’t shovel her stairs; she said nothing about salt, though. Apparently, she makes monthly complaints about all sorts of things. The takeaway of our conversation with the landlord was that this was a normal interaction with this woman and unless someone is dying, I should ignore her for my own sake.

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Boris Returns And Things Get Heavy

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 20, 2020

A lot of people don’t realise how laidback Aussies can be, and when it comes to tradies (tradespeople), a lot of foreign friends look shocked at some stories. For us, it’s almost like meeting new mates in the pub when tradies are called in for backyard work. It’s raw entertainment; you learn new skills and you meet some of the best humoured people that way.

Two of my housemates are hanging out on the back patio debating checking out a new movie that had recently dropped, looking up session times on their smartphones. Halfway through the ticket ordering process, a tall, well-built tradie leans over the back fence. This fence isn’t short by any means, so the tradie is huge! He calls out to my housemates in a strong Russian accent, letting them know they’re about to bring a rotting tree down on the fence line.

No worries. My housemates offer assistance and the tradie laughs politely.

Tradie: “Nah, ve should have this vun easy. Thanks, though, sorry for noise!”

My housemates go back to ordering their tickets.

Housemate #2: “So, we have a time now. Where did you want to sit? I usually go for the middle back but I’m happy to sit anywhere. I know your glasses might make being under the projector a little… Hey, [Housemate #1], you okay?”

Housemate #1: “Hmm? Oh, sorry. I just have a feeling we should hold off for a bit.”

[Housemate #1] stares intently at the back fence, the roar of a chainsaw coming from the other side. [Housemate #2] shrugs and starts scrolling on social media, looking up intermittently to see that [Housemate #1] is still fixated on the back fence.

Housemate #2: “You worried about leaving while the neighbour’s tree is being dropped?”

Housemate #1: “Not really. Our fence could do with replacing. I’m kinda hoping it falls wrong.”

Housemate #2: *Laughs* “Yeah. I doubt we will be so lucky, though; those guys seem to know what they’re doing.”

[Housemate #1] just huffs in agreement. We have a really non-active real estate and things have to be either totally dead or dangerous for them to act on any repair orders. Having a tree fall on the patchy, rotted-out, half-fallen-over-already fence would be like winning the lottery.

About twenty minutes later, [Housemate #1] is losing hope and pulls up the tickets on their phone again, hovering over the buy button when [Housemate #2] starts excitedly tapping her arm and points at the top of the tree being removed. It’s starting to tilt, but not in the direction it should be.

[Housemate #1] drops the phone and starts chanting quietly.

Housemate #1: “Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall…”

[Housemate #2] joins, and they start chanting louder and louder until a startled cry goes up from the neighbours’ side.

Tradie: “SCATTER!”

The tree collapses with an almighty crash, right on top of the dilapidated fence. My housemates both let out a loud cheer, [Housemate #1] even flinging her coffee mug up in a concert salute.

(People drinking at concerts tend to do this a LOT in Australia, so if you’re near someone with a drink in-hand and the band announces an album hit coming up next, you find another location to stand if you want to avoid the splash zone.)

So now, both housemates are covered in cold coffee, [Housemate #1] is still cheering while [Housemate #2] is tangled in their chair from trying to dodge the downpour, the neighbours to our right’s dog is going ballistic, and a couple of screams come from the house on our other side.

Silence descends for a second or two, and then the huge Russian tradie appears over the ruins of the fence, scratching his head and looking rather sheepish.

Tradie: “Ve thought ve vere strong; ve vere wrong.”

The real estate replaced the fence, my housemates never got round to seeing their movie, the neighbour’s were horrified, and the property manager was subjected to repeated, terrible attempts at the tradie’s one-liners during the damages appraisal and incident report.

That was the fastest repair order to ever be done on that house.

Related:
Ivan, Cousin To Boris, Fights Scammers, Too
Boris Delivers When Boris Feels Like It
Boris Can See Through You
Boris Now Fights Scammers
Leave The Accents To Boris
Boris Need No Warranty; Boris IS Warranty!


This story is part of our Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the next story in the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

Read the Best Of November 2020 roundup!

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Possession Is Nine Tenths Of The Law

, , , , , | Friendly | November 17, 2020

My husband and I recently bought a home and property, and we have an apple orchard. We own the whole orchard, but we let our neighbors take as many apples as they want. One day, my neighbor comes up to me.

Neighbor: “How do you know [Woman Whose Name I Don’t Recognize]?”

Me: “I don’t. Who is that?”

Neighbor: “Oh, she’s a local crazy. She’s been taking some of your apples from the orchard. I’ll tell her to stop.”

