People Hit Us With Their "Coming Back Harder" Revenge Stories

There are many circumstances where being the bigger person or killing someone with kindness makes sense. Then there are times when the situation only seems to get worse. For instance, ignoring a group of bullies doesn't always stop the bullying. And being nice to a condescending co-worker doesn't always encourage them to cut the cruelty and warm up to you. Some people are just, well, jerks no matter how you act towards them. Eventually, you might find yourself at a breaking point with them. You don't want anything from them: an apology, their pity, their kindness, their friendship... At that point, you just want to destroy them and make their life miserable, just like they made you miserable. You'd do anything and everything in your power to make it happen. And here we are with some of the finest revenge stories where people go HARD on their enemies. (Maybe a little too hard at times? But who cares!) Enjoy each read below, and show us your favorite stories by upvoting them!

12. Your Dog Bites Me? Just Wait Until I Find Out About Your Illegal Operation

The dog owner wasn’t so innocent after all.

“This happened when I was 19, so about 5 years ago.

I was walking home from a friend’s house one morning and had my headphones in.

He lived a bit out of town (we lived in a small town of 4,000 people). As I was walking, I turned the corner to get onto the main road. I had a big ditch to the left of me and a row of rundown houses to the right.

Then I see two dogs running towards me. I’m used to dogs running around here and looking for treats or to get pet. Anyways, one dog quits running while the other, a boxer breed, runs towards me, he bites my ankle. He latches down freaking hard.

I scream out in pain, and he drags me down into the ditch.

I fall on my back, look up and see this dog dive at my face. I kick him in the face and jump up. There is a car honking at me that is trying to get me to get in.

I crawl up the ditch, and the dog bites my leg again. Kick it, then get to the car. Dog jumps up at me, and I block it with my arm. Now I have one bloody leg and one scratched-up arm that is bleeding profusely.

I get into the car and land in the lap of two women.

I’m apologizing, asking to be taken to the hospital. I’m a freaking mess. One woman says my name and says we were classmates. I apologize that I don’t recognize her. They are coming home from church.

I jumped into a car of Jehovah’s Witnesses.

The driver says he’s going to drive slowly past the place. We see the boxer dog run up to a house, a woman looking outside checking to see if the coast is clear, and letting him inside.


I call my mom and explain to her I’m heading to the hospital. She laughs but then realizes I’m serious.

We get there, I apologize for the blood on their car, and get wheelchaired into the hospital. I have a nurse working on my arm and a doctor working on my leg.

The wound wasn’t deep enough for stitches, but the tooth got wiggled around when I tried getting him off. The bite mark is pouring out blood. It takes about 10 of those iodine needle things to clean it out. Then they do the other side of my leg.

My mom gets there seeing tons of bloody bandages and stuff around me. She freaks out and calls the cops.

After I’m cleaned up and on some good pain meds, I talk to an officer. After he takes some pics of my wounds for the case, I talk him through what happened. We then decided to go to the owner’s place and check it out.

We get there, cop knocks on the door. The woman opens it.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I have a gentleman here who was knocked into that ditch by a dog living here, supposedly.”

The woman goes “No, my dog Hannibal (Literally his name. Couldn’t make that up) is an old dog who only has a couple of teeth.

No way he would hurt someone.”

Hannibal looks out and starts barking and snapping toward me. The woman drags him back.

Policeman: “Well, I’ve seen enough.”

Woman: Are they pressing charges?

Police: Not sure yet.

So I go home, think about it, and decide that I want my hospital costs to be paid for.

And then a little bit for the pain. I think the total was like $2,000. The hospital was about $1,250 of it. My mom’s friend who was a lawyer said I could sue for up to $5,000.

I decline and then get asked if I want the dog put down.

I have a dog of my own. I love dogs. I couldn’t put the dog down. I decline that also. Knowing I don’t want to have someone’s animal put down if they love him.

So fast forward a month. I am told the owner is wanting to go to court to argue against the charges.

Excuse me…what? This is a clear-cut case. I have eyewitnesses, doctors that saw my injuries, pictures, and a policeman who saw your dog go after me on sight. What the crap?

So I go to the courthouse, and even though the woman was not supposed to talk to me until we were in the courtroom, she comes over to me and says “I can’t afford this.

