People Spill Their Engrossing Revenge Stories
20. You've Been Warned
“We don’t own a car and live at the end of a cul-de-sac, and I have people use my driveway all the time to turn around. It’s not a huge deal to me, a little annoying when they compact the snow and it’s harder to shovel, but whatever.
One of my neighbors had a ride service come pick up their child every day. The van would park in my spot and begin honking at like 8 am (I worked nights at the time).
Half the time he’d be half parked on my grass. I told my neighbor that I don’t overly mind my spot being used, but not if the guy is going to honk like that every morning and especially not if he’s going to drive over what little lawn I have every time.
She spoke with him, he ignored it. I spoke with him and got ‘what’s your problem man, it’s not like you’re using it.’
To which I repeated that I don’t mind him using it if he stays off my grass and doesn’t honk every morning.
Apparently suggesting he wait until the kid notices he’s there or, god forbid, he has to drag his butt out of the car to knock on a door was just ridiculous and inhumane of me.
So I left a recycle bin at the foot of my driveway. He just ran over it.
I called the dispatch for the ride service and was told they are subcontractors and technically self-employed but they will pass along the message.
I wake up the next day to pounding on my door. Dude is ANGRY.
Him: ‘How dare you call my boss you stupid piece of trash! What is wrong with you?’
Me: ‘Well it’s quite simple, you were told not to use my driveway if you were going to drive on my lawn and wake me up every morning.
Now get off my doorstep.’
Him: ‘I’ll sue you if I lose my job because of you.’
Me: ‘You’ve been warned. Don’t trespass on my driveway or property again!’
Dude storms off in a huff spouting curses. So this happened on a Thursday, the kids had a PD day the next day, and it’s supposed to be one of those delightful Canadian weekends where it drops to like -40 Celsius.
For my American friends, -40 is where Celsius and Fahrenheit meet up, so it’s freaking cold. So that night, I grabbed one of my more beat up plastic garbage bins, made sure to plug all the holes with a generous amount of duct tape, stuck a sign on it that read, ‘private property, driveway not for public use’ and proceeded to fill it to the brim with water.
Now, before anyone thinks I’m a jerk willing to potentially endanger the other kids in the car, I’d like to point out that my neighbor’s kid is the first to be picked up, so it’s just him in the car.
Cue Monday morning. He sees the garbage can, backs up a bit more, and defiantly charges the can as if to teach me a lesson. He then proceeds to cause some pretty serious damage to the front end of his car.
Dude gets out fuming, calls the authorities, and comes pounding on my door, screaming about how I’m going to buy him a new car and that I’m about to go to the slammer.
Officer: ‘So let me make sure I understand this situation. He asked you not to park here if you couldn’t refrain from honking, then warned you not to park here and put up a barrier.
Now you expect him to be charged and pay for damages you caused yourself to your vehicle in an attempt to destroy his own personal property?’ I will never forget the look on his face when the officer said, ‘Yeah, that’s not how this works.’
He then turned to me and asked if I wanted to pursue charges for him damaging my personal property. I just gave him the biggest grin I could muster and said, ‘Nah, I think we’re good.’ I then went back inside to enjoy a morning coffee while watching him from my kitchen window as he paced back and forth in the cold waiting for a tow truck and having to call the company he worked for to explain why they needed to send out another driver to complete his route.”
19. Don't Pay Me For My Work? Here's Your Snow
“I live in New Jersey and we just had a snowstorm so I thought I could make a quick buck by shoveling driveways. I start off and do a couple of houses and make about $80 (pretty good amount for me).
So I go to this house and this lady says that she will give me $50 for shoveling her driveway and sidewalk. I finish about 20 minutes later. I go up to the door and knock but she won’t open so I go to the back door and knock but she still doesn’t open.
Then I see her looking at me through the window but she quickly turns away and pretends as nothing happened. At this point, I realize that I just got tricked into doing a ton of work and I’m not getting paid.
I start to walk home and then remember that my friend who lived down the street has one of those machines that clears snow. (Let the revenge begin.) I borrow it from him and run down to her house.
I turn it on and blast that snow that I shoveled and some more all on her yard. Then she rushes outside and starts yelling at me but I return the machine to my friend’s house and go home.”
18. Get On My Nerves? Have Fun With The SWAT
“This happened about a year ago. I had just returned from a business-related trip to the frozen north (Canada) of which I had been gone for about 8 months.
During this time my wife had kept me apprised of everything going on in the neighborhood, as well as her suspicion that our new neighbors behind us (henceforth known as SDN for Substance Dealing Neighbors) were dealing illegal stuff.
Since I’m all about keeping my family safe, I install security cameras all around and inside my house.
Most of my neighbors were perfectly fine with the cameras, and a few asked if I could set theirs up if they bought them.
SDN, however, was not pleased. He waited until I was heading out to my car and confronted me, DEMANDING I take them down.
SDN: HEY! Take those cameras down. I don’t need anyone knowin’ my business!
Me: No. They’re watching my property. Can’t see into your yard at all.
SDN: Man, SCREW YOU! Take those stuff down or I will!
Me: I ever see you on my property, you’ll leave in a body bag.
At this point, I know my wife’s suspicions were well-founded. I watched the camera feeds and started noting that he had a lot of quick visitors around 3 am. Cars would pull up in front of MY driveway, he’d meet them, exchanges were made and the cars would leave.
Not too long after, I got a motion alert on 2 of my cameras and my dogs started going nuts. I saw my front door handle move. It’s going time. I grab my shotgun and rushed to the front door, but as soon as I tried opening it my beagle tried bolting outside, howling at the trespassers.
Unable to deal with him AND properly hold a 12 gauge, I opt to keep my dog and yelled at the 2 men standing there to get off my property. That night, my motorcycle was stolen (they broke the locks off) and every camera on the ground floor had to be repositioned/replaced. I checked the footage and watched as SDN walked up to them and hit them.
I was done being a bystander.
I contacted the police, but even with security footage, they claimed there was nothing they could do. I was furious. I knew who did it, had the proof, and there was nothing I could do about it… yet.
For the next couple of days, I studied municipal and building codes. I started filling in report after report on my SDN. Broken down cars in the yard, that’s a violation. Broken gutters hanging off the roof, that’s a violation.
Barking dogs after 10 pm, that’s a violation. I nickel and dimed them for anything I could hoping to goad them into doing something. I put tainted gas in a gas can on the back of my Jeep (which was unsurprisingly stolen) and suddenly their dirt bike engine blew up the next night.
SDN confronted me again, threatening that if the complaints didn’t stop, he couldn’t guarantee my dogs or my wife would be safe. Heated words were exchanged, he stormed up to me, and the encounter ended with weapons drawn and both of us going back inside our homes.
Finally, the coup de grace: remember the security footage of SDN’s late-night visitors? I filed a report with the Counter-Substances Division and included EVERYTHING. License plate numbers, car models, and colors, all the information I’d gathered for the past few months.
They got enough security footage for a search warrant, and the other evidence made sure it wasn’t a ‘friendly’ visit.
I got to watch the security cameras as SWAT descended on their house.
I got to see SDN and everyone else led out in handcuffs. I later found out that the dogs I had called about were being bred and used as bait dogs. The police confiscated a small arsenal and enough illegal stuff that those jerks won’t be out of jail until I’m retired.”
17. Refuse To Pay For Public Transport? Talk To The Conductor
“I work as a train driver, I drive smaller trains mostly out on the countryside and people are generally nice and well behaved. But ofc, there are also the heavy-drinkers, addicts, and general weirdos that use public transport, and some people that just live to be a pain in the butt.
This was a few years ago, we were traveling in the late afternoon and my conductor (let’s say C) storms into the driver’s cabin, angry and annoyed, and tells me:
C: We have 2 rude good-for-nothing guys onboard and they’re such jerks!
Me: What did they do??
C: They have no tickets, refuse to pay, just laugh up in my face and are saying: What’re you gonna do about it?
Me: What the heck, should I help you throw them off at the next stop?
C: We can’t because they’re just traveling 1 station, so they’re getting off at the next stop! God darn smug guys with their ‘what’re you gonna do about it?’!
So we’re both angry, I let the conductor rant and let off some steam.
The next stop comes and the guys get off, the conductor angrily gestures at them ‘that’s them, jerks…’ We continue the short remaining journey and have a break at the end station, some hours later the train then goes back.
Since it’s in the countryside and it’s a late weekend evening, the train is almost empty on the way back. The conductor knows where every passenger on board is getting off and she’s up in front with me chatting and all is fine again.
Until…
We approach the station where we let those guys off. We see 2 people standing there. It.is.them. My conductor beside me shines up like a God darn sun. She says, with the biggest smile on her face: Do not stop.
And I’m just laughing, slowing down the train, not stopping though. When we pass them my conductor opens the window, waves, and says loud and happily: THIS IS WHAT I’M GONNA DO ABOUT IT!
The guys are just staring at her with their jaws on the ground when we drive past them.
We laugh. All the way to our home station.
We were on the last train for the day.
