People Tell Their Beastly Revenge Stories

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Can you recall a time when someone was talking behind your back, bad-mouthing you, or straight-up bullying you? How badly did you want to give that person a taste of their own medicine, but you were too afraid to do anything? Most of the time, it's our own fears that hold us back from giving people what they truly deserve, and those same people end up walking free without a scratch. If you think it's unfair to let a bad person go without getting what they deserve, then you'll enjoy reading these stories where people aren't so shy with getting their revenge.

29. Not Wearing Your Uniform Correctly? You'll Regret That

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“So this happened 2 years ago.

Little bit of background: I work for a security company at a European airport (not allowed to say which) for about 10 years now. 2 years ago I became a high-ranking supervisor. I am responsible for about 400+ agents. Because of that, the law states that I have to follow an additional course of 132 hours + 2 exams to get my degree as ‘security manager’.

Basically, everyone from supervisor to manager needs to have this degree.

The location of this course is at the training facility of the company. Where all security guards of that company follow their basic training, refresh, specialized trainings etc.

And this is where my story begins.

First of, one of the rules state that you should wear your uniform at all times when you do work related things, like a training or course.

One exemption is for the newly hired guards (they get the uniform after the first 2 months of basic) guards from smaller companies (who work for a bigger comp.) and people who do one of the ‘manager’ courses. The uniform is a black pair of pants with a red/white shirt for agents (red/black for supervisors) a tie for the men that needs to be worn every time and completely black shoes.

No other color allowed. Important for later.

I was there with one of my fellow supervisors, in our civilian clothes, and we were in a class with mostly people from other units within the company. It’s been 4 years since we last were at the facility and things changed over the years, so we kind of felt lost there at first.

After a few hours, I spotted a friend of mine, Chris, who recently started the course for aviation security (I helped him apply for the job etc.) and I was talking to him, asking how the course was and some small talk about the airport.

He explained me where the new facility restaurant is, as we were on lunch break, and then went back to his group. This is where the douche of the story, let’s call him Kenny, walks up to me from that same group.

Conversation went like this:

Kenny: ‘Hey man.’

Me: ‘Hey, how are you?’

Kenny: ‘You seem a bit lost here?’

Me: ‘Yeah, it’s all a bit new to me and-‘

Kenny: ‘Where’s your uniform? (points to his own) Never mind, you’re scheduled for the airport right? Did you do your basic already?’

I knew where this was going and I couldn’t let this opportunity go…

so I played along.

Me: ‘Yes… I haven’t received the new uniform yet (which is true, as a supervisor wears a different uniform) I hope it suits me. (awkward laugh) Yes I’m going to the airport after this course. I passed basic a while ago.’ (Which is all basically true).

Kenny: ‘Well, I’m in training right now to be a supervisor there.’

Me: ‘Oh you’re going to be my supervisor? Nice to meet you!’

Kenny: ‘Yeah whatever.

Next time we meet, you better be in uniform. And wear it correctly. Got it bud?’

Me: ‘Yes sir…’

I walk off to the restaurant and told everything to my colleague. We started laughing our behinds off and went with our day.

I texted my friend Chris, and asked for Kenny’s full name and what he was like in class. Chris told me everything. How Kenny was walking around like he knew it all.

Constantly talked back to his instructors, and how he didn’t give a darn about the uniform or the company’s dress code. Really? Kenny also told the group about our conversation and how “scared” I looked. He and some others laughed about it but Chris knew this would backfire. And how right he was… Chris never told Kenny he knew me and who I was, ’cause he knew I’d handle it.

Fast forward a few weeks later. I passed my course the week before and just got my new red/black uniform. I was sitting at my desk going through the names of all the guards on duty today, when I saw Kenny’s name on there! I located his position and went to visit him. He was standing there at the X-ray machine, no tie, black and white shoes and his shirt wasn’t ironed.

He didn’t see me, as he was to busy talking with another new guy, instead of working. I talked to his team leader, who told me he already gave Kenny a warning today about his uniform, but he wouldn’t listen. I said I wanted to see Kenny right now in my office.

A few minutes later Kenny walks in, and doesn’t recognize me at first until…

Me: ‘Kenny! You said I needed to be in uniform next time we met so, here I am!’

Kenny’s eyes widened and realized who I was.

Kenny: ‘oh yeah, I was only kidding sir…’

Me: ‘Never mind dude, however, let’s talk about you. You’re not wearing your tie, your shirt looks like, well, crap, and your shoes aren’t the right color. Not only that, but you ignored your team leader, who I trained, when he warned you about the uniform and you were a real pain during your training. You’re also slacking off at work.

How come?’

Kenny just stood there, looking at the ground, and mumbled something of an excuse.

Me: ‘I should write you up for ignoring your team leader, misbehavior, neglect and slacking off. That’s a 3-day suspension right there. But I’m in a good mood and, you’re obviously new here so, I’ll let this one go for now. Okay?’

Kenny: ‘Thank you sir, I didn’t realize it would be a problem… I’ll behave accordingly sir, promise.’

Me: ‘Great! And oh one more thing Kenny.’

Kenny: ‘Yes sir?’

Me: ‘Make sure next time we meet, you wear the uniform correctly. Got it bud?'”

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28. Some Intoxicated Idiots Wanted To Keep Me Awake So I Made Them Suffer

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“Today I would like to share with you a story about how some inconsiderate intoxicated jerks were determined to keep me awake and I made them suffer by freezing their hair.

I used to live across from one bar and next to another, I was in my late 20s. And there was one dark and freezing winter night, in which two rowdy young lovers left one of these bars and then decided to loiter underneath my bedroom window in the alley for a very long period of time, and of course, they were intoxicated, loud and obnoxious.

I was sleeping when they woke me up. It was around 3 am, the bar had been closed for nearly an hour. I opened the window and asked them to please be quiet and leave. They said okay, quite dismissively, and I assumed they would really go because it was below zero, so it was too cold for them to be there very long anyway.

I waited a little while, but after a while, they still hadn’t left.

So I opened the window and asked them to leave again. They basically told me to screw off. At that point, I got hostile and told them I had asked nicely, and wasn’t going to ask nicely again. They just laughed at me.

This continued on for a while, and every time I looked out, they were leaning against the wall laughing, intoxicatingly, and kissing and smoking.

It’s well after 3. I open the window and tell them I am done with the warnings. So they laugh at me some more, at this point, they think keeping me up all night is friggin’ hilarious.

I then decide that I would like to make them colder, because I wanted to find out how cold they had to be to leave. So I went into my kitchen and got a very large soup pot, and ran the cold water in the sink, until it was as icy as possible and I filled the soup pot up to the brim.

I lugged it to my bedroom window, and slid the window up, the screen was already removed.

They looked up, and saw me smiling down at them, and they blearily waved me off and went back to focusing on each other. At that point they weren’t concerned with me and felt that they had owned me, so they weren’t paying attention when I tilted this soup pot over the window ledge and poured this ice-cold water down onto their heads.

They were not wearing hats.

As the water poured down onto their heads, they screamed and ran, as they ran I heard one of them screaming, “My hair is freezing” which I know for a fact, it only takes seconds to freeze your hair when its wet in cold weather.

I felt pretty pleased with my inventiveness and proudly laughed myself to sleep. They never loitered under my bedroom window again! They thought they could inconvenience me and laugh at me, but I got the last laugh!”

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LorkhansDaughter 1 year ago
Um no offense but do you know how dangerous that is to their health as well?
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27. Lie About Stealing From My Room? I'll Set You Up To Get Caught

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“This happened over 10 years ago, but still makes me smile.

I went to a very uppity private school (predominantly Caucasian, with extremely wealthy people) for three years in high school. I had attended that school for two years as a ‘day student’ (local kids) where I was known as a pretty good kid – good grades, respectful, etc. I went into their boarding school component for my third year there.

Some context: The boarding school students were susceptible to their own set of rules, one of them being a very strict no theft policy. It was commonplace (at least in my house) for girls to leave their dorms unlocked, as there was a high level of trust amongst everyone.

During my boarding school year, I (16F at the time) flew home over Christmas break and had borrowed my sister’s (14F) bottle of perfume.

It was a very distinctive bottle with gems glued onto it, a couple of which had fallen off. I accidentally packed it when I flew back to boarding school. I threw it in my bedside drawer and didn’t give much thought to it – that is, until my sister called me a few weeks later and berated me for ‘stealing’ her perfume and demanded I give it back the next time I see her.

So I check the bedside drawer – nowhere to be found. I tear my entire dorm apart, and question all my friends – no sign of it. I eventually accepted the fact I was going to have to buy my sister a replacement bottle, but I KNEW I hadn’t misplaced it and something about the situation didn’t sit right with me.

About a week later, I’m across the hall in my so-called-friend “Sophie’s” room (fake name) and I see that very perfume bottle sitting on her nightstand.

