People Spill Their Awe-Striking Revenge Stories
27. It's Your Son's Birthday? I'll Give Him Anything Except Something You Can Sell
“I have a cousin we’re calling LaRon.
He, his father, and his mother are on a list of people I hate with such venom you could die from inhaling the fumes just being near me.
LaRon and his father were physically, emotionally, and verbally horrible to me and others all my childhood, but their treatment of LaRon’s little brother, Emi, was a million times worse because Emi was obviously gay.
Emi was one of my favorite cousins, I love him to pieces and often most of the more brutal torments by the hands of his brother came whenever I deigned to stick up for him. The worst was after some idiot guidance counselor convinced Emi at like 13-14 to come out to his parents and demand his choice to be respected. Well, that didn’t end well.
The police were called, Emi went to the hospital. LaRon made a big deal about not wanting to share a room with an ‘insert super offensive homophobic insult’.
Things happened. Emi moved in with our nanna and through it all, Emi’s mother was nothing but a bystander.
She let it happen. I had confronted LaRon when we got Emi’s stuff, but I wasn’t big enough yet to not get my butt kicked. But that would be the last time.
Years passed, and things happen. LaRon remained a jerk.
His father got worse and did terrible things. Treated family bad and was a constant source of grief for Emi and others. My Aunt Bebe didn’t divorce him until the umpteenth time he went behind her back. And I’ve always hated her for crying in my parents’ house to my mother and other Aunts about why he would do her like that when she does nothing but love him.
I remember screaming that it’s because he’s an awful human being and she knew it. She watched him brutalize his children and she’s crying over him. I told her she was pathetic and I hated her.
I fully expected my mom or someone to scold me then, but standing next to Emi no one seemed to want to try to tell me I was wrong in front of him.
Years later, many years later. I’m grown, we are all grown. They have kids. I don’t have kids yet. Though my wife is pregnant now. My cousins, my siblings, all of them have a lot of kids. Age ranges from around 6 or 7 right now for some of the youngest ones, to around 18 to 19 for some of the older ones.
My brother’s daughter is 18. LaRon’s kids are 17, 14, and 12.
I don’t like LaRon’s children… and not because their dad is a mega jerk. It’s not even because every one of their mothers is ruder than the last with the exception of the seventeen-year-old, whose mother was a sweet girl I really liked but LaRon was too much like his daddy for her to stay with him.
It’s because, despite everyone’s best efforts to be a positive influence on these kids, their father’s influence is king.
They are rude. They are violent. They steal. Moreover, they have developed their father’s homophobia and bully the other kids, and bully Emi’s two adopted kids because their parents are gay.
I tried having a positive relationship with all of these kids. But I’m no saint. I don’t like bad kids. I don’t like bad attitudes. I don’t like dealing with some of the parents attached to these kids.
Because my dad was successful and a lot of his other family was not, there was a lot of friction there.
I used to get bullied by them, told I talk white, or that I wasn’t ‘black enough’. I actually had to learn a little slang in high school just to fit in. Sometimes now it comes naturally, but it still sounds off to my ears when it comes out and I’m not trying.
Usually, it comes out mostly when I’m angry.
Because of this, I don’t particularly treat everyone the same. Those I like, I got out of my way for. Those I have a stronger relationship with, my nieces and nephews who call me, or game with me; the ones who contact me just to talk or tell me about what they’re doing rather than just call me to ask for stuff, I favor.
In fact, probably trying to get something out of me is the fastest way not to get it.
I’m reasonably stable financially and am known to give really thoughtful or seemingly expensive gifts to those I care for. Those I do not or am indifferent to get rinky-dink gift cards.
This has been a cause of friction for my family; though before I ignored the little murmurs because at least no one had the kind of entitlement to confront me on it.
Most of them are people who were terrible to me growing up, who sought no relationship with me as an adult, and did not put in any effort.
Most don’t even wish me a happy birthday on social media. So I meet them with that same kind of energy, though I have only been financially where I am for like 4 years, so now a lot of folks are trying to be more chummy with me, and it’s transparent.
So the inciting event was a birthday. LaRon’s kid and two other of my nieces and nephews all have birthdays on or around the same day. So they have always shared their party. I like the other two. So I got them specific gifts based on conversations we’ve had and their interest. They are all 13, and LaRon’s kid is 14.
I got the girl a Cintiq because she draws. Given that that is also my vocation. I definitely felt good about that gift. I got the boy a go-kart because he’s convinced he’s going to be a race car driver and always wanted one.
He was a big fan of Little Giants. Which was a movie I watched as a kid. But he liked it and so we got him a little go-kart. Each of these costs around 500 bucks. I got some hook-ups, especially with the Cintiq.
I live in a different state. So I had the gifts sent to the kids’ homes and told their parents not to have them open those gifts or get them at the party. Specifically, because I wasn’t getting LaRon’s kid anything like that.
I may not like them, but I’m not about to rub their nose in anything. Instead, I got everyone gift cards and nice handmade cards of their favorite anime characters. Even LaRon’s son got himself as a Naruto character in a card on some lovely cardstock I spent much time with my Exacto knife crafting.
All the kids got 50 dollar gift cards and I donated money to the joint fund for college for them. Which is the standard thing we do on everyone’s birthday, the whole family that can. It’s so automatic pay what you can that I didn’t mention it in my journal.
Apparently, Auntie Harley and Uncle Mac did not follow my instructions and their gifts got opened at the party. Worse, apparently, they were opened right out of the boxes so everyone knows what they are and what they cost.
I got a very upset phone call from LaRon and his wife accusing me of favoritism and being petty, taking out my anger against him on his kids.
I told him in no uncertain terms my treatment of his children is based on their reaction, not his, cause I hate Bebat and Kora; but I love their kids. I told him they aren’t entitled to nothing from me.
He swears up and down I shouldn’t get anyone anything if everyone doesn’t get something, and that I should just send him the equivalent funds because his kid was ‘traumatized’ by the unfairness of it all. Things got heated and then his current baby momma got on the phone, who isn’t related to any of the other three and is pregnant with his latest, and she tries giving me the business and I hang up on her.
I get two more phone calls. One they dial me back. I hang up again. The next was my Aunt Monica who had LaRon and Emi’s mother, Aunt Bebe with her. She says she understands and all that, and she knows what’s going on with me and LaRon and how I feel about his kids because they bully the other kids.
But she said that my favoritism might be causing a problem and she was under the impression, falsely, from LaRon that I had promised to get his kid a gift of equal value and I’m now reneging because I’m butthurt over something.
The first exchange was not good. Especially since they repeated this idea that I send like 500 dollars to LaRon.
Things got worse when his mother said something and then asked why I hate her and how I used to be such a good kid.
And I went off on her for being a bystander and staying with her husband though he committed terrible acts toward her, her kid, and me. I also admonished her for only leaving the guy for seeing someone behind her back.
Let me be frank. I was not kind when I said this. Not kind in the slightest. I was very mad.
After that I got family pressure to just basically make the problem go away. Some quoting that I shouldn’t give anything to anyone if I’m not going to be fair.
Usually, those who I don’t do much for. But some folks, even Emi, had said I’m being too unfair. He believes though his nephew and nieces from his brother are rotten, that it’s not their fault. He still tries his best to be their friend and buddy-buddy, and keeps bringing his kids around trying to have a relationship.
I think it’s a form of harassment because his kids hate it, and they disrespect him and his children. But that’s not my call.
LaRon is still a jerk to Emi, so they don’t have much of a relationship, but Emi has forgiven his mother.
Father not so much. We’re both very glad he’s dead and we both urinated on his grave. That’s not a joke, we said we were going to do it and we did it. If I still lived there I’d make it a yearly event.
So LaRon and his partner have been having the family hound me for days. I’m going through my own stuff since my wife is pregnant and I got my own life issues and it’s really stressing me out.
At first, I threaten to go NC with anyone pressing me about it.
Also, told folks I don’t owe anyone anything, least of all ‘fairness’ when it comes to my generosity. There were a lot of folks coming out of the woodworks and emails and pressure… and I finally caved after talking to Emi.
Emi and I got talking about it and how things are. And he’s defending the kids by talking about how messed up the situation is. How it’s hard to come out a better person with those negative influences and how they’re probably gonna need therapy like he did.
And that gave me an idea…
So… you want me to spend 500 or so dollars on your kid for a gift. You want me to give him a well-thought-out, thoughtful gift of that magnitude. Something that I think he needs or would help him, something I know from the conversations I’ve had with him like the others.
Okay, bet.
I called up Aunt Monica and told her that I’m going to rectify my mistake only because it was wrong for them to open their gifts in front of him like that. And that I’m not a monster, so I will give him something that cost the equivalent he most desperately needs.
Aunt Monica knows me, so she’s like, ‘What are you going to do, I don’t like how pleased with yourself you sound.’ I tell her it’s all good and to look forward to the gift in the mail.