I’m so sorry. I have to fight it.”

Now I feel bad. I stay quiet and we go into the courtroom.

I tell my side of it; the witnesses do too. I feel bad the whole time thinking this woman is about to lose everything.

The policeman will show his findings the next day.

I don’t sleep all night, and the next morning, the policeman comes by my place and asks to talk with me. I sit outside with him and tell him I think I’m going to drop most of the charges because I feel bad for this old lady.

The policeman says “Not so quick. I did some digging.” He shows me pictures of the house and a small backyard in the back. There are literally 6 dogs, all boxers, stuffed inside this tiny backyard.

Oh heck no. It gets worse. She owns them and keeps them for a wealthy guy in New York City.

He sells them to people, not telling them that they are cooped up and aggressive as heck. I instantly think they are going to be put in dog fighting rings and such.

I research the price of a pure-blood boxer. They can go from $500-$3,000.

She has 6 of them. Bullcrap, she can’t afford it. I’m sure she’s had some other dogs before too. So I’m ready to do what needs to be done.

Back to the courtroom.

Judge: “Yesterday, I was told you were thinking about dropping the charges or at least lowering them?”

Me: “Yes, your Honor.”

The woman gets really excited.

Me: “That is, until this morning. I found out some unsettling news about animal neglect and animal maltreatment.”

The woman’s face gets shocked and then glares at me.

The policeman goes and explains to the judge how the woman had never let the dogs out in the 3 days he watched the house.

Fed them very little and ignored them completely. Hannibal had gotten through the fence and bit me.

Judge is obviously an animal lover. Gets furious at the woman. I end up getting hospital bills covered, plus an additional $3,000.

The woman loses all dogs to the animal shelter.

I heard a couple had to be put down because they were so violent.

The dude in New York got investigated, but I think he paid something that made it go away.

The woman moved out of town after the local paper heard news of it.”

1 points - Liked by joha2

11. Try To Make Me Pay For Damages That Were Already There? The Court Will Handle You

“This is for anyone who’s ever been screwed over by an apartment complex.

A few years back, I was moving into a new apartment with a co-worker of mine.

He was an okay roommate, and a good guy overall, just did some crappy things. NOT the focus of the story though. Anyway, so as we move in, they give us the inventory of the apartment, so we can mark everything that’s wrong with it.

They tell us they just had the carpets replaced 18 days earlier and that the maintenance crew had also replaced the stove and bathtub. Yay for us right?

So we went through and started marking stuff. I’m a bit strict about this stuff, so I marked every little mark, ding, scratch, etc. in the place.

In this allegedly new grayish carpet, you know the type that will quickly stain when the sun shines on it, there were 3 smallish stains on it, all off-yellow, one in the living room, one in my room, and one in my roommate’s room. We marked this down and made sure we were very specific.

We then finished up, turned the inventory in, went over it with the leasing agent who signed that it was accurate, and we were good to go. I move in with my pup, and my roommate moves in with his cat.

Fast forward 14 months, I’m moving out to move in with a couple of other friends, and we are getting ready to clean and whatnot when who shows up but Karen, the leasing agent, for the ‘preinspection.’ I was at work at the time, but my girl was there.

Apparently, Karen walks in, down the hallway, says, “Oh yes, carpet” and then walks out. She’d been in the apartment less than a minute. Now, even though we were guys and not super clean freaks, we did maintain an overall clean environment (according to my girl), so her saying that was weird.

We figured we were okay. Yeah, stupid us.

We moved out and on our separate ways. I get a bill in the mail 3 weeks after moveout for $1,400 for carpet replacement and other random cleaning things. Now, some of those things were completely on me or my roommate because one, my roommate got attacked right one night about a week or two before we moved out, so he did no cleaning whatsoever.

My girl and I did our best, but we figured we’d get dinged a little but not the full $500 deposit and then an extra $1,400. Holy crap. I sit down with Karen and Karen’s boss, Super Witch, and ask basically “What the heck?” They brought up the 3 stains and said they were made either by my dog or our roomie’s cat.

They also said the inventory on our first day that Karen signed was invalid because I was “too thorough for it to be true,” and the carpet was brand new. I basically said, “That’s bullcrap, and I’m not paying it.”