Edit: We encountered these guys again a few weeks later. They apparently got on at the same station as last time but we didn’t notice them, they had plans to travel further than last time, but when the conductor went out to check the tickets it went like this:
The conductor spots them, recognizes them, says loudly among the other travelers: OOH, ARE YOU ABLE TO PAY FOR YOUR TICKETS TODAY!?
They just fidget and say ‘no we ain’t got no money.’
C: Well ain’t that a shame!! Guess you have to get off at the next stop!
Them: Oh god, can’t you be nice and let us be? What are we gonna do at that trashy station?!
C: Guys, I don’t give a darn, you’re going off this train and you can walk to the next station, and I’m calling the train behind us so they won’t pick you up either.
They got off, the other train called us later because they saw the guys walking on a forest path along the railway track.
And I haven’t seen these guys since.”
16. Shame Someone On The Radio? Get Pranked
“This story takes place in the distant past, before cellphones were common, and before universal caller ID was the norm, in a time dinosaurs most likely roamed the Earth. Well… the 80s, at least. These things are very important to this story.
Our tale takes place in a large west coast city known for a big orange bridge and delicious sourdough bread. I was living in the city for several months working temporary duty for my company and was preparing for work on the day in question.
As was my custom I was getting dressed listening to the morning radio show on a local station. This station’s jocks had started doing something called ‘the Monday Morning Wake Up Call’, where, on the first day of the week, they would make a prank call on the air to a victim chosen from write-in suggestions from the listening audience.
Doing this was actually very controversial in radio circles at the time: I had been a radio DJ in my hometown for a few years, and there are rules you must follow. One of the biggest rules is that you can’t make a false or deceptive radio transmission, like announcing an emergency, sending an SOS, crying for help, or other such deceptions.
Doing so is a federal offense: you can lose your license and be fined, or even do jail time. It’s a big no-no. The debate has long since been decided, but at the time doing prank calls on the air was a gray area; there were people who were sure it constituted a false transmission, and some stations refused to do it.
The argument was still alive at the time this happened.
This day happened to be Monday, and the intended victim had been nominated by her husband: they had experienced a power failure at home earlier in the week and the husband’s suggestion was that the station calls his wife, claiming to be from the utility, and tell her that the power outage was somehow their fault and they would have to pay for it.
The station staff loved the idea, and they proceeded to call the wife at her place of employment, a local bank. The victim answered and the prank began. ‘Hello, is this Mrs. Victim?
I’m John Doe from Area Power Company. Do you remember having a power failure earlier this week? Well, it was due to a blown transformer on your block and we’ve determined that the cause is a wiring fault in your house.
We may have to cut off your power until you get it fixed. Also, you will be charged for the transformer. The total cost is X thousand dollars. Would you prefer we put that on your utility bill, or do you want to make other arrangements to pay?’
As you might imagine, the woman was shocked, then scared. As she asked for more information, having trouble believing that they were going to have to pay thousands of dollars, she got increasingly more upset.
This egged the radio staff on and the guy making the call kept increasing the pressure on her more and more, eventually telling her that her power would likely be cut off until payment was made and that there might be a lawsuit.
After several minutes she suddenly hung up in tears. He called her back, and when she heard his voice she hung up again, crying even harder. This time the guy waited a minute – and then called back again.
Another lady answered the phone, a coworker, and he asked to speak to Mrs. Victim. When the coworker asked his name he replied ‘This is her husband, (distinctive first name).’ The coworker cursed at him, called him a liar, and hung up.
The radio studio was filled with laughter: the jocks thought it was hilarious. They took calls from listeners who were all laughing and talking about what a great prank it was. They finally got the husband on the phone and he was also laughing and joking that he’d surely be sleeping on the sofa tonight.
He was congratulating the radio staff on the fine job they had done terrorizing his wife. The radio hosts promised the listening audience that, because the prank was so funny, they would certainly be playing the whole recorded prank again at noon, so ‘Be sure to be listening, and call your friends!’
I, in my efficiency apartment listening to this, was getting mad. I was still pretty newly married, and couldn’t imagine doing something like that to my wife. All I could think of while the staff and listeners on the radio were laughing was that, a few miles away, a young woman was in the ladies’ room crying, probably with coworkers trying to calm her down.
What made it worse to my mind was that the guy who set her up for this was the one guy in the world who should have her back: her husband. Anger turned to resolve, resolve formed a plan.
I grabbed the city phone book (remember – it’s the 80s!) and looked up two phone numbers. I called the first one.
You may remember that I said I had been a radio disk jockey myself.
It was a tiny, dawn-to-dusk station, but I knew how stations worked: I knew what they liked, and more to the point, I knew what they did NOT like. I also had done a lot of voiceover work and could sound professional as heck.
The phone rang and was answered. ‘You’ve reached K, Radio Jerk!’ I launched my attack.
Me – (Professional voice) ‘Yes, this is George Smith (I picked a more believable name) from the (City) Office of the Federal Communications Commission.
I’ve been getting some disturbing calls about your morning radio show, and I need to speak to your Program Director to discuss it.’
Radio Guy 1 – (Stammering) ‘Uhhhh… he’s not, um… here right now… letmegetyousomeoneelse!’
I was put on hold. After a few moments…
Radio Guy 2 – (Also stammering) ‘Hi… um, hello… uhhhh this is Radio Guy 2. Um… you’re from the FCC…?’
Me – Yes, this is George Smith from the (City) Office of the Federal Communications Commission.
As I told your coworker, I’ve been getting some disturbing calls about your morning radio show, and I need to speak to your Program Director to discuss it.
Radio Guy 2 – (short silence) ‘Uhhh… he’s not in yet… he’ll be here at, um, nine o’clock…’
Me – ‘Ok, well I can start with your station manager since he will need to be in the conversation as well.’
Radio Guy 2 – (breathing fast, starting to lose all his composure) ‘Oh, wow, um… he gets in at nine too… I, um, I… I can, um, can I have him call you?’ He half-asked and half-pleaded.
Me (letting out what I hoped was a bureaucratic-sounding sigh). ‘Very well. I will expect to hear from him at nine. I will need to speak to your Station Manager, your Programming Director, and very likely your on-air personnel from this morning.
I’ll also need your station logs.’
Radio Guy 2 – ‘Oh, yes sir! I’ll make sure he calls you right away!’
Me – ‘All right, I’ll be expecting his call. Here’s my number.’
At this point, I gave Radio Guy 2 the second number I had looked up in the phone book: the main number for the (City) Office of the Federal Communications Commission. Radio Guy 2 stammered his thanks and promises of phone calls and we hung up.
I went back to the radio.
Jerk Disk Jockey – ‘UHHHH OOOHHHH!!! The FCC is calling! Well, They can’t do anything to me… I’ve got a year of pre-law in college and blah blah blah…’ he continued his defiance for a few minutes and then went to commercial. I kept listening.
They stopped talking about the prank call.
They stopped taking phone calls from listeners.
They stopped talking to the husband.
They started playing music. A LOT of music.
I listened for the rest of the day.
They didn’t talk about it the rest of that day and they didn’t replay it at noon. In fact, for the rest of the week, I listened and heard nothing about it. I was a bit surprised: I figured that they might stop talking about it for a little while, but not altogether.
It wasn’t until later that I realized why they went so silent.
I had scared them.
In my quest to get a little vengeance for that crying woman I’d never met, I scared them, but more to the point – I’d embarrassed them, and Jerk Disk Jockey had helped. Once he went live with his bravado against the call from the Feds their listeners knew they’d been called and heard the silence afterward too.
They were embarrassed because I had just done to them what they had done to her, and they didn’t want to have to admit it.
I’ve kept the rather distinctive name of the husband a secret because I have always wished that I could meet that poor woman and that name would be how I would know it was really her.
I doubt she is still married to the guy, but I’d like to let her know that in that place, on that day, someone had her back.”
15. Insult People With Mental Health Issues? Oh, Honey...
“I go to public high school and I generally get along very well with most of my teachers, except for one, let’s call her Mrs. F. At first, Mrs. F was chill, but eventually, she began to chew out our class and our generation, talking about how we were always on our phones and we were all lazy bums who are going to get nowhere in life.
I resented this, but whatever, I put up with it.
One day she escalated her rants when, during class, a guy and I found that a fellow friend’s mother had passed away. I wasn’t too close with either of them, but the news rattled me nonetheless, as I had met and talked with the mother on a number of occasions.
I was quietly crying in class, doing my best to not cause a scene, but the other guy who knew the kid and was really close friends with him had to leave the class because he couldn’t stop crying.
He eventually came back and Mrs. F launched into a tirade, denouncing those that took their own lives as ‘selfish’, ‘unnatural’, and ‘extremely messed up.’ She basically said ‘how dare they’ and chewed out the deceased mother, in front of both me and the guy who were both crying at this loss.
Eventually, the guy left to see the counselor because he couldn’t put up with this, but I stayed since I didn’t know what to do. I made the mistake of expressing my disagreement and highlighted that the mother was a victim in this situation just as much as the people around her.
At this point, I should mention that I myself have gone through dark times and have considered hurting myself before, so this was all affecting me personally as well as emotionally. I asked for her to be sensitive and understand that this was not the conversation we needed to be having at the moment.