I contacted a friend of my dad’s, Doctor Lubsey, who is a child therapist. He said he’d charge 65 dollars an hour.
Which is awesome. He’s a good therapist, I know because I saw him as a kid when I was dealing with all this bullying and stuff. I don’t think he was my dad’s friend then. I think they became friends after.
I told him the story, he knows everything about me, LaRon, and Emi. He calls me and Emi multiple times and even had 2 group sessions with LaRon and us and even his dad that one time when we were younger.
So he understands the situation, though I didn’t let him know or imply I was doing this to be a jerk, I am… mostly, but I do think that LaRon’s little devil; let’s just say ‘Devin’, could use it. I talk him into doing 8 sessions for 500 bucks.
And say I’ll pay.
He reminds me that even if I pay no one can force the kid to go to therapy, especially if LaRon and his mother don’t want it. So he says talk to them before paying and then we’ll see.
I say nah, I’m gonna pay it upfront and if they ever want to take it, they can. It’ll be my gift to them. He tells me he thinks I’ve grown up to be an upstanding person. I take the compliment with a grin, because I know I’m being a little demon.
He said if LaRon doesn’t take me up on the offer he’d refund me, I told him that’s cool, just don’t give the money to LaRon. He said he wouldn’t.
After this is secure I contact LaRon and let him know I’ve changed my mind and I have gotten his son an equivalent gift. I said I’ll send the receipt to him and it’s up to him if he takes advantage or not.
Like I thought, he was upset that I didn’t just send him the funds. I said these are gifts. He tried to play it off like he wasn’t just wanting it for himself, making the excuse that I don’t know his son and he’d probably be better at buying the gift. But I shut that down and told him I guessed with everyone else, I’m guessing here.
He wanted to know what it was, I told him he’ll see.
He got it yesterday afternoon. I got a very angry call. Oh, his rage and anger were sweet. He accused me of questioning his parenting, I replied ‘I am.’ He said I thought I was funny, I said ‘I do.’ He said some other stuff and I just smugly reiterated that like with the other children I sat down and thought long and hard about our previous conversations and what they wanted to do or be and got them a gift I thought appropriate to encourage that.
Your son wants to be a successful person and before he can be I think he needs therapy.
I have already gotten so many phone calls. And unlike what I thought, there’s been a surprising amount of support for my decision.
Though everyone knows I’m being cheeky here. Most who supported me think it’s a masterstroke. My dad, who I’ll admit I care what he thinks more than anyone else, said he would have approved of me not doing anything for these leeches, but considered what I did do to be ‘Check Mate’ and said he’s very proud of me.
I’ve always been a creative problem solver. My mother told me I’m a jerk, but it was a good move. She was laughing, so it wasn’t like she was admonishing me.
Most who were against me are saying, I was trying to be bogus, but this is actually a good gift for him.
Auntie Monica has been dying laughing. Aunt Bebe said through Monica that I was trying to be hateful, but I actually was helpful, so ‘thank you’. And some said some mean stuff and I told them they can go NC if they don’t like what I do with ‘my money’.
Emi believes I did the right thing and finds it hilarious. He promised that if Devin does go, he will match my contribution to get him another 5 sessions.
LaRon and his baby momma Kimberly are so angry now because the family is telling them they got what they wanted, and now they’re just sounding selfish and greedy.
You can’t ask for a specific gift! They don’t have much of a leg to stand on.
Here’s what I know. LaRon would have spent that money on himself. I also know if I bought something tangible, they would have sold it and spent that money on themselves.
This isn’t why I didn’t do that, I didn’t do that because I didn’t want to give Devin nothing, but being able to foil their selfish little plan was an added bonus. So now, I’m happy and I can focus on my pregnant wife and her current crisis.
Yay me!”
26. Hire Me Under False Pretenses? Don't Be Surprised When My Work Disappears
“5 years ago, I started a new job in my field. I was given a 2-year contract, with the expectation it would be a permanent position. This was how I was recruited, what the posting said, and what my contract said: While it’s a 2-year initial contract, they wanted a permanent, long-term position (in my field it’s common practice to hire an initial contract before doing permanent because it’s difficult to fire when you’re permanent).
When they interviewed me they told me the position was established with a lot of clients, my predecessors retired and they need someone to take it to the next level. All good.
I start the job and realize that after the previous person left, they didn’t hire an interim, and essentially the position was nothing except an intern who was doing 5 hours a week from September to May.
There was no web presence so nobody knew about the services—basically, I was starting from scratch. So I spent time building a website, creating social media, advertising, making packages for the community, making brochures, and posters, and over the 2 years went from the 5 clients the intern had to 50 clients.
When it came time to make my position permanent, they fired me. They said it didn’t grow the way they wanted and I didn’t blow it out of the water. And as such, they were canceling my position and program.
That was it—I was told to finish my work in the next month and they’d pay the remainder of my contract out.
I was dumbfounded but whatever, I knew I could get a new job quite easily. A couple of days later I was going through google doc folders to delete all my documents and accidentally found meeting minutes from before my hiring, in which there are comments that they want to hire the intern FT but they’re still in school and won’t graduate for 2 more years.
I looked at another document that had brainstorming and discovered their plan to hire someone for 2 years, under the guise of a permanent job to build the role up, then let them go and hire the intern permanently. This allows the intern to take on a successful program.
Well, Intern worked until the end of May, and my contract was done in mid-July. After intern finished for the term, I decided to ‘finish my work’. The website, domain, and social media were all in my name, and since I was told they were canceling my position I sent an email to the clients to say that the program was ending in June and directed them to other agencies that offer the same services for September, canceled the domain, deleted the website, closed all our social media accounts, closed the email account, canceled the account with the printing services that had all our designs (done by me) and posters (my intellectual property), everything.
It was as if we never existed.
In August, I receive an email from the intern that she was just hired for my position (but with a slightly different title) and asked if I could come by the office to help her figure out the website as she can’t find it, and to help her transfer social media, get the email information, and get all the posters and designs transferred to her name.
I emailed her back and said, ‘Oh, well this is awkward. I was told the program was canceled, so I directed clients to other agencies so they could have services in September and deleted all the web presence so people wouldn’t get wrong information.'”
25. If You Won't Pay The Bill Equally, I Won't Be Paying For Your Wi-Fi
“I lived in a few house shares when I was at university.
Most of the bills were included in the rent except Wi-Fi. So I took this bill on in my name and agreed to split the cost three ways with my two housemates to make it affordable for all of us, simple right?
Well, it became the bane of my existence.
Every single month without fail I had to chase them for funds. Housemate A would ‘forget’ to pay me (she must have had dementia, as the bill was on the same date every month for a year) but credit where credit is due she’d pay me on the day I reminded her or the next day.
Housemate B would come out with the same excuse every month, ‘I’m a bit short this month mate, I get half as much student loan as you. Can I pay you double next month?’
I’d have accepted this if her mom wasn’t giving her funds every month doubling what she was getting in student loans.
There was naturally a lot of tension in the house because of this, so I started staying over at my significant other’s the odd night, which turned into three nights until I unofficially moved in. I was still paying rent on my house share due to being tied in with the tenancy agreement and not being able to afford to end the agreement early.
Another month rolled by, I messaged them both yet again to ask for payment. Housemate A had ‘forgotten’ again but promised to get it to me by the end of the day when she got home and housemate B was ‘short’ again.
I went round to my house to grab some clean clothes to take back to my partner’s place, and lo and behold on the way there I saw housemate B sitting in the Chinese takeaway surrounded by shopping bags. It would appear she’d had quite the shopping spree at the MAC, Benefit, and Urban Decay makeup counters.
Well, the red mist had descended, I’d well and truly had enough by this point. So I went into my house, shoved some clean clothes into a bag as planned along with the Wi-Fi router and plug, so they couldn’t plug in a new router, and left.
I then messaged them both saying ‘I am fed up with you both taking the brunt out of me. The whole point of splitting a bill three ways is so we can all afford it, but I’m being left financially short every month because you are both unable or unwilling to pay me on time.
You’ll notice when you both get home that the Wi-Fi router and plug are no longer there and I will no longer be paying for your Wi-Fi. So I suggest you either go to the library or start a new contract, which will cost you more as I won’t be contributing.
You both have deadlines in a week, so you better get a wriggle on and sort something out. Sucks to be you!'”
24. No One Wanted To Study With Me Before, So No One Gets To Study With Me Now
“So the school I go to has a ton of assessments all the time. There were a series of assessments over the last 2 weeks and because of my anxiety disorder I’m really strict about planning out my study time and making sure I’m fully prepared. I planned it out so that I would finish studying all the content for each subject at least 2 to 3 days before the assessment so I could just focus on practice problems after that.
Now it’s the day before our bio test and I’m using our free lessons to revise because there was a lot of theory to memorize. Everyone else is fooling around like we usually do but they’re my friends so I went around just to ask if any of them would like to revise with me since the bio assessment was tomorrow.