I immediately recognized it as mine, due to the distinctive missing gems and the amount of perfume that was missing in the bottle. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and very nicely asked her, ‘Oh hey, Soph, did I leave this bottle in your room by chance last week?’

She immediately denied it and claimed that was a bottle given as a gift to her by her mother.

The blood boiled in me as she spewed her BS lie, and I immediately determined I would force her to fess up one way or another. It wasn’t even about the bottle of perfume or needing to return it to my sister anymore – it was the fact that I gave her a chance to give it back without having to admit her lie or cause her any embarrassment, and she still decided to try to get away with stealing from me.

Straight up rude, and I’ll make her pay.

So I hatched a plan. I took a permanent marker and wrote my initials on the bottom of every single bottle of perfume that I owned. I waited until I knew Sophie was in class, and banking on the chance that her door would be open (it was) I snuck into her dorm room and wrote my initials on the bottom of my sister’s bottle of perfume as well.

I played it cool with Sophie and everyone else, making sure to hang out with Sophie in her room a few times so as not to draw any suspicion. I waited a few days, and then reported her to the houseparent. I told the houseparent that I was hanging out in Sophie’s room and thought I noticed my initials in permanent marker on the bottom of the bottle, but I wasn’t sure so I’d like the houseparent to go and check.

My spiel went something like this: ‘Sophie is my friend and I already questioned her about this but she denied everything and I trust her. So I feel super awful for accusing her because I don’t want to accuse her of being a ‘thief’ or a ‘liar’, but….I do know that you guys have a no-tolerance-towards-theft policy, and I do have a feeling that bottle of perfume is mine, so if she did steal it that’s not okay because I just don’t know if I would be able to trust her or anyone else in this house anymore…’

Houseparent sticks up for her character but says they’ll look into it.

They went to question Sophie in her room later that day and checked the bottom of the perfume bottle (which now has my initials on it). Well, low and behold, Sophie pulls the crocodile tears wailing about how she never meant to steal or lie she was just scared of getting in trouble, yadda yadda…

She got ‘gated’ which was my boarding school’s version of being grounded but intensely worse.

I don’t remember all the conditions of being gated, but they included that you can’t leave school property at all, and for the period of time that you are gated you have to sign in to your house’s office every hour ON THE DOT between 8 am and 11 pm unless you’re in class (they seriously reprimand you even if you’re a few minutes late, no matter the reason).

Turns out that school didn’t exactly have a ‘no tolerance’ policy as the houseparent ended up completely falling for her crocodile tears and asked me to keep it a secret so as to protect the student because she was a ‘good girl’ who ‘just made a mistake’ (she never apologized to me, by the way). But they were obligated to punish her, they never caught me sneaking into her room to plant my initials, and she was forced to cough up to her BS due to my scheming which was incredibly satisfying.”

3 points - Liked by OwnedByCats, rbleah and wad
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26. Thanks For The Lies, I Couldn't Have Done It Without Them

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“When I was a young man, I worked managing a children’s after-school project. We had one kid there who could be problematic… and lash out physically at others.

One day he did just that… to me, and I have training regarding restraint procedures. I had to restrain for about 10 seconds, nothing harmful or anything. Exactly how we were trained to do it.

I informed his stepdad when he came to collect him, explained everything that had happened, explained the anger and his lashing out and kicking me, and showed him the bruises on my legs.

The following day, I get a visit from the head of the council department I worked for… a complaint had been made. The police have been informed and I’ve been suspended from all 4 jobs I worked with the local authority… Childcare and youth work, I’d just left the residential social work side of my work.

Turns out that this kid’s mum, had just qualified as a social worker and had started pulling all of the strings that she could with her new colleagues.

She tried to get me arrested and charged with assault.

That went nowhere as there was no case to answer and the police interviewed me and later informed me that they couldn’t even believe it had been brought to them in the first place.

But where it gets crazy… is that there was literally a witch hunt started. Lies were told within the council by this woman, backed up by friends in the same dept.

A sham ‘internal investigation was carried out’ the management committee of the after school project I managed, was directly threatened with being blackballed themselves… this included the site manager of the school, a police officer, and other people who worked with children in some form… they panicked and decided to let me go. But they wrote and told me of the threats made to them.

The council’s investigation’ then relied heavily on this dismissal as reason enough to terminate me from all my other roles.

What they failed to realize, was that I’d been collating everything I could… People I knew within the council passed me copies of emails… I had nearly 8yrs services with them and I qualified for legal help to sue them for the dismissal.

That’s exactly what I did… and they didn’t even want it to go as far as a tribunal, because their case was nonexistent and relied on assumptions and unprovable rumors spread by their own staff.

Let’s just say that I had to sign an NDA and couldn’t talk about it for 10yrs… and I had a not-so-insignificant payout.

Now comes the petty revenge part.

4 years ago, I ran into this kid now a fully grown adult in his early 20s. I was standing behind him in the supermarket and he eventually recognized me and started to say something snotty to his friend about me…

I leaned forward and said… ‘Tell your mum I said thanks, if not for the lies and bull crap she tried to pull, I’d have never had (insert large sum of money here) to buy my house with (it paid 60% of it upfront). Couldn’t have done it without you guys.’

Gave him a wink and smiled.

The look on his face… PRICELESS, he literally started to turn purple and his friend kept asking him ‘What lies did you tell to get him that kind of payout?’

In the end, he dumped his shopping basket and stormed off… I moved one place closer to the checkout with the biggest crap-eating grin on my face you’ve ever seen.”

2 points - Liked by OwnedByCats and wad
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25. Dogs Won't Stop Barking? Meet My Leaf Blower

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“So the neighbor behind me has 3 dogs. For three years, I’ve been listening to them bark, driving me nuts in the summer. Now I get that dogs bark and play, blah blah. I’m talking about at night constant barking here.

Each fall, he sets up a big screen for a couple’s night and they all have their own little bonfire kettle and snuggle under blankets and watch a movie.

I think it’s nice. The movie is usually loud, but it’s once a year and they are always done by 10:30. No big deal.

On this particular night, they are all cuddled up watching away, I’m in my basement and can hear the dogs barking OVER the movie. I started fuming again. Annoyed, I walked outside, and went to the fence screaming at him asking if he can hear his dogs over the movie.

I stayed away from the fence cause this guy is huge and no doubt could kick my butt. He dared me to come to the fence line and say it to his face, needless to say, words were exchanged.

I had just gotten done cleaning up my yard that day, so I grabbed my leaf blower and a roll of tape. sSarted that baby up, taped the trigger down, and went back inside.

5 minutes later there’s a knock at the door. It’s the cops, he called the cops on me. They wanted to ticket me for making nuisance noise if I wouldn’t shut it off. I told them it’s a tool and that I had til 10 pm to run it. While explaining the situation to them, the blower ran out of gas and they said they were glad the situation was over.

But not for me, I was really annoyed.

When I went back to get the blower, I grabbed my chainsaw and the tape. He saw me and was equally ticked off as I ruined the movie for like, 4 couples and him. More words were exchanged, much harsher than before but I didn’t care. The chainsaw gas needed to be emptied for the winter. I can only imagine his thoughts when he heard the first couple pulls on the saw.

This was a couple of years ago, I haven’t spoken with him, or heard his dogs bark at night either.”

2 points - Liked by OwnedByCats and wad
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24. This Brat Tried To Run A Cart Into Me, So I Spoke To Their Mom

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“This was back in April half a decade ago. I was shopping at the Super Target in Colorado mills mall to get a couple of things (clothes mainly, and a bag for my trip to DEFCON) when this little 5-year-old brat tries to run a full cart into me.

Now, this brat has been doing this to every other person it sees, including some older folks. Everyone dodged them and the kid had a laugh at it.

Parents nowhere to be found.

This brat caught me in its sight and decided I was a good target to push the cart into. BIG MISTAKE.

I don’t dodge. Never did. Not even when my nephews or nieces tried it. I was looking through an end shelf when I noticed the brat speeding up to ram me, everybody else dodges so why wouldn’t I right? WRONG! In one swift motion, I locked my cart with the shelves and leaned on it.

The little brat hits me, bounces its head off its cart, flies backward a couple of inches and hits the floor, chipping a tooth sometime in this process. The Karen (clearly had little man’s syndrome) came around the corner and started yelling at me about how her brat is hurt and how I’m a terrible person for ‘hurting her kid.’ I just looked down at her with a ‘are you serious right now?’ grin, which made her furious!

Once she quits yapping like a chihuahua, I boom down at her (deep voices are awesome!), ‘Look lady, you’re lucky that was me and not some old moron who can’t move out the way, and would have broken bones when they got hit.

In 40 years when I’m the old guy I would sue you over that kind of crap’. She looked dumbfounded as I walked right past her. As I go farther down the aisle this (British?) grandmother says to me ‘Good on yah.’

