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Image is representative only and does not depict the actual subjects of the story.
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Not that I think entitlement is a reasonable thing to feel in general but in this story, it’s really something else. I mean, I can’t even imagine how i’d react if a person I share an office with would treat me like I owe him. I can only assume, after I bring my body temperature back down and paint my forehead skin color instead of the boiling, bright, hot-hot red. I would probably cry laughing,
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It’s not laziness exactly, it’s a deeper art form. The kind that thrives on low‑effort chaos. She created problems like a magician pulling scarves from a sleeve, each one softer but somehow louder than the last. Everything was minor, but it was constant. People like that rely on inconvenience as a bonding method. If everyone is busy solving their daily crisis, no one has a moment to notice how little they actually do.
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Image is representative only and does not depict the actual subjects of the story.
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What makes her behavior so ridiculous is how casually she assumed the world would bend around it. Calling a colleague mid‑vacation to ask for a ride home takes a special kind of delusion. That’s not audacity, that’s world‑building. The type of confidence that only comes from never being told no. Blocking her number was the only real way to restore physics to that relationship.
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This kind of entitlement isn’t loud or cruel, it’s quietly parasitic. It feeds on the goodwill of reasonable people until they burn out on politeness. Eventually, someone decides the performance isn’t worth the ticket price. The sister did what every overworked employee dreams of doing. She stopped participating in someone else’s storyline and went back to lunch
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