Nobody wanted to answer. It did hurt a little that no one wanted to do this with me but my logical brain understood that they just wanted to have fun.
Anyways, now it’s the day of the bio test and all of them are freaking out and complaining about how unfair it is that there’s so much to study.
I don’t study on the day of because it just makes me nervous and unless I haven’t studied at all, it doesn’t improve my grade. So I’m sitting there, watching my food videos online and one of the girls from yesterday who had been particularly dismissive comes up to me and asks if I wanna revise with her.
I tell her that I’m good and go back to watching my video. She asks again if I’d like to help her study and I tell her that ‘last-minute stuff isn’t my thing so I’m good,’ while smiling warmly.
Several other people I asked yesterday also asked if I’d like to revise with them and I gave them all similar responses. This happened for almost all the other subjects and in each case, they were just panicking and freaking out on the day of, even though I’d ask them if they wanted to revise with me or do practice work the day before.
I know it isn’t a big deal but as someone who is at the butt end of jokes for planning things out, it was incredibly satisfying to see the planning paying off, and more satisfying to see people who had rejected my help come to need it at the end.”
23. If You're Gonna Betray Your Significant Other, Don't Tick Off The Housekeeper
“Today I did something out of nothing but pettiness but I feel I’ve done the right thing in the long run. Don’t get me wrong, this was done purely for my own satisfaction, but reflecting, I feel I’d want to know this sort of thing if I was in my guest’s partner’s shoes.
I recently started a new job as a housekeeper at a popular chain hotel and while I’m enjoying it, the vomit rooms from stag dos, etc., really irritate me. They always somehow manage to get it on the only carpeted area of the room and it puts me behind schedule having to scrub at the carpet.
This one room today really took it to the next level, rubbish scattered about, food jammed down the sides of the bed as well as vomit patches all over the room. It took a while to get through all the mess but toward the end of clearing, I found a birthday card addressed to the guest on the floor.
The card was open and read ‘Happy Birthday (guest), I love you so much. Have a great birthday weekend away, I’m going to miss you so much – love Beth’.
I picked up the card to bin it and when I closed it I saw the front read ‘To my amazing man on his birthday’.
My eyebrows immediately raised. I had just picked up multiple protection wrappers, seen the used ones in the bin as well as found a torn dress in the sheets. I was originally going to throw the dress away as it was clearly torn beyond wear and the guest had most likely intended for me to do that, but wow, I was mad about that vomit and crusty food.
This poor girl has been played by a man who trashed the hotel room but luckily for her he ticked me off. I took the torn dress down to reception and logged it into our lost and found with the room number attached. Our system always sends a copy of lost item emails to the emergency contact as well just in case the guest misses the email.
The crappy guy and his emergency contact will soon receive a friendly email with a photograph of the ‘forgotten’ item and a description of what it is and where it was found in the room. Who is his emergency contact?
His partner, Beth.
If you’re gonna betray your significant other, don’t tick off the housekeeper.”
22. My Boss Was Terrible, So I Ruined His Marriage
“About 10 years ago when I was 19 I worked for a regional grocery store in the meatpacking department. Pay was bad and I had second shift. I came in at 3 and left at 11. It wasn’t a terrible job all things considered. I had the meat room to myself so I could listen to music and really just not be annoyed by other employees.
My duties when I showed up were to package more ground beef and other beef-based products and put them on the shelf. After 5 I also had to juggle working behind the deli counter.
Well shortly after getting hired, the boss of the meat department showed back up from vacation and I was the new guy.
Everything was fine at the beginning but I found when I would clock in the lady behind the counter—we’ll call her V—wouldn’t be there and there would be a line. So I would clock in. Spend the first 30 minutes of my shift doing her job.
No problem, I actually liked that position. Well after the line was done I would almost always see Mr. Boss staring me down angry I’m not doing ‘my’ job. He would give me the rant about ‘doing my duties unless customers needed my help’ and they almost always did but he wouldn’t listen.
Come to find out. The reason V isn’t behind the counter is because she and Mr. Boss are having… ‘Meetings’ in his office with the door closed.
Not my husband or wife. Not my problem. We continue this dance of me covering her station and getting in trouble for it for a few weeks until an ice storm hits.
I tell my boss I can’t get my car out and I’m waiting on a ride so I might be a little late. He proceeded to fire me because ‘this is the last straw.’ By the way, I hadn’t had any write-ups.
I agree that it’s fine because I hate this job anyway.
Fast forward 2 years. I’m 21. And I’m celebrating with my friends at basically the only local bar in this terrible tiny crap hole town and when we walk in. Who do I see?
Why, if it isn’t Mr. Boss and not V. But his wife.
He looks at me and tries to act like it’s a happy coincidence. I sit down. Tell him it’s my 21st. He buys me a beer as a gift and I chat him up.
Enter my revenge.
I introduce myself to his wife and tell her how he treated me. Talking about how I would cover the deli counter almost every shift for half an hour and then get in trouble for it because it wasn’t my job.
‘No matter how many times I tried telling Mr. Boss I wouldn’t have to cover deli, he and V were always having their daily locked door meeting in his office.’
She looked at him. Looked at me. And couldn’t say a word.
It could be read as crappy. But his wife was super polite and friendly and not in that crappy southern religious style. But a genuinely nice person. I’m glad I could help pull the wool to let her know her husband is a complete garbage person.”
21. Our Lousy Project Manager Got Fired Twice—Once Because Of Me
“In 1984 I was working in a country club banquet kitchen when I looked at my watch. ‘Ten (hours) down, two to go,’ I thought to myself, and at that moment I decided I didn’t want to work in food service any longer.
My next day off I drove to the local community college, grabbed a paper catalog, and flipped through it, looking for a new career.
‘Computer Technician’ sounded interesting, so I enrolled. Turns out I had a knack for it, making straight A’s during two of the four semesters.
I found a job, but it only paid $14K/year, and even in 1986 that was lousy money.
I stayed with the country club, but now I was tending the bar on weekends and 1 or 2 nights each week, and that’s when this story begins.
The country club I worked at had a ballroom it rented out to non-members, so we had a lot of weddings and Christmas parties. Sometimes during daytime weddings in the fall and winter, wedding guests would go into the member area to watch the football game.
It didn’t bother anybody, the owners weren’t proud and would take anybody’s funds, while I liked them because they usually tipped better than the members.
Usually.
One Sunday some wedding guests were watching the game, and some guys at a table right next to the bar were talking.
They were a little on the loud and demanding side, so I kept an ear out for them, so I was really paying attention when I heard one of the guys had just landed a new job and from hearing him talk, he was going to work for my company.
My ears really picked up when someone asked him, ‘Why’d you leave your last job?’
‘Ah, I got fired, but it was bull crap,’ and I didn’t hear what followed immediately afterward because customers at the other end needed serving.
But I listened as best I could, and, honestly, it sounded like he was making excuses and covering up stuff. I concluded that if he got fired, he probably deserved it but I kept that to myself. They left after a couple of drinks and didn’t tip.
(I’m sure you know, but all servers and bartenders fantasize about getting even with people who stiff them on the tips. I didn’t know I would finally get that chance.)
A few weeks later, a new Project Manager was making the rounds of the offices.
He was a replacement for another PM who had received a well-deserved promotion. The new PM was keeping the old PM’s assistant (call her Jane), who I had become friends with as I worked directly with her instead of the PM, as needed. Jane was a full-time employee and a part-time student who couldn’t move to another state, and it was felt that having her there would help out the new PM start out on the right foot.
I was called into my boss’ office and introduced to the new PM, and I recognized him as the guy who had just landed a new job. ‘Did a friend of yours get married a few weeks ago?’ I asked.
The new PM (call him John) squinted at me. ‘Were you the bartender?’
I nodded, then excused myself, to get back to work.
Several weeks later, I had reason to call Jane on an issue. We straightened it out, then, thinking I was talking friend-to-friend, I asked her how it was working out with John.
From her answer, it wasn’t going well. As I recall (per Jane) he would arrive late, get some coffee, make a few phone calls, foist his work on Jane, then spend the rest of the day reading the newspaper. She wasn’t happy.
‘I wonder if that was why he got fired from his last job?’ I said. It just came out—I didn’t really expect to hear John was a lousy PM.
‘WHAT?’ Jane yelled so loudly that I didn’t really need the phone.
‘What did you say? What do you mean?’ and I told her the story above.
There was a pause after I finished, then Jane asked, ‘Are you serious? Would you swear to this?’ I told her I would, still not really putting 2 and 2 together.
This was my first non-restaurant job and I was pretty naïve about what it was like in the corporate world—suffice it to say, I was about to find out. We made our good-byes, then got back to our respective jobs.
A couple of hours later, my boss came into our area and spoke to our team lead. No big deal, until my team lead called me over and told me to go with my boss. I followed him out, and he wasn’t saying anything which was unusual for him, as he was a talkative guy.
We went into his office and his phone was off the hook.
