I’m Gavin, living with my wife Becca and our two kids in a quiet apartment building — mostly quiet, except for Marge in 3B. She constantly acts like she runs the place, leaving petty notes about our kids’ noise or scolding my wife for small things, like shaking a towel on our balcony. Her complaints seemed endless.
It got worse when our daughter Ava tripped on Marge’s plant stand cluttering the hallway. Instead of apologizing, Marge blamed Ava. Soon after, she knocked on our door at 7 p.m. demanding we stop doing laundry because it was “too loud.” We were getting fed up with her unreasonable behavior.
One day, after returning from the mall, Marge deliberately boxed in our car and shouted for us to hurry up. Instead, I calmly locked the car, grabbed my family, and we went back to the mall to enjoy dinner. It wasn’t about the parking anymore — we were sending a clear message that we wouldn’t be bullied.
A few weeks later, I saw Marge outside with a lonely takeout bag. When I told her that her behavior scared our kids, she quietly admitted, “It’s lonely, ordering Indian food for one,” and walked away. For the first time, I realized her bitterness may have come from loneliness. Maybe our small stand had made her reflect on her actions.