She said that it was preventable and that those that did it were cowards and the people around them were also to blame for not noticing or doing enough. I was angry. I tried to defend my point but she lost it, screaming at me about how I ‘had an attitude problem’ and how I was inappropriate and I was just trying to be a rebel and look edgy and cool.
She chewed me out for speaking out and proceeded to insult me in front of the class. It was hurtful and humiliating. She claimed that I always interrupted her (which I never had) and that I should shut my mouth and not speak about things I didn’t know about.
She ranted to other classes about me and called my parents to talk to them about how I was misbehaving in class. Luckily, I had already told them about the incident so they were madder at her than me, but still, why you gotta try to do me like that?
She also talked to the assistant principal and got me detention. Yep, a DETENTION for asking her to be more sensitive. IDK what she told the assistant principal, but I had to serve it out.
I’m a junior and I’m already talking to some colleges. My record has been clean so far and I was afraid this would mess up my chances of getting into my dream college.
So, it’s safe to say I was royally angry at this point.
I stopped participating in her classes (and since the rest of the kids in my class are all seniors who don’t give a darn, this made class extremely frustrating for her).
I’m (surprisingly) popular in my grade – we’re all nerds – so I made sure everyone knew my side of the story, meaning she got ample hostility from most of her junior classes, but that wasn’t enough for me.
This jerk had hurt my feelings and chances of getting into college. I wasn’t going to let her off the hook like that.
In comes my petty revenge:
Like I mentioned before, I’m close with all of my teachers and they all love me, so I played the poor hurt child card and talked to them about how much of a jerk Mrs. F had been to me and how afraid and hurt I was.
Word spread through the teacher grapevine and nearly every teacher in the school hates Mrs. F now.
But that was only the beginning.
I talked to my counselor about how afraid I was the detention would scare off colleges.
I told her the full story and she was livid. She talked to the assistant principal who talked to the principal. I heard this part from one of my closest teachers, but apparently, the principal had a meeting with her about the whole thing.
From what my teacher told me (she’s close with the principal) the principal told Mrs. F that what she did was insensitive and a borderline fireable offense (I and the kid had just been informed of a loss and were dealing with grief, what she said and did clearly affected us and our mental health).
He chewed her out for chewing me out and made it clear she was on thin ice.
But I STILL wasn’t done.
I went to the principal (Mr. M) and very politely told him I was worried about the current tone of the conversation regarding mental health in our school.
I talked about how depression and anxiety were rampant in our school. I help run a club in our school called the Anti-Defamation League and each month we have students present sensitive topics to classes all over the school.
Incidentally, I had chosen to make the next month’s topic mental health and the stigma against it. I told him I was especially cornered regarding Mrs. F’s attitude to this subject and requested he makes this presentation mandatory for her classes (normally we let teachers volunteer their class periods if they want us to present).
Mr. M looked at me for a second and asked me for my name. I gave it to him and I saw a glint in his eye – he obviously recognized it from my counselor’s complaint – but said nothing and told me he would look into it.
This all happened around a month ago, and last week was this month’s presentation. On Monday we got the list of teachers participating in our presentations. Every single one of Mrs. F’s class periods was there.
And guess who gets to chose what presenter presents where? Me. And guess who is also a presenter? Me.
Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed saying the things she made my life miserable for every day to her every class for two days while she just stood there and had to take it.
(I want to make clear that I advocated for sensitivity and mindfulness, in no way did I encourage anyone to harm themselves. I often reiterated how horrible and disruptive the act was, but was careful to not demonize those that did it and made sure to encourage the students to seek help if they were feeling depressed).”
I admit to a semi long story here: to make it as brief as possible: I've made choices (ie: failed myself outta college with little to no chance of getting back in; worked at a cafe for 4.5 years with no promotions nor change in pay grade, etc.) that I am not proud of, and I've though of suicide, BUT I shake myself out of it, talk to someone, and I'm back on track.
This was especially the story when I had issues around 5 years ago now. Long story summarized: nasal cyst long since removed, discovery of my anxiety, and dental issues. It cost me lot, metaphorically and literally. I wanted to die that year, but I realized with the counselor guidance I needed to *man up* and bear it. So I did. I worked through it all, and am doing much better now. Still progressing, but better.
14. Can't Believe I Have To Prove My Schedule
“When I was hired for the job where I currently work, I was hired to work on Tuesday through Saturday from 2 pm to 10 pm.
This had been my schedule for months, never changing. I was verbally told that this was my set schedule, and I even clarified this because I had to arrange for childcare. For example, one week I was accidentally left off the schedule entirely and was told to just work my normal schedule.
Around Thanksgiving time, we closed down for a week. The company policy is that you have to work your last scheduled shift before the break and your first scheduled shift after in order to get your holiday pay.
On the Monday following Thanksgiving (remember I’m normally off on Mondays), I got a call saying I was scheduled to work and that because I didn’t come in, I wouldn’t get my holiday pay.
This kind of ticked me off because I had been told I would work Tuesday-Saturday and thus had only arranged childcare those days, so I couldn’t even come in that day if I wanted to.
The exact phrase I was told over the phone was, ‘It is your responsibility to check the schedule every week because we don’t have set schedules.’
Fast forward to this week.
While checking the schedule, I noticed that my schedule is the same as normal with the exception that I am off the schedule on Saturday. So, I decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth and just take the three-day weekend and don’t mention to my boss that she left me off.
So Saturday (which I normally would work), I don’t go in since I’m not scheduled.
I got a call from work and didn’t answer, and they didn’t leave a voicemail.
Then I receive a text from my boss saying that my schedule ‘never changes’ and it will be a no call/no show on my attendance record for not coming in to work.
I reply that I am not on the schedule and so I’m not required to come in, as it is my responsibility to check the schedule every week because we don’t have set schedules.
I received no further reply and am looking forward to seeing how work goes on Tuesday. I also took a picture of the schedule to make sure that I can prove I was off on the schedule in case my boss tries to write me up.
By the way, I do have a new job lined up and am just waiting for my start date before I quit this one.”
13. I Finally Got My Roommate To Pay Rent
“This story takes place a couple of years back.
During college, I lived with several roommates, all of them were nice and we got along well, except for this one idiot, let’s call her Karen. She is a loud-mouthed stupid, egocentric jerk who has the face that scares a toilet.
She would never clean up after herself, she would always leave her plates and things at the spot where she last used them. I have lost count of how many times I caught her stealing my clothes without asking and if you so much as touch her clothes she loses her mind on you, or her drinking our lactose-intolerant roommate’s almond milk and any time we confronted her for drinking it, she would shrug and say ‘I only had a sip, stop being so stingy.’ She plays her music loud at night, invites strangers without giving any heads up, a time or two she didn’t pay rent even though her parents are FILTHY RICH and she is wearing Gucci and Prada stuff, Karen also lies about everything, even things that are not worth lying about.
Like if she woke up at 7, and you ask her, she’ll lie through her teeth and say she rose with the sunrise because she is a natural. (ps, this is something I actually heard her say to her parents while she was skyping them… so cringy, who says that?
but I digress.)
Months we have put up with her, of course, we tried to get other roommates but unfortunately when we all moved in everything, all documents and contracts were done in her name so kicking her out would require a lot of effort and most of us were busy with school and work and life happens.
So we ignore it as much as we can and try to move on.
We are now all seniors and in our final semesters, meaning graduation was coming, AND Karen is planning a backpacking trip across Europe with her friends as a graduation gift to herself, this is important so remember this.
One of our roommates and my closest friend, Sasha, has had a crush on a guy that lives down the hall. Any time the two of them are together, Sasha and the Guy keep giving each other googly eyes and blushing faces; it was sooo cute.
Sasha is a verbal autistic person and has never gone out with anyone because she has a hard time socializing and understanding social cues and subtlety, which let’s face it, is the core of meeting people, especially flirting.
But with a lot of encouragement from me and the final roommate, Lola, we got her to ask him out. He said yes. She was so happy, you guys, she flew back into the apartment and did an hour of happy dance with her arms flailing about and a soul-eating grin on her face; needless to say, we were all so happy.
Karen caught wind of this and it just so happens at that time she was having relationship problems, I guess her man finally realized he was with human garbage. Not one to be outshined, Karen behind all of our backs went to the guy’s place and spun lies about Sasha, saying she is a serial liar and even made a fake account for Sasha’s so-called significant other.
The guy never called Sasha, and eventually, weeks passed by and he told us why but by then Sasha felt like the damage was done and lost interest in him.
I. WAS. FURIOUS.
This, this level of jerkery and bloody pettiness is the straw that finally broke the camel’s back and I vowed I wouldn’t leave until I served my slice of justice. Here’s another character that you must know about, Prof C.
His wife two years ago was in a horrible car accident and as a result, is in a wheelchair, this is especially problematic because she was a stay home mom that took care of their two disabled kids and they have a toddler at home.
Homelife is a mess for him, he is running ragged between working and single-handedly taking care of his family. The uni took pity and also feared the workload would see one of their best and most beloved teachers leave the school so they struck a deal with him to help him out.