‘As far as I know, you’re not in any trouble,’ he told me. ‘When I leave, pick up the phone and say, ‘Hello,’ to Mr. Vice President, then answer all of his questions.’
I nodded, practically wetting myself, and he left, closing the door behind him. I sat down and picked up the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘OP, this is Mr. Vice President. Jane had some news about John that she says came from you.
What can you tell me about him?’ I told him the story above, answering any questions he had. He asked if I had told anybody else about this, I told him I had only told Jane.
He paused briefly before continuing, ‘OP, you might hear from HR Vice President about this.
In the meantime, don’t talk to anybody else about this, not even Jane. If anybody asks about it, send them to me. Do you understand?’ I told him I did and that was the end of the call.
I was slowly realizing somebody was in deep kimchi, but I wasn’t sure who until about a week later when Jane called me up.
‘I am buying all of your drinks for every happy hour for the rest of your life. John just got fired.’
I never asked why, but from some of the scuttlebutt at the next happy hour, I think they found some issues with his resume.”
20. Won't Fix My Internet? I'll Show You The Power Of Public Shaming
“Storm Eunice hit my area hard. I live in the middle of nowhere. We had some wind damage yet managed to keep our power. But, the internet went out.
That was on a Friday, the end of my work week, so not too bad.
It’ll be fixed over the weekend I think and I’ll be able to work from home from Monday. I was so naïve.
Monday came, no internet. I call BT and they give me excuses, couldn’t find my address, hung up on me.
Tuesday, still nothing. I call and the call center doesn’t seem to understand that I’d like the internet that I pay for back. Got given a clear date (CD) of Wednesday. Wednesday, I’m starting to sweat. My boss has been pretty forgiving with me not being able to work but I don’t know how long that’ll last. Plus, I’m an hourly worker.
I’m not getting paid. I call BT and they give me a CD for tomorrow. I ask if I can get a MiFi box or something and I’m told I’m not on the +Package, did I want to upgrade?
‘I’m not even getting the bare minimum of an internet connection so I’m not giving you even more money, but thanks.’
Thursday, still nothing. Call and get excuses and with another CD: tomorrow, again. Friday, I’m annoyed. A whole week’s pay down the drain. Call up BT and they give me the good news! No, the internet isn’t back up, but they’ll give me £8.06 for every day the internet isn’t back up!
(not the first 3 days though, of course). Kind of a drop in the ocean with the £500 in work pay I just lost.
The weekend I got along with no internet by crocheting and walking my dog.
Monday, nothing. I call and complain, it’s been over a week since the storm, everywhere around me have got their power and internet back, so what the heck?
I’m told it’ll be back up tomorrow morning. My boss is not happy. Tuesday (this morning) and still nothing. I’d had it.
I took to social media.
I went to BT’s social media pages and with every post they’d made, e.g. ‘PS5s are available to all BT customers!
Yay!’ and ‘Hate doesn’t belong in the game #hopeunited,’ I would comment with the same spiel of my story (2 weeks without internet, are your repairmen on holiday, I’m going to lose my job, etc.) After starting with something that sounded positive about whatever they’d posted. ‘Hey BT!
I’d sure love to buy a PS5 but unfortunately, you haven’t fixed my internet for 2 weeks so I don’t have the connection to!’ and ‘Hey BT! Hate doesn’t belong on the pitch but it does belong with you. I’ve lost out on 2 weeks’ pay thanks to you!
SORT YOURSELVES OUT.’ I posted my story, I berated, I slandered.
Not 10 minutes after I had finished my assassination on social media, I got a call. I’m being sent out a 4G MiFi box AND an engineer has been dispatched to my area.
I’ve just come off the call with the engineer. He says he’s not been very busy this week. So although I’m beyond annoyed, I’m just so glad it’s finally getting sorted. Just watch out BT, my thumbs are more than happy to annihilate you if you pull this crap again.”
19. Cut In Line At The Checkout Queue? You Can Scan Everything Again
“I’d popped into my local supermarket for a few essentials. It was pretty busy, but I’d noticed that the self-checkout queues tended to have folks with only a few items each, so whilst the queue was longer, it was flowing quicker.
I only had a handful of items myself so I joined the queue.
In this particular supermarket, there were 8 self-checkout machines, with the middle pair being back-to-back. Think two squares side-by-side. Each ‘square’ had its own queue, both being roughly the same length.
I was stood in the queue for the right-hand side square.
I was 3 places from the front of the queue when a woman approached from the left, spotted an empty checkout that the person at the front of the left queue was just picking up their basket to go to and cut straight in front of everybody.
Now, if she was just scanning a sandwich and a drink, I don’t think anybody would have been too bothered, but she had a trolley full of stuff, so she’d be there for a while. Being British, nothing more was said other than some mild tutting.
Anyway, as it was my turn to check out my items, I noticed the machine I was using was directly opposite the woman who’d cut in earlier. She’d just about finished scanning everything, which had taken a little while given how much stuff she had.
I also noticed that the power switches for the self-checkouts were very much in range of my feet. Whoever had laid out the store had handily written the numbers 6 and 7 on the plugs, which corresponded to the number 6 on the back of her machine (and assumedly the number 7 on the back of mine).
As she’d just bagged her last item, I gave the power switch a gentle kick. In the UK, all plug sockets have an individual switch that will shut off power to the socket. A confused reaction from the other side confirmed that the machine had shut down.
Flicked the switch back on again, the machine starts booting up. She’s stood there with a puzzled look on her face, which swiftly turned to anger as she realized she’d have to scan everything all over again.
I don’t know if the supermarket staff had seen me do what I did, but she called one of them over, and he very dryly said, ‘the machine crashed, you’ll have to re-scan your shopping once it’s restarted or use a staffed till.
Make sure you remove your items from the bagging area first.’
She didn’t look particularly impressed at this and started swearing under her breath.
I’m not very good at keeping a straight face so I swiftly finished scanning my items and left. By the time I’d got to my car it had been another couple of minutes, and I purposely drove by the front of the shop.
She was still scanning away.”
18. Oh, You Wanted To Sleep? That's Too Bad—So Did I
“My old roommate was a daily regular at a bar less than a mile from our house. At the time I liked to party too, and would often join in on the fun but took ‘time off’ when I needed it.
Sometimes we would have a few folks at our place after the bar, which was a good time and didn’t usually get too wild, but these after-parties went late and intoxicated people don’t have any volume control generally.
So it was Friday night after work and she was getting ready to head to the bar per usual. I told her I’d sit tonight out as I was just drained from work.
I asked her to please not bring the party home so I could catch up on sleep, and she said that was fine, no problem. The problem became mine when the party came crashing in around 1 or so, more people than usual, more intoxicated than usual. Music, yelling, shots, shots, shots.
I didn’t wanna blow her up so I just threw a silent fit, put in some earplugs, and went back to sleep eventually. I was angry she’d disrespected me like that…
The next morning I wasn’t sure how to approach it and then it hit me—she must’ve had a long night, and needed some rest herself, huh?
So I decided I’d get some chores done at home, and engaged in a 7:00 AM cleaning spree, but first: I turned on my speaker, put it on full volume, placed it near her bedroom door (conveniently close to the bathroom I was cleaning), and pressed play.
The song choice: Before I Forget, Slipknot.
Immediately she opened her bedroom door and looked extremely annoyed but I just decided to really lean in and essentially sang the words ‘GOOOOOOOD MORNING!’ in my most chipper voice and yellow cleaning gloves.
I spent a couple of hours cleaning and rocking out and she slept until 3 because she really, really needed to catch up on some sleep.
When she woke, I asked her to clean up from the party last night.”
17. Keep My Stuff Hidden From Me? Hope You Enjoy Toothaches
“I’m a 19-year-old female who recently moved out of my horrible mom’s house.
So the other week I went back to my mom’s house to see my brother and to get the last of my items. I was able to get everything but my PS4.
She unplugged it and she hid it while I was there. Rude, but I could see how she was playing.
I knew my mom would try to sell it because my brother was way too young to play it and she doesn’t touch games.
So I decided to make sure she can’t sell it. By taking all the wires she left.
So now she has a ps4 with no wires. So unless she wants to sell a ps4 with her card info on it and her ex’s account, or buy new wires and such, she can’t sell it.
So she has a useless PS4 and I got all the wires.
That is until she texted me a few days ago saying she broke the PS4. Which I doubt but in the end she couldn’t make a profit off it.
I did manage to grab 3 of my games on disc so yay.
Anyway, so for the actual revenge part. It’s really simple and small but it has a big impact on her.
Does anyone know what Clove oil is? It’s an oil that numbs toothaches and works really fast. My mom gets frequent toothaches and uses it a lot.
It costs a bit because she has to get it online, not in the stores.
Simple to say, next time she has a toothache and goes to get the oil, she’ll see it’s not in the closet. Or even in that room.
Or that house. It’s in my bookbag.