I nod and keep going with a smirk on my face. That was a good day!

It’s like these Karens can’t recognize the meaning of ‘not my circus, not my monkeys’ or ‘screw around and find out.’

Warning to parents everywhere: if you are not going to teach your children to behave well, someone or something else will. And they will not be half as nice about the lesson as you.”

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23. You Want To Snoop Your Daughter's Texts? Good Luck With That

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“So I’m married to a wonderful woman. She’s smart, funny and very kind.

Her mother is generally very nice and tends to have a great attitude and be very enjoyable, a bit of a prude but generally enjoyable, however, can be a bit of a major snoop. If my wife leaves her phone sitting around. her mother will just pick it up and start going through it.

My wife has kind of laughed this off as a remnant of her mom being controlling when she was a kid.

I’m not a fan of this because my wife and I will sometimes text about things that simply don’t involve her mother and I don’t feel are her business at all.

So over Christmas,  I saw my wife set her phone down on the kitchen counter and I had a brilliant idea.

Her mom was still in the kitchen and I sent my wife the most depraved text about all the things I was going to do to her when everyone left. (Honestly most of them are things we haven’t even done, but I had to make it extra scarring…)

I sent this text from the bathroom. And maybe it was my imagination but I could swear I could hear an audible gasp shortly after her phone went off.

When I went out her mother absolutely would not look me in the eye. Then not-so-discreetly asked her daughter to come talk to her in the other room.

When my wife came back into the living room I thought she had been crying, however upon closer inspection she was laughing. Her mother had questioned her about me harassing her and if I always talk down to her like that.

My wife had told her kindly that what we do is between us and us only. Probably the best gift this Christmas.”

2 points - Liked by OwnedByCats and Shell1982
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22. Think I'm A Stupid Woman? I'll End Up Besting You

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“My ex-husband and I bought our home from his parents. They had the house built in the ’50s.

For years, my father-in-law wanted to install a shutoff valve in the utility room to, you know, shut off the water to the whole house to do some repairs. Plumber told him it would cost a large amount of money because they could not find the shut-off from the city water main at the street, the “buffalo box”, a/k/a water main shut-off valve.

Since the buffalo box was MIA, they would have to freeze the pipes to stop the water before installing the shutoff valve. It was an expensive process to freeze the pipes so it never got done.

When we bought the house, we decided to get the shut-off valve installed. We called the water department and they sent 2 workers to shut off the water.

When they arrived, I explained the problem.

They went out to the front yard, walked around a bit, and told me there was nothing they could do for me. According to the 2 workers, it was my problem that they could not find the buffalo box and that I should call a plumber to dig up my front yard, sidewalk, and city easement to find MY buffalo box.

Well, I have a background in residential real estate construction and I was familiar with how water mains and buffalo boxes are installed.

I told them it was the city’s issue, as they were responsible for the buffalo box, not the homeowners.

According to these guys, as a woman, I did not know what I was talking about and they left. They were incredibly rude about it, but peons like these think they can get away with being rude to an ignorant woman like me.

Fast forward to a year or so later.

I get a call from the city manager asking why I hadn’t paid my water bill for over a year. I told him that I wanted to pay my water bill, but I wanted them to first turn off my water. He was a bit taken aback that I WANTED them to turn off the water.

So, I explained what the city workers told me about locating the buffalo box and their attitude about women not understanding those types of things.

I also told him that if the city could not turn off my water, I would be happy to have free water forever, cuz I would never pay another bill. We had a nice long chat about the situation and he said that he would resolve my concerns.

The next day, these same 2 guys show up at my house with some digging equipment and spend the whole day digging up the easement and the sidewalk.

Their attitudes were rather somber, cuz the city manager told me he was going to give them a talking to about how they mishandled the situation. I even got an apology!!!

They found the buffalo box, under the city-owned sidewalk!! They fixed the buffalo box so it would be accessible and came the next day to fix the sidewalk. They asked if I wanted the water turned off, declined, and I told them I would have my plumber take care of it when we had him install the interior shutoff valve.

And then I paid the water bill.”

2 points - Liked by OwnedByCats and wad
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WayneD 1 year ago
Perfect
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21. Feel Like You're Entitled? I'll Hand You Your Trash

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“Currently still on the underground tube where this occurred. I am a person who is very much a stickler for courtesy and following the unspoken rules of life.

So it’s rush hour and I have already waited for three trains to pass, waiting for a train that isn’t rammed with people to arrive, standing exactly where the train doors marry up with the platform. A suitable train then arrives and I move slightly to one side to let a crowd of people off, which is very much the standard.

This woman, who just arrived at the platform, pushes past me and walks THROUGH the crowd getting off to put her way to a seat on the train.

I continue to wait and make my way onto the train, looking around for any available seating. There is one, opposite the entitled woman who pushed her way on. I sit down and smile at her. The rest of the journey continues as normal.

I notice she takes out a plastic bottle with the dregs of a drink remaining. She drinks it, looks around, and then proceeds to attempt to hide the empty bottle by her feet.

I sat there patiently, waiting and hoping that she was about to do what I think she was going to. And sure enough, her stop arrives, she gets up and goes to leave without picking up the bottle. Bingo.

I quickly picked up the bottle and politely tap her on the shoulder, smiling saying, ‘Oh sorry, I think you forgot this,’ whilst handing her the rubbish she left. She thanked me, took the bottle, and left. And now I sit here with a Cheshire cat grin at this ridiculously small victory.”

1 points - Liked by OwnedByCats
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20. What Do Us Lowly Techies Know? I'll Show You

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“I worked with databases. Lots of data flowing in and out from multiple systems. They were all incompatible so we had to do a lot of manual work pulling out the data into Excel files and loading them into our server. All this is to say there was a lot of repetitive work involved with a large capacity for human error.

When I inherited some of this work, I quickly got bored of pulling Excel files and loading them one by one.

There were many of them and I would spend up to an hour loading them. More than once, I ended up making errors, costing me even more time. I decided this task could be easily automated so I set about doing just that. I made an Access database on my machine and setup a macro that would pull all the Excel files into it and name all the tables correctly so that the whole thing could be loaded into the server as one big load.

I then setup a package on the server to load this database. Now my entire task was reduced to two clicks – one to run the macro, and another to run the package. My task went down from one, sometimes two hours of frustration to ten mins of sitting back and waiting.

Cue Chris. Chris is the new hire who thinks he’s god’s gift to man, or at least our team.

He had some prior experience in our industry, and he thought that made him better than everyone else. In reality, he’d just learned to throw around some buzzwords, while completely neglecting the nuts and bolts of the job. He had been hired due to his business knowledge which is fine, but he fancied himself a techie, which he very much wasn’t.

I’d had my share of run-ins with him.

Annoying but we didn’t work on the same team, so I’d just let him brag and move on. It was okay until one day he started telling me how to do my job. I told him what he suggested wouldn’t work but he wouldn’t let up. Finally, I followed his advice just to shut him up. Sure enough, I didn’t get the result I wanted. Cue him insisting I must’ve made a mistake in implementing it.

I rolled my eyes but we weren’t on the same team so I couldn’t do anything just then.

I finally got my chance a while later. I was leaving my job and had to hand off my work to others. I was asked to transfer my data loads to Chris because he worked with the reports produced from my data. Now given that he wasn’t a techie, I should’ve spared the team some trouble and just handed over my macro and package so he wouldn’t screw it up.

But oh heck no, Mr. ‘I can do your job better than you’ was getting the scenic route. I set up an hour-long meeting with him and walked him through the excruciating process of loading all the files individually. It completely went over his head so I wrote up a text document and told him to follow it step by step. Once he claimed he was done with it, I setup another meeting where he’d do it all in front of me so that I could check him.

I ended up correcting him around half a dozen times on that meeting alone and knew he couldn’t handle it. Tough luck, kid. Not my problem anymore.

But the best part of this was I had negotiated an early exit, so I was short on time. Chris setup the second meeting for the Wednesday of my last week. I’d told him repeatedly that I would be done on Friday and he should clarify any doubts with me. Nope, I didn’t hear a word from him after our meeting. I checked in with a colleague some months after I left and found out he was still wasting around an hour and a half loading all those files manually.

I sure hope you enjoy it Chris! What do us lowly techies know?”

1 points - Liked by OwnedByCats
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19. Ruin My Graduation? Hope You Don't Like Salt In Your Food

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“This all happened in 1999.

Backstory: My Cousin Charlette and I are about the same age. We come from a pretty big family (Thanksgivings could be upwards of 35 people) and she was completely self-obsessed. She was seeing a man who was 15 years older than her. She was about to break up with him because she wasn’t sure she’d still find him attractive in ten years (she was 25, he 40) but then he reveals he has over a million dollars because his parents left him a large sum of when they died.