Me: “Please do. I only let certain people take some apples.”

A few days later, I’m sitting with the door open when a big SUV rolls right over my mailbox and a lady sticks her head out and starts shouting at me. Then, she takes off.

A few days after that, I’m working on my car outside when the same SUV pulls up and the same woman gets out.

Woman: “I demand that you give me some apples!”

Me: “Whoa. First of all, who are you?”

Woman: “I’m [Woman]. My parents owned this house before those other people stole it and then you bought it. So I demand apples!”

Me: “No way. This house and land were legally bought and purchased, along with the apple orchard. So get off my property now, before I call [Sheriff].”

The woman spits out an angry tirade of random words and then gets back in her SUV, nearly runs over the cat, and drives away.

She still tries to steal apples from our orchard, but now we’ve installed video cameras to catch her and any other would-be thieves. She was warned to stay away several times by neighbors and police, but she insists that the house and land rightfully belong to her.

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Bad Parking Jobs Will Make You See Yellow

, , , , , , | Friendly | November 14, 2020

I’ve finished my night shift, it’s been twelve hours, and I’m tired and want to get in bed. I come down my road to see a car parked away from the kerb and on the corner of the turning to the carpark.

Because of how narrow the road is, I have to make a five-point turn to get in. It’s annoying, but a one-off isn’t going to bother me much.

However, this goes on for weeks. Sometimes it’s so bad I have to go past and turn around, and only then can I inch my way in.

I don’t know who owns the car, but clearly, it is upsetting the neighbours, as well, as there are already a few notes on the windshield.

I come home a few weeks later and the car is parked nearly in the middle of the road and blocking the entrance. I can barely get past, let alone into the carpark. I damage one of my wheels on the opposite kerb trying to avoid the car.

Annoyed at myself, I do at least manage to find a space to park way down the road and lug my heavy toolbox home.

I’m tired and fed up, and I just want to get to bed, but I am so annoyed by the selfishness of this person that I head back downstairs and snap a picture of the car and file a report with the council.

By the end of the week, there are two bright yellow parking tickets on the car. I see a woman standing by the car, on the phone, clearly irate. She takes the tickets off, shouts something, throws them on the floor, and then picks them up again.

She parked much better after that.

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No Borders On That Lady’s Hearing Powers

, , , , | Friendly | November 5, 2020

I am the author of the “No Borders…” stories.

My dog and I recently moved into a new flat which is closer to my work place. The building we moved into is quite old, and therefore, you can hear everything that is going on in other apartments — neighbours walking around, talking, etc. To avoid conflicts with our mostly elderly neighbours, my roommate and I have taken some precautions, like putting rugs on the floor to dampen the sound of my dog walking around.

Even though my dog is not a barker, I have picked up his training again so he stays quiet when he hears someone at the staircase outside the apartment or when the doorbell rings. We have communicated this to our neighbours, and everyone, except one elderly woman, seems to be okay with having a dog as a neighbour.

However, one afternoon about a week after we move in, our doorbell rings and my roommate opens the door.

Elderly Neighbour: “I’ve had enough of this! Your dog needs to stop barking!”

Roommate: “I’m sorry if he barked earlier this morning, but to be honest, I didn’t hear him bark even once today or yesterday.”

Elderly Neighbour: “He has been barking all afternoon! I can’t even have a cup of coffee in peace!”

Roommate: “I don’t think he was barking this afternoon. You see Ms. [My Name] and the dog—”

Elderly Neighbour: “I CAN HEAR HIM BARK AND IT NEEDS TO STOP!”

Roommate: “Listen, I’m trying to tell you that it can’t be [My Name]’s dog because—”

Elderly Neighbour: “I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN TO THE LANDLORD! IF THE D*** DOG DOESN’T STOP BARKING, HE NEEDS TO GO!”

Roommate: “With all respect, I—”

Elderly Neighbour: “HE NEEDS TO GO!”

With this, she turns around and goes back to her apartment. My roommate, utterly confused, stands in the doorway for a few moments and then notices a faint barking sound. She follows it downstairs, where she can hear some barking sounds from a TV show coming from one of the neighbours’ apartments that’s right below the angry lady’s apartment. She immediately sends me a text, telling me what happened, and I in return send an email to the landlord explaining the situation, in case our neighbour actually sends a complaint.

Why did my roommate have to text me, you ask? Well, my dog and I left in the morning to meet some friends and didn’t come back home until a few hours after this happened.

Related:
No Borders On That Guy’s Rudeness
No Borders On That Lady’s Crazy
No Borders On That Kid’s Kindness

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