In all of his classes, there will be quizzes and midterms, this doesn’t change, but assignments you submit, he corrects at the end of the year. This is important cause our uni has zero-tolerance on profs that don’t constantly update the student’s course works so that students have the chance to improve their grades.
Karen, the lazy and stupid jerk she is, is somehow skating through his assignments, even though they require a ton of research and writing. I accidentally learned that one of her older friends told her that she only needs to submit the paper on its due date and to only write the first 3 pages and use a paraphrasing tool for the rest of the paper so the plagiarism software won’t detect it and would think it’s original material and when the end of the year comes, submit a hard copy but with the first pages being her actual work and the rest being completely plagiarized, professional work.
Prof C won’t know cause the likelihood of a man as busy as him thoroughly checking the work of 120+ students is pretty low. I grinned. A plan was beginning to formulate in my head.
Oh, sweet mother of Jesus, she is going down! All semester long I let her do this for all of the 7 papers, one of them which is a term paper that has 20% on it alone, all the while I spied and gathered all of her passcodes, social media, her student ID, everything.
The end of the year came and I compiled all of her assignments, both the original one with the paraphrasing tools she used to circumvent plagiarism and the one she finally handed in and I even made photos where there is a side-to-side comparison of the assignments.
This is a good start but not enough. So, one day while chilling in the living room I open a conversation about relationships, Karen is two-timing her new partner and is sleeping with some other person.
So, I ask her questions like ‘don’t you feel guilty for lying?’ and ‘You do realize this is wrong?’ and I even paraphrase my words in a way that is vague but also clear, for example, I would say ‘It’s not fair, so many people work so hard every day to be successful and you are here lying your way to success.’ Karen, a narcissist, would respond with snippets of I don’t care and how she isn’t lying, she is only having fun, and that everyone does it so why not her too.
This is too good to be true, even her answers are vague, it is like god put his hand on my shoulder, looked me right in the eyes, and said, ‘burry this jerk’ and I’d be darned if I didn’t.
As you probably have guessed by now, I was recording EVERYTHING. The recording plus the photos, and her assignments were more than enough evidence, I sent an anonymous email to the Professor, and I tell the girls so that they can prepare for the chaos that’s coming.
Three weeks later, the results are out. She failed and LOST HER MIND. She was screaming, crying, wailing, what a sight to see! You best believe, the girls and I were laughing. She tried to talk to the prof, but he was not having it.
She cried and begged for a second chance but he said a hard no. So now she has two options: she goes ahead and doesn’t graduate with us, and takes on a whole ‘nother semester for one measly course or take a summer course and cancel her trip to Europe, which mind you, she spent a lot on, something like 13, 000$ and I know it could have been much cheaper but Princess Karen only wanted the best.
The next couple of weeks she spent sleepless nights because she was calling and canceling all the reservations she made, trying to get her funds back BUT (again, GOD really was out for blood that day) because the cancellation was so close to some of her trip most places refused to refund, or some charged her cancellation fees.
She only managed to scrap 5.5 K back together, losing 7.5 K. OUCH!
It was not over, having darning evidence I, with earned gusto, told her she was going to pay all of the bills till we move out, which was in two months, payback for all the times she was late on a payment or defaulted and she would from now do her part of the house chores or else I’m gonna send it all to the admin and faculty dean and she will fo sho be kicked out and all those uni years will have been for nothing.
She hated it, she threw tantrums and cussed me out but my god if she didn’t do what’s told. She cleaned her stuff, apologized to Sasha for what she did, I forced her to come clean to her man (don’t know the guy but the few times I met him he was super sweet to us and I felt bad for the guy), I watched her actually do the dishes for the first time in like years.
It was amazing and I don’t regret it one bit. In fact, anytime I feel sad now as an adult, I kick back my feet and reminisce and a slow soul-eating grin draws itself upon my face.
Edit: Answering some questions:
1- Why didn’t I report her to the admin in the first place? Well, I was kinda hoping Prof C would do that on my behalf but for reasons I’ve no idea, he only failed her (I’m guessing to save his own butt) and didn’t say stuff and while I hate Karen, I don’t actually have the heart to actually expel someone from school (I know, I know I’m weak for it and she did lie but I really don’t think I can go through with it).
2- What happened to Sasha? She and the guy never got together, she took a bit of a break but over the summer she briefly met someone for like 2 months before they decided it isn’t going to work out.
Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to her since then, sure, we tried to keep in contact but we both were job hunting, trying to adult and along the way lost all contact, HOWEVER, this post made me nostalgic for my old friend, I reached out and she is doing well.
We didn’t talk much since it’s been a little over 4 yrs but she is doing fine, works, and is still single.
3- Why did I spy? Because I need her passcodes for the assignment reports, I don’t know where she stored them and I figured better be thorough, and if you don’t think you can actually get someone’s passcodes in four months, someone that lives with you 24/7 and that you see all the time then buddy… you need to pay attention, half the time I saw her passcodes accidentally.
Also, I recorded her because like I mentioned earlier Karen is a serial liar, it wouldn’t surprise me if she makes up some sob story to get out of punishment, I took the recording as like an extra security blanket.
4- Prof C was a pretty chill dude and lots of older and current students have him on social media when his wife got into a car accident, there were like families and friends posting things like ‘pray for XXX’ or ‘thoughts and prayers with you guys’ and his kids having disabilities have never been a secret, he brings them up in his story quite often and shares lots of articles and posts on social media about disabled kids and he posts pictures of his family, etc, you have no idea how much info people put on the internet bruh.
5- Lastly, I’m not and will probably not for the foreseeable future be ever sorry for the blackmail. This is someone that lied to us about our rent, stole our clothes and food, didn’t do house chores and broke my friend’s heart, and was a lying partner and an overall trashy person, she got everything she deserved, if anything she should have been kicked out of uni but I didn’t go there.
If y’all wanted some fairy tale story where I sat down with Karen and we had a long talk and at the end, we both came to the realization we judged each other too harshly then yeah… no, that’s not happening.”
12. Make Fun Of My Friend? Yeah, He Speaks Spanish
“This happened to a family friend, let’s name him Sean. His parents are American but lived in South America when he was born, he was also raised there so naturally, he grew up speaking perfect Spanish, though he obviously didn’t look Hispanic.
He was blond with green eyes and fair skin. Fast forward a couple of decades, he’s now in his late 20s and has moved back to the US, where he’s lived since his teens.
Both his Spanish and English are perfect at this point. He goes to a certain ‘Mexican’ fast food place where employees add your ingredients down the line and you pay at the end.
As soon as he starts ordering his food, two of the workers, both Hispanic, start to make fun of his hair, his skinny jeans, and essentially his entire appearance.
Sean was able to stay composed and quiet and acted completely oblivious to everything they were saying and just carried on down the line order.
By the time he gets to the cash register, the cashier, who was not one of the two employees, rings him out. That’s when he calmly asks the cashier to call over the two employees, which they did since there was no line at the time.
When the employees come, wondering what was up, Sean says, in English: ‘I really appreciate the service both of you provided. Your commentary was also top-notch. Now if you could be so kind…’
And then without missing a beat he says, in perfect, zero accent Spanish: ‘Me pueden llamar a su jefe?’ Which translates to: ‘Could you call over your boss?’ He says their reactions were something he will never forget.
The manager comped his meal and gave him 10 gift cards to the restaurant. He lived close to that specific location, he never saw those two employees again.”
11. Rude Neighbor Gets Denied A Few Times
“We live in an apartment block, and occasionally have new people move in and out, yesterday we encountered a new resident, a short red-haired lady. My significant other greeted her with a simple ‘Hello.’ He also tried to say ‘welcome,’ but she cut him off with, ‘Shut up, I don’t know you.’ Okay, not the sociable type, neither are we, let’s not get friendly then!
Today when returning from grocery shopping, we found her trying to pick the lock with what looks like a piece of a paperclip because you know, that’s going to work. She’s apparently been at it a while because before we could open the door with our key, a patrol car stopped and an officer called out to her.
We stopped to watch because, well, it was happening.
The officer asked her why she was breaking in. She responded that she lived here. She then turned to us and said that ‘They know me.’ My significant other smiled and said, ‘I don’t know you.’ We entered the building after the officer asked us to confirm, and my man repeated, ‘We don’t know her.’ Can’t wait to have more contact with her…”
10. I'm Not Replaceable, Your Company Is
“I worked for a company for just under 5 years. The company I worked for existed for an additional 10 years prior to me.
While I worked at this company, it ballooned to be the number one provider in the region for its unique service with about 75% of the market. It was a small business with about 15 employees.
I loved my job and the skills I learned while working there were quite valuable. I loved my team, and the clients we provided services for. My twice-yearly reviews with the owner were always 10/10 with no recommendations for improvement.
I was exceptional at my job in every way. I handled company operations, HR/payroll, customer service, marketing, employee management, schedules, employee and client training, and many other things at this company. I was also able to step in and do any of my teammates’ jobs if they were out sick or on vacation.
The owner of the company was giving out a bonus late summer last year and mine, while being more than previous years, was notably less than my teammates. I asked the owner, ‘Are the bonuses related to performance, and if so, what could I have done to earn more?’
