Table of Contents
Case No. 1
We needed a shelf of a specific size. But they don’t sell those. There are some that are wider, shorter, or taller. Then I find the exact shelf on a second-hand site. Even two of them. And both for 20 euros. I make arrangements. I ask the owner to take it apart. He replies that he will help me disassemble it. Alright then.
I grab the screwdriver, my wife, and the dog, and head to the place. The owner greets me, but the homeowner is not there. I take a look and see that the shelf is screwed together not with screws, but with bolts, and my screwdriver doesn’t fit at all. I need socket wrenches. Well, since Nastya is no longer watching the dog, she helps me unscrew everything. There are 8 bolts for each shelf, a total of 8 shelves, plus 16 bolts for vertical mounting, which makes 80 bolts in total. At half a minute per bolt—that’s half an hour for both of us.
I see later that he gave me three out of five. I think, well, the dog must have crapped in his garden while we were moving the cabinet. And sure enough, after a while, I get an angry message. Blah blah blah, keep an eye on your dog, here are some pictures of the poop in my garage. Yeah, the garage is definitely over the top.
I told him that if my wife had been watching the dog and you had helped promote it, there wouldn’t have been a problem. But my wife was busy with the cabinet, and you were nowhere to be found, even though you promised. Everything has a cause and effect. And in general, a good practice in such cases is not to hold up the buyer and to spend time preparing the product for shipping instead of sending out useless messages and placing spiteful stars. Of course, I was told in response that I was no better than my dog and all that. What pleased me was realizing that the person was really in a bad place.
The question is, who is right here? Who knows? He thinks he is (and I’m the jerk and the cheapskate). I think I am (and he’s a jerk without being a cheapskate).
Case No. 2
I’m walking home from work along a boulevard that ends with fountains, their surfaces level with the asphalt. The boulevard path seems to run right through the water’s surface. That was the intention. But what we ended up with are huge puddles in the middle of the street.
In front of me, a short man is walking with a huge Great Dane on a short leash, exuding an air of pomp. The dog seems to have been bought to emphasize its owner’s masculinity. Suddenly, a scooter rider zooms past me and then the man at high speed. The dog gets startled and takes two steps after the scooter, but the leash won’t allow it to go any further. The scooter rider, in turn, is also frightened by the lunging dog, as his cultural background hasn’t taught him the basics of dog behavior. He swerves the handlebars and ends up crashing into a fountain. The scooter stumbles, and the guy splashes into the fountain.
The scooter rider is shouting, fidgeting, and running to take a picture of the owner of the Great Dane with his phone. He’s yelling that he’ll call the police. The Black and Arab guys sitting nearby are laughing. The dog owners in the adjacent dog park are watching silently but sympathizing with the Great Dane.
The question is, who is right here? Who knows? The Arab kid on the scooter thinks he is. After all, the dog on the too-long leash darted towards him, causing him to fall. The owner of the Great Dane, on the other hand, understands that the kid on the scooter, riding on the sidewalk at 30 km/h, can’t really demand anything and is eagerly awaiting the promised police.