All of a sudden, she’s pretty sure he’ll look just fine in ten years. So she sets about getting married. My mother has only one request: Don’t get married on the last Saturday of May as that was when I was going to my graduation from college. Well, wouldn’t you know it, that’s just the day she picked. Her side of the family downplays it, after all, what is a graduation when compared to a wedding? I grit my teeth and agree to not make a big stink and we all drive six hours to her wedding.

The Story: We get a call the night before to get to the house (it was held at their home) early so we can set up and we should bring our appetites because he’s going to serve us breakfast. OK, fair play. So we pull up the morning of the wedding. It’s family so you pitch in. We walk in and are immediately put to work.

We set up a table in the front yard, and chairs in the back. Over 150 chairs to be exact. We work for over an hour all the time getting hungrier and hungrier. At around ten or so, we ask our uncle where the food is. Well, didn’t we get any when we came in? No, we got there and were put right to work. Oh well, no time now.

Then the caterers show up. Well, it’s a guy that goes to my uncle’s church and he brought two fifteen-year-old waifs. The food is all prepackaged and there’s a ton of it. So my sister gets put to work in the kitchen warming it up, while my brother and I are put to work setting up the serving lines. Now my uncle was one of the cheapest men on the planet, and it was dawning on us that this was a ‘Diamond Jim Special.’ That’s what we called it when he cheaped out on everything and expected everyone else to pick up the slack.

By now, my brother and I have sweated through our undershirts and were looking pretty ragged.

All the while, my cousin is drifting around the house like she’s royalty. I swear to god, if she had just told me, ‘Thank you for doing this, I know you missed your graduation for my big day and I appreciate it’ nothing that happened next would have. But, instead, she walked up to me and said, “You’re going to fix your hair before the service right?

I gritted my teeth and went back to putting tablecloths out.

The wedding comes and goes. The service was fine but 30 minutes late because her royal highness wanted to make an entrance. My sister didn’t get to see the first half because she was still warming up thousands of meatballs for the serving trays. Then, then the service is over and without missing a beat, my uncle looks at my brother and me and says, ‘OK, now move all the chairs out front to the tables.’

My brother looks at him like he’s about to murder him.

But we do it anyway. All the while, we are taking from the guests like, ‘Umm, we need chairs over here,’ and ‘You two really should have done this earlier.’ Like we’re hired help or something.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when, at a moment’s notice, Charlette decides that because some of her favorite flowers were in bloom that she wanted us to rearrange the entire wedding meal so she could take her pictures there, and oh won’t it just be fun for everyone to watch them being taken? My brother and I are summoned and off to work we go.

While this is going on, the caterer and my uncle are just sitting under a tree having a big old time while my sister runs the kitchen and is busting her butt to help these two overworked freshmen. Those two girls looked like they were going to die.

We are beyond hungry, remember we didn’t get to eat that morning, but by the time we finally finished, most of the food was gone.

My siblings and I go back into their house and scrounge whatever is left and sit in the living room; we’re all exhausted and looking for payback.

The Revenge: Like I said before, all of this could have been avoided with just a little recognition for our efforts. But we come up with what we called our severance package. Just a couple little perks for our work.

Charlette’s sister Bess hates weddings and isn’t a huge fan of her sisters, so we ask her what airline they are taking to go to Hawaii on their honeymoon. I get on the phone as the groom. This is pre 9-11 so it was a much different airline industry I was dealing with. My initial plan was to upgrade their tickets to first class. The dude could afford it and we suspected he’d think Charlette did it.

Well, turns out they were all booked. So, quick-witted little weasel that I was, I tell the woman on the line that I was supposed to get the tickets upgraded for our honeymoon and that my new wife was going to be annoyed, so could she please move up to opposite ends of the plane so she won’t badger me all the way there. The woman gets suspicious and asks if this is a prank.

I assure her it’s not and she moves the seats. I then ask for the no sodium meal (because we didn’t get to eat today, she gets to have a garbage meal on her flight).

As the happy couple drove off to their night at a B and B, we waved our goodbyes and headed to a local casino to blow off some steam.

The aftermath: We knew crap was going to hit the fan because Charlette simply sees all inconvenience in her life as the worst thing imaginable.

But what we didn’t know is that Bess decided she wanted in and started really scorching some earth. She called up and canceled their B and B as well as did something to the luggage that no one would explain. Then when confronted pinned it all on us. They had to come back and stay the night with her parents before leaving the next day. We found out this part of the story at 4:00 in the morning when we returned to our hotel to find my mother waiting outside for us.

Now to be clear, my mother is an amazing woman. A woman full to the brim of the cream of human kindness. But that wasn’t the face she was wearing when we pulled up. No, she was wearing the face she wore that time she helped the FBI nail a conman who was trying to destroy our family business to the wall (a story for another day).

This turned into a sore spot from which our extended family never really recovered. I feel bad about that. But in the spirit of giving her an opportunity to even the score I invited her to my wedding. She declined. I’ve only seen her at family funerals.”

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Botz 5 months ago
You are idiots for missing your graduation for that gold digging b itch.
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18. My Old Roommate Was Super Petty, And It Was Glorious

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“Some good pals of mine and some of their other pals joined a recreational ball hockey league at the University of Calgary when I lived in the city from 2007-2009. We weren’t students at the university and anyone could join the league.

One week, we got matched up against this team ‘Broad Street Bullies’, and they were the greasiest dirtiest team we’d come up against yet. Every other team we had played, we played clean and were respectful.

These guys were mostly heavyset older men in their 40’s (and we were all 20 somethings), and they were jabbing us in the ribs with the butts of their hockey sticks, roughing.. all the stuff the league said we weren’t AT ALL allowed to do and no other team did. Problem was they were a veteran team in the league and we were brand new so we didn’t have much sway/didn’t know what we could get away with.

One of my players got sick of it and ripped the shirt off this one guy who had been really giving it to us all night with cheap shots, and then punched him in the face.. the ref banned our player for life. The guy totally deserved the punch as he was being a total jerk ALL game while the ref watched on NEVER giving him a penalty even once.

Meanwhile, we’d get random penalties for things we didn’t even do.

Mayhem broke out and we were all shoving each other and holding each other back. My roommate got in a shoving fight with another guy and aggressively argued with the ref after our player got banned, and so the ref took the other guy’s side and suspended my roommate for the remainder of the game. Was a total jerk move as my roommate did nothing but point the obvious out that the ref was biased.

Fast forward a month or two later. Roommate and I were sitting in the house and a letter came in for him from the University of Calgary. Both of us were confused AF as to why the university was mailing him since he wasn’t a student there, so he opened it to reveal a check for 25 bucks. I asked him why and he thought about it for a few seconds and then a big laugh came out of him.

He had signed himself up to be a referee in the league SPECIFICALLY on a night that the ref who suspended HIM was playing ball hockey on whatever team he played for. He penalized him relentlessly and ruined his night. It was epic pettiness that had me on the floor laughing!

He told NONE of us he did this. There were NO signs of it happening, nothing ever mentioned at work or anywhere..

until the check arrived. It was 100% classic him if you knew him, as he was generally quiet and incredibly sarcastic, and by far one of the pettiest things I’d witnessed to that point in all its glory. Needless to say that that crappy ref wasn’t as crappy the next time we played.

Any time I need a laugh I just remember that check from the university to Mike!”

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17. My Teacher Was Being Audited, So He Had The Agent In Tears

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“Not mine, but a teacher of mine, who I shall call Mr. T. This takes place when I was in high school back in the late 1970s. Yes, I’m old. I was taking a class in finance. Learned how to open a bank checking and savings account. Read the statements. Balance a checkbook. Learned to play the stock market with a dummy account. Learned the difference between DRIP and dividend stock.

Just a little of a wide variety of things dealing with finances.

Obviously, one topic was doing a personal income tax filing. Back then, it wasn’t easy to get a sheet of paper projected on the wall. My school only had one of those projectors. Mr. T hated to use that projector. So years earlier, he had found out that the IRS offered finance teachers a giant, wall-sized, version of a few of their common tax forms for use in the classroom.

Maybe 6 feet by 8 feet long, or close to it. Huge. We spent a week or so learning how the tax forms were laid out and what information they were asking for, where to get that information, etc. they were a great teaching tool.

Fast forward several months and Mr. T. announces to the class that he received notice that his taxes were going to be audited.

He brought his letter in to show us it was real. He said he has been audited EVERY YEAR that he taught finance. He said he loved being audited. After a bit of talk among the class, he told us why he was being audited. Those 6-foot by 8-foot wall charts he used in class, well those are the forms he used to file his personal taxes.

Nowhere on those forms did it say they were a teaching aid and not to be used for actually filing your taxes. Every year he would fill them out and mail them to the IRS in several packing boxes. Cost him a bit more obvious, but he loved it. Each audit was always done in a small office that could barely fit a desk and a few chairs in.