The owner replied, ‘The bonuses are not performance-related, you are just more replaceable than the others.’
‘Oh, okay,’ I replied and I proceeded to process each of the bonuses then went to lunch.
I called my spouse to gain wisdom and advice. I was pretty annoyed but didn’t want to make a rash decision.
My spouse is very intelligent and, while they are not a fortuneteller, they have an ability to foresee various responses and all the potential outcomes.
They are business-wise and have been on the executive team of a large company for the past 21 years while also serving on several community boards and business advisory boards.
We decided together to continue forward with our scheduled vacation and use the time away to calm our minds, relax, have fun, and also determine the best course of action for me.
We were leaving after working one more day, so I worked like all was normal the rest of the day and the following day, then left on vacation.
While away we discussed several scenarios, the potential outcomes, consulted with a business advisor and a business attorney.
With all the advice I received I determined that upon my return from vacation, I would resign from my role with a two-week notice. However, in a fit of rage, I was immediately terminated by the owner.
This was one of the scenarios we thought would happen, so I was prepared for the owner’s poor reaction.
During the next couple of weeks, I created and opened a competing business offering similar services.
However; I offered more customizable options with higher quality service and results. I knew our clients wanted these options and had proposed said options several times at my old workplace but was never green-lighted to implement the changes for no reason other than the owner didn’t come up with the idea so it was a stupid idea.
I also maintained communications with a few people from my old team. My old team did not relay the day-to-day happenings at my previous workplace and I never asked about the company; however, they would vent to me on occasion.
I would listen without comment. I knew service, quality, and the work environment, in general, suffered since my departure. Morale went down and clients were less satisfied. I also read the Google and social media reviews for the old company.
Yikes!
Additionally, two full-time and one part-time people were hired to fill my role and a portion of my responsibilities, like HR and payroll, were filled by outside companies.
I quickly built up my business and within 3 months was able to hire several of my old teammates.
They were able to jump in on day one with minimal training as they were the best employees at my old workplace. The quality of the previous workplace’s offerings continued to fall which sent additional business my way and quickly caused incoming work to be nonexistent at the old workplace.
My old workplace went from being the number one provider of unique service in the region to nothing in a matter of months.
My previous employer is now searching for gainful employment. I know this because over the weekend the owner applied for a position at my spouse’s company.
Side note: I think my spouse’s company should bring my previous employer in for an interview but when they arrive, surprise! I’m the interviewer and all I say is, ‘How replaceable am I now?’ My spouse, rightfully so, has said, ‘No.’
The moral of the story is don’t tell your employees they are replaceable because they might create a competing business that is better than yours while taking your best employees and your clients which will leave you with no business to sell (owner’s whole retirement plan was to sell the business) and starting all over by searching for employment under someone else.
Looks like your company was replaceable, not me.”
9. Criticize My Cooking? I'll Buy You Meals From A "Restaurant" Then
“I’ve been enrolled in a cooking school for over a year and my mom has never been supportive, mostly because I dropped out of a nursing program to get into this cooking school.
She’s always making snide comments about how I should’ve been a nurse or a lawyer, or how I’ll only ever be a subservient housewife with this profession.
When I do make something, she always criticizes it.
Like she’s Gordon Ramsay or something: ‘Oh, too much salt.’ ‘It’s undercooked.’ ‘It looks disgusting.’ Even though pretty much everyone else says the opposite. She’s looking for any little thing she can critique about my cooking.
She keeps telling me I can’t cook and need to get into a real career.
I’ve cooked three-course dinners for the family and they always get positive reviews, except for her.
She had a party for her work friends, I made a whole tray of my specialty take on homemade meatballs. It’s a recipe I conceptualized myself and my signature dish. Everyone kept going back and getting more, so many that they ran out.
I asked mom what she thought, and she said, ‘They were drinking, they couldn’t taste anything.’ So I figured if I wanted to get her to compliment my cooking, I’d have to trick her.
I cooked her a meal, one of her favorites from scratch, which was her biggest weakness that she can never resist. I dressed it up to look professional and put it in a generic To-Go Box and had my partner take a video of me preparing it, start to finish.
I called her and told her that my partner and I were eating at this diner (that doesn’t exist), and made up a fake name for it and everything. I told her they had her favorite meal and asked if she wanted us to bring her one.
Of course, she said yes. I brought the dish and told her more about the fake diner. She started eating it and complimented how good it was.
She even said how she wanted to go to the diner and get another one.
After she was almost through with the meal, I asked her for her honest opinions, so we could write a review on Yelp. She went on for 10 minutes about how great it was, and then I sprung it on her.
I had cooked it. Her tone changed. She put the fork down and said she was lying, that it tasted like garbage.
My partner showed her the video, and she googled the restaurant and it didn’t show up.
She then started pointing out flaws with the meal, like how there was too much sauce and it was really spicy and burned her mouth. I asked her why she almost finished the whole thing if it was so spicy.
She didn’t say anything, so I just asked her if she was ready to admit it.
She said no, so we left, but I spotted her eating it from the other room.
I asked her again and she laughed and finally told me yes, that I’m a good chef. So, after a year of doubting I was a good chef and holding my dreams back, she finally admitted it.”
8. Steal The Candies? Boss Will Know About It
“A couple of things about me that made it really suck to have a food thief: I have a lot of food allergies, so I can’t just get lunch at the cafeteria or at a nearby restaurant.
I have a new baby, who I’m breastfeeding, and who I pump for when I’m at work. Do you know how hungry pregnant people are? Yeah, the caloric requirement for breastfeeding is 100-200 calories higher.
I am always hungry.
Because I have a new baby, half the time I don’t manage to show up at work with lunch. I either run out of time to pack one or if I did remember, I leave it on the counter.
My solution to all of this was to leave lots of non-perishable snacks in my office. And also a lot of candy, because I also have a three-year-old and therefore work is the only place I can shovel Skittles into my mouth without a little hand extending into my field of vision and a little voice saying ‘pwease?’
These were snacks that were specifically free of my allergens. Some were also specialty foods because of this. The type of specialty food that just doesn’t taste as good as food that contains the allergen, and also costs twice as much.
Because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, I deserve nice things. So, also because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, when I first came back from maternity leave, assembled my snack hoard, and started having things go missing, I genuinely thought I was just losing my mind.
Boxes of candy were running out faster than I thought I was eating them. I’d come in in the morning and things wouldn’t be where I’d left them. At one point, I brought a bag of chips to work, folded the rim of the bag down so I wasn’t plunging my arm elbow-deep into a grease pit, and then put a bag clip on it when I went home.
When I came in the next morning the bag was unrolled and re-clipped.
I went ‘Wow, I must be more tired than I thought,’ rolled the bag back down, and the next morning it was unrolled again.
Just little things like that, almost every day, that made me go ‘Wow, the post-baby brain is worse than I thought!’ And then. And then! Then I got the flu. I got sick, and I was out for a whole week.
Left behind at the office was an almost-full box of Enjoy Life cookies, which are not enjoyable but are free of all major allergens, and are also $5 a box for, like, 12 sad little sand pies with some cinnamon on top.
I ate one row of these cookies, and then I was out of the office for a week. For one week, I was not eating any of my snack hoards. But someone else was.
Because I came back to work, opened my box of cookies, and found one. There was one single, solitary cookie left. And, on further examination, the one box of candy that had been opened was nowhere to be found, and on top of that, the thief had done me the courtesy of opening a new box for me, except that they actually followed the ‘push here to open’ instructions instead of just ripping one end of the box open as I do.
The combination of these two things—the sheer freaking audacity it takes to open a new box so you can continue taking from someone, on top of the consumption of almost a whole box specialty cookies that aren’t even GOOD—enraged me enough that, after going to my boss and getting some vague promises about checking if the security cameras in my wing of the building are functional or not (what??) I went straight to Amazon and ordered myself a nanny cam.
Not for my baby. For my snack hoard. Conveniently, it arrived the day before Valentine’s day. I set it up on top of a file cabinet looking down at my desk. On the desk, I laid out a fantastic spread of snacks.
I got all my thief’s favorites, and then I took it one step further. I bought myself Valentine’s heart, broke the seal to make it more inviting, and left it out on my desk.
The next morning, I came into some very obvious snack carnage. My thief had slowly been getting more brazen (again, who OPENS a new box of something?? And opens it DIFFERENTLY than the person they are taking from??) but this was just on another level.
Individually wrapped things had been dumped out of their boxes. Bits of the packaging had been thrown away. And, yup; they’d eaten some of the Valentine candy.
For shame, office thief! Don’t you know that’s from someone who loves me??
I played back the video. All was quiet throughout most of the evening, and I was just watching the shadows lengthen as the sun slowly set through the hallway window. And then! Shortly before midnight!
The night janitor arrived! And went right ahead and took a 12-minute break in my office, sitting in my chair, eating my food.
I started taking screenshots. I got him shoveling candy into his mouth with full palm-to-lips intensity.
