I was taking my daughter to her swimming lessons and sat in a separate room with my son, with windows overlooking the pools, thoroughly enjoying seeing her making progress. Enter another mum, also with her son, taking a call from someone.

Now, I don’t know whether this occurs in other countries as well, but in the Netherlands it’s sadly no rarity to see people, often in their twenties, taking calls in public with the other person on speakerphone. I suppose they’d defend it by saying it’s no different from two people talking face-to-face, but I disagree (and I know many people do).

The speakerphone is often way louder, sounds abrasive, and honestly the person taking the call talks way louder too because of it. It’s never just a call about what time someone is home for dinner either, but just endless chit-chat. I hate it and I was done with it.

So I took the polite but direct route.

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am, would you mind taking that call with the phone on your ear?”

I was expecting her to switch over, either with an apology, annoyance, or nothing at all out of embarrassment that someone decided to say something about it.

Instead, she immediately became hostile and defensive.

Annoying Mum: *Snappy.* “Why? It’s not bothering you.”

Me: “Yes. It is.”

Annoying Mum: “Why? Is my son bothering you too?”

Me: “No, just your phone.”

I still have no clue why she said that. Her son was quiet as a mouse, just playing with a toy table nearby. Perhaps she wanted to use him as a decoy, change the subject, daring me to take a step back or something?

Annoying Mum: “Well if it’s bothering you, why not just go somewhere else?”

Another mother from a kid in my daughter’s class piped up.

Nice Mum: “Excuse me, but what gall! I’m glad he spoke up about it, because it’s annoying me too, and I’m fairly sure others as well. Why don’t YOU move?”

Annoying Mum: “I am not going anywhere and I’m not changing my phone call for you.”

Nice Mum: “It’s incredibly rude and disturbing for other people here, take a hint.”

Then, [Annoying Mum] inwardly said something along the lines of “it’s just because I’m speaking another language”. Indeed, she was on the phone speaking a mix of Dutch and what I thought was Portuguese, and she was a person of colour.

It didn’t matter the slightest in the whole ordeal; she could’ve spoken a local dialect and been white for all I care. But at the time I definitely didn’t want to touch the subject.

I decided to let it go and just suffered through it while she was ranting to the person on the other side about the clash. Which of course was extra enjoyable (not) because we could hear the other person sympathise with her very vocally. Luckily, she hung up after a few minutes and that was the end of it for the time being.

But it left me seething. I’m incredibly vocal and activist about racism, bigotry, migration, socialism, gay rights, you name it. No one gets left behind and every person gets equal treatment. But when someone, who may very well be or have been a victim of racism or anti-immigration rhetorics, pulls a race card just to defend themselves out of a position where they’re just being rude and selfish, it boils my blood. You’re undoing so much that others like you, and myself, are fighting for.

In 2005, the housing company I work for renovated a couple of houses. The people who lived there did not get a raise in rent, didn’t have to pay anything, and even got paid for living accommodations when certain things could not be done with tenants present. Part of the renovation was that gas would no longer be possible as a cooking solution, only electricity or induction. If people selected induction, my housing company would arrange that, free of extra charge. They wouldn’t even have to pay for the shiny new cooking hob, and got 50 euros extra to buy new pots and pans. Sure, the renovation did not go smoothly, and mistakes were made, but everything was solved, and no complaints at the end.

In Social Housing, appliances that are not nailed to the walls and ceilings from the start are the responsibility of the tenant. Mechanical ventilation and heating = Housing. Refrigerator, dishwasher, and cooking hob = Tenant. This has been decided in the Social Housing Law, though you can make exceptions in your contract.

And now, in 2025:

Client: “Hello, my induction hob broke down.”

Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that. According to my system, the hob was placed in 2005 and was a gift, so I am afraid we can’t place a new one for you. But you can pick out whatever hob fancies you.”

Client: “No, you placed that hob, not me.”

Me: “That is true, but I see the letter you got and signed, which states this is a one-time gift, to replace your old system.”

Client: “Correct. But it’s broken now.”

Me: “And I’m sorry to hear that. However, we will not be replacing it. I’m afraid you have to buy one yourself.”

Client: “What?! How dare you! You should replace this thing, you bought it!”

Me: “We did, and then we gifted it to you.”

Client: “But it broke!”

Me: “Yes, after twenty years of use.”

Client: “So you should replace it. You gifted it to me and now it’s broken.”

Me: “We don’t have to replace a gift after twenty years of use.”

Client: “But now I don’t have any means to cook! This is a basic living condition!”

Me: “I apologize, but I can’t help you. You need to buy a new one yourself.”

Client: “But it was a gift!”

Me: “A gift, indeed. Could you imagine giving something… for example… an electric kettle to your neighbour. That would make them very happy, right?”