So the agent would pull out these huge forms that spilled everywhere. The agent would inevitably have to reference another form. Mr. T. said by the end of the audit, the agent was nearly in tears. Mr. T. said that he always got a refund, so he would purposely make an addition error at the very end in calculating his refund. He would short himself $2 or $3 just so the auditors would find an error and then have to amend his account to cover the additional amount.

Miss you Mr T. You were one of my favorite teachers.”

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16. My Entitled Brother Felt The Need To Create Drama, So I Got My Revenge

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“I have an obnoxious younger brother, the baby of the family. He was always the ‘good kid’ (compared to me), so my mother indulged him all of his life, which resulted in a spoiled little boy who thinks the world exists to serve him. He has deep daddy issues, even now into his 40s. As his older brother, I am a bit of a stand-in for our father.

I look just like dad and the family often jokes I am a ‘(Dad’s Name) Part 2’. Despite my checkered past, I straightened out and grew into a hipper version of dad, with many of the same interests. This drives little brother (Nicky) up the wall and he has transferred all of his daddy issues onto me.

Even into his 30’s, he was always trying to berate me and criticize everything I did.

Case in point (and here is where the story starts), 10 years ago, I offered to drive my mother to the family Thanksgiving, about 90 minutes away. I picked up my daughter and stopped by Mom’s to get her. Of course, my little brother (Nicky) was there. I’d already banned him from my car due to his obnoxiousness and endless complaining, so he decided (his ‘revenge’) instead he was going to ‘follow us to Aunt Patty’s house for Thanksgiving’.

Never mind he’d been there countless times and knew the way.

I am a ‘journey, not the destination’ kind of dude, I like to enjoy the experience… even if it’s a drive I’ve done 100 times. The drive was nice- daughter in the back seat, mom in front. We took it easy, checking out the sights along the way, going the speed limit. We even stopped a few times to talk about this lake or that scenic view, and even swung through Old Historic Neighborhood to see the houses.

Nicky stayed right on my bumper, flashing his lights when I ‘stopped too long.’ At Thanksgiving, he loudly insulted me to everyone for ‘driving like an old lady.’ When I told him I’d be going home the same way and speed, he snapped. He didn’t have time to follow my ‘slow behind’ and left.

The following year, I told him (after last year) I didn’t want him following me, period.

We’d meet him there. Telling him NO is like waving a red flag to a bull- it sets him off, and he was at my mother’s 30 minutes early, just to make sure I knew he’d be following me, like it or not. He had a new BMW coupe he intended to show off, as well. All I have is my 6-year-old 4Runner. When I showed up, he immediately snapped ‘he was following me, deal with it’.

As we all took off, I headed West instead of East. I played around a bit, trying to ‘lose’ him, but he was on my behind, showing off in the new BMW. I then headed for a new road being built in town. We used to bike the ‘trail’ as kids, and we knew it connected close to a State highway. Heck, mom used it as a shortcut to football practice.

It was still dirt, with mounds of sand and gravel throughout. He tried to follow, but I hit all of the potholes, did some ‘off-roading’, and made a cloudy mess. He tried to call, but I sent him straight to Voicemail. He decided to ‘outsmart me’ and turned around. He raced to the destination where New Road ended, expecting to cut me off and begin following me again.

Of course, once he was gone, we turned around, got back on the main road and took a (third) circuitous route to Aunt Patty’s. Had another nice, slow scenic drive, with Mom telling her daughter all about the ‘used-to-be’s’. Aunt Patty called us (prompted by a ‘concerned’ Nicky, of course), and we told her we were fine and would be there around 1, just in time for Turkey.

Nicky sulked the entire meal. When it came time to leave, I said we’d be staying another couple of hours (mom didn’t complain), even suggesting spending the night. Nicky complained about the ‘traffic’, the ‘driving at night’ and the ‘getting Mom home so late’. I told him he was welcome to leave any time, we’d be just fine. By now, the family had caught on to his manufactured drama and condescendingly asked him if he needed a guide to ‘get back to the place you’ve lived all your life. He left in a huff.”

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15. Think I Need To Learn How To Park? I'll Show You

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“I drive my Black Toyota Sienna, a minivan (wider than usual sedans), to our local grocery shop and there is another minivan parked with its driver side tire touching the white line. Spots are empty on it’s both sides. So naturally, I pull into the spot on its driver’s side. So that my passenger side is to their driver’s side.

There was enough room to squeeze and get into their car without putting a dent in mine.

I go in, and start shopping, thinking hopefully a little inconvenience will teach them to park better next time.

When I’m about halfway done, I hear an announcement asking the owner of the black Sienna to please come forward. I smirk and go there, and there is this behemoth of a Karen ripping into a shop attendant.

The attendant asks me very nicely if I would please pull out my van for a minute, so the ‘lady’ can get into her.

I say of course and we all come out.

While we’re going out, she’s huffing and puffing and still screaming at the attendant about how they ought to ‘keep someone out here to stop idiots from parking like this’ and ‘I don’t know how these guys get a license in the first place.’I feel sorry for her (attendant).

Finally, we get to our spot. Apparently, someone had completely blocked her passenger side door by parking their giant 4×4 over the line.

The problem obviously is that her girth makes it impossible to squeeze through her driver’s side door without denting mine.

Just as I’m about to open my door to get in, she goes ‘You really need to learn how to park!’

I turn around surprised and say ‘Problem is that you’re parked too close to the line on your driver’s side, if you had parked in center of your own spot like you’re supposed to then you would’ve had enough space.’

She says ‘I’m parked completely legally, within the lines.’

That’s when I’ve had enough.

I lift my hand off my van and tell her ‘You’re right, but if you see, so am I’ and walk back into the store.

She loses it, starts running behind me with ‘STOP!! Come back right now!’ ‘I’ll have your car towed for blocking mine’ and ‘Don’t be a jerk, move the darn car’ and to the attendant ‘Do something’ and ‘I’ll sue your behinds’ and so on.

I start picking my tomatoes and onions and garlic and so on, all the while she’s right behind shouting. Everyone’s looking and wondering wtf is going on. After 2 more minutes of that, I finally turn around and tell her, ‘if you wanna call a towing service, be my guest, otherwise following me here is only going to slow down my shopping, and I’ve got all the time in the world.’

And finally it dawns on her, she opens her mouth to say something but decided against it, walks back to the front of the store.

I finish my shopping a sweet 7-10 minutes later, walk to the front of the store for billing. Karen is right there fuming, all red in face, giving me a stink eye, but says absolutely nothing. Although there were 3-4 other customers in front of me, that attendant pulled me to a special returns’ kiosk and quickly checked me out with a smile on her face.

I walk to the car, gently and carefully empty the cart into the back of the car and get in my car, roll down my window to look at the Karen, and slowly pull out with a smile. A little shake of her head, but still complete silence.

On my next visit, that attendant told me she did actually call a towing service, they came after she left and towed the 4×4 because it was parked over the line.

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14. Don't Like Your Partner Seeing Me Braless? Don't Worry, He Won't

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“I live in a college dorm on an all-female floor. I usually wear a bra if leaving the dorm building, but I’m not going to put on a bra under my shirt just to walk down the hall to the bathroom.

A few days ago, I left my room and walked 10 yards down the hall to the water fountain, refilled my water bottle, and went back to my room.

I was wearing a white tank top and no bra (the tank top was fitted but not see through). There was a small group of people hanging out in the hall outside a few of the rooms, but I didn’t think much of it… until around half an hour later, when I got a knock on the door from one of the girls I’d seen in the hall.

She said something to the effect of ‘Hey, so sorry to ask you this, but if you go out into the hall again could you put a bra on? My partner’s out there and he was staring a little, so…’

I’m super non-confrontational, so I was like ‘Yeah, sure, sorry about that!’ and for the rest of that night, anytime I left my room I put a bra or sweater on.

And that was the end of it. Or so I thought.

The next day, my roommate told me she’d overheard the girl telling a few of her friends about the incident while in the bathroom. She said the girl was making it sound like I’d been purposely trying to seduce her partner, wearing basically nothing, taking my time at the water fountain, posing to push out my tits, the whole works.

When she left the bathroom, my roommate said the girl was actually acting it out at the water fountain, pretending to be me.

That night, I passed the girl and some of her friends on my way to go brush my teeth (I wasn’t wearing a bra, I was already in pajamas). The girl looked pointedly down at my chest and all of them started giggling.

But the last straw was when the entire dorm got an email from the RA yesterday, saying she’d gotten some anonymous complaints about people dressing inappropriately in the hallways and asking that we all just make sure we’re keeping things covered up.

So here’s where I got my petty little revenge:

I knew that the girl’s partner doesn’t go to college here (the girl and I were in the same orientation group and chatted a bit back then). I also knew that due to the viral respiratory illness, we aren’t allowed to have non-student/family guests in the dorms this year.

