I’m going to sell some kittens that my cat had. I do my research, I have them vaccinated and put out an ad with cute pictures and a small video of one of them going up to sniff the camera.

I am quite sure it will go well, even though the people advising me, think my price of 1000SEK (about $110 USD) is crazy. Personally, I feel whoever is going to take the kittens, should care enough to pay for them.

I get an email that my ad is approved and within a minute I get my first call; the next hour is crazy! I have people calling, emailing, texting, all at the same time. I start writing some down on a waiting list in case the first takers won’t take the cats after meeting them but quickly resort to letting them know there is already a long list, that I can write their name if they want but that they probably won’t hear from me.

 Then this lady calls:

Lady: “Hello, I saw your ad and I want the girl.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry but there are already many people wanting the kittens…”

Lady: “Yes well, I only want the girl.”

Me: “Yes, most people want the girl; there is already a very long queue.”

Lady: “I’ll pay double.”

Me: “That is very nice of you, but I’ve already promised the first caller they can come and see her and it wouldn’t feel fair to them, if she backs down I might be able to—”

Lady: “No, you give me the girl. I need a cat for my summer house so she’ll be out on the island; it will be very nice for her. I want the girl; I’ll pay four times the amount.”

A cold chill immediately goes down my spine, having heard of summer cats, left to fend for themselves over winter, most of them dying, and being willing to pay that much seems excessive unless it is something weird about it. I couldn’t be sure that was her plan, but I told myself not to sell the cats to anyone who gave me a bad feeling.

Me: “No, I’m sorry, there are a lot of people before you in queue, so she is already taken.”

Lady: “Alright, well can you put me in second place at least?”

Me: “No, you’re not getting on the list.”

Lady: “You’re very unprofessional!” *Hangs up.*

I sigh and take the next call to tell them the cats have been sold.

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Woman: “Yes, I’m interested in your kittens.”

Me: “Yeah, they are booked and there is a long queue…”

Woman: “Then why haven’t you taken the ad down?”

In my head, I instantly wonder the same.

Me: “Well, honestly, I haven’t really had time, it only went live an hour ago.”

Woman: “Well, you should!”

Me: “Yes, thank you!”

It took a while to log in and take it down, but showing the list to those who doubted me did make me feel a bit better about the ordeal, especially knowing I kept to my principles through the whole thing.

I have been out partying with a couple of friends. It is a late winter night, without snow, and it’s very cold. As I am making my way along the street, a few guys go past, dressed only in T-shirts and jeans, and one starts talking to me.

Tourist: “Hi! We’re tourists; it is our first time in Sweden. It is really cold here!”

Me: “Yes, it is in the middle of winter.”

Tourist: “But there is no snow. We were hoping to see some nice snow.”

Me: “There isn’t always snow, especially not in the city, but there was snow last week.”

Tourist: “I didn’t think it would be this cold, though.”

Me: “But you went to Sweden in the middle of the winter and expected to see snow?”

Tourist: “Yeah.”

Me: “You should dress up more. Did you not bring any jackets or sweaters?”

Tourist: “No, that’s not cool to wear!”

He actually laughs at it, as if it would be silly, while I’m standing there in a warm coat, gloves, and a thick scarf.

Me: “No, it’s warm.”

He just shook his head and caught up to his friends. I hope they did not fall asleep outside, as I’m not sure they’d been warned about that.

I sold some things online last night. I’ve packaged them they’re ready to ship. Since I know they pick up the packages early in the morning, I go to the corner shop that handles this postal service a few minutes after they open.

The owner is there, setting out signs and getting everything ready. He greets me, and since he has just started the day, he hasn’t turned on the computer yet. We stand there for a minute or so until another customer comes into the middle of the small shop.

The owner pokes his head out from the postal area to the other customer.

Owner: “Hello!”

Since I am in no hurry and the computer is still booting, I don’t mind him taking care of the other customer if he wants to buy something. But no. I hear the customer leave, and when I turn around, he is already on his bike, muttering:

Customer: “Stupid idiot, just standing there and not going to the register.”

I couldn’t help but just laugh. I told the owner he did nothing wrong and that the other customer was just a nutjob. By now the computer had booted, I got my packages scanned, and I wished him a nut-free day.