Pouring things out onto the desk to pick his favorite flavors. Not even bothering to put them back where he found them. And yes. Eating my Valentine’s candy. Screenshots went directly to my boss in an email.
I went directly to my boss’s door to hover and grin and ask if he’d read my email.
And I got assurances of a strongly worded email to the cleaning company and the barring of this particular employee from our place of business.
I was also, tactfully, asked to please take my unauthorized spy camera home, which I did. I thought this was over, but it wasn’t. One day, the girl who works the concession stand dropped by to thank me.
Apparently, the food thief would start his shift just as she was closing down for the night, and would try to get free coffee in that ‘creepy guy’ way.
And then one of the reception staff came by with the same sentiments.
I’d never met the guy face-to-face, but apparently, as a woman, it was not a fun experience to have. I’d shown my screenshots to a few co-workers and word had spread fast. I worked an earlier shift, so I didn’t recognize him, but people whose shifts overlapped with his did.
I hadn’t told my husband about what I’d done because when I came home raging about the blatant theft that had gone on while I’d been sick, his only response had been ‘You really shouldn’t be leaving food at work, then.’ But, when I came home with the nanny cam and explained where and why I’d gotten it, his reaction surprised me.
‘You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you stand up for yourself. I’m proud of you.’ Y’know what? I’m proud of myself too!”
7. Insult Me Over My Late Uncle? Get Exposed
“So, as a backstory, this happened when I was in the equivalent of Junior year of high school.
I became friends with a girl (D) one year older than me and soon we grew to be like sisters, doing things together all the time. Might I also mention that at that time both of us were into stuff like Reiki and weird sorts of spirituality and the occult and stuff like that, and me being the edgy teen I was at that point was incredibly happy to have someone share my interests.
When my junior year started she was a senior and met a guy (G) at college admissions prep who she apparently immediately fell for. Of course, she introduced him to me and he and I took to each other almost too well.
G and I started to get along marvelously and being the stupid kid I was of course I fell for him hard, but I hid it and decided that I would be the better person and eat my feelings since he was her significant other.
So I kept it friendly and basically developed an iron control on my emotions (which to this day is both a good and a bad thing for my mental health).
Over the next 6 months, D had become obsessed with him, increasingly jealous and manipulative with both of us, and was basically making both our lives miserable.
She was calling me for hours sometimes just complaining about how G has the emotional range of a teaspoon, other times raging and crying, and at that point, I was stuck mediating between D and G on a daily basis, almost to the exclusion of everything else.
I recognize now, years later, that she was incredibly emotionally abusive to both of us. While being a generally abusive jerk and psycho jerk she was also very very flirty and about a couple of days before things went down she made out with a classmate of mine in front of me while asking me not to tell her partner.
One day soon after G calls me annoyed beyond belief because he and D got into one of their arguments which after half a year of the relationship became explosive in nature. He wanted to leave her since he was tired of her nonsense and she threatened to harm herself.
I don’t remember exactly what had triggered the argument but what I do remember was that I was feeling so darn guilty about not telling G what I had seen. He was one of my best friends after all, and I was put in the situation of either covering up her lying or risking a big meltdown.
I chose to tell G that I think she’s just crying for attention since she made out with So-and-So the other week and he went mad. Like seeing red kind of mad.
He thanked me for telling him what happened and said he’d go to her house and break up with her and that he’ll keep me posted.
An hour later I get a string of angry texts from her that I betrayed her and that I should stay away from them and all sorts of belittling things.
G also blocked me at her request and told me to stay away and so I ended up the ‘villain’ and feeling like I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.
After a few days of being miserably depressed, a few girls from my class approached me at a party I couldn’t dodge out of and asked me what was wrong.
After telling them what D had done they were the ones who convinced me I did the right thing and that I wasn’t the villainous jerk she made me look like. You can imagine how angry I was after giving my all to her and getting trash in return so I started plotting revenge.
The first step was contacting her ex who I knew she hated, going out with him but bailing like a chicken because I was still feeling guilty. That didn’t work, I was a weakling and made up with her and suffered a few more months until summer came and the three of us went on a seaside vacation where things REALLY went down.
I booked a couple of days extra after they were supposed to leave and on their last evening, while at a restaurant, I got a call from my parents telling me to not come home early because my favorite uncle had died and they were going to his funeral. I was distraught and went to my hotel room while D said they’ll just drop by their room and come stay with me since I wasn’t feeling like being alone.
Guess what: she got naughty and hooked up for 2 hours while I sat alone crying my eyes out. When they came D wanted to do some illegal stuff and started arguing with me and G about some stupid spiritual stuff she saw while on her trip.
G was already annoyed at her since on our second night she got blackout wasted and flirted with everyone in the club, so he and I decided we wanted to go to the beach and see the sunrise.
She came too, arguing with G and me the whole time until these stupid words left her mouth:
D: ‘G, I cannot believe you are arguing with me. And you (gesturing at me) – stop whining, it’s just some dead guy, get over it already!’
What. Did. You. SAY?!
I stormed off in a rage, with G running after me afraid I’d do something stupid in my altered mental state and she kept sneering and complaining. I can honestly say I blacked out of rage at some point because I can’t remember what she said that made me punch her square in the darn face.
I got home the next week and started looking for a way out of this sham of a friendship. D didn’t even apologize for the things she said and I had had enough, so when a mutual friend reported that she was making out with some guy at a party I immediately reported it to G and the same thing as before happened with both of them blocking me.
Screw you and good riddance, I thought, but boy oh boy karma served me a true opportunity to wreak havoc not long after.
Fast forward 6 months I was in my senior year, kept my side of mine and D’s mutual friends, and was dealing with what I know now is my still severe depression when guess who calls?
You guessed it, Miss D sobbing on the phone because G ‘wrongly’ accused her of sneaking around with a friend of his. Oh but of course, I’ll help, I say, not mentioning that I’ll help get her exposed if anything.
I wheeled and dealt, called favors, pretended to be friends to people, and generally was a manipulative jerk until I got the information of what exactly she did and wasn’t telling me: that she actually sneaked around with SEVEN blokes.
Seven. Not one, not two, seven. I was flabbergasted, to say the least.
Through a bit of clever usage of computers, I even got convo transcripts and made sure G found out everything – ie I told him every single dirty thing she did with a grin of satisfaction on my face, and then as the ‘nice’ girl I was holding him back so he wouldn’t hurt her.
I do believe my thoughts were on the line of ‘nobody lays a finger on her before I can make her suffer.’ Just peachy, I know. I somehow convinced him not to kick her butt into kingdom come and instead arranged a meeting in the KFC next to our school where G wanted to ‘make up with her’.
I told D that I had convinced him of her innocence and he agreed to get back together and she was ‘soo relieved I worked my magic again’. Little did she know I didn’t have to drop by the post office when I told her I’ll go ahead, run an errand, and meet her there, but that I went ahead, got all of our friends there to witness and plastered a whole section of KFC with screenshots of her lewd conversations with various blokes.
G was also there, almost murderous, waiting for her to arrive.
After a bit of a wait, I had the honor of witnessing the most glorious sight ever: D walked in, all happy and hopeful in her tiny lying soul, and her face instantly dropped when she saw me, her now ex, and everyone in her group of friends from high school waiting for her surrounded by proof of her shenanigans.
That was not the only thing that dropped though, since as I was reveling in the look of utter betrayal on her face she proceeded to pass out.
I didn’t even care what happened after; it was enough that she saw me there, looked at the grin on my face and knew I was behind it all, and had robbed her of the one thing she cherished most: her man.
It was worth the almost full year of abuse and a couple of months of manipulation and lies to see her fall.
Years after she even apologized sincerely when she realized what drove me to this revenge plot and now we’re civil, but now she knows she should NEVER.
Ever. Cross me.”
6. Try To Throw Me Under The Bus? Run Yourself Over
“I was building an online training module at work that is intended to teach existing users how to work a new process. It has interactive elements, quizzes, segments to work through a few sample scenarios, etc. Now we’d recently got a new Associate Director who from what I can tell advanced through the company by throwing other people under the bus.
She gets promoted not for her own merits, but because at the end of the day she has less mud sticking to her than other applicants. It’s uncanny to the point that there simply had to be more to it than stupid office politics.
I’ll get to that in a bit.
So after I have the first draft of the module done, it gets sent out for the usual round of testing, and there are of course a couple of things that need to be corrected. (I build the module of the notes the subject matter experts leave me, and a few things inevitably get lost in translation).
But this new Associate Director just rips it to shreds, complaining that it’s completely incomprehensible, needs to go into much greater detail, asking questions about nearly every individual mouse click in the sample scenarios, and overall stating that it’s impossible to follow.
The thing is, this module is intended for our finance department, for people who have a background in finance, and have already been trained on how to use our internal software. She is a training service Associate Director, with a teaching background.
The module isn’t supposed to make sense to a former middle school social studies teacher, it’s supposed to make sense to people with finance degrees.
I push back and try explaining this to her in a million different ways, but she’s having none of it.
So I have to go back to the Subject Matter Experts with her ~20 pages worth of criticism. And at first, they think I’m joking. I had to forward her email before they finally believed me.
