You know that one spot? The one right by the entrance to the office?
I don’t think anyone’s officially claimed it, but after seven months of waddling around with swollen ankles and an aching back, it’s kind of become ‘my’ spot.
I’m not asking for much—just a few extra steps shaved off my morning commute from the parking lot to the front door.
I thought we had an unspoken agreement. I park there because, well, I need it more than the rest of them.
It was sort of an unspoken thing. Everyone in the office being mindful of my pregnancy.
Well… almost everyone.
Today was different.
I pulled into the parking lot a little later than usual—I had overslept because ‘this baby’ decided to keep me up all night kicking.
It wasn’t a great morning, and I wasn’t expecting much.
I was just looking forward to sliding into my spot, taking a deep breath, and easing my tired body out of the car. But no.
Brian’s car was sitting there like it had every right to be.
Brian. Of all people.
He’s that guy in the office who spends his whole day on the verge of a smug smile like he’s constantly congratulating himself for something the rest of us can’t see.
I wasn’t exactly surprised, but there was something about the sight of his shiny SUV parked in ‘my’ spot that really rubbed me the wrong way.
I sighed, pulling into a space practically at the other end of the parking lot. As I got out and felt that familiar weight pressing down on my legs, I tried to calm myself down. “It’s just a spot, Linda,” I muttered, waddling toward the building.
But each step felt heavier than the last. I could feel my temper rising with every inch of pavement I had to cover.
By the time I finally made it inside, I was late. And of course, Brian was already there, sitting at his desk with that self-satisfied look like he’d just won something.
I caught him glancing at me from across the office, and I swear he was holding back a grin.
I tried to shake it off, but my whole morning was thrown. I was dragging my feet all day, struggling to stay on top of work while fending off a wave of nausea and exhaustion.
It didn’t help that the rest of the office seemed to notice. I caught snippets of conversation—people whispering about how inconsiderate it was for someone to take the spot that had practically become my designated space.
Brian, the idiot who parked there, just sat in the break room chatting like he had no idea.
But you know what? Karma has a way of balancing these things out.
At lunch, Brian was on his way out to his car when I saw him stop dead in his tracks.
He crouched down by one of his tires, and even from a distance, I could tell something was wrong.
A flat tire. Perfect.
I didn’t mean to smile, but the grin kind of crept up on me as I watched him fiddle with his phone, probably calling for help.
He was out there long enough to lose his lunch break. Maybe longer.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.
But the real irony came the next day. I arrived at the office a bit earlier, determined to get my spot back.
And that’s when I saw it—a brand new sign standing proudly next to my parking space: ‘Reserved for Expecting Mothers and Individuals with Medical Needs’.
I nearly laughed out loud. It turns out the whispers in the office had reached someone higher up. They’d made it official.
Brian’s car wasn’t even in the lot yet, but I knew what would happen when he saw it. I could practically picture the look on his face when he realized he’d lost his little power play. He couldn’t steal my spot anymore, and I wouldn’t have to walk a mile to get to the office.
It was a small victory, but it felt sweet.
Later that morning, I got another surprise. My boss swung by my desk with a project that needed immediate attention.
A big one, too—something that required daily coordination with another department. And who was the lucky point of contact?
Brian.
I’m not one to hold grudges. Not really.
But as I sat down for our first project meeting, watching him squirm in his chair, I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction.
He might’ve gotten the best of me for one day, but in the end, life handed him a flat tire, a long walk, and a daily reminder of the pregnant woman he tried to one-up.
And as for me?
Well, my feet are feeling just a little bit lighter these days.