This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?

It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.

I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

Thanks for ruining my day.

“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:

Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.

A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.

“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”

“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”

The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.

Call me regarding the payment.

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

Paul called me later that evening.

“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”

“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.

After that, the pranks escalated quickly.

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”

“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.

“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.

The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”

“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.

It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.

“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.

“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”

We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”

“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.

Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?

I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.

“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”

Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?

What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?

Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”

He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.

“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.

“What’s that been like?” I asked.

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”

“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.

“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.

By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

Paul’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”

The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.

“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.

I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.

What would you have done?

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I SURPRISED MY LONG-DISTANCE BOYFRIEND—IT WAS A TOTAL DISASTER

After my husband left me, I found it hard to start over at 41. Feeling lonely and ready to find love again, I decided to join a dating site. There, I met a charming man named Juan. Hoping for a fresh start, I decided to surprise him by traveling to Mexico. But it turned out to be a huge mistake.

My name is Lily, and I’m 41 years old. After twenty years of marriage, my husband left me, and I was lost. Since I had married young, I didn’t have much experience with dating or making new friends.

I felt isolated and rarely went out. Finding love at my age seemed almost impossible. So, I took a chance and went on a dating site, hoping to change my life.

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In my desperation, I signed up for a dating site and began talking to a charming man from Mexico named Juan. He was so confident and charming that I could hardly believe he was real. Our online conversations soon turned into something more serious.

As our connection grew, Juan started inviting me to visit him in Mexico. I was nervous at first. What if he wasn’t who he appeared to be? What if this was just another path to disappointment?

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But the loneliness of my daily routine made me want to take a chance. I decided to surprise Juan by arriving in Mexico without telling him.

I packed for a few weeks, bought my plane tickets, and set off on my journey. I was extremely nervous, unsure if he would be the same person in real life as he was online. But I needed to try; it felt like my last shot at finding happiness.

As I boarded the plane, my heart raced with excitement and anxiety. The flight seemed endless as I kept thinking about Juan. Would he be as charming in person? Would he be happy to see me? I tried to calm myself, reminding myself that this was a chance for a fresh start.

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Reaching Juan was harder than I expected because he lived in a small town far from the airport. The trip was long and exhausting. After landing, I had to find a taxi to get me to his town.

The taxi driver kept shouting, “Where!? Where!?” because he didn’t understand me. My frustration grew, so I quickly pulled out my phone and showed him the address.

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“See? Right here, I need you to take me to this town. How much?” I asked the driver.

“Good, good, let’s go!” he replied, finally understanding.

Traveling had always been a challenge for me, and I often struggled to communicate and had bad luck. But this time, I felt hopeful and determined. The drive was long and seemed endless, taking me through narrow, unfamiliar roads. I watched as the city’s hustle and bustle gave way to the quieter, rural landscapes.

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The further we drove, the more anxious I became. I couldn’t shake the worry that I might be making a huge mistake. But I pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself that I was here to take a chance on happiness.

Finally, the taxi pulled up to a small apartment building. I paid the driver and stepped out, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. As I walked toward the building, I saw Juan just entering his apartment.

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“Juan! Surprise!” I called out as I rushed toward him, eager to see his reaction.

At first, he looked startled, and I felt a pang of worry that maybe he wasn’t pleased to see me. But then, his face lit up with a smile, and my heart eased with relief.

“Oh, it’s you! I wasn’t expecting you! Why didn’t you text me about your visit?” Juan asked, looking surprised.

“I’m sorry, I thought you would be happy to see me, Juan. You look even better in person!” I replied, trying to keep things positive.

“Yeah! You too… Lucy…” he said, pausing for a moment.

“It’s Lily,” I corrected him, feeling a twinge of disappointment. He couldn’t even remember my name—maybe that should have been my first clue.

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“Lily! Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry, sometimes American names can be confusing to me,” Juan said, trying to smooth over his mistake.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he was still handsome, and his accent was charming.

He invited me into his apartment, and we settled in to talk. The conversation was easy and enjoyable. We laughed and shared stories, feeling as if we’d known each other for years.

As the evening went on, we opened a bottle of wine. With each sip, my nerves began to melt away. Juan was charming and attentive, and I found myself enjoying his company more than I had expected.

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Juan nodded in understanding. “Of course, Lily. I’m glad you’re here. You can use the guest room.”

He showed me to the guest room, which was cozy and inviting. I thanked him and settled in, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about what the next day would bring. As I drifted off to sleep, I hoped that this leap of faith would lead to something wonderful.

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I looked around, trying to piece together what had happened. The realization hit me hard: I had been robbed. My heart raced as panic set in. How did I end up outside? I struggled to remember the details of the previous night, but it was all a blur.

I stumbled to my feet, trying to gather my thoughts. I had no idea where Juan was or how to reach him. I needed to find help, but my only option was to walk to the nearest public place.

As I wandered, I saw a small café and went inside, hoping to use their phone to contact the police or anyone who could assist me. My clothes were disheveled, and I must have looked a mess. The barista noticed my distress and offered me a seat.

“Are you okay, miss?” she asked gently.

“I… I’ve been robbed,” I managed to say, feeling tears well up. “I need to call someone.”

She handed me the phone, and I dialed the local police, giving them my location and explaining what had happened. They assured me they would send someone to help.

Sitting there, waiting for assistance, I felt a mix of shame, fear, and disappointment. I had come all this way, hoping for a fresh start, only to end up in such a dire situation.

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Desperation took over as I watched people move past, their lives seemingly unaffected by my plight. I felt isolated and overwhelmed, with no way to break through the barrier of language and cultural differences.

