Jane can’t believe her neighbor’s nerve, sneaking into the laundry room to steal her detergent and ruin her clean clothes. Every week, she finds her laundry on the floor, wet and dirty. Determined to teach her a lesson, Jane devises a plan that will make her neighbor think twice before messing with her again.
It all started with the detergent. I live in an apartment complex with a shared laundry room, and for the most part, things have been fine. Sure, there have been minor issues with neighbors now and then, but nothing serious. That all changed when Bryony moved in.
At first, it was just little annoyances. I noticed my detergent disappearing much faster than it should. I chalked it up to my imagination or perhaps being more generous with my loads.
But then, the disappearances became too frequent to ignore.
One day, I found my newly washed clothes strewn across the floor, wet and dirty. I felt a gnawing sense of violation, but I tried to convince myself it was a mistake.
Then, one afternoon, I walked into the laundry room and froze. Bryony stood there with my bottle of detergent, a smirk playing on her lips as she poured it into her machine!
I was shocked.
“Hey, Bryony, that’s my detergent you’re using,” I said, my voice shaking with restrained fury.
She looked up, her smile widening, and said, “Oh, sorry, Jane. I thought it was free for everyone to use.”
Her audacity left me momentarily speechless. “No, it’s not. We each bring our own supplies!” I finally managed to say, trying to keep my composure.
Bryony shrugged and put the detergent back on the shelf with exaggerated nonchalance. “Whatever, Jane. No need to make a fuss.”
I could feel a surge of anger rising, but I forced myself to stay calm. “It’s not just about the detergent. My laundry has been thrown out of the machines, too. Do you know anything about that?” I asked.
She gave me an innocent look that didn’t fool me for a second. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jane,” she said.
Her blatant lies and lack of remorse made my blood boil. I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my cool. “Fine,” I muttered, turning away. But I knew I couldn’t let it go.
A few days later, I walked into the laundry room to find Bryony rifling through my freshly washed clothes. My patience snapped.
“Bryony! What do you think you’re doing with my clothes?” I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.
She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she smirked at me, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Oh, just checking if you left any quarters in the pockets,” she said with a mocking tone, and then she walked out, leaving her own laundry behind.
I stood there, seething with anger, my heart pounding in my ears. How could she be so brazen and disrespectful?
My mind raced with thoughts of retaliation, but I knew I had to be smart about it. Bryony had pushed me too far, and it was time to take a stand.
Over the next few days, I paid more attention to Bryony’s laundry habits. She had a predictable routine: always doing her laundry right after me, using my detergent, and tossing my clothes out of the machine.
I knew I had to come up with a plan, something that would teach her a lesson without getting myself into trouble.
Soon, an idea began to form. I went to the local store and bought a bottle of bleach that looked very similar to my usual detergent bottle.
Back home, I carefully replaced the detergent with bleach, making sure it looked convincing. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I knew Bryony would strike again, and this time, I was ready.
The next day, after finishing my laundry, I left the “detergent” bottle in my usual spot in the laundry room. I pretended to leave but doubled back and hid around the corner. Sure enough, Bryony came in right after me, just as I expected.
I peeked around the corner and watched her. She grabbed the bottle, smirked, and poured a generous amount into her machine. She clearly thought she was getting away with it again.
As Bryony started her machine, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and nerves. Won’t you just love your clothes after they are washed, Bryony? I thought, smiling to myself.
This was risky, but she had pushed me too far. I waited until she left, then I went in and peeked at her washing machine. The bleach was already working its magic.
I walked away and waited for about half an hour before heading back to the laundry room. When I walked in, Bryony was just pulling her clothes out of the washer. The look on her face was priceless!
Her once bright clothes were now various shades of bleach-stained horror. She looked like she was about to cry.
“Having some trouble, Bryony?” I asked, barely containing my satisfaction.
She glared at me, her eyes filled with anger and confusion. Before she could say anything, I added, “You know, it’s really rude to use someone else’s detergent and throw their clean laundry on the floor. Karma’s a real eye-opener, isn’t it?”
Bryony’s face flushed red with fury and embarrassment. She stormed out, leaving her ruined clothes behind. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
But I knew Bryony was the type to retaliate, so I needed to ensure she couldn’t cause more trouble.
Back in my apartment, I reviewed the footage from the security cameras I had installed in the laundry room a few weeks ago, unbeknownst to most of the tenants. The videos clearly showed Bryony stealing my detergent and tossing my laundry on the floor. It was all there, undeniable proof.
I compiled the clips and sent them to our building manager, Ava, along with a detailed complaint.
“Ava, this footage clearly shows Bryony stealing my detergent and deliberately ruining my laundry,” I wrote. “This behavior is unacceptable and needs to be addressed immediately…”
As I hit send, a wave of relief washed over me.
Later that evening, Ava called me. “Jane, I’ve reviewed the footage. This behavior is unacceptable. I’ll be having a serious talk with Bryony and taking appropriate action.”
“Thank you, Ava,” I said, feeling a sense of justice. “I just want to do my laundry in peace.”
“You will, Jane. We won’t tolerate this kind of behavior here,” she assured me.
Turns out I wasn’t the only one who had issues with Bryony. She had already had a few complaints against her for being a general nuisance, but this was the final straw. Ava decided it was time for action.
“Bryony has to go,” she told me when I met her at her office later. “She’ll be given a notice to vacate the premises within 30 days.”
Hearing this, I felt a sense of justice. But I wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly why Bryony was being kicked out. I posted a detailed account of her behavior on our community board, complete with screenshots from the security footage.
The next day, as I walked through the hallway, I noticed a small crowd gathered around the board. Kierra, my friend and neighbor, turned to me, her eyes wide with shock.
“Jane, I can’t believe this. Bryony did all that?” she exclaimed.
“Yes, she did,” I replied. “And now everyone knows the truth.”
The other tenants were horrified and grateful that someone had finally taken action against Bryony. It felt good to see their reactions, knowing I had done the right thing.
Bryony moved out, humiliated and without the chance to steal from or harass anyone else in our building. The laundry room had been peaceful ever since. I no longer had issues with missing detergent or trashed laundry. It was a relief to have my life back to normal.
So, to Bryony, if she is reading this, I hope you learned your lesson. Maybe next time, you will think twice before messing with someone else’s stuff. And to my fellow tenants, I advise you to keep an eye out — you never know who’s watching.
