My brother recently arranged for me to go on a date with his friend Stewart, which ended up being a disaster. We found ourselves stuck at a fancy restaurant with an unpaid bill, and as the manager threatened to call the police, I realized the extent of Adam’s plan. I was left wondering how we were going to get out of this mess.
“You need to meet this guy, Jess,” Adam said, his face lit up as if he had just discovered something amazing. He was comfortably settled on my couch, channel surfing.
“Who are you talking about?” I asked, still focused on my laptop.
“Stewart. He works with me. He’s a great guy. Solid job, nice car, the whole package.”
rolled my eyes. “Is this another one of your setups?”
“No, seriously! He’s different. You’ll really like him. And he’s been asking about you.”
I sighed, skeptical due to Adam’s bad track record with setups, but his enthusiasm about Stewart made me curious. “Alright, but if this goes poorly, I’m not going to trust your setups anymore.”
Adam smirked. “Deal. You’ll thank me later, trust me.”
I spent the next few hours preparing carefully, wanting to make a good impression despite my reservations. By the time I was ready, my apartment was a mess from all the makeup and clothes. Despite my anxiety, Adam’s encouragement kept me going.
Stewart arrived in a shiny new sedan. As I got in, I couldn’t help but notice the car’s clean leather smell and the smooth hum of the engine.
“Hi, Jess?” he greeted me with a genuinely warm smile.
“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you, Stewart.”
“Likewise. You look great, by the way.”
I blushed, feeling a bit more at ease. “Thanks. So, where are we heading?”
“I thought we could try this new place downtown. It’s fancy, but the food is amazing.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, surprised by the upscale choice.
I Incurred a $500 Fine When My Neighbor Falsely Accused My Son of Her Toddler’s Hallway Scribbles — I Couldn’t Let It Go
Caitlin often found herself informally supervising her neighbor Stacy’s young son, Nate, providing him some stability while his mom sought time for herself. However, when Nate decorated the hallway walls with doodles during Caitlin’s absence, she was unjustly slapped with a $500 fine. Determined to set things right, Caitlin devised a plan for retribution.
Stacy had become accustomed to letting her young son, Nate, roam the hallway as a play area.
“It’s safe, Caitlin,” she’d assure me. “Plus, it’s their version of outdoor play.”
She would then retreat behind her door, leaving Nate to his devices, often while she entertained guests.
“I just need some downtime,” she confessed to me once in the laundry room. “I’m a grown woman with needs, you know. Being a single mom, you must get it.”
I understood her need for personal space, but I could never imagine letting my own son, Jackson, wander the hallways alone. Despite our general familiarity with the neighbors, the corridors didn’t feel completely secure.
Jackson, slightly older than Nate, seemed concerned about the younger boy, who often loitered alone, clutching his tattered teddy bear.
“Mom,” Jackson would say during his playtime, “maybe we should invite him over.”
Grateful for my son’s compassion, I agreed. It was better to keep both children within sight, ensuring their safety.
Thus, we began having Nate over for snacks, toys, and movies—a simple arrangement that brought him noticeable joy.
“He mentioned he likes playing with others,” Jackson noted one day. “I don’t think his mom spends much time with him.”
And interestingly, Stacy hardly acknowledged this setup. Once she realized Nate was safe with us, she seemed to extend her leisure time even more.
Eventually, it became routine for Nate to knock on our door whenever his mother let him out.
“Hello,” he’d say, teddy in hand. “I’m here to play.”
However, one day, we were away at my parents’ house for my mom’s birthday.
“I hope Nate will be okay,” Jackson expressed concern as we drove.
“Oh, honey,” I responded. “His mom is there. She’s responsible for his safety too.”
Upon our return, we were greeted by hallway walls covered in childish drawings—a colorful chaos of stick figures and squiggles.
“Nate must have had fun,” I remarked, searching for my keys.
“Isn’t he going to be in trouble?” Jackson asked, eyeing the artwork.
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