So whenever I wanna play my games, I just imagine her frantically searching the house for something on the shelf next to me, and it’s amusing enough for me.
Hope keeping my stuff was worth the pain and money, mom.”
16. Wanna Be An Entitled Neighbor? Enjoy The Parking Tickets
“My daughter lives in a small terraced cottage in a tiny village in SE England. Her house is on the main road through the village. Her front door opens right onto the street. Outside her house, no parking is allowed but 50m down the street are some parking spaces.
For those of you not in the UK, where parking is not allowed, the council painted yellow lines on the road by the curbside. It’s so quiet, there are no police or traffic wardens.
Between where the parking starts and the yellow lines finish is a small section of road that is block paved rather than tarmac.
It’s just a bit longer than a car length. It is within the no parking area but due to the nature of the block paving, the yellow line paint has all come off.
So I go to visit my daughter and mistakenly park on the block paved area because there are no yellow lines and visit my daughter.
When I get back to my car, I am amazed to find a parking ticket on the windscreen. I mentioned this to my daughter and she told me that the woman who lives in the house adjacent to that part of the road probably reported me to the council because she usually parks there herself and I had taken ‘her’ spot.
Here comes the petty revenge. I asked my daughter to let me know every time she parked there and I phoned the council to report her. She’s had 3 parking tickets so far and now doesn’t park there anymore.
PS. I did try to appeal the ticket on the grounds of the yellow lines being worn away but I was turned down and couldn’t be bothered to go to court.”
15. Not Happy With Me Tanning In My Own Yard? I'll Tan Every Day Now
“I’ve been living in a Victorian house in a small town for a month now with my 2 dogs, a Ridgeback and a Russell, both total softies.
I’ve not spoken to my neighbor because she was standoff-ish since day 1.
The neighbor’s house doesn’t have a pathway from the back yard to the front (which is a problem for bin day) so in my lease, it was agreed that I would allow my next-door neighbor through our shared garden gate every Thursday on bin day (though it was normally her husband taking it to the bins).
This was fine until a week ago.
I heard banging on my front door. It was my neighbor (N). She told me I need to stop using my garden so often because she needs more frequent passage through it for her dog walking business.
She takes dogs walking and doesn’t want them to muddy her house when taking them through to the back yard, it’s cleaner to use my garden access to walk them straight to the garden.
I told her I can’t just stop using my garden.
I got a place with a yard specifically for my dogs to have access to fresh air and space to exercise.
The next day I got a call from my landlady (who’s also next door’s landlady) and she told me N was asking that I take my dogs in more often because they are very noisy and aggressive every time she’s been through the garden.
I was floored. I set the record straight, including N using my garden all day every day for her business, and the landlady’s response was, ‘Sigh, so she’s just being difficult.’
The next day, N came a-knocking again. Angry with me for ratting her out, our landlady had restricted her access in my garden to strictly bin day, every other entry had to be by my say-so.
She had clearly lost the battle and was salty. I’d like to point out that my ‘aggressive’ dogs were quietly sitting by the front door watching our chat. Basically frothing at the mouth, y’know. N turned to walk away and commented, ‘And you need to cover up when you’re tanning, it’s disgusting.
My husband can see you from our bedroom window.’
Now I don’t tan, I just lay in the sun in jeans or shorts with a tank top on. And sunglasses. And a hat. So I don’t know if she wanted me to set up a tent to block her husband’s vision of me completely, who knows?
I decided she was being ridiculous and I was going to enact my revenge next Thursday.
Bin day.
The morning came as usual, the sun was out and I was in the yard. I heard N’s husband come through the gate, bin in tow.
He was greeted by the dogs and me tanning, in bikini bottoms, sunglasses, and NOTHING ELSE. I smiled and said, ‘Morning!’ He smiled and said morning back, his face going red as he went past me.
It only took 2 minutes.
N came crashing through the gate and screeched at me for being indecent and that she was going to call the cops.
I responded, ‘Lady, I’m allowed to tan in MY YARD. You’re trespassing, so please call the cops, you’ll save me some call credit.’
She’s not been a happy camper since I tan most days now.”
14. Need Help With Those Clotheslines? That'll Be $5, Please
“When I was a wee lad in the late 1950s my family lived in one of those post-war tract houses.
All the houses were occupied by young families with kids. The exception was our next-door neighbors, Joe and Mary, who were a few years older and had no kids. They were not good neighbors. They constantly complained about the kids playing stickball in the street, or roller skating on the sidewalk in front of their house.
One time they yelled at my father because our lawn sprinkler got their driveway wet.
At the back corner of our yard where the four properties met, there was a large tree. Even though the tree was on Joe’s property, all four homeowners ran clotheslines to it (this was before clothes driers were popular).
The tree was dying and every time there was a strong wind it dropped branches all over. The three homeowners who had little kids were afraid of them getting hurt.
So the three daddies got together and found an arborist to remove it.
He said it would be a simple job since he had easy access through one of the yards for his bucket truck. He could do the job for $20.
They went to Joe and offered to split the cost 4 ways. Joe said the tree wasn’t bothering him so why should he pay $5 to have it removed?
So they asked if he would object to them paying the whole $20 to have it removed. And he refused.
Legally the property owners could have cut off any branches that overhung their yards. The arborist recommended against that because it would further weaken the tree and cost more than the $20 he had quoted.
So they went to the town and filed a complaint that the tree was a hazard. The town sent out a code enforcement officer who agreed and issued an order to Joe to have the tree removed.
Joe went to the other 3 guys and said he had changed his mind and if they really wanted to hire an arborist to remove his tree, he wouldn’t object, as long as he didn’t have to pay.
They said ‘No thanks,’ so he offered to share the cost. And again they declined.
So Joe called the arborist who said it would cost $50. Joe had built a garage that blocked access to the backyard. The arborist would have to rig lines and climb into the tree and then haul all the branches out to the curb.
Joe had no choice. The arborist spent a whole day removing the tree, and Joe was out $50.
But wait. There’s more.
The day after the tree was removed, one of the dads scrounged a piece of metal pipe and installed it in the back corner of his yard.
My older brother had a great time shinnying up the tree to reconnect the 3 clotheslines. Right on schedule Joe came out with his clothesline and asked my brother to connect it. He said he’d be happy to do so—for $5.
I don’t know how this guy dried his clothes, but when we moved out a few years later there were only 3 lines to that pole.”
13. There's Always That One Guy At The Office, And We Made Him Pay
“We had a guy at the office where I worked who was That Guy. I think every office has one.
That Guy was a manager of some sort—I don’t remember exactly what (we had two divisions in one relatively small building, and That Guy worked for the other division but both divisions got along well.) That Guy was above a team leader but below middle management.
Young, personable, friendly… on the surface he was pretty likable, EXCEPT: First, That Guy was The Best. No matter what you did, That Guy had already done it and done it better. For example, I had been a competitive fencer before I went back to school and stopped fencing.
I was a lousy competitor, but I did compete, and I had a national ranking. I was the twelve-thousand-and-something best foil fencer in the country (if memory serves) but it was a national ranking and I came by it honestly.
That Guy learned I had fenced. Suddenly That Guy had been a state or collegiate or Martian champion or something, except That Guy couldn’t tell me which weapon he won his championship in, and That Guy had never heard of the US governing body for fencing (at the time, AFLA—The Amateur Fencer’s League of America) (This was a long time ago—the governing body is now USA Fencing).
There was a girl working with us who sang in a local band. That Guy had recorded albums. Not a copy to be found, or even borrowed, of course. It went on.
Second, That Guy was also incredibly cheap. As soon as That Guy heard there was a happy hour, the first question out of his mouth wasn’t, ‘Where is it?’ but, ‘Who’s buying?’ And That Guy never paid more than ten bucks for his share, no matter that he had beers, food, and That Guy also ‘bought’ beers for others.
It got to the point where we planned happy hours in secret, but it’s hard to keep those things secret sometimes.
I was a part-time bartender, and I knew other bartenders and other managers. One day someone came to me with an idea to get That Guy but he needed my connections.
We talked it through and we came up with a plan. We managed to keep it a secret between the two of us when That Guy was sent out of state on business and that let us plan it.
(NOTE: When he came back, we found out That Guy had apparently be-bopped every waitress at the hotel restaurant where he was staying, but I digress.)
First, I talked to a bar manager I once worked for; he agreed to our plan provided I guaranteed the bill personally. I did, and everyone who was going gave me $20 (refundable, if everything went according to plan, but maybe not, and they knew that) to cover the guarantee.
When That Guy returned from the trip, we planned a happy hour, and we made sure That Guy knew about it. True to form, he asked only, ‘Who’s buying?’ Everyone—EVERYONE—told him he was and we laughed when he laughed.
It was a glorious happy hour; quite possibly the biggest ever attended. And as the beers flowed, they took effect, and when they took effect on That Guy, all of his co-workers left the bar. Full beers, half beers, half-eaten meals… we all booked it out of there, with the OK of the bar manager, who had let the bartenders and servers know what was going to happen.
