Have you ever been in a situation where you weren’t happy with a purchase and wanted a refund or some form of satisfaction? Well, a young man experienced just that, and it’s humorously recounted in a story. When he agreed to spend the night with a woman for $500, he found himself dissatisfied and decided to take action.
Life doesn’t always go as planned, and sometimes, our attempts to rectify a situation can lead to unexpected surprises. This man in the story learned this lesson when he received a response to his letter.
Ayoung man met a beautiful girl and agreed to spend the night with her for $500.
So they did. Before he left, he told her that he did not have any cash with him, but that he would have his secretary write a check and mail it to her, calling the payment
“RENT FOR APARTMENT.”
On the way to his office, he regretted it and decided it wasn’t worth the price. So, he had his secretary send a check for $250 and enclosed the following note:
“Dear Madam,
Enclosed, find a check in the amount of $250 for rent of your apartment. I am not sending the amount agreed upon because when I rented the apartment I was under the impression that:
It had never been occupied
That there was plenty of heat
That it was small enough to make me cozy and feel at home.
Last night, however, I found it had been previously occupied, that there was no heat, and it was entirely too large.”
Upon receipt of the note, the girl immediately returned the check for $250 with the following note:
Dear Sir, first of all, I cannot understand how you expect a beautiful apartment to remain unoccupied indefinitely.
As for the heat, there is heat if you know how to turn it on.
Regarding the space, the apartment is, indeed, of regular size, but if you don’t have enough furniture to fill it, please don’t blame the landlady!
Please be so kind as to send a check for the full amount of $500, or I’ll be forced to contact your current landlady.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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