Client: “Of course!”

Me: “Now, ten years later, your neighbour knocks on your door. The electric kettle is broken.”

Client: “Yeah, so? That happens!”

Me: “Would you replace that electric kettle for them?”

Client: “Of course not!”

Me: “Why wouldn’t you?”

Client: “Because it was a gift! I didn’t break it! It’s not my responsibility.”

Me: “That’s exactly the reason why we can’t replace your hob.”

Client: “What?! But have you seen how expensive a new hob is?!”

Me: “I am well aware, but maybe you can find a nice deal somewhere?”

Client: “I can’t pay that!”

Me: “Maybe you can get a smaller hob while you save up for a big one? You have these two-pit sets for a decent price.”

Client: “How rude! How can you suggest such an embarrassingly small thing?! Seriously, why can’t [Housing Company] pay for it? They have plenty of money!”

Me: “We are Social Housing, ma’am, we don’t make any profit. I’m sorry, but we can’t help you.”

Client: “I’ll go to the Social Housing Commission!”

Me: “You are free to do so. If you don’t have any other questions, I wish you… oh, she hung up already.”

We’re still waiting on that e-mail from the Housing Commission telling us to replace a twenty-year-old gift.

I am notoriously clumsy and often bump into everything. On one such occasion:

Me: *Boink!*

Wife: “Ow, are you all right? That sounded loud.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine, just my pride that’s hurt.”

Wife: *Without hesitating a second.* “Oh, that’s fine. Your pride is used to it.”

Thanks, love.

This was not in the US, but I’ll use approximate dollar values to make it easier for people.

Back then, I was a tier two customer service rep. Which basically meant that I got all the angry people on the phone, or the weird, bizarre, or complex cases that the tier one reps couldn’t figure out. There were a lot of crazy people calling us, but The Greek is one everyone remembered. We nicknamed him that because his true name was Greek-sounding and hard to pronounce and remember.

I’d heard rumors of him for a few weeks by then. He’d call us to help him fix his problem, but he didn’t like the solutions offered, and he’d start cursing and shouting. I’m sure all of you know the type of person I’m talking about. Eventually, someone connected him through to me.

His story was this: he bought an active speaker from us worth about $800. Within a week (he claims), it broke, but he didn’t inform us until the sixth week. Within the first thirty days, we do a replacement, no questions asked. After that, it’s a repair.

The customer said that he needed it for his work, so one of the earlier customer service reps offered and sent him a loaner model. This is the one time where we screwed up. That colleague sent out a loaner with a higher value (around $1000), and worse, he sent it to the customer before we received the broken item. He sent it before the customer even shipped the broken speaker to us. If you see the potential problem here and facepalm… yeah, that was me too.

A few days after receiving the loaner, the customer calls again, saying that the loaner is broken too, with the exact same complaint. Around this point, yours truly got the pleasure of meeting this wonderful man.

At first, I walked him through his setup to rule out user error. This is where I figured out what was going on. He connected his active speaker through an amplifier to his music installation.

For those of you with little audio knowledge, here’s what you should know:

If you use a passive speaker, you need an amplifier.

If you use an active speaker, the amplifier is built in.

So, if you run the electric signal through an amp and then into an active speaker, you blow the thing up. Poof, say goodbye to your speaker(s).

At this point, we had it on a recorded line that he destroyed both his original model (which he still hadn’t sent back) and destroyed the loaner. I told him he had a few options moving forward:

Send back the original model for repairs. It was almost certain that the supplier would determine it was his fault, and he’d have to pay for the repair since it would be out of warranty due to his actions.

Send back the loaner and keep the original. We would check it as usual, and if it’s broken due to his fault, he’d be on the hook for those repair costs.

Or send both back, with the results mentioned above.

He was not happy, to say it politely. He started shouting and screaming that we were trying to scam him, that he would not return anything since we couldn’t be trusted, yada-yada-yada. I’m sure you can imagine the colorful language used.

He went one step further. He demanded that we pay HIM $500 so he could get his thing repaired at a third party. I, of course, declined this because, what the h***, dude? Not happening.

Amidst the cursing, he told me he’d keep the loaner as “hostage” until we paid him, and that he wouldn’t send the original in either.

We went back and forth on this, getting nowhere. So, I presented him with the fourth option that I hated using: if he decided to keep both the original and the loaner, then I’d have to forward his case to our collections department. They’d inform him that he had to pay for the loaner, send out payment reminders, and could eventually escalate it to a bailiff/debt collector.

He. Went. Off.

Screaming obscenities, threats, the whole nine yards. I informed him once again of the options, talking through his screaming. He held on to what he wanted, and I disconnected the call.