That Guy came out of the restroom to find only locals and regulars still drinking, and I’m sure they figured out what had just happened.
The bar manager was standing at the door. ‘Hey, (That Guy)!’ he yelled, calling out his first and last name.
‘They said you’re buying. Here’s the bill, and we added on a 20% tip.’
When I followed up with my buddy, he said That Guy nearly fainted—That Guy had to sit down, That Guy was pale and shaking, and my friend said he felt bad for the guy.
I kind of did, too.
But That Guy pulled out his wallet and credit card, and That Guy paid the $2500+ bar tab.
A lot of places also have That Other Guy—the guy everyone knows and respects because he’s fair to everyone.
Turns out That Other Guy was That Guy’s boss, who was also angry with him for creating a less-than-happy atmosphere at work and came to me with the idea (and also helped guarantee the tab). That Guy called in sick on Monday, so That Other Guy went to his place to talk to him.
We don’t know what was said to That Guy. We’ll never know. I do know no one said a word about it on Tuesday or afterward. But while That Guy still had already done what you do, only better… That Guy asked for a separate check at every happy hour after that.
And everyone was happy with that.”
12. If You Want Me To Pay You Back, You'll Have To Pay Me Back, Too
“I (20F) have lived with this girl for over a year. She doesn’t realize how annoying she can be. She’s a good person at heart but she was coddled by her parents and thinks she’s the center of the universe.
Fun little examples of her behavior: after I come home from a long day of work she sits on my bed and talks for an hour about a new book she got when I clearly just want some time to relax on my own.
She’ll take my drying dishes off the rack and chuck them all over the kitchen to put a single cup on the rack even when there’s plenty of room. When shopping she’ll hover over my shoulder and give her opinion on every item I look at or get.
Never shuts up.
Anyway the focus of this story. First some context: her car stopped working so I have been getting up at 5 every morning to drive her to work. Never ask her for a thing in exchange. I also do a lot of stuff for her as well such as buying her drinks, etc.
She counts pennies, super exact about the amount everyone owes her, down to the cent. So I forgot my card one day and wanted some candy, I asked her to pay. It was like $4.50. So then when we get home she asks for the money, but I forget.
Then she keeps hassling me for it until I snap and say, ‘Fine then, let’s count the cents’ and tally up all the petrol she owes me for driving her to work, plus the price of hiring a car for a day (I let her drive mine for a day), along with all the other little things I have bought for her this year.
The total is over $100. Immediately she wants to backtrack and say the candy is paying me back for driving her every day. But nope! Now she has to pay me every cent she owes and has to find a different lift from now on.”
11. My Coworker Never Does Any Work, So I Got To Sit On My Phone
“I (18F) am a manager at a coffee place. I have a coworker (16M) who is extremely slow, unmotivated, and has zero urgency. I am a rather high-strung individual and I want to get out of work on time. In his fashion, the kid drags his feet while I zip around getting my stuff and sometimes his stuff done as well.
He also expects me to ‘babysit’ him while I am on duty and even expects me to when I am training. He also blames all of his mistakes and his slowness on his autism. He has also told me he’s never been diagnosed, he just really knows he has it.
(Which is a bigger issue, but not my problem). I have had enough.
Today I really wanted to leave on time so I could get some studying done for an exam I have in the morning. I finished all my duties and watched as he played on his phone and dragged his feet.
I watched as the time ticked away and before you know it, it was past time for us to leave. Great. I also know that his mother gets very angry when she has to sit and wait for us to be finished with all of our tasks.
I was getting more frustrated when suddenly a lightbulb came on. I’m done with all of my tasks, and he has more than enough time to finish with his.
I was sick of sitting and doing everything for him so I could leave early, so I took a seat.
I mimicked what he did while I washed dishes for 45 minutes and sat on my phone. He came back after doing trash and proclaimed he was done with everything. I wandered out and explained… no you’re not! And watched as he realized, I did nothing of his.
I got to sit and play on my phone for 20 minutes waiting for him as he zipped around. I know he’s probably gonna get yelled at by his mom. Sweet, sweet victory. I’m gonna do it again tomorrow!
Thankfully my upper manager has acknowledged what a pain he is to me, and he will be moving on soon.”
10. Paint Me Out As A Crazy Person? Good Luck Paying Those Court Fees
“In December of 2020, another driver merged into me and tried to flee. I chased her down, caught up to her, and demanded she pull over.
Basically, she failed to yield to my horn, failed to pull over after she hit me, she ended up trying to circumvent providing insurance information, and over the next several months, my insurance battled it out with her insurance, because she continued to lie and deny accountability.
Even though there was paint transfer from her car to my car, and damage on her vehicle lining up with the damage on my vehicle, we spent over a year going in circles—with her texting me things like ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’ll make sure my insurance takes care of it’ while telling her insurance I’m just a crazy person who chased her down and bullied her at an intersection, and the damage to her vehicle was old.
She did some crazy things, like mirrored/flipped pictures of her car to show ‘proof’ that there was no damage to her driver’s side like I claimed, and because arbitration didn’t pick up on this, they could not rule in my favor.
My only option was to sue her in small claims court.
I did exactly that and pointed out the mirrored images to the judge. The judge called her out on her façade and ruled in my favor.
The final judgment in my favor specified that this woman had to pay me the expense of my deductible.
In subsequent conversations with this woman, she has agreed to pay the judgment. She is finally being agreeable and compliant.
I could’ve left it there, but my petty revenge is that I’m submitting all documentation of this judgment to the insurance company, whom I since left. They will now pursue her insurance with the support of the judgment to collect the funds they paid me for the incident.
So now not only will this lady be out $1,200 out of pocket to cover my court fees and deductible, but now her insurance premiums will increase for an at-fault accident with damages in excess of $1,000.
I hope she learns a very valuable lesson that it’s cheaper to tell the truth.
To be honest, she could’ve kicked me $200 and I would’ve buffed out the paint scratch on my car, but sometimes we make our own disasters and choose to learn the hard way.
My own life lesson: get dash cams.”
9. Belittle My Career Choice? No More Shower For You
“While in college, I worked at a convenience store. One of my friends/classmates lived in a nearby neighborhood with her husband.
Background info, said friend got married young and had been in and out of foster care growing up.
She was going to school for social work and was so sweet and truly wanted to be a positive influence.
Her husband was a jerk. Controlling, she could never hang out with friends or go to things without him that weren’t school or work-related.
One day he was giving her a hard time, yelling and belittling her career choice. He proceeded to hop in the shower. She went out for a smoke and noticed a guy coming to shut the meter off. This was common as the landlord often forgot to pay the water bill.
He saw her and asked if she wanted him to wait for her to call her landlord (they were practically on a first name basis).
She saw the opportunity and took it. Told him to go ahead and it wasn’t a big deal. She could hear her husband screaming.
(He took abnormally long showers). She went up and offered him water from the back of the toilet. Needless to say, she had to get out of the house, otherwise, she’d laugh in his furious face.
They are divorced and she is happy.”
8. Try To Screw Me Over? You'll End Up Screwing Yourselves
“Many years ago I had an old Buick with a small radiator leak. I used to just add water once a week and it was fine, but it was slowly getting worse.
I saw an ad for a radiator shop that did free estimates.
I gave them a call and they said I would have to leave the vehicle with them. I arranged a ride and when I dropped it off I was told it would be one of three things. If they could patch it, it would be $50, if they could restore it, it would be $100, but if they had to replace it, it would be $250.
These were of course 1980s prices.
Since it was just a small leak I was sure it could just be patched. I didn’t hear from them the rest of the day so I called them the next day. They told me, ‘That radiator is shot.
You need a new.’
I said no thanks and I’d be by to pick it up later. I heard just silence on the other end of the line but figured he was just angry he was losing a sale.
When I arrived I was greeted by a different person than I had spoken with the day before. He had a big smile on his face and said, ‘What can I do you for?’
I said I was there to pick up the Buick and the smile just washed right off his face.
Without saying a word he turned around, grabbed the keys from a hook behind him, then threw them at me.
It bounced off the counter and landed on the floor by the front door. I was confused but picked them up and left.
When I got home it all became clear. I popped the hood and saw that they had removed the radiator and had patched the leak. They painted my radiator and reinstalled it and were going to sell it back to me as new.
Paint was still tacky.
I drove that car for another six years and it never overheated once. About three years after the incident the shop went out of business. The dumb part is if they had told me they could patch or restore it I would have said sure go ahead, but since they tried to screw me they ended up screwing themselves.”
7. If You Won't Look Up From Your Phone, Don't Expect To Still Get Your Sandwich
“About 2-3 years back, I had been motorcycling around SE Florida and stopped in at a Subway in Aventura for lunch. There was one guy in front of me, he was deeply engrossed in his phone. Still, he was before me, so he ordered before I did.
