Ever notice how the worst people always have children they can use as human shields? There you are, minding your own business, when suddenly Brenda from the fry station needs "just a little help" for her precious offspring, and two weeks later, you're $40 poorer with nothing but empty promises filling your wallet. It's the perfect microcosm of our meaningless existence—trust extended into the void, only to be met with the inevitable disappointment that is human connection.
For context, my coworker (36F) borrowed $40 from me (18F). I let her, since she mentioned it was for her children. For two weeks straight, she repeatedly would tell me she would pay me back the next day (which she did not).
A few days ago, I was in the takeaway room (for context, I work at a chain restaurant as a hostess) and a few people in there were talking about their experiences with lending her money. I proceeded to tell them mine, which made another coworker angry enough to take it to management.
I ended up being paid back due to management saying something. The issue is, and where I may be the asshole, is that she actually told me not to tell anyone nor take it to management. Now, she is telling people that I am lying, so I don't know what to do. Am I the asshole?
P.S.: This may be unimportant, but she has made several remarks about my anxiety and a few about my appearance. I remember when I trusted her more, I told her about a crush I had, and she proceeded to tell everyone there, including him, about it.
Ever notice how the worst people always have children they can use as human shields? There you are, minding your own business, when suddenly Brenda from the fry station needs "just a little help" for her precious offspring, and two weeks later, you're $40 poorer with nothing but empty promises filling your wallet. It's the perfect microcosm of our meaningless existence—trust extended into the void, only to be met with the inevitable disappointment that is human connection.
The Festering Wound of Analysis
The exquisite futility of this situation deserves proper dissection. An 18-year-old—barely out of childhood herself—extends financial mercy to a 36-year-old adult who should have her shit figured out by now. It's like watching a baby gazelle offer life coaching to a hyena. What magnificent self-deception this older woman must possess, constructing elaborate daily fictions about tomorrow's payment that never materializes, all while believing her own bullshit with the conviction of a televangelist counting donation money.
The cosmic joke intensifies when our young protagonist discovers she's merely the latest sucker in a long conga line of financial victims. The restaurant's takeaway room transforms into a support group for the fiscally violated—a pathetic gathering of souls united only by their shared experience of being financially fucked by the same predator. How goddamn predictable that humans would find solidarity in this shared misery, like rats huddling together in a sinking ship, congratulating themselves on their community spirit.
And then—oh, the fucking audacity—this debt-dodging harpy has the balls to get upset when her scam gets exposed! "Don't tell anyone," she commands, as if secrecy is the sacred obligation of the victim rather than the perpetrator. It's the same logic that powers every corrupt institution from Wall Street to the Vatican—"your silence is the real loyalty." What magnificent horseshit.
The real masterpiece of human depravity comes in the betrayal epilogue. Our young hostess once trusted this woman with personal information—the currency of adolescent vulnerability—only to have it broadcast like breaking news. It's like watching someone hand their heart to a wood chipper and acting surprised when it comes out as pulp. The crushing predictability of this betrayal is what makes it truly art—Chekhov's gun but with emotional damage instead of bullets.
The Soul-Crushing Point
In the end, what have we witnessed but another dreary cycle in the endless loop of human disappointment? Management steps in, money changes hands, but the damage is already done. Trust, that foolish construct we cling to like drowning men to driftwood, has been predictably shattered. The older woman now spreads lies like a farmer sowing seeds, ensuring a future harvest of doubt and suspicion for our protagonist.
The existential punchline isn't that some people are assholes—it's that we keep expecting them not to be, like Charlie Brown eternally believing Lucy won't pull away the football. We're all just temporary arrangements of atoms desperately seeking meaning in a universe that offers none, occasionally lending each other $40 and acting shocked when it doesn't work out.
For Those Too Stupid to Get It 🙄
Teen lends money to older coworker who promised to pay it back 🤥. Teen discovers she's one of many victims 😱. Management forces repayment 💰. Older coworker gets mad and spreads lies 🐍. Bonus: Same coworker previously exposed teen's crush to everyone 💔. Moral of the story: People are walking garbage fires, and expecting otherwise makes you the fool 🤡. But you'll keep doing it anyway because the alternative is admitting how truly alone you are in this cold, indifferent universe. Sweet dreams! 😘
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