So I used the same anonymous complaint form to issue a complaint about people bringing their off-campus partners into our dorm and them not wearing a mask (masks are mandatory in the hallways, although not frequently enforced.)

This morning, the RA emailed again saying that due to anonymous complaints, they’d be enforcing the no off-campus guests rule by checking IDs of unfamiliar guests to make sure they were students from then on.

Really, this girl should be thanking me. If she was concerned about her seeing the vague outline of my chest in the dorm hallways, she no longer needs to worry!”

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13. She Kept Stealing My Washing Powder, So I Gave Her Dye

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“I don’t mind when my roommates borrow my stuff. We’ve all been there. All I ask is that they replace what they take. You drink my milk? Just buy me a new milk. It’s as simple as that.

Unfortunately, my roommate doesn’t seem to get this. She keeps taking my stuff and when I ask her to please replace everything she takes, she’ll buy one new thing and ‘forget’ to do it the next time despite having more stuff than me.

I finally snapped when I wanted to wash my clothes but only found an empty box that used to contain my washing powder. I don’t buy fancy or expensive stuff and I don’t care about brands. After using the last of my powder a week earlier, she could literally have bought the cheapest no-brand powder in the world and I would have been fine. I just snapped.

I had told her over and over to not use my washing powder if she wasn’t going to replace it and I just had enough.

I bought a new box of washing powder, some dylon machine dye, mixed it with a bit of the washing powder and dumped it into the old box. When the dye is dry it looks like washing powder, especially if you’re not expecting it.

I took my new box of washing powder to my room and waited.

A week later I came home from work and saw her laundry hanging outside, all with a mysterious pink color. She stomped up to me and demanded to know what I had done. I told her I was going to dye my own clothes and someone had told me the shade would be lighter if I mixed it with powder (lye), then asked her why she had used it when it had clearly been in a box with my name on it when I had told her not to use it because she never replaced it?

I don’t think she believed me but she finally got the message. She almost never takes my stuff and when she does she’s quick to replace it.”

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LorkhansDaughter 1 year ago
Haha nice painless way to teach her something
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12. Bad Mouth Me While Assuming I Don't Speak The Language? I'll Kill You With Kindness

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“I am a light-skinned Latina American and I lived in Korea for a couple of years during university and grad school, as my major was Korean Interpretation and Translation. During my time in Korea, I was lucky enough to attend music shows from time to time. For the K-pop uninitiated, music shows are free to enter, provided you have at least 1 of 3 items: a) a copy of the album of the group you’re coming to see, b) proof of purchase of the album digitally on one of the approved music vendors in Korea, or c) the official lightstick from the most recent concert.

Priority entry was always given to official fan club members who had all 3, then fan club members who had 2 of the 3, and then fan club members who had one. After that came non-members in the same priority tier.

The group I had come to see hadn’t opened official fan club registration in almost a decade, so the group’s management decided to do away with the fan club priority and did it on a first-come, first-serve basis, but kept the whole 3 items go first, then 2 then 1 thing.

I had all three and I got there early, so I got a good spot in line. These queues often had us waiting outside for hours while the previous round of filming finished up.

The thing about these music show venues is, that they’re very small. They have limited capacity and allow 2-3 groups’ fans in to watch the film at a time, so not all people who queue for a group get in.

In this particular instance, there was a problem with foreign fans causing trouble by taking pictures, and not listening to instructions, so venue staff literally went through and QUIZZED each foreigner in line on their Korean. If you couldn’t understand, you were booted. I passed with flying colors and kept my spot in line.

HERE’S WHERE THE REVENGE STARTS.

Because of the aforementioned issues, a lot of Korean fans HATED international fans with a passion.

For this group, in particular, so many people were annoyed that they had to wait in line behind foreigners because they’d done away with the official fan club priority. Now here’s me, sitting alone in a queue outside on a hot summer day. A group of Korean girls sat in front of me, and a lone Korean girl talking on her phone sat behind me.

I was minding my own business playing games on my phone after passing my Korean quiz with the staff, when I heard the girl behind me talking crap.

She was chatting with a friend I suspect because she was dropping a lot of curse words, and specifically mentioned “these foreign roaches ruining things for us. I want to kill them.” She mentioned me in particular and said that she bet I’d bribed the staff to keep my spot in line even though I couldn’t understand Korean.

Okay so. It’s harmless crap talk, I don’t know this girl and I don’t know her friend.

In the long run, it doesn’t affect me, right? But it really rubbed me the wrong way, especially because she was talking quite loudly. So I grabbed my wallet, politely and quietly asked the Korean girls in front of me to watch my bag and hold my place in line, and went to the convenience store. I bought a round of water for everyone. It was heavy.

I had about a dozen bottles of water.

I get back to my spot in line, thank the girls in front of me for holding my spot, then gave them each a water. I gave a water to the group in front of them, too. Then I kept one for myself and turned around and handed one to the girl on the phone with a smile.

Immediately she lit up and thanked me in English, smiling bright and taking her phone away from her ear.

As I hand her a water, I say in perfect Korean and still smiling, “The next time you loudly crap talk the foreigners, make sure they can’t actually understand you.”

When I tell you it went silent in the immediate area, you could hear a pin drop. Her smile melted off her face faster than an ice cream cone on Florida pavement. She turned beet red and muttered to her friend on the phone that she had to go and sheepishly apologized. I accepted, she had water, and I felt better about myself.

Bonus: The girls in front of me heard the whole thing and adopted me into their group for the day. Fun was had all around.”

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11. My Dad Was Super Stubborn, So My Mom Took Revenge With Sweaters

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“I just remembered an incident of petty revenge that my mother inflicted on my father more than fifty years ago.

My dad is a great guy with many wonderful qualities, but back in his younger days, he did have a bit of a vain streak, and he’s always been stubborn as heck.

One day, my mom was out shopping and found a sweater on sale she thought he would like.

Before he tried on the sweater, my dad got a look at the label and noticed she’d brought home a size Large.

‘Helen, you KNOW I don’t take a Large!’ he protested.

‘Bob, why don’t you just try it on? I think this one will actually fit you.’

That was a nonstarter. My father dug in his heels and shifted into his pompous mode, and believe me, no one ever did pompous better than my old man.

The dude is a world champ at pomposity.

‘Helen, I always wear Medium, and you should know that by now.’

My mom was not about to get flustered. ‘All right, Bob, I’ll take it back and exchange this one for a Medium.’

My dad was pleased that he’d made his point so quickly and convincingly, and walked away looking smug.

My mom went straight back to the store, but came home with not one, but two identical sweaters: one in size Medium and one in size Small.

Then she grabbed her sewing kit and swapped out the labels.

When my dad got home she gave him the Small sweater with the Medium label, then watched as he struggled to get his head through the collar.

‘Does that fit better, Bob?’

‘Much better, Helen. Thank you,’ he answered, with his eyes bugging out and the sweater gapped open over his belt. Dad wore the sweater around for a while that day, but I don’t remember if he ever wore it again.

One thing I can be sure of: he was not about to admit that maybe this sweater actually did feel a tiny bit snug.

My mom was not normally one for extravagance, but I’m pretty sure having the story to share with a trusted few confidants was very much worth the price of two clearance-sale sweaters. She passed away five years ago, but my dad is still around and sharp as an almost-new tack at age 99. I wonder if the time has come yet to let him in on the stunt, or if he’ll get all pompous at me for confronting him with the truth that he actually did once need a size Large.

Ah, no sense in rushing things. I’ll wait a few more years to make sure.”

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10. My Neighbors Were Junkies, So I Started Hammering My Walls

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“My senior year of college, I downsized and got a cheaper apartment so I could better afford student meals. When I moved in, the apartment over head was vacant. A month later an illegal substance dealer moved in.

While they were moving in, they had customers come over, and during the move in, a loud argument over illegal substances ensued, and I heard every word. I called the cops who confronted them about it.

They claimed it was not true. The cops told them they better not get called to return, and they left.

After that, I was treated to constant loud arguments, substance deals, sounds of violence, constant slamming noises, stuff being thrown on the floor loudly at all hours, pathetic noises, visits from white supremacists with prison tattoos, and oh so much more. The neighbor was trash.

They would stay up for days at a time, then crash hard and sleep for a day or two.

I was suffering greatly. Ear covers didn’t work, cops couldn’t help, the landlord wouldn’t help. I was missing classes, doing poorly on exams, my grades slipped, I got a C and fell off the Dean’s list for the first time in my life. I missed treasured school hockey events, I even ended up in the hospital from sleep deprivation, which took its toll on my health.

I was crying a lot, and felt weak and sick often. I began having seizures from the lack of sleep. I received an invite to participate in a Fulbright opportunity which I wasn’t stable enough to pursue, because I couldn’t sleep anymore. That broke my heart.

One day, I decided that I was fed up, and enough was enough. So I decided to subject them to forced sleep deprivation as well.

My plan was simple, but sometimes simple is the best way to go.