I forget what he ordered, but he asked for it ‘toasted’ (for those unfamiliar with Subway, ‘toasted’ means putting it in an open oven to brown everything. It adds about a minute or so to your order). I probably got a 6-inch Meatball.
After the bread was sliced and the meatballs added, Phone-man’s order was ready… not that he’d notice. The ‘Sandwich Artist’ (cringe) took it out of the oven and asked Phone-Man, ‘What kind of veggies?’
Phone-guy was so engrossed in his texting, that he literally didn’t even hear.
Sandwich Artist stared at Phone-Man for about 3 seconds. He was expressionless, but in my overactive imagination, he was thinking, ‘You absolute idiot. I am creating a sandwich for your nourishment. Can you not put down your pacifier for the 30 seconds it will take for you to instruct me how to do so to your liking?’ He turned to me and asked how I wanted my sub.
We were halfway through my excessive Black Olive application when Phone-Man snapped to life. He looked back and forth confusingly and said, ‘I thought I was here first.’ Sandwich Artist smiled sweetly, put my sub aside, and sweetly said in the most screw-you voice available, ‘I apologize.
I asked you, but you seemed too busy with your phone to hear me. I’ll finish this one later. What would you like on your sub?’
Phone-man most assuredly picked up on the patronizing tone. He looked from Artist to me, me to Artist, and finally to my sub.
In the rudest voice available, he huffed, ‘You know what? I don’t even want it,’ then dramatically stomped out of the Subway sandwich shop. Sandwich Artist and I literally watched him all the way out, now back (dramatically) texting on his phone.
Sandwich Artist smiled and said to me, ‘Did you want more Black Olives?’
Man got a $4.00 tip that day. I got a sub with triple Black Olives. All you get is this story.”
6. Harass And Humiliate Me? Say Goodbye To Shopping With Us
“About a year ago I was working at this massive upscale department store as a sales associate, in a semi-rural area. They had me split my work between touchpoint cleaning and staying behind the register.
This day in April as I’m going around the store and cleaning I see a familiar face—a customer who provoked and manipulated me into feeling angry so he could turn around and get me fired.
I don’t want to focus too much on what he did to me because this is the story of how I exacted revenge on this ‘man’ but here’s the long and short of it.
- The customer is an anti-masker who came too close to my personal space which made me nervous. I’d also call him a narcissist for the reasons you’ll see below.
- There was a spam offer on our signature pads that promised a ‘25% discount’ on an online order.
My coworkers and managers would just skip past it. No one else had issues with it except him.
- He read it and asked me multiple times what my ‘problem was with him’ and that he ‘might have’ wanted to sign up for it.
It wasn’t a good day for me so I was kicking myself when I shouldn’t have. I think he knew this and was seizing on it. He claims he’s a ‘regular customer.’
- I restart the transaction so he can get his blessed inbox spammed and he begins to insult me.
Calls me incompetent, too pathetic to live, ‘weird kid in high school with no friends’ (probably projection honestly).
- He has the ugliest smirk on his face while doing it, too.
- I tell him loudly it’s because of the mask situation.
So as revenge for pressing a button on the screen he reports me to my pushover supervisor, who in turn wants to (or ‘has to’) bring it up to corporate.
- He stares at me with this psychotic, blank expression as he leaves.
His stare is so intense that I’m afraid he’s gonna run into the door with his kid in his hand (yes, he held A LITTLE GIRL in his arms as he did that. She looked absolutely done with life.)
I have to write up a document and send it to corporate detailing the situation and imply legal action if they don’t comply with my demands.
Cite the laws around masks and disability (I’m on the spectrum). They back off but I’m yelled at by the store manager. She’s crapping her pants at this point.
Honestly, I thought the dude was so angry he’d never come back.
I mean, did he think his little ego-gratification scheme was actually gonna work? As it turns out… he did. Less than a month later.
As the high-touchpoint cleaner, I’m tasked with going around the store and cleaning surfaces customers and employees touch.
It gave me freedom and I quite liked it. But it also gave me cover for what I did next.
From what I remember he was by the polo looking at that clothing and I know it’s him from the back.
I look at him straight into his eyes and say ‘Hello.’ In my head I’m trying to mimic his psychotic stare but in all honesty, it probably looked like a glare. He turns around, and by god, he looks almost afraid that I’m gonna hit him.
I didn’t want to… not strongly at least.
He mutters a ‘H-hi.’ Oh that’s satisfying. But not satisfying enough.
I alert my supervisor (the same one who heard his bull crap a month ago) to his presence in the store and he tells me to ‘get him’ if I’m helping him and he starts acting foolish again.
One of my coworkers needs to go to the bathroom so I’m at the register. He interrupts me with another customer and asks me whether or not the dressing rooms are open and his smirk looks noticeably forced. I give a fake customer service line like ‘Only that one should be, sir.’
I’m steeling myself for when I need to help him again but thankfully when he comes out he pivots and walks all the way across the store to be helped by my coworker. He looks my way with a nervous expression.
So wait… you can violate my boundaries all you want, but as soon as you’re feeling intimidated by me, you need several hundred feet of space?
At the time I’m thinking he turned because he recognized the plain-clothes loss prevention folks.
If you recognize them as a customer, you’re doing something wrong. His pivot actually catches one of their attention and he’s looking at him. I walk up to the LP guy and say he should surveil him because he’s ‘bad news.’ So now his shopping experience is extra uncomfortable.
But that isn’t enough. Remember what I said about those fingerprints giving me cover? This basically means I could discreetly follow him around and see if he did anything to anyone else. And if he noticed me and retaliated, it would look bad on him.
This is essentially what happened. I was at the fragrance counter, watching him, but making out as if I’m just cleaning it as per my normal duties. The exit is to my left. When I look up again, he’s at my 10 o’clock.
In full view of the cameras and my coworker, he walks the perimeter of the counter behind me. Oh, the adrenaline’s pumping full force now. I grab the Stapler and unhinge it to clean – thinking it might serve as a weapon if he comes behind the counter and attacks me physically.
He’s doing what I want though. Soon as he leaves, I breathe a sigh of relief.
He heads out to the door and my manager makes it as if he’s opening the door for him. But that smile—a genuine smile, not his smirk—quickly fades off my face as my supervisor pulls him aside and tells our ‘regular customer’ that he’s no longer welcome, and if he comes in again, police will be notified. My supervisor saw everything, and the threat of an impending lawsuit forced his hand.
I played this jerk at his own game, and he lost. Maybe now he’ll think twice before harassing service workers.”
5. Claim I'm Stalking You? I Guess You Won't Be A Lawyer Anymore
“I went to an all-boys school.
Freshman and Sophomore years I wasn’t the most popular kid. Midway through Junior year was when I had my glow-up. I lost weight and the girls at the nearby (4 blocks away) all-girls school were starting to notice.
Mostly, they noticed because I gained a cult following among them since I ran eight blocks every morning (to the girl school and back).
This glow-up momentum carried through my Senior year. There was this one girl at the all-girls school who I tried asking out.
She says no, blocks me on social media. OK, message received. I don’t pursue it any further.
Every Tuesday in my Senior year, I had a meeting with my Psychologist. In order to get there, I would have to walk two blocks in the direction of the all-girls school before heading North 9 blocks.
Apparently, while I was walking to my psych appointment, that girl who blocked me saw me. Twice. So, she went to her disciplinarian to say that I was ‘stalking’ her. Her school’s disciplinarian reached out to my school’s disciplinarian, and they both took her side.
I explained what I was doing, which checked out with my school’s disciplinarian, but he still laid down sanctions for me. There were certain blocks I cannot walk on from then until graduation. I could not say a word about it to anyone until I graduated. I cannot have any contact with her.
If I did, I faced not being able to walk at graduation, not being able to go to prom (not that I had anyone to go with anyway), or just being expelled altogether.
So, I held up my end of the bargain and got my diploma.
The next day, I told everyone what she did.
One of my friends who I told, her dad happened to be her boss. She was going in for pre-law and working as a clerk for a law firm (hiring high schoolers as file clerks back then was commonplace).
Not only was she fired from her job, but there was a hefty blackball on her among other lawyers.
Now, instead of being a bigshot lawyer, she’s a paralegal in another state.”
4. I Dealt With A Ridiculous Liar, So I Tormented Him With His Lies
“A number of years ago, I worked in a large office. Following yet another pointless reorganization, I was transferred to newly-created small team. My teammates’ jobs had nothing whatsoever in common with mine, but, hey ho, they had to put all of us in some sort of team in order to control us somehow.
A new supervisor for our small team was duly appointed. He was a bit younger than the rest of us and had no practical job experience, but he had an MBA, which impressed the bosses, and the rest of us didn’t!
The new supervisor started quite quietly, but he soon found his voice and almost every word out of it was some sort of ridiculously fantastic lie. Not the sort of small white lies that people tell for financial gain or to get themselves out of trouble, but gigantic Walter Mitty-like whoppers, that would make a dishonest fisherman blush.
