
Just when Ashley thought her office life couldn’t get more chaotic, along comes Karen, turning every rule of workplace decorum on its head. With Karen’s disruptive behavior peaking, Ashley plans a birthday surprise that could mend fences or alter office dynamics forever.

A woman sitting around table holding a tablet | Source: Unsplash
Hi everyone, I’m Ashley. I have a story about office life quirks that might sound familiar to many of you. So, buckle up, and don’t hesitate to chime in if you’ve ever found yourself in a similar situation.

Three office workers chatting and laughing | Source: Unsplash
I work at an advertising firm—a place where no two days are the same. Some days crawl by, while others whiz past so fast you barely have time to catch your breath.

A group of cheerful multi-ethnic colleagues having a party after work | Source: Pexels
Last-minute surprises? A regular feature. But despite the chaos, I genuinely enjoy what I do. I’m surrounded by awesome colleagues, and the workplace vibe is top-notch. Well, it was top-notch, until Karen came along.

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Now, I’m all for welcoming new faces. Newcomers stir things up, bring fresh ideas and skills, and generally pump new life into the team. But Karen… well, she’s a different story. It’s not that her work is bad, per se—it’s just that there’s a lot left to be desired, particularly in the ‘attitude’ department.

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So, Karen was quite the character. She had this habit that drove all of us up the wall. Every day after lunch, while the rest of us made sure to clean up our dishes and keep the kitchen tidy, Karen would just leave hers in the sink. Not a care in the world, just her dirty plates piling up.

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And if that weren’t enough to test our patience, her favorite pastime during work hours was napping. But not just any napping. Picture this: Karen, sprawled out in her office chair, legs thrown up on the table, shoes marking the surface with all kinds of dirt. It was a sight.
The snoring was the worst part! It was like having a freight train running through the room. Every. Single. Day.

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But it gets worse. Once a week, we would head to the pool for a relaxing break from the daily grind. Except Karen decided it was the perfect place to… file her feet. Right there in the shower area while we were all around. Gross, right? Super disgusting.

A woman filing her feet | Source: freepik
Then, there was the lunch incident. Imagine sitting at a restaurant, trying to enjoy your meal, and there’s Karen, at the same table, flossing her teeth. Not discreetly, but openly.

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One time, a piece of whatever she had for breakfast shot out and landed smack on my friend’s and my face. We were mortified. That was it. The absolute last straw.

A woman holding a dental floss | Source: freepik
My friend, I, and nearly all our colleagues were fed up. So, we came up with a plan. Karen’s birthday was coming up, and we figured it was the perfect opportunity to clue her in on her less-than-charming habits. It was high time for a lesson, and we were just the folks to deliver it.

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So Karen’s birthday rolls around, and we decide to go all out. The whole department comes together, balloons floating everywhere, a big cake sitting proudly on the table, and of course, a special present just for her.
She walks in, sees the setup, and her face lights up. “Oh, guys, you shouldn’t have…” she exclaims, genuinely surprised.

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As she begins to unwrap her gift, we all gather around, watching eagerly. The moment she pulls off the last piece of wrapping paper, her expression changes dramatically.

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There, in her hands, is a huge poster framed beautifully but the content? Not so beautiful for her. It’s a list of etiquette and hygiene rules we all felt she desperately needed to follow.

A woman unwrapping her birthday gift | Source: Pexels
Her face turned a deep shade of purple as she read the list aloud: ‘Wash your dirty dishes, no sleeping in the office, stop the loud snoring, and please, for the love of God, stop filing your feet in the pool shower area and flossing your teeth at meals.’
The room fell silent for a moment, everyone holding their breath. But we didn’t stop there.

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We made sure these new ‘rules to live by’ were impossible to miss. Each rule was also plastered on the cake and written on each balloon floating around the room. We wanted to make sure our sweet Karen wouldn’t forget them anytime soon.

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The mix of shock and realization on Karen’s face said it all. This birthday, she got a gift that would keep on giving—hopefully, a nudge towards better office etiquette.

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Now, before you jump to conclusions about why we took such a drastic measure when we could have just had a simple chat with Karen—trust me, we tried.

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And not just a casual mention; we really sat down with her and laid it all out, super politely. We told her how her habits were affecting the office atmosphere.

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She nodded, promised to be more considerate, and everything seemed like it was going to be okay. But, alas, nothing changed. It was as if our conversation never happened. So yeah, we went with the drastic step.
Why her birthday, you ask? Well, it’s not a day one easily forgets, right? And we figured it would make the message stick.