I went to the hardware store and purchased the most sturdy, and heavy hammer I saw. I brought it home, strewed old paintings all around the room, and hung a few nails for show, thus began my revenge.

I had started to get a sense of their binge/sleep schedule, they would stay up for 2 or 3 days on a binge, then crash and sleep for a day or two.

So every time they came down from a days’ long binge, I would be ready for them to crash, and then once I was for sure they were trying to sleep, I would go around and hammer on all the heavy wooden door frames and window sills for a half hour or so. Once they would wake up, they would scream in agony, they were exhausted, and strung out, and had headaches, so the hammering was ruining their peaceful slumber at the end of their crash.

After they would wake up, I would stop hammering, and let them drift peacefully back to sleep, once I was satisfied they were asleep again, I would begin my hammering all over again in earnest to once again rip them from their slumber.

They would wake up and freak out, and then I would laugh and this would go on over and over. I essentially began to torture them with the hammering sounds, and ruin their sleep after every binge.

They sent the landlord to find out what was going on, but hammering in my apartment is perfectly legit in the middle of the day. I expected this, which is why I had already staged my apartment to appear like I was hanging all this art. This was my ruse.

When he knocked, and announced himself, it was right after one of my day’s long off-and-on hammer assaults, so I opened the door with a nail between my teeth, and a painting and hammer in my hand.

I was for sure she had told him I was hammering non-stop to harass them, which I definitely was, but I intended to get away with it, just like they were getting away with their nonsense overhead which was ruining my senior year.

Once he saw I was just hanging/rearranging all my canvasses, he decided there was nothing to see there, and moved himself along. I continued my hammer binges, I still wasn’t getting much sleep, but neither were they, and that made me happy.

They didn’t dare approach me about it, because they had already figured out how I rolled, and expected escalation if they confronted me, because that was my style. So they simply suffered the consequences of my revenge out of fear I would begin to go harder.

After this hammering torture went on for a few weeks, they packed up and moved out. I never saw that neighbor again.

When the cops couldn’t help me, and my landlord failed me, my hammer didn’t let me down.”

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9. My Neighbors Were Terrible, So I Make Sure Their Mat Is Crooked Every Day

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“I’ve had problems with my upstairs neighbors since shortly after I moved into my apartment. I can’t actually remember which came first, the noise issues or ‘the plant incident.’ For the record, I am aware that this revenge is incredibly minor and petty, but that’s kind of the point here, right?

A short recap to give you a little background: I caught the husband throwing plastic containers with dead plants from his balcony into the bushes below in front of my apartment.

I asked him to clean them up but he just threw them into different bushes. I reported him and he was fined by management. On several occasions, the stomping and noise had gotten so bad from upstairs that pieces of my ceiling fixtures would fall and break. I tried asking them to stop but was met with increased hostility until he told me to screw off and report him again.

So I did, and he was again fined by management.

At this point, the major issues have been handled and most of my days in my apartment are peaceful, but I’m still mad that any of this had to happen in the first place. They were rude and inconvenienced me, so I will be doing the same to them. The way our apartment complex is set up, I have to go up the stairs and past their apartment to get to the parking lot.

The stairs are located right in front of their door, and subsequently right in front of their doormat. Every single day I kick their mat so it is crooked, and it obviously bothers them because every single day they move it back.

This has been going on for WEEKS now. My new morning routine is to leave for work and kick the doormat. By the time I come home they have always moved it back, only for me to kick it out of place once again. I will continue to do this until I am satisfied, which may not be for another month or so.”

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8. You Want Me To Give You A Password? Okay, Sure Thing

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“This happened well over a decade ago.

I (19M) was engaged to ‘Whitney,’ we were both young dumb and thought we knew what love was. I had joined the Army and was stationed overseas, and that made a long-distance relationship hard. Especially since we were both not the most mature at that age. Inevitably it blew up and the relationship went down in flames.

She ended things and I was hurt, especially when she tried to keep the stuff I had been sending her for the wedding AND wanted to keep the ring.

She tried to justify it as it was payment for the ‘work’ for the wedding planning. Fortunately, her mom and sister loved me, and I was able to reach out to them in order to get my stuff and the ring back, minus whatever couldn’t be refunded.

But really, who the heck thinks they’re entitled to keep the ring and stuff meant for a wedding that never took place?

Now I had bought her a cellphone and put her on a family plan that I was paying for as before our relationship, she only had a pay-as-you-go phone.

Within minutes of her phone call ending things, she was texting me with information on how to get her phone off of my plan. Whitney immediately called my provider to figure out what I needed to do and started to blow up my phone with the steps I needed to take.

I let her know I’d take care of it, but I was busy at work. Really though, I just hid in the back of the motor pool and had a good cry.

Yeah, she called me when I was at work to break the news.

The one thing she kept harping on was that she needed a password or something for when she called in to take over the line. I needed to call in and remove her number from my account and then give her a password when she called in.

Later that evening, I called my provider and got her cell off of my plan.

The dude who helped me was amazing and he compassionately listened when I told him why whose phone it was and why I was removing it. I was barely holding it together, as we went through the process.

He eventually said that I was all set and asked if I needed anything else. I was like, yeah don’t I need a password or something? Turns out, I didn’t.

Since the number was no longer on my account, she was free to call in whenever and setup her own account.

BUT, she HAD insisted numerous times that she needed that password. So I asked him if he could put something in the notes with that phone number to ask for a password? He seemed puzzled at first, but said that he could do it. Wouldn’t have really mattered and she could have set it up without it, but she didn’t know that.

So I told him that password she needed to say was ‘OP is awesome and I made a mistake.’

He laughed out loud and put it in the notes. I dutifully texted her the password she needed to say and told her she could set up her account. She called me some names, but I later heard from her sister that she actually did end up saying it when she called to setup her account.”

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7. Didn't Promote Me In The Clan? I'll Be Getting My Petty Revenge

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6. My Friends Were Creating Fake Profiles, And I Took That Personally

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“This story takes place a few years back, I was in 9th grade and Google+ still existed. (English is not my first language).

I had 3 friends, let’s call them Toby, Allison, and Spencer. Since we weren’t allowed to use certain social media we chatted with Hangouts and talked about tv series/movies, homework etc., you know, normal teenage stuff. My friends were obsessed with a particular tv-series and talked about it constantly, but I found it extremely boring.

After a lot of pestering, I watched the first season and just couldn’t take it anymore.

Allison at some point thought it would be a funny prank to make a fake profile on G+ and message the rest of us. I knew it was her so I didn’t pay it any mind until it backfired and Allison and Spencer started a merciless war with each other creating more fake profiles, trying to get each other with the craziest messages.

Toby and I stayed out of it, although they tried to prank us too many times, we ignored them.

Some time passed, and they were still at it. Until one night, I got a message in English from some kid my age who ‘just wanted to chat’ with a Chinese username, posts in Chinese, and after thinking about it, I said, what the heck, it’s probably not one of them, it’s not their style (we’re not Chinese).

I started chatting with the guy, and as the days went by, it became more and more pleasant. I revealed some family problems that I hadn’t told my friends (call it a hunch) and even though I didn’t get excited, this ‘friendship’ was relieving, kind of like writing a diary. At some point when I mentioned it to my friends, Allison and Spencer started giggling and told me it was another fake profile, made by Allison specifically to prank me since her previous attempts were fruitless.

And I took that personally. I kept my cool but inwardly I was boiling with anger. Not only had I made a stupid mistake, I had also revealed my secrets. And I couldn’t stop wondering why Allison wasn’t as understanding in real life.

So the same moment I started planning my revenge and when I got home I made a PLL profile, followed every PLL G+ community/fan account, posting photos of the actors, and at school, I listened on their conversations just to post the same things they said.

I actually waited about a month just so they wouldn’t suspect a thing, and by that time the fake profile war kept going strong.

I started with Allison first. At the beginning, she thought it was Spencer. Then I messaged Spencer and she thought it was Allison. I even made some grammatical errors and misspelled a lot, which they knew I never do to keep my cover.

I kept chatting with both for days, while they both tried with no luck to ‘unmask’ the other. They even started fighting for real before teaming up to come up against the enemy, then they started fighting again. It came to a point where they wouldn’t talk to each other in fear of ‘disclosing’ information lol. I drove them so crazy they almost forgot all the other fake profiles.

Then they teamed up again and used the fake profiles to take down the common enemy, but they both still suspected the other. This went on for a little more than a week until I decided they finally had enough and the beast inside me was now sated.

For the final act, I started chatting with Allison from both my accounts (real and fake) at the same time, and made her think I was Spencer the entire time.

She got so angry that she started spamming Spencer (who was actually visiting her grandma during that time), and demanded to reveal herself. And I did. I video called her with a closed camera, she cursed at me thinking I was Spencer, and then I opened my camera for the big revelation. She instantly paled while I laughed. When I calmed down I explained to her what I did, and she was mad at herself for taking the bait more than she was mad at me. Anyway, I assumed she’d talk to Spencer about it so I didn’t do anything else, and we went on with our lives.