I forwarded his case to collections, and they sent out a payment reminder. A normal person would pay or try to solve this. Not this guy. More threats and angry emails. Payment reminders turned into the final warning, and he still didn’t want to do anything. He still wanted us to pay him.

So, his case got turned over to the collection agency/bailiffs. A normal person would realize he messed up and pay. Not this guy. At this point, he called us again and they forwarded him to me. I explained that I could not talk about the case with him anymore; the only communication would go through the bailiffs. He got angry, I repeated, and disconnected.

At this point, it remained quiet for a bit. Until I heard what happened from someone I know in the collections department.

This idiot continued his threats and anger towards the bailiff agency. They didn’t screw around. They pressed charges with the police for the various (death) threats he made. Besides that, they went to court to get a writ for the money owed so they could seize his goods.

So instead of working with us to fix his problem, which would’ve cost about $150–200, he now has to pay over $1500 (price of the loaner + late fees/penalties + bailiff costs), or lose his possessions. Plus, he has a police investigation that is sure to screw him over.

To give you an idea: threatening people is a criminal offense that carries the maximum punishment of two years in prison or a fine of $20,000. If the threat is in writing and the defendant sets conditions (if you don’t do X, I’ll do Y), then the maximum prison time is four years. So, he royally screwed himself over.

Oh, and his speaker is still broken.

The company I work for rents out not only social houses, but also student rooms. These rooms are maintained just like the social houses and priced according to the law, though we ask less because even we think the government asks too much. So, a decent room for a decent price, though opinions may vary.

I have customer service desk duty for walk-in clients, alongside another coworker. Enter a young man, dressed very classy: an unwrinkled suit, flashy sunglasses, perfectly clean shoes, and perfect hair. With him is another young man, dressed equally sharp.

We just dealt with a rush of clients (one of them needing two hours before he finally left!), so the area was empty at that time. The young man starts leaning on the desk with one arm.

Man: “Good afternoon, ladies! It’s really quiet, isn’t it?”

Me: “Good afternoon, you just missed the rush, but that just means we have all the time for you.”

Man: “Oh, really, really? So, you two deal with aaaaaall the clients by yourself?”

Me: “No, sir, all our other coworkers deal with the other client questions. How may we assist you?”

The young man whips out a letter from his pocket, with some flair.

Man: “Well, I just returned from my six-week vacation to Thailand, and I found this letter in my letterbox. There must’ve been a mistake, this letter could not be intended for me!”

Instead of giving it to me, he hands it to my coworker, holding it with two fingers. She takes the letter and starts typing. 

The young man starts talking to his friend and they loudly mention how much their suits cost, their shoes cost, their sunglasses cost, how they visit a barber every Tuesday, and throw in a ‘I don’t know anyone as successful as me at age twenty’ and ‘When I graduate I will start a start-up because I have a money-making idea’ once in a while.

My coworker looks up.

Coworker: “Sir, I see this letter was not sent in error. You have not paid your rent for two months now. We did try to deduct it, per your contract, but both deductions failed. This was a final notice after sending you three more letters, and since you did not respond, it was sent to a collection agency. I’ve taken the liberty of writing down the number for you.”

After a short silence:

Man: “Oh, no, no, no, that is a mistake, I have automatic deduction set up!”

Coworker: “Yes, you do, but it failed twice. On both [date] and [date]. That’s why we’ve sent you these letters. I also see they mailed you twice and called you on [date].”

Man: *Laughing.* “Oh, but I was in Thailand (again, with emphasis) then, so I was not aware. So, I will pay it with my next rent.”

Coworker: “I understand you were away, but it is your responsibility to pay your rent if the automatic deduction fails. That’s why we sent letters, emailed you, and even called you.”

Man: “But I was in Thailand! How could I have known? So, I am not responsible for your mistake.”

Coworker: “Sir… the automatic deduction only fails if there is no money in your account. Are you telling me you never checked your account in those two months? And I see the first letter was sent five days after the first deduction failed. If you were six weeks away, you should’ve seen that letter.”

Man: “Well… eh… I am very busy with my studies, so I didn’t see any letters. So I can’t be responsible because I did not know.”

Coworker: “Unfortunately, sir, you are responsible. Your debt has been handed over to the collection agency. There is nothing more that we can do for you. I advise you to call them.”

Man: “Oh, I will, I will! And they will just cancel the fee, because this is all a big misunderstanding on your part.”

He puts on a show of putting on his sunglasses and takes both the letter and the note. Both walk away and leave the building. The young man flips out his phone, his posture less confident. 

The two young men keep standing right next to the sliding doors, activating them over and over again, so yes, I can hear the famous last words:

Man: “Hey, eh… dad? I’m in trouble…”