Finally, a kind-hearted woman noticed my distress. She approached me with a concerned look and spoke to me in broken English.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently.

I nodded, trying to keep my composure. “I’ve been robbed. I don’t know what to do.”

She quickly grasped the severity of the situation and took out her phone, calling the police for me. While we waited, she offered me a warm drink from the café, which helped soothe my nerves.

The police arrived soon after, and I tried my best to explain what had happened. They were patient and sympathetic, taking down the details and promising to help me.

As they worked on getting me the assistance I needed, I felt a flicker of relief. Though the situation was dire, the kindness of a stranger made me realize that there was still hope, even in the darkest moments.

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The man nodded sympathetically and offered me a comforting smile. “I can help. My name is Carlos. I work at the restaurant nearby. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe and call the police.”

He led me to the restaurant, which was a small, cozy place with a warm atmosphere. Inside, he made me comfortable at a table and brought me a cup of coffee. It wasn’t much, but it was a small gesture of kindness that meant a lot.

Carlos used the restaurant’s phone to contact the police and explained the situation. He also offered to help me reach the embassy or consulate for additional support. As he spoke on the phone, he reassured me that everything would be okay.

While waiting for the police, Carlos and I chatted a bit. He was kind and understanding, and his presence helped ease some of my anxiety. When the authorities arrived, they took my statement and began investigating, with Carlos translating where necessary.

Thanks to Carlos’s help, I finally felt like I wasn’t entirely alone in this unfamiliar place. His kindness was a lifeline in my moment of crisis, showing me that even in difficult situations, there are people willing to extend a helping hand.

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When I emerged from the restroom, Miguel had set up a small table with a warm meal. He gestured for me to sit, and I did, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. The food was simple but delicious – a comforting bowl of soup and some fresh bread.

As I ate, Miguel sat across from me, keeping a watchful eye. He spoke to me softly, his English broken but sincere. “You okay now?” he asked.

I nodded, taking another bite. “Yes, thank you. I feel a lot better. I can’t believe how kind you’ve been.”

Miguel smiled, though his eyes still showed concern. “You need help. I help. Don’t worry. We find your things.”

After I finished eating, Miguel made a call to the local authorities and to my embassy, explaining my situation and asking for assistance. He kept me informed and reassured me that things would get better.

With Miguel’s support, I started to feel a sense of stability. Although I was still shaken, his help made me feel like there was a way out of this nightmare. For the first time since waking up on the street, I felt a glimmer of hope that everything would be okay.

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As I ate, I noticed that Miguel’s kindness was more than just about providing food. His genuine concern made me feel a little safer. The warm meal and hot coffee were comforting, and each bite seemed to help me regain a bit of my strength.

After finishing, Miguel handed me his phone, allowing me to call the local authorities and my embassy. I was still shaken but felt more hopeful with each passing minute.

Miguel sat nearby, ready to help in any way he could. With his support, I managed to contact the necessary services and start working on getting my belongings back and making arrangements to return home.

His simple act of kindness turned a terrifying situation into one where I felt I could start to recover and rebuild.

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As I finished eating, I reflected on everything that had led me to this point. Juan, who had seemed so charming and perfect online, turned out to be a far cry from what I had hoped for. It was a hard pill to swallow, realizing he wasn’t who he seemed to be.

Despite the pain, Miguel’s unexpected kindness was a bright spot in an otherwise dark situation. His help reminded me that even when things go wrong, there are still good people out there who can make a difference. It gave me hope that maybe, someday, I would find what I was looking for and that not everyone would let me down.

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When I looked out into the hall, I was shocked to see Juan in the distance. He was with another woman, laughing and chatting as if nothing had ever happened between us.

My heart pounded with a mix of anger and betrayal. How could he just move on so easily after what he had done to me? The sight of him enjoying himself with someone new was a painful reminder of how deeply he had hurt me.

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Miguel studied the drawing and then glanced back at Juan, who was still with the new woman. Understanding began to dawn on him. He nodded and then motioned for me to wait.

“I’ll help,” Miguel said, his voice calm but determined. He walked out of the restaurant, approaching Juan with a serious expression.

I watched from the doorway, my heart racing. I saw Miguel talk to Juan, and Juan’s face changed from laughter to shock. Miguel pointed in my direction, and Juan’s gaze met mine. The confrontation was intense, but I could see that Juan was visibly uncomfortable.

Miguel returned to me and said, “Juan says he didn’t take anything. But we need to call police. I help you.”

With Miguel’s help, I managed to use his phone to call the police. As I waited, I felt a mix of relief and anxiety. I hoped that justice would be served and that I could finally find some resolution to this distressing situation.

Miguel’s eyes widened as I approached, the phone clutched tightly in my hand. He looked at me with a mix of surprise and concern.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling. I handed the phone to him, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “Can you call the police now?”

Miguel nodded, quickly taking out his phone and dialing the number. He spoke in Spanish, explaining the situation as best as he could. I waited anxiously, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Juan didn’t notice what had happened.

Once Miguel finished the call, he looked at me reassuringly. “Police come soon,” he said. “We… stay here, okay?”

I nodded, grateful for his help. “Thank you so much, Miguel. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Miguel gave me a comforting smile and patted my shoulder. “No problem. We help.”

As we waited for the police, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—relief, anger, and gratitude. Despite the chaos, I was thankful for Miguel’s kindness and support.

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Miguel’s kindness truly made a difference in Lily’s challenging situation, showing that even in tough times, there are people who genuinely care and help. His support provided Lily with the strength and hope she needed to face her difficulties. If you’ve been moved by this story, share it with your friends—it might inspire them and bring a smile to their day.

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