And thus, the Great Fake Profile War was soon forgotten, and no more Fake Profiles were used ever again. Google+ also bit the dust later on along with my friendship with Toby, Allison and Spencer.”

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5. You Plan On Eating The Entire Family Sized Bag Of Chips? I'll Get You A Special Snack Next Time

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“This was about ten years ago. Gardetto’s of all things reminded me of sharing snacks with my brothers on movie night and how I hated sharing out of one bowl because my brothers would eat all the tasty bits and leave nothing but plain breadsticks, even if it was a communal snack. It was literally competitive eating and I learned quickly to get my own bowl if I wanted pretzels or rye slices.

This eventually led to everybody just picking their own single-serve snack and calling it good.

My littlest brother is a big guy, taller than anybody else in the family. And he liked his food. My belt loops say I don’t have any room to talk myself, so I’m not putting him down in any way; this was just the fact at the time.

After venturing into adulthood, I was back home for an extended visit.

Both my brothers were still living at home and by this time, movie night was a bygone memory. Buying snacks for the weekend was still a thing though. Not sure if it was early in my visit or if I had just missed the snack boat, but I ended up without one weekend.

My youngest brother came home with a family-sized bag of corn chips and a jar each of cheese and salsa.

What a guy! He’s so sweet! He’s… taking it all into his room. Not a huge deal, just not how I remember things operating.

I don’t need snacks, but after listening to the bag crinkle from the living room for so long, I caved and asked if he’d share a bowl.

Flatly denied. ‘Not enough to share.’ He wasn’t a jerk about it exactly, he was apologetic in his ‘no’ and I respected it.

Pulled a face maybe but I’m not starving, I just wanted something tasty. And he had paid for the food with his own money, not the family’s, and was within established house-boundaries.

The thing my brothers might not have even noticed about themselves at the time was that they would eat what was opened until it was gone. It didn’t matter to them the amount of servings in the package, it would all be eaten.

The after-effects of growing up with tons of siblings (we have more but they aren’t a part of this story). If you didn’t get in and get it when there was some, you probably wouldn’t get any.

So I decided to kill my brothers with kindness and instead of sticking to buying just myself a snack, I gave each of them a one-pound bag of dried apricots.

I bought myself drinks and went to a friend’s for the weekend.

My brothers never said anything to me, why would they? But my dad and I were talking later that week and he wondered if there was a flu going around because my brothers had spent the weekend fighting over the upstairs toilet. I laughed so hard and had to tell him what I did. He had been big into pranks in his youth and appreciated the humor of it.

He was my muse in this situation, honestly. He laughed a bit about it but did give me a stern look that said I wouldn’t be pulling a similar stunt with him, should I be inclined to try.

I only just remembered this while talking with my mom, who was completely clueless about the interaction. I wonder if my little brother will find this post and I can finally live guilt-free.”

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4. My Father Was Horrible, So I Played Whack-A-Mole With Him

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“This story happened in Arizona in 2020 back during the “world pause.” I am honestly not sure if this counts as revenge, but it’s definitely petty and a funny story regardless. To clarify, I am not a Muslim (I almost converted to Islam out of spite about five-ish years ago). I had a couple of Muslim friends over the years and I am also not the kind of person to crap all over your beliefs unless it’s something really stupid.

With that out of the way, on to the story. Back in 2020, I was living with my parents (I still am, I just recently found a good-paying job, so I’m currently saving up to move out) and I was chauffeuring my ever-intoxicated dad around because since all the bars were closed due to the viral respiratory illness, him and his drinking buddies still wanted to hang out and get and to that end, they would gather at a friend’s house under the guise of ‘helping him since he has health issues and doesn’t have a lot of money’.

I still have no clue how that ruse worked and I honestly could care less.

Since I was stuck at home with nothing to do, my dad liked using me as his personal chauffeur, I was a designated driver, but he always called me ‘chauffeur’ (maybe he needed me around to take the fall in case the ruse was found out or maybe he likes having power over me.

Again, don’t care). Well one day, we’re driving home and he gets into one of his intoxicated ramblings and he starts spewing all kinds of hateful stuff and I’m having none of it. We approach an intersection and I see the light change yellow and I get an idea. My dad doesn’t notice, so I speed up and as we get closer, I say ‘Hey dad, you ever played Whack a Mole?’

I slam on the brakes and quickly reach over and unbuckle his seat belt.

He goes WHACK! right into the dashboard and as he comes up, I hear him shout ‘What the heck?!’

I play it off saying ‘Oh there was pig in the road. I didn’t want to hit it and mess up the car.’

I might have knocked him sober because he suddenly seemed in a much more sober state of mind. We continued our drive home all the while I’m desperately holding back my laughter.”

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3. My Coworker Brings Her Dishes To Work, So We Bin Them

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“A co-worker who has consistently been lazy and tries to sabotage my work station while the manager is working to show that someone is worse at their job than her, is routinely bringing in her dirty dishes for us to wash thinking we wouldn’t care or notice.

I’m a server and we do have a dishwasher on certain days but oftentimes, if it’s slow, the dishwasher won’t come in and it’s up to the servers to wash the dishes from service.

As you can imagine, this can lead to us being torn from two places at once hence my repeated frustration at her bringing her dishes in the morning and dumping them for a server to do instead of her quickly putting them through the dishwasher herself. But that’s just who she is as a person hence why I’m more than fine throwing away her dishes in the morning.

I could write a novel on all the stuff she does to screw over her co-workers (one instance when she called in sick twice in less than a month leaving a coworker to handle a morning rush all by himself just so she could recover from a late night of drinking. We knew she had been drinking on both occasions since she also likes to use our commercial bins for her rubbish and found that morning she had dumped a bunch of bottles of booze in a delivery box with her name on it.

Plus she was actively walking down the street in front of the restaurant where we could see her).

She got in trouble for leaving half-filled mugs of coffee in the storeroom until they had curdled so now she’s dumping them for us to wash. I’m not paid to do her dishes, so I’ve taken to the habit of if I see them, I bin them.

Surprisingly, she’s not bringing in her dirty dishes anymore.”

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2. I Followed My Orders, But Somehow My Boss Didn't Like That

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“I was on the IT staff for a manufacturing company based in the area. They have 5 locations within driving distance of me. My job required supporting the five locations.

My boss told me a few weeks into the job NOT to make any special trips to any of the other locations (I was based at the main plant.)

When we got new employees, one of the other IT guys in another state sets up the new machines and sends it to me to hand out to the new employee.

One day, I get some new laptops for employees in one of the remote locations I support. Following my supervisor’s explicit instructions, I decide I will make my normal trip to the remote site the next day.

My supervisor comes in and asks why I didn’t take the new laptops to the remote office. I told her I was following HER instructions and was planning to take the machines the next day.

She gets upset with me and tells me I should have known that this was the exception. I offered to make a special trip up to deliver the laptops, but she told me she would have the new full-time IT guy take them up.

They still didn’t get delivered until the next day, as the new guy didn’t make the trip until then. Guess it wasn’t that important that the new employee get their laptops that same day.

Suffice it to say my contract job ended the next Friday.”

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1. I Faked Proof Of A Flat Tire So That My Lazy Group Members Would Fail

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“I’m in a class where a group research project/presentation is a huge chunk of overall points. Everyone knows in group projects you always have that one slacker who doesn’t do anything that you have to compensate for. However, I got stuck with possibly the worst 3 people to be in a project with in the class.

I did the entire research, presentation, poster boards, etc. among many other annoying things myself.

I tried talking to them and telling them they needed to put in their share of effort. Ignored. I’d send them tasks to do, ignored. I’d try to schedule meetings, they’d say they were coming and then leave me alone at the library. This happened from the get go. It was abundantly clear that they expected everyone else to do the work, but ‘everyone else’ turned out to be just me.

Rule: we couldn’t have things 100% memorized word for word, and we couldn’t read off of anything. We had to actually know the subject. I was fully prepared to do most of the talking and even wrote down a small script for them and told them to know what to say during their part, at the very least. The night before I told them, we had to meet to at least go over the whole thing one time.

Once again, none of them showed.

At this point, I’m livid and decide they can just do it themselves, which means they’d get up there, not know a thing to say other than the small info I gave them, and couldn’t even bull crap anything because they did no research. Thing is, if we miss without an excuse, we fail the project. If you have an excuse, you have to have documentation.

I commute and live an hour away, so I decide that I’ll conveniently have a flat tire right before class. Went out and actually bought a tire so I could have the receipt to prove it. Emailed the professor, who said I can present by myself during his office hours. Turns out, they completely bombed, and not only probably failed the project but since they’re bad students, might even make them fail the class.”

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