Dear Prudence,
I pay a fee to a local farm co-op where I pick up a basket of fresh produce every week. There is no picking or choosing beyond allergies, but I end up with bags of fresh produce. More than I can use—even with pet rabbits! I usually take the leftover produce to my work. I end up exchanging recipes and even get zucchini bread back as a thank you.
My problem is my aggressive co-worker, “Kathy.” I feel for Kathy because she is a grandma raising three kids after her daughter, who had a drug problem, died. But Kathy is too entitled. She gets benefits and food stamps for her grandkids, but constantly complains about how hard she has it feeding them. Kathy makes a point to paw through whatever I bring and then just trash-talks everything. Her kids will not eat broccoli, the carrots aren’t chopped up, the tomatoes have spots on them, etc. She will huff and puff and take a few things or complain about how nothing is edible. She never says thank you.
I finally hit my limit when I brought in a bunch of clean, old clothes and blankets because I was remaking my guest room into a room for one of my rabbits. The break room at work is a bit of an informal swap meet. People bring leftover cupcakes, toys their kids have outgrown, or even crafting supplies. As long as it is gone by the end of the day, no one cares. I had already sold the bed and other furniture and was telling another co-worker about the experience when Kathy interrupted and got right in my face.
She started ranting about how I should have thought about her first because her grandbaby needed a bigger bed, and I never brought anything good and was just selfish. I had to step back. I should have shut my mouth, but my anger bubbled over. I asked Kathy why the hell she thought she would be on my radar when I live on the opposite side of town in a third-story walk-up. Was she going to rent a truck and come personally get all the heavy stuff? Kathy told me a good person would have happily delivered it. I told her that I guess I would stop being a good person then, and took the rest of my donations out of the break room and back to my car. Our supervisor got involved and basically shut down the swap meet. Everyone is upset—and a lot of them are mad at me!
According to them, I made a scene by talking back to Kathy and taking my stuff back to the car. Kathy is old. Kathy has it tough. I should just bow my head and take whatever bile she throws at me. I know I am lucky because I am young, healthy, and have no kids, but we all work the same job and make the same salary. I was being kind and got a kick in my face for it. What are my next steps other than offering my leftover produce on NextDoor?
—Got Bitten