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Plus, we made sure to document the whole thing. Pictures, videos—the works. These weren’t just for laughs; they served as a kind of proof, something to remind Karen of her promise in case she slipped back into old habits.
After unveiling the gift, there was a tense moment. Karen was visibly upset, a mix of anger and embarrassment coloring her features.

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She wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with a ‘hygiene intervention’ in front of everyone on her special day. Honestly, it took her a moment, but once the initial shock wore off, she agreed—again—to follow the rules we’d laid out.
This time, though, there was a serious undertone to her agreement. Maybe the public nature of the intervention made the difference.

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What about you? Have you ever dealt with a ‘Karen’ at your workplace? How would you have handled the situation? Would you have done the intervention differently, maybe more privately, or not at all? Drop your thoughts and let’s chat about the wild world of office dynamics. I’m all ears!

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Take a look at another interesting story below:
I Served a Woman Who Mocked Me throughout High School & Finally Got My Revenge after 20 Years
Under the soft glow of the evening lights, the restaurant buzzed with the cheerful din of a successful night. Yet, as I moved between the tables, careful not to bump into any sharp table corners, a familiar and unwelcome face caught my eye—Karen.

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She hadn’t changed at all. Even after 20 years, the same haughty expression adorned her face, a look that had tormented me throughout my school years with her cruel taunts about my lisping and stuttering.
Suddenly, I was taken back to high school where my lisp was at its worst, making me second guess speaking.

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School speeches were the worst part of my entire schooling life, where girls like Karen would begin laughing from behind their hands and end up hanging off their chairs, tears streaming down their faces.
I would escape to the library and spend every free moment there, just to escape the taunts.

Teenagers taking a selfie | Source: Pexels
I remember the one incident where I was clutching my books tightly to my chest, trying to make myself smaller, trying to blend into the gray of the lockers as Karen navigated the sea of students, in her impossibly high heels.
I could feel Karen’s gaze like a spotlight, singling me out from the crowd.

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“There’s Lisp-Lily, boys!” Karen’s voice boomed, drawing a circle of laughter around me.
“Give us a smile and a speech, Lily,” she said. “Show us that stellar s-s-stutter,” she mocked, her words stretching out with malicious exaggeration.

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I remember wanting to cry myself to sleep that night. I sat in the kitchen with my brother, Alex, and I told him all about the events of the day and how Karen had lost it.
“You should give it back to her, Lily,” my brother said, spooning ice cream into a bowl for me.

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“If I could, I would,” I said. “But the moment I open my mouth, you know what happens.”
My brother went off on a tangent about how I should never allow anyone to make me feel less than myself.
“You’ve got to stand up for yourself,” he said.

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And I did. In my own way.
Click here to find out what happened next.
My Friend Didn’t Believe Her Husband Was Cheating, So I Set Up a Scene to Prove It

When her best friend refused to believe her husband was cheating on her, Nancy was determined to open her eyes. She set up a foolproof trap, but as the plan unfolded, Nancy was unprepared for the explosive consequences.
Alright everyone, Nancy here. Ever had that friend, the one who wears rose-colored glasses thicker than a disco ball? Yeah, that’s Melissa. Now, Melissa’s husband, Victor, is the epitome of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Picture perfect husband on the outside, but on the inside… well, let’s just say his loyalty roams free like a stray dog…

For the past year, whispers about Victor’s little “extracurricular activities” had been swirling around town like tumbleweeds in a dusty desert.
Pub crawls with “mystery women,” extra-long “work nights” that ended way too close to sunrise at that sketchy karaoke bar on Elm Street — the signs were all there, neon bright.
But Melissa? Bless her heart, she clung to the fantasy of their “perfect” marriage like a life raft in a hurricane.
At first, it was kind of cute. You know, the “ignorance is bliss” kind of thing.
But seeing Melissa walk on eggshells around Victor, making excuses for his shady behavior, it started to grate on me. The girl was practically begging to get her heart broken!
Enough was enough.

