I was blissfully sleeping, when the doorbell rang. I wake up and look at the clock, it was 11 am (I had slept at 6, so normal wake-up time was at 2). Cursing my luck, I stumble down the stairs, in my pajamas, still half-asleep. Wondering who could it be at this early hour (and still the doorbell was ringing), I open the door window (my door has a rather large window in its middle, so you don’t have to open the entire door) and I see this Albanian dude, about 40 years old, looking at me.

“Hello”, he says, with a distinctly Albanian accent. “What the fuck do you want”, I say, only to realise that I had thought of it, and not actually said it, so I go “yes?”. “I would like to know how much my Christmas bonus should be”, he says. I look at him for a few seconds while I try to figure out if I’m still dreaming, when I decide that no, I could never make this stuff up.

“What?” I ask. “I would like to know how much my Christmas bonus should be”, he repeats. “Yes, I heard that, I don’t know how much it should be” I say. Really, what do I look like, an accountant? That did not seem to stop him, though.

“They said I had to go to the 2nd floor to ask”, he says, pointing at the internal stairway in my house, which was visible from the door. “Maybe I should go up there?”
“Oh like hell you’re going up there”, I think, but wanting to maintain the already high level of the conversation, I say “no”.
“I want to know how much my Christmas bonus should be, can you help me?”
At this point a thought crosses my mind. “Noone can be this stupid”, I think. “It’s something else he wants. He probably wants to stab me and rob my house. Why did he do this at 11 am? Why not 11 pm?”. I also realised at that point that the key was on the door (on the inside, but easily reachable) and that I didn’t have my knife with me, so I could only defend myself with melee combat if he decided to pull any tricks.

I look at him suspiciously.

He looks at me stupidly.

“Is there a superlisor (sic) here?”
“A what?”
“A superlisor.”
“No, there’s noone here.”

Seriously. You ring a doorbell, someone in their pajamas that obviously just woke up answers, you look inside, it looks like a house, with tables, couches, a kitchen, the works. How the hell could it have a supervisor?

“So you can’t tell me how much my Christmas bonus is?”
“No, sorry.”
“I have been working for six months, how much should I get?”
“I can’t help you, sorry.” (= Who gives a fuck?!)
“Oh, okay, bye.”
“Bye.”

At this point he leaves, but I watch him from the window blinds. He walks down the stairs and talks to my neighbour who was downstairs. I hear him say “No, the NEXT street.” My neighbour had told him to ask at 2nd floor of the insurance office which is on the next road, and this retard came up to my house.

I wish I was making this stuff up.