So Super Witch sent it to collections.

I fought it for a year with the collection agency and got nowhere. It took my credit score from around a 750 to a 650. Needless to say, I was exhausted from my high-stress job, from fighting this, and I was just ready to just pay for it to be done.

Until the best partner in the world pointed out that I should just sue them.

So I did. I sued the apartment complex for $7,500, the max I could sue in small claims without needing to get a lawyer involved (I couldn’t afford one). I had the sheriff’s department deliver the lawsuit paperwork to the apartment complex’s parent company and had a court date set.

I was scared as I had never done this kind of thing before. I prepped what little evidence I had and went to court. The honorable Judge Awesome McAweomesauce was presiding that day, and when my case was called, I went up with my evidence, and the apartment complex… was nowhere to be found.

So, Judge Awesome asked me why I was suing for such a large amount. I explained the situation and showed that I had the inventory with their signature that clearly said both parties agreed there were stains on the carpet prior to my move-in, and therefore I didn’t think it was fair I had to pay for the carpet, but I was willing to pay what I knew I owed if they would just remove my bill from collections.

I also said I had called in sick from the anxiety of dealing with this a few times over the last year, and I was currently missing work to be in court that day, and while I didn’t expect to get $7,500, I wanted to get their attention and stick it to them because they can’t just treat people like this.

Judge Awesome listened and smiled and said something along the lines of, “Well, since they aren’t here, I will give you a summary judgment, which means you win, and not only do you not have to pay for the carpet, but you can have your full deposit back.” I wanted to start dancing, but I’m in court and a terrible dancer, so I didn’t.

He gave me my full deposit back plus the few days of work I missed, even though I said I got sick pay for it. All in all, it was about $1,500. AND he ordered that they remove it from my credit and take it from collections.

I called them up and told them that I had sued them today and won. Super Witch said, “Oh, well, we had a mixup and our lawyers forgot to show up, but would you still like to pay your bill?” I laughed at her and said “Heck no” and hung up.

They tried to not pay initially, so I sent them a letter with the judge’s judgment and said I would put a lien on the company if they didn’t pay up, so I got a check about a week later.

Basically, take photos, get copies, and never just pay the bill if you don’t actually owe it… It IS worth fighting in court if it’s truly not on you.”

1 points - Liked by joha2

10. Try To Charge Me $52 For YOUR Water Bill? Enjoy Getting In All Sorts Of Legal Trouble

“This was sevenish years ago in upstate NY. I had moved there for graduate school and knew no one. The first place I lived was with roommates I found on Craigslist. This was the first place I had ever rented in my life with my name on the lease where I was essentially responsible for myself.

The roommates I had were dang shady, and the place was a wreck – but cheap at least.

I made a few friends in the first couple of months, and by about November, they were talking about finding places for the following year – which is common in a lot of college towns.

Three of my friends found a place together, and so I decided to find a place with my two other friends – we’ll call them Pat and Dora.

We look around a bit, and end up finding a place a few houses down from our other three friends, and sign the lease in late November.

Like lots of the housing in this area, it’s a house with two apartments – one upstairs (us) and one downstairs (we later found out, 4 undergrads), and a shared basement/garage. The landlord seems pretty swell too.

Included in our rent are snow removal and water; heat, power, and internet are not.

In this area, especially, this is common as heat is expensive. Also, chatting with the landlord about this, he explains to us that to have separate billing for multi-unit housing you need to have separate meters for each unit – legally. He goes on to say that for this, and most properties, this is pretty easy to do for electricity, but a lot harder and expensive to do for water which is why most multi-unit places include water.

The school year comes and goes, and we move in at the beginning of June, no problems. Toward the end of August, our landlord calls and tells us he’s selling the place. Not to worry though, our lease is still good of course, and the new guy owns some properties already.

Cool, whatever, we get the new address to send the check to. The new landlord seems fine. We call in October about a power outlet not working, he gets it fixed. He’s good about snow removal. No real problems. Also, he’s from New Zealand.

Tells us he owns a dozen or so properties in the area.

We barely interact with the downstairs neighbors. They’re alright for undergrads, and, over the course of the year, we only have a half dozen interactions where we need to ask them to keep it down (because it’s 4 am on a Wednesday) or to ask to let someone out who’s parked in.