One gloomy Tuesday evening, armed with a bottle of the strongest wine I could find and a heart full of frustration, I marched over to Melissa’s house. You know that feeling when you just gotta lay it all out, consequences be damned? That’s exactly where I was at.
Melissa opened the door with a bright smile that faltered the second she saw my stormy expression.
“Hey Nancy,” she said. “What brings you here?”
I pushed past her, the wine bottle threatening to topple over in my trembling hand. “We need to talk,” I declared.
Melissa’s smile vanished completely, replaced by a flicker of worry. We settled down on the couch, and I launched into my spiel, laying out all the rumors, the suspicious disappearances, the way Victor’s eyes lingered a little too long on other women.
But Melissa wouldn’t budge and tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Nancy,” she sniffled. “Victor would never do anything like that. He loves me.”
My frustration bubbled over. “Loves you?!” I practically shouted. “Love doesn’t involve sneaking around and hiding phone calls! Melissa, wake up and smell the coffee — or maybe the cheap perfume clinging to his clothes!”
That was the final straw. Melissa’s face hardened, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “This is my marriage, Nancy,” she snapped. “If you can’t be supportive, then maybe you should leave.”
My heart sank.

I hadn’t meant to drive a wedge between them, just to open her eyes. But clearly, logic wasn’t winning this battle.
Defeated, I grabbed my abandoned wine and shuffled out, the slam of the door echoing my failure in my ears.
Sitting alone in my apartment, I knew I couldn’t just leave Melissa like that, living in a fool’s paradise. But how could I break through the wall she’d built around her perfect little world?
An idea, crazy and impulsive, sparked in my mind. Maybe I could give Melissa the undeniable PROOF she needed.
With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialed Victor’s number. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a smooth, familiar voice answered.
“Hey Nancy, this is unexpected,” Victor said, a hint of surprise lacing his tone.

Ugh, the nerve of this guy! I steeled myself, channeling my anger into a voice dripping with feigned flirtation.
“Hey Victor,” I purred, “Guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
Silence. I held my breath, willing him to take the bait.
“Well?” I pressed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are you coming…?”
Then, a low chuckle traveled through the phone. My stomach clenched. “Well, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice smooth as silk, “I’m always up for a good time. Tell me more…”
The sound of Victor’s chuckle sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of disgust and a surge of morbid satisfaction. He’d taken the bait. Now came the tricky part.
“Actually,” I interjected, trying to sound casual, “I was thinking of something a little more… discreet.” I could practically hear the question marks forming in his head. Perfect.
“Discreet, huh?” he repeated, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “What did you have in mind?”
I took a deep breath. This was it. “There’s this new upscale pub downtown,” I said, dropping the name of the very same pub he frequented with his “other women.” “Heard it’s got a private room, perfect for a little… celebration.”
A beat of silence followed. Then, a low whistle came through the phone. “Now that’s interesting, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice a touch huskier. “Are you sure about this? You know, Melissa…”
“Don’t worry about Melissa,” I cut him off. “She won’t know a thing… I promise. It’ll be just you and me.”
There was another pause, longer this time. My heart pounded in my chest. Was he suspicious? Had I blown the whole operation?
Finally, Victor spoke. “Alright, Nancy,” he purred. “You’ve convinced me. Just tell me what time, and I’ll be there… in your arms, darling.”
Relief washed over me so strong I almost dropped the phone. He’d agreed! My gamble had paid off. “Great!” I said, forcing a light tone. “I’ll text you the details later. Just make sure you come alone, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Victor chuckled. “See you then, babe.”

With that, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, elation and dread bubbling in my stomach. I’d set the trap, but now what? Would Melissa actually believe me? More importantly, would she be strong enough to face the truth, however ugly it might be?
With a mischievous grin, I fired off a text to Melissa, apologizing profusely for my outburst the other night.
“Ugh, Nancy,” she replied, her message dripping with annoyance. “Can we talk about this later? I’m swamped right now.”
I wasn’t about to give up. I bombarded her with messages, each one brimming with fake remorse and a desperate plea to meet for drinks.
“Come on, Mel,” I texted, “Let’s just grab a quick drink and clear the air. My treat! This Saturday. Please.”
Finally, on Friday afternoon, I received a one-word reply: “Fine.”
Victory! Saturday arrived. Today was the day I’d expose Victor for the lying, cheating weasel he was. I spent hours primping, slipping into the most elegant dress I could find.
Walking into the upscale pub, I felt completely out of my comfort zone.
As promised, Victor was already there, perched at the bar, nursing a drink on the rocks. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Nancy,” he exclaimed, a smooth smile gracing his lips, “you look absolutely… like a goddess.”

