How I Silently Punished My Insufferable Flatmate’s Arrogance During WFH
Lockdown was tough for everyone, but for me, sharing a flat in Bangalore made it a special kind of hell. It wasn't just the confined space; it was my flatmate, let's call him Rahul. He worked for a big tech MNC, and his entire personality was wrapped around his "superior package" and "future promotions." Every single conversation, from morning chai to late-night Maggi, would inevitably circle back to how he was the highest earner amongst us four, how "settled" he was, and how we should "aspire higher" like him. His taunts, disguised as guidance, slowly chipped away at my self-esteem.
WFH meant there was no escaping his constant bragging. His "easy" job, as he'd repeatedly remind us, involved endless video calls, which he'd often take loudly, discussing his "stellar performance." My blood would boil listening to him. I felt small, inadequate, my own anxieties about my career amplified by his relentless comparisons.
One evening, after another session of him gloating about his "effortless" work and mocking our struggles, a petty idea sparked. I was the one who'd set up our Wi-Fi router. It was simple enough to access its settings. I began subtly throttling his bandwidth, just enough to make his "easy" WFH life a frustrating mess. His video calls would buffer, presentations would lag, and downloads would crawl. He'd curse the internet provider, complain about "network issues," but never once suspect the quiet flatmate across the hall.
It was a small, almost undetectable act of sabotage, I admit. But watching him sweat, seeing his smug face contort in frustration as his precious internet faltered, gave me an inexplicable, guilty satisfaction. It was my tiny, silent rebellion against his suffocating arrogance, a secret power trip during a time when I felt utterly helpless. I know it was petty, but I don't regret it.
Anonymous confession. Share yours at Tell It There.