So for the next two weeks, we’re going over every nuance, including re-addressing everything that was covered during their three-week classroom training. How to set up their network drives, how to set up Outlook, including things as nuanced as ‘If you don’t know how to set up your email signature, click here…’ I mean really basic, BASIC stuff that has nothing to do with what the module was originally supposed to teach.
But I now had to include it all because our new Associate Director couldn’t find the on-switch if you stapled her finger to it. This wastes my time, the Subject Matter Expert’s time, and time spent re-recording all the voice work.
(If you’ve done voice work in the past, you know you NEVER get it in one take.) After it’s all done, I send it back out for review and approval, and the Associate Director simply doesn’t respond.
A week passes.
The finance director takes an interest in why this module is almost a month overdue. I go to forward the Associate Director’s email again… except now I can’t find it.
Odd, seeing as how I have a hoarding problem when it comes to email. I check with one of the Subject Matter Experts I was working with, he can’t find it either. Turns out, none of us can find it.
It’s gone… So I check with a friend of mine in IT who – after a little detective work – discovers that a week ago someone did a compliance delete on the exchange server. This basically is a seek and destroy for messages meeting certain criteria.
In this case, a specific phrase she used in her email. I start digging through Outlook trying to find particular emails related to this that might be used to defend my actions…and they’re all gone.
Inbox, Sent Items, Deleted Items. Every last one of them. Any email containing that particular phrase anywhere in it. This kind of thing is normally used by admins to mass-delete spam or phishing emails from all users at once.
Except, in this case, someone apparently deleted emails that showed evidence of her awful decisions.
My friend in IT can smell a juicy story a mile away and was VERY interested in seeing where this went.
She recovered the deleted emails and I promptly saved them to a flash drive. For the next few days, every time I had any email with this Associate Director’s name on it (even unrelated stuff, you never know how something might fit together), I saved a copy to the flash drive.
I informed the Subject Matter Experts to do the same, and we started building our offline evidence locker. I didn’t want to blow the lid on it just yet, I wanted to see if my suspicions were correct.
Maybe a lifetime of watching spy movies and cop dramas had corrupted my thinking. Maybe there was another explanation. Who knows, it could happen, I’m not God, I don’t know everything. I’ll play defense.
So after several weeks in total trying to appease this Associate Director’s unquenchable thirst for irrelevant details, and then getting ignored for a week she finally publishes it and sends it to the finance director to approve so it can go live.
Woo! Except for the module, which was supposed to be a 30-minute online course, now contained THREE HOURS of content, and went down several irrelevant rabbit holes that had been deemed ‘critical supporting information’.
As an analogy, imagine designing a training module to teach a nurse how to enter some new CPT codes and being told you have to teach him how to read too because he might not know what words are.
That’s how much nonsense was rammed into this thing.
And the finance director of course hated it and was surprised that such a rambling mess of a module would come from me of all people.
So he calls a meeting with me and the Associate Director on Tuesday to get some answers, and sure enough, she immediately tried to distance herself from it. Tried to paint it as she made a couple of suggestions and I clearly went way overboard.
How I must have sent her a different version that she approved and switched them afterward (that’s not even possible, it would get thrown back into a draft status). She kept trying to talk over me as I voiced my defense, and to his credit, the finance director finally just muted her so I could speak.
And boy did I. I explained EVERYTHING. I shared my screen, popped in my flash drive, and opened my copies of the emails that had supposedly been deleted. Every email exchange where she complained about the material, I pushed back, and she flat-out ordered me to build the module in the way I did.
She abruptly left the meeting and went offline. The finance director asked if I could send him a copy of all relevant files, and as I did so I told him they might not be there later.
And then explained what I had learned about someone in IT using the compliance delete. He assures me he’ll look into it, and things immediately went down. The Associate Director never logged back on.
There was a massive internal audit where people from her previous departments were asked to provide statements. The leadership tried to keep it hush but you just can’t keep something that big under wraps.
I don’t know the specific whats and hows, but the Associate Director and one of the IT managers had both ‘left the company to pursue the next stage of their careers, and we sincerely wish them the best.’ I don’t really do the social media thing, but over the next few days as the rumor mill did what rumor mills do I heard their stuff absolutely blew up, and it came out that the Associate Director and that IT manager were having an affair.
Now, this all went down about a month ago but as I wrote this post I thought to check online court records. Both are now facing divorces, filed by their respective spouses.
So yeah, there’s a void in my direct leadership, in IT’s leadership, and the entire IT department is getting a shakedown by information security to determine if there were any other leaks.
I spent some time reflecting on why this whole series of events happened, and my best guess is she wanted to make a grand entrance by spearheading this masterwork training module that covered every possible scenario and contained any and all information anyone could possibly want.
Then as she started to realize how wasteful, rambling, and unnecessary it was, she realized that her grand entrance would be a grand faceplant. So she tried to erase the evidence and pin all the nonsense on me to save face, but inadvertently set in motion the events that would expose her little ‘arrangement’ with the IT manager.
Taking it up the butt in order to cover her butt I guess.”
5. I Think I'm In The Right Line
“I am a 5’4″ male who looks less muscular than I am. I was in line for priority boarding and it had just started when the woman behind me said ‘Excuse me, this is for priority boarding.
You need to wait with everyone else.’ I ignored her and presented my boarding pass with my active duty ID. My only revenge was when the attendant said, ‘thank you for your service.’
I turned to the woman behind me, grinned, and said ‘thanks!’ before boarding.”
4. Be A Jerk To Me? Get Your Username Changed
“My partner and I had met online well over 6 years ago through an online game by the name of RuneScape.
It had felt like we had been friends forever. We both played the game very often and connected through it, eventually leading us to start a long-distance relationship. Things began to escalate as the years went on and we began seeing each other in person every few months or so.
We were about 1,500 miles apart, so one of our main priorities for the future was moving in together and closing the distance. My job had prevented us from doing that, but we had finally set a date for me to move in with him in December of this year.
Our relationship never had any serious issues and I was more than happy to have him in my life as he was happy to have me. As I got older, I began to play RuneScape less and less, as work took up most of my time.
He continued to play regularly, if not more than he had when I first met him. He could never really hold down a job and barely had an income, but I supported him throughout the years and even paid his rent from across the country after he moved out of his parents’ house a few years ago.
I never really minded it because he was a sweetheart, but we began to have problems.
In November of last year, I couldn’t help pay his monthly rent. I was struggling financially after having to pay my own living expenses alongside car repairs and bills I owed to the state, and I just couldn’t afford to support him at the time.
When I called him one night to discuss it, he freaked out and started crying that he didn’t want to live with his parents again. I tried calming him down and even suggested that I could help him find a temporary job until I could start providing for him again, but he wasn’t having it.
He claimed his parents would abuse him if he returned home, which I know for a fact isn’t true because he and his parents have stayed with me several times. They’ve given him the world.
I eventually did calm him down but he remained passive-aggressive the entire night and we eventually hung up.
Because I cared about him, I reached out to his father the next day and informed him that he would probably be moving back home after his lease expired that month.
I explained how I wouldn’t be able to afford to pay for his living for a month or two.
I asked if there were any local jobs he could work in order to… y’ know, MAKE AN INCOME.
Apparently, a friend of his father’s needed help managing a small warehouse for his business and was looking to potentially hire my partner for the season. It paid $15/hr and was super easy (lifting boxes, sweeping the floors, and taking inventory).
I brought it up to my partner that same night and he was not having it. Not only did he not want to work in a ‘trashy warehouse,’ but he didn’t want to work at all.
All he planned to do day in, day out was play RuneScape.
I brought up a few other job listings I had found in his area and he immediately shot all of them down as well.
He then had the audacity to comment about how he thinks I should work harder and possibly work a second job. I kept my composure and simply argued against it until we eventually hung up.
I collapsed on my bed and cried for a good hour or two afterward because of the intense emotional stress I was under. Not only do I work 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, I’m also an industrial meteorologist. If I remember correctly, that’s a lot more work than playing RuneScape every day and using my Hulu account.
I really considered breaking up with him right at that moment, but I changed my mind and decided to give him another chance. Looking back on it, big mistake.
I messaged him throughout the night and we sort of made up, but I was still a little uneasy about the entire event.
He had moved back with his parents by the time December had come and I began to help him look for jobs while he wasted his life away playing video games. I eventually persuaded him to start working at a small retail store near his house and he thankfully began to make an income!
I would still buy him video games and transfer him funds like normal because I spoiled him. Our relationship began to feel somewhat okay again.
Last month, both he and I put our dough together to fly him across the US to stay with me for 4 days.
We hadn’t seen each other in person since last summer, so we were both looking forward to it. He arrived and we had a great time for the first few days because he could actually take me out for once with his new income.
Everything was perfect until I caught a glimpse of his phone’s lock screen while he was taking a shower.
‘When are you gonna leave herrrrr?’ the Discord message read.
I could have run into the bathroom and snapped his neck at that moment but I kept myself together as best as I could without killing him.
I had never felt so used, disrespected, or hated in my entire life. When he came out of the bathroom, I gave him a fake smile, but I genuinely hated him from that moment on.
