My roommate kept asking for fancy groceries, always promising to pay me back but never doing it, and it was driving me crazy. The last straw came when she wanted a bunch of expensive stuff for her party. I decided to teach her a lesson, and oh, did I!
I never thought I’d find myself planning payback on a roommate, but here we are. It all started about a year ago when Maeve and I moved into our cozy little apartment in the city. At first, everything was great.
We split chores, had movie nights, and even went out for drinks a few times. But then, slowly, the problems began to show. Maeve was one of those people who seemed good at getting others to do things for her.
She had this way of asking that made you feel bad for even thinking of saying no. It started small. “Hey, Finley, could you grab some milk on your way home?
I’ll pay you back,” she’d ask. No big deal, right? But then it grew.
See, part of the problem is that Maeve has pricey tastes. “Finley, could you pick up some of that fancy truffle cheese for me? It’s for a study snack.
I’ll pay you back, I swear!” Spoiler alert: she never did. At first, I brushed it off. Maeve was busy, or at least she claimed to be.
She was always complaining about her tough study schedule, how she was stuck at home buried in books. But I knew the truth. While I was out working hard at my job, she was home throwing parties and hanging out with her friends.
One evening, after a really tiring day at work, I came home to yet another request. Maeve was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Maeve and I had been roommates for about a year.
At first, she seemed like the perfect roommate: thoughtful, easy-going, and always willing to help out. I guess I took advantage of that a bit too much. She barely looked up as she said, “Hey, Finley, can you pick up some things for my party this weekend?
You know, cheeses, nice fruits, imported chocolates, and some good wine. The list is on the fridge.”
That was it! It wasn’t just the money; it was the idea of it all.
She was using me, and I was tired of being the fool. I stood there, holding my keys, feeling a mix of tiredness and anger bubble up inside me. “Sure, Maeve.
I’ll get right on that,” I replied, my voice full of sarcasm that she, of course, didn’t notice. That’s when I decided to get clever. If Maeve wanted fancy items, she was going to get them, just not how she thought.
I headed to the store with Maeve’s list in my hand. Fancy wines, gourmet cheeses, exotic fruits, imported chocolates. I chuckled to myself as I pictured the look on her face when she realized what I was up to.
Instead of going to the upscale grocery store, I went straight to the discount aisle. First up, wine. Instead of the fancy, imported bottles Maeve loved to show off, I grabbed the cheapest boxed wine I could find.
It was the kind of wine that made you wince just thinking about it. Next, I went to the cheese section and picked up a pack of processed cheese slices. You know, the kind you put on a kid’s sandwich—definitely not what she had in mind.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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