I take people as I find them, so having no reason to think otherwise, I actually believed some of the early lies, but soon got the measure of him. His lies were so ridiculous that you would almost think that he was setting up a joke, but the punchline never came.
He was a clever, funny guy and otherwise really good company, but his ridiculous lies were just too much to take.
The rest of our team was fully aware of the lies and we often joked about his latest whoppers in his absence.
I remember one particular cracker where he took the story from a popular TV advert at the time and just changed the location to somewhere local and put himself in the story! A guy is in a nightclub with his friends.
Man meets minor celebrity in the toilets and asks the celebrity to pretend to know him by approaching his table and greeting him by his name in order to impress the man’s friends. When the celebrity later approaches the man and his friends at the table and greets him by his name, the man responds, ‘Not now, I’m with my mates!’
This was such a well-known advert at the time that it was incredible that he would use it.
I sat back-to-back with the supervisor in the office, so I was an easy target for him to talk to when he turned around and wanted to share his latest fantasy story.
As time went on, I found it incredibly disrespectful that he thought I was stupid and gullible enough to believe his lies. It is difficult enough to call anyone out on their ridiculous lies, let alone your supervisor, so I had to come up with something devious.
I finally decided to record the details of the lies in detail and created a little password-protected document. Names, dates, locations, events, and all sorts of minuscule details. I almost started looking forward to hearing the latest ridiculous lies so that I could add them to my numbered list.
Now, you need to have a really great memory in order to be good a liar, because the fine details of a lie are much harder to recall than something that actually happened, so that’s where my petty revenge kicked in.
Using my detailed list, I started to raise his previous lies a week or so afterward as though they were somehow so impressive that I wanted to know more and then I would politely press him on the detail, whilst feigning admiration with an open-eyed curious expression on my face, I was inwardly delighted whilst watching him squirm awkwardly as he tried to recall what he had told me previously.
His eyes would roll upwards and he would stare me in the eyes as if that would convince me more! Of course, he always failed miserably on the detail and each error felt like a goal to me. Some of the rest of the team were fully aware of what I was doing, but kept their heads down and bit their lips as they listened in.
I’m not sure that it did much to stop the flow of ridiculous lies, but it made them slightly more tolerable in the knowledge that they would be added to my list and the details would be used to torment him a week or so later!”
3. My Neighbor Disowned Her Daughter, So I Decided To Be Petty With Her
“Some years ago, I was in my early 20s, living at home between graduating college early and grad school. And so I was a lesbian in a small town. My parents were only reluctantly accepting, but for the most part, treated me fairly, allowing me to live with them for free and take a car to work and the gym.
They even helped me to save money from my full-time job. I only used about $30-50/week for toiletries, coffee, and a few foods that they didn’t usually buy.
My mom, however, is an inveterate gossip. She never stops!
In one of these conversations, she mentioned that the woman two doors down had disowned her 19-year-old daughter. For being a lesbian. Like I was. And wasn’t I lucky that they were better than that? How sad!
A few days later, I ran into the lady two doors down at the neighborhood bagel shop.
I asked about her kids. She just goes off about her daughter coming out, abandoning faith, sinning, etc. She said that girl ruined the family. How it’s sinful and she’ll never vote for same-gender marriage, being debated at the time.
She didn’t know I am what she hates. I cracked my coffee mug in an effort not to top it off so it would be scalding, then dump it all over her head!
That would be too obvious. Strict parenting made me sneaky, so I started forming a plan for old-fashioned neighbor pettiness.
This was two months into my nine months of living near her. In the following time, I did the following:
- Whenever my chore was to walk the dog, I encouraged her to poop on the neighbor’s lawn. By the summer, she would ONLY poop there on walks with me.
- Established friendship with the daughter who was thrown out. Sometimes invited her over when my parents were gone or on trips. Made sure her mom still saw her come around. Helped her.
- Called the city/other authority whenever her grass got too long or she made an unauthorized addition or repair.
- Befriended her dog and gave him (Delicious! Safe! But diarrhea-inducing!) dog treats over the fence before she hosted Easter and a birthday.
- Generally and through my mom, used gossip to ruin her reputation. Made sure everyone knew what she did.
Even my small town wasn’t on board with ‘renege all your promises and suddenly hurl your daughter into no-food-level poverty’ because she’s gay.
- Seeded her yard with dandelion fluff in the spring.
- Put up a pro-LGBT sign in my yard just to tick her off.
- If I saw she had guests, I would loudly ask, ‘Hey, where’s Amy? I thought she lived with you!’ so she would have to explain what she did.
- Saved coming out until it was almost time for me to leave.
Then talked around the neighborhood about how I was so happy I had family support. Unlike, cough, others!
The masterstroke came from my former youth pastor and a rather odd website. The pastor pointed out 1 Timothy 5:8 when I was talking with her.
And I found the website that mails glitter bombs. I arranged that the bomb and a letter from me should arrive on the same Saturday. Then I hid behind a tree and waited for the neighbor to get her surprise.
BOOM. Covered in sticky, head to toe, rainbow glitter. Then she opened the letter. Looked up the verse on her phone.
1 Timothy 5:8: ‘If one does not provide for (their) own household, he is worse than an unbeliever.'”
2. Treat My Friend Like Garbage? Enjoy The Glitter All Over Your Place
“I (25F) have a long-time best friend, Emily (28F). For the past two years, Emily has been in a very serious relationship.
I started noticing something a little off in the relationship when they moved in together 2 months after being together—approximately 1 month after his ex moved out (he insists they weren’t in a relationship, just living together still? Suspicious). Shortly after this, Emily deleted all social media as he wanted her to ‘live in the moment.’ No one heard from Emily for probably 18 months.
She reached out to me again recently and told me how her mental health was absolutely circling the drain. She has never been known to have these issues before. She had thankfully started therapy, and her therapist told her to reach out to me.
We started hanging out about once a month and texting regularly. I learned that her significant other was extremely controlling. For example, dinner had to be ready every night no later than 8:30, or he’d have a meltdown.
I have so many stories from her highlighting how awful this guy was, but she always said it was because of his mental health and it wasn’t his fault.
I never really said much as I am not a therapist and I didn’t want to risk losing her again.
About a month ago, Emily calls me and asks to spend the night. She tells me that her significant other has been extremely mean to her, forgot her birthday and Valentine’s day, wasn’t coming home, etc. She asked to come rant and drink with me.
I said sure.
After many, many drinks, Emily let it slip that her significant other HATES glitter. Literally will not have it in their home. He went through her entire wardrobe and all furniture/decorations she owned and made her throw away anything with glitter.
She even threw away all makeup with glitter. One day she came home with a speck of glitter on her sweatshirt. He made her take it off, throw it away, and go take a scalding hot shower. If he saw glitter in the home, he would not move from his spot and would yell at Emily until she cleaned it up for him.
Well, a few days ago, Emily calls me crying. He’s been seeing someone else behind her back and she’s moving out. She wants to know if I’ll help her move out. Of course.
You know where this is headed. I get dressed in leggings, a tank top, and a sweatshirt.
We go over, and pack it up in two separate cars. But before I can drive, I realize I forgot my water bottle inside, so I send her off and go back to get it. As soon as I’m inside, my sweatshirt is off to show off my bright pink glittery tank top.
Loose glitter to add. I walked to the bedroom, grabbed my stuff, played with the dog on the couch for a moment, and went on my way. I took one last look from the doorway and saw a trail of glitter from where I’d been.
When I got back, I convinced her to block his number.
She was way too good and way too kind for him. She’s much better than me! But hey, maybe this time instead of trying to control a woman, he’ll just hire a maid or a nanny since that’s what he actually wants.”
1. If I'm Not Working Efficiently Enough, Then I'll Make You Work Harder
“I (21M) am an apprentice cabinet maker, I’m in my final year (4th) and will be qualified in about a week.
I work for a small, family-run joinery shop that has 4 employees total. We all get on pretty good but the boss can be really hit or miss, he bends a lot of laws so we get extra pay, buys us lunch every now and then, pays above-average wage, etc., but he can also be a massive jerk, swearing and screaming at us if you make a mistake and catch him in a bad mood.
He has kicked holes in doors, smashed boards, and called us all kinds of horrible things during these tantrums. In his most recent one (that I was involved in) he called me an idiot because I was walking the long way around the UTE while loading it (the other way was full of potential trip hazards).
Last week I was running the CNC for him and I needed to file the edge of the sheet, I had my best file and my good ear muffs on the workbench. Combined total probably $80 AUD, along with some other tools.
He decided I wasn’t working efficiently enough and needed to hang the sheet half off the bench so I can do both edges at once, I started moving my things, and while I am he grabs my earmuffs and file and throws them across the shed, onto the floor.
I probably should’ve confronted him but honestly, he scares me.
So I just decided to get even. I waited until the day before he went on holiday and I pulled a sicky, meaning he had to re-plan and reorganize the plan for who did what while he was away.”
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