He could have dropped dead on the floor and I would have spat on him. I spent the remainder of the night watching him play RuneScape and I remained very quiet. He took notice of this and asked me if everything was okay, and I lied and told him I was fine.
When it came time to go to sleep, I let that jerk climb into bed with me and he tried initiating physical affection because it was our final night together. I rejected as politely as I could.
He was disappointed but went out like a light.
Immediately after he went to sleep, I reached over and unplugged his phone, and started digging through his messages with that girl. I feared that I had misinterpreted the message I had seen, but I was completely right after all.
Not only had he been unfaithful to me, but he had also been going behind my back for nearly six months; leading me to believe that he hooked up with another girl directly after I couldn’t pay for his living in November.
I scrolled through probably 100,000 messages and wanted to vomit my insides out by the end of it. He had talked trash about me, claimed I was emotionally abusive (just as he had done with his parents), and even sent this girl my personal photos so they could pick me apart physically.
When morning came, I had slept in because of how late I was up reading his messages. I woke up to find him on my computer playing RuneScape and eating my food. It was like our entire relationship had been wiped from my mind and he was now an evil stranger sitting in my house.
I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to tear him apart and kick him out of my house onto the street, but I didn’t. In fact, I gave him as much love and attention as I could muster that morning because I wanted to leave things feeling normal between us.
I dropped him off at the airport and we had a quick and somber goodbye before I left him forever, unbeknownst to him.
I drove back home as calmly as I could before crying my eyes out in a mix of complete anger and emotional pain.
I ended up kicking my bedframe so hard that the wood split and I had to buy another one recently. If only it were his face. I wanted to break his heart by the time he arrived back home, but I wanted it to really hurt.
I logged into our joint RuneScape account that we had made several years ago, where he and I would work on training the same account and raising it almost like our ‘baby.’ We had always joked that if we were to ever split up, he would take half of the account’s bank contents and I would take the rest. I took my half and transferred it to my main account before taking his half and giving it away to random people throughout the game.
Every last bit of it. Even items I couldn’t normally trade away, I used a spell to convert the items into coins which I then gave away as well. The bank was now empty.
It then occurred to me that the credentials to his main account were written down in my desk, as he would frequently have me train his Farming skill every so often. I didn’t hesitate at all and logged into his precious 14-year-old RuneScape account.
I immediately took all of the contents of his bank and sold it all on the Grand Exchange, a marketplace in the game. It took an extremely long time to clear out his bank, but he would still be flying home for about another 4 hours so I had plenty of time.
By the time I had sold/destroyed everything, I had four stacks of coins totaling over 8.5 billion. Now what to spend it on, hmm…
I wanted to waste his ‘life earnings’ on the most useless, stupid thing I could think of besides him.
I logged back into my main account to reach out to a friend of mine that collects massive stacks of burnt food. For the unaware, burnt food in RuneScape has no use. You can’t ‘unburn’ them, eat them, or even sell them on the Grand Exchange.
They are, however, tradable amongst players. I’ve always poked fun at this guy for collecting burnt food, but I was now more thankful than ever to make his acquaintance in my revenge.
I asked him what the most obscure, unwanted item of the burnt food variety was and he replied “Burnt spider”. Lo and behold, he had roughly 6,000 of the item “Spider on shaft (burnt)” in his bank that he was willing to sell me.
Feeling generous with my ex-’s coins, I gave my friend a full stack of 2.147 billion coins and left a very happy customer. I dropped the 6,083 burnt spiders in his bank, but still had about 6 billion coins left to spend.
With the remaining coins, I decided to treat myself. I went onto the Grand Exchange and ended up going on a shopping spree! The first thing I bought was 100 bonds. If you’re not familiar, a bond in RuneScape grants you 14 days of in-game Membership.
After trading all 100 bonds to my account, I now have almost 4 years of Membership paid for me. I spent a majority of his coins on extremely nice armor and weapons, all of which went straight into my account.
He still had about an extra billion, so I spent it on the supplies I needed to level up an expensive skill of mine. By the end of the afternoon, he was left with a measly 150,000 coins in his bank, all of which I gave away to a guy cooking pizzas outside of the Exchange.
Nothing was left, so I decided to pick up a pile of bones off the ground and leave it solely in his bank. It might sound petty, but I laughed for a while.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is so cruel, you ruined the tens of thousands of hours he had put into a game! Well, it was time he learned that I can be a jerk, a MEAN jerk.
On top of spending every last coin he had ever made, I leveled his Defense skill. This may not sound bad; in fact, it sounds like a good thing! I helped his account progress, right?
Well, no. Unfortunately for my ex, he had what players commonly refer to as a ‘pure’ account: meaning he never, EVER dared to level his Defense skill from Level 1, in order to keep the lowest defense stats but have high offensive stats.
Well, not anymore. Have fun with your permanent Level 6 Defense.
Cycling through hundreds of possible forms of revenge in my head, I settled on getting rid of his house. It’s quite an achievement in RuneScape to have a nice house of your own, in fact, he had one of the nicest I had ever seen in the game.
In order to have built it, he must have spent well over a few billion coins.
Too bad I had disassembled it all in a matter of minutes, deleting it all into cyberspace.
And there’s no insurance either, he’s going to have to rebuy everything with his non-existent coins if he wants a new house. Bye-bye, Casa de jerk.
Scrolling through his friend’s list, I decided to act like him and pay a visit to his friends who were currently online and admit that I had been unfaithful to my partner and was fully proud of it.
If his friends hadn’t removed him by that point, I removed them. All of them.
Lastly, to add a beautiful little cherry to this revenge-filled cake, I changed his username.
You’re able to change your username once a month on RuneScape, so I changed his to let everybody know that he’s a dirty loser.
I obviously won’t drop his username here, but I did the best I could to embarrass him with a 12 character limit. He should be able to reclaim his previous username in about three weeks, but if he waits too long, I’ll be able to swipe it and slap it on a throwaway account of my own forever.
He sent me a very hateful and aggressive message later that night, followed by pictures of him crying. I wrote him a sincere message officially ending the relationship, while also scaring him away by threatening to ‘take him to court’ for sharing my personal pictures and possibly filing a cease-and-desist if he were to contact me any time soon.
I don’t plan on doing any of that, I just don’t want to speak to him ever again.”
3. Don't Leave Your Shopping Cart Unattended
“First off, I’m handicapped. My mom and I stop by a busy grocery store, where the handicap spots are usually always full… Just as we’re turning in to park, some lady decides that the best place to leave her shopping cart is smack dab in the middle of said spot.
I look around to see that there are TWO cart pens nearby. My mom honks at the lady and she turns to look at me. I point at the cart, but she just keeps walking and gets into her car.
So her car is almost directly behind us and the way we’re situated blocks her from getting out of her spot. Instead of pulling up to the cart, removing it, and finishing parking, my mom slowly disembarks and returns the cart to its respective spot.
At this point, I can see the lady getting impatient. She even tries to back up and squeeze through to no avail.
When my mom gets back in, I remind her of her unanswered texts.
We get some laughs in and we finally decide to pull up into the spot and let her through, but just as we move, a nearby car starts to backup, blocking her in yet again.
From her side-view mirror, I can see that she’s fuming at this point. When she finally gets out, she speeds out of the parking lot.
Maybe next time she’ll think twice about leaving stray carts.”
2. I Disabled Jerk Neighbor's Van
“Several years ago, I lived on the northwest coast of Puerto Rico. It’s a very relaxed area, with tons of good restaurants and lots of green space. My apartment was on a cliff, not far from the water.
The electric infrastructure was a bit old, so when it was rainy season, we’d lose power for a few hours at a time. Not a big deal—I had a gasoline generator.
Enter a new neighbor. He lived two doors down from me and drove an amazing custom Chevy van from the 70s. All it needed was an epic airbrushed Wizard on the side. Sadly though, that’s where anything good about him ended. I caught him taking the gas out of an orange jug I’d leave outside in case the generator ran out.
Although I saw him do it and called him out on it, he denied it and played stupid.
So after the second time, I took all of the gas in the jug, filled the generator with it, and put the rest in my car.
I then went to the nearest gas station that had diesel and filled it up with diesel. A few days later, I am woken up by a tow truck backing up to pick up his now disabled van.
I looked out the window and you could see the anger on his face. He moved out the next month, and from what I gathered from talking to people in the community, he was a general piece of trash human and what happened to him was deserved.”
1. Have Fun Looking For The Car Damage
“I was trying to find a parking spot at my university. The lot was notoriously crowded but my campus didn’t have a lot of options.
While searching, I saw a Corvette taking up FOUR prime spots near the front of the lot. After about 10 minutes of waiting and looking for a spot, one opened up towards the back of the lot finally.
Furious at the nerve of the Corvette driver being so inconsiderate, I then wrote a note saying, ‘Sorry I hit your car, you probably won’t even notice the damage,’ and left it on their windshield.
When I got out of class and was headed back to my car, I saw a very stereotypical college-aged Corvette owner frantically searching their vehicle while yelling into their phone.
I don’t know who they were talking to, but I feel bad for them having to deal with this person.”
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