I plastered on a sheepish grin. “Thanks, Victor,” I purred, forcing down the wave of disgust rising in my throat. “Mind if I join you?”
He gestured to the empty stool beside him. We settled in, making awkward small talk as the bartender mixed me a drink. Victor kept stealing glances at me, a flicker of suspicion replacing his initial amusement.
“So,” he finally started, his voice laced with curiosity, “what’s with the sudden change of heart, Nancy? You’re usually not one for crowded bars or… well… me.”
Busted. I cleared my throat, mentally scrambling for a convincing story.
“Honestly, Victor,” I confessed, batting my eyelashes for effect, “I’ve been kicking myself ever since the dinner the other night. You were so kind, so attentive… it awakened something in me.”
Victor’s eyebrows shot up. This was it. Time to reel him in.
I leaned closer, “Maybe,” I said, my cheeks burning with shame, “I was a little afraid to act on my feelings before. But hey, life’s too short, right?”
A slow smile spread across Victor’s face. He scanned me from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long on certain curves. I felt a wave of nausea roll through me, but I pushed it down. This was all for Melissa.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my purse. A text from Melissa. My heart raced. “On my way,” it read

I quickly typed out a one-line reply: “Come straight to the bar.” Sliding my phone back into my purse, I took a deep breath.
Just then, the pub door swung open and Melissa walked in.
My cue. I threw my arms around Victor’s neck and leaned in for a kiss. “Kiss me, you fool!” I whispered dramatically.
Victor, clearly flustered, hesitated for a split second before returning the kiss. It was a clumsy, awkward peck, but it was enough. I pulled back, a triumphant smile lighting up my face..

“See, Melissa?” I declared, turning towards my friend.
“This is what I’ve been talking about! Your husband’s a complete jerk!”
The smile vanished from Melissa’s face, replaced by a mask of shock and sheer disbelief. Victor, however, sputtered to his feet, his face flushed crimson.
“Melissa, honey,” he stammered, “it’s not what it looks like! She’s the one who—”
“Don’t even try to lie your way out of this, Victor!” I cut him off, relishing the momentary power shift. “The jig is up!”
But before I could launch into a full-blown exposé, Victor whipped out his phone. A sickening feeling of dread crept into my stomach. He pressed a button, and a voice filled the air — my voice. Crystal clear, unmistakable.
“Hey Victor,” the voice purred, “guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
My blood ran cold.
The voice on the phone was mine, the exact words I’d used to set the trap. Victor had recorded our conversation. I was caught, my elaborate plan backfiring spectacularly.
“See, honey,” Victor finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity, “I told you she was the one coming on to me. I’m innocent. I just came here for a drink. It was all her.”
Melissa’s face contorted with anger and confusion. She looked between me and Victor, her gaze lingering on the phone in his hand. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating.
“NANCY,” Melissa yelled, “is this… TRUE??”
My throat constricted. I wanted to scream, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
The weight of my actions pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. Shame burned in my cheeks, hotter than any cocktail I’d ever tasted.
“I…” I stammered. “I just… I wanted you to see—”
“See what?” Melissa cut me off, her voice rising.
“See you ruin my marriage with your lies and accusations? You almost made me throw away the best thing that ever happened to me, all on the basis of some twisted suspicion!”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “You call yourself my best friend? This is how you treat me?”

I opened my mouth to apologize, but the words died in my throat. Melissa was right. My misguided attempt at helping had backfired spectacularly. I’d hurt her, betrayed her trust, and all for nothing.
Victor, sensing his advantage, placed a comforting hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “There, there, honey,” he murmured. “Don’t listen to her. She’s clearly jealous of what we have.”
Melissa shot him a watery smile, leaning into his touch. My stomach churned. Had I been so blinded by my suspicion that I’d missed the genuine affection between them? Or was Victor that good of an actor?
“Get out of my life, Nancy,” Melissa yelled. “And don’t you ever contact me again.”
There was no denying the finality in her voice. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Melissa stumble out of the bar with Victor in tow.
A week had passed since that fateful night. The silence from Melissa was deafening. My calls went unanswered, my texts left on read. Social media confirmed my worst fear — I was blocked.
Sitting alone in my apartment, replaying the scene over and over in my head, I felt a wave of self-loathing wash over me. I’d messed up, royally.
So, am I wrong? The answer, unfortunately, is clear. Yes. Yes, I was wrong. Dead wrong.
My intentions, while misguided, may have stemmed from a place of care. But the way I went about it? A complete disaster.
You know, I get it. Looking back, my whole plan to expose Victor was a dumpster fire wrapped in a trainwreck. But honestly, do you think I was the villain here? Sure, I messed up, big time. But Melissa deserved to know the truth, right? Or was I way out of line for meddling? Hit me with your thoughts.

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