I was in my early teens and on a school trip to Stockholm with my class. We had visited the museums and gone on the tour we were there for, so our teachers let us loose for an hour to shop for souvenirs before it was time to head back home to our small city in the countryside. This was in the early nineties and kids had a lot more freedom then than they have now.

My family didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up, but I had saved up for months for this trip so I would be able to buy myself something special. I have always been interested in fashion, and there is a very well-known fancy department store in Stockholm that I was dying to visit. My friends and I spent some time walking through the different areas, ahh-ing and ooh-ing at all the things we couldn’t afford. 

I still wanted a souvenir from my visit, so we went to the accessories department where I picked out a beautiful scarf that was pretty pricey but still within my budget.  

There was a line to the register, and I took my place in it, clutching the scarf in one hand and my little wallet in the other, while feeling very grown-up and fancy. 

When it was my turn, the lady behind the counter looked at my fourteen-year-old self, my mail-order clothes, and my mended backpack, and instantly turned to the next person in line and started serving them instead.

Me: “I’m sorry, I think it was my turn. I would like to buy this scarf, please.”

Cashier: “Go put that back where you found it, kid. We’re very busy right now.”

Me: “But we have to meet our teacher in fifteen minutes. Can I just pay for this, please?”

Cashier: “So, you found something on the clearance rack and you just want the [Department Store] bag. I get it. You’ll have to wait your turn while I serve the real customers.”

I was close to tears, but I was too intimidated to stand up to an adult in a place where it had been made clear to me that I didn’t belong. I also really wanted the scarf, so I dutifully stood aside, waiting for the line to clear. 

Eventually, the last customer in the line had paid, and I stepped up to the counter again.

Cashier: “Are you still here? All right, put that scarf back and you can have a bag for two crowns.”

Me: “I would like to pay for the scarf, please. I don’t need a bag; I’ve got room in my backpack.”

We were late back to meet with our teacher, and while it was a beautiful scarf, I rarely wore it because every time I looked at it, it brought the entire humiliating experience up again. 

Now, as an adult, I can actually afford to shop at that department store, but I have never been back because of the way they treated me back then.

I work as a night manager in a hotel. I just started my shift, and I get information regarding a guest who is acting a bit shady, has a connection-reservation coming up which he has not paid for yet, and still has a few bar bills to pay.

One of my colleagues dialed him at 6:00 pm.

Colleague: “I was wondering when you’re planning to come down to finalize your payment?”

Guest: “I’ll be down in just a moment.”

At 9:00 pm, my colleague saw him run out of the lobby without saying anything to the front desk.

I start my shift at 10:30 pm and get all the info I need. I pay a visit to the room he has departed from. I stumble upon one of the dirtiest rooms I have ever witnessed. He has smoked a lot in the shower, and there is ash everywhere; we are a smoke-free hotel.

I go back to the front desk and try to charge his card for the bar bill and as well as the smoking fee. It is declined. I remember overhearing from a colleague that he opens and closes his card however he wants to avoid late payments.

Anyway, I tell myself that if he walks back in, I will make him pay for the bar bill and the smoking fee and then refuse to check him in again.

At 11:30 pm, the madman walks in again and orders me to finalize his connection-reservation.

Me: “I will finalize the payment from your previous stay, in addition to a smoking fee; I found evidence that you smoked in the room.”

Guest: “I’m not paying any smoking fee! I didn’t smoke in the room!”

I show him some pictures of the room.

Guest: *Shrugging* “The ashes must have fallen off of my clothes from when I smoked outside.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we have evidence.”

He gives up.

Guest: “I’m just gonna call a friend.”

And he takes off running.

I stand there confused. I know that his card will decline, and I feel like it’s not worth it to call the cops etc. After two minutes, I see that he has borrowed one of these electric bikes you can rent around town, and at the same second that he drives past our entrance, I realise that he has activated his card to be able to rent the bike! So, I pull up his folio and try to charge his card once again, and the missing payments go through! He tried to flee, but I feel like I outsmarted him.

He called us later and said that we did not have the right to charge his card after his stay. I simply answered that we do have the right to charge a card if there are missing payments. That is what he signed when he registered. He just said, “See you in court!” and hung up.