Notable is that the school we’re talking about here is fairly expensive, and most of the undergrads come from backgrounds with a fair amount of money – you’d need to, in order to afford this school (or take out a heap of loans). Downstairs neighbors have really nice cars, and a lot of nice stuff in the garage, seems likely they come from money.

They also let us have their beer bottles and cans to recycle, which is really nice of them, and nets like $10-$20 a week.

The school year comes and goes. We move out. I move out first, over memorial day, since I’m working in Asia for the summer and then moving out of state.

I don’t see the place again, but ask roommates to clean well enough, so we get some of the deposit back.

I don’t figure this out until later, but it seems that every interaction with the landlord is something he stretches to the absolute limit of what he’s allowed – 30 days, 2 weeks, whatever.

I leave for Asia and in early July email Pat and Dora if they’ve received their deposits back (I gave my parents’ address as forwarding). They had, and Dora sends me a scan of it. Going through, we each lost $70 for cleaning and damage, and then there was a bill for $52 for the water bill.

I don’t know how they left it, so I guess maybe it took $70 to clean. So it goes.

I remember that water was included in the rent. I bring this up with both of them, which they remember as well.

I email the landlord and mention this to him.

At this point, I assume he maybe has a different setup at other properties and made an honest mistake – accidents happen.

I hear back from the landlord two weeks later. He asks to see a copy of the lease. Reflecting on this, I assume he thought I wouldn’t have access to one since I was in Asia.

I have Dora and Pat scan me the lease, mail him a copy, and email it to him.

I hear back two weeks later, he says he’ll send us the deposit. By the time I get it, it’s late August, and I’m home from Asia.

Yay, I get my $52 back.

Talking to Dora and Pat a few weeks later (Pat had just gotten engaged and was video chatting with the whole old crew), I find out neither of them had gotten their $52. At this point, I was livid. Clearly, that was not an honest mistake.

The landlord assumed I didn’t talk to them and that they wouldn’t find out.

Pat and Dora are livid. I am livid. We dig out the contact information from the undergrads who lived downstairs and let them know what’s up. We also let the current residents know what happened since we happened to have contact info for some of them.

We write them an email, and I provide copies of all of my emails with the landlord and the lease.

I hear from Pat and Dora that they get their money 30 days later and that landlord was a jerk about it. I don’t think about it for a long time, even though I’m still in touch with Pat and Dora.

About two years after this happens I get an email from a law firm, asking if I used to live at the old address and if the landlord was my landlord. I reply yes, and they ask to speak on the phone.

The law firm belongs to one of the undergrad’s dads.

This is how he could afford expensive schooling. Through the course of the conversation, it comes out that dad was really angry about this – that someone would try to take advantage of his son. He has the time and resources to go scorched earth on the landlord.

Dad brings a case against the landlord and has his people comb through all of the landlord’s records, former tenants, etc. As it turns out, he’s been scamming people like this for quite a while. Pertinent here also was the fact that he didn’t have separate water meters.

The lawyer explains to me that because of this, the landlord is facing jail time. He apparently did enough of this, and they were able to provide evidence for it, that it rose to the level of some more serious crap – like a criminal case over a civil one I think.

On top of this, I’m getting my $70 back and so are Dora and Pat as part of some settlement deal.

The landlord might have to sell his properties. The kicker is that, as it turns out, the landlord’s legal status could be in jeopardy because of this being a serious crime.

Again, I don’t really remember the particulars and don’t know if this lawyer was exaggerating.

I really just wanted my $52 back for the water bill.”

0 points (0 votes)

9. Be A Total Creep On The Job? You'll Be Receiving Your Last Paycheck

“So this happened a year or so ago.

Working at a college bookstore, we constantly have to charge a ridiculous amount to students, so the college can make a crap ton and then buy them back from you for cheap after the term is over.

We had our manager, we will call N, and her boss, we will call COG (Creepy Old Guy).

COG was the freaking worst. He would insult us in front of customers to make himself look powerful, would flirt with my female coworkers, and would walk around trying to look tough, while he was only a 70-year-old man with a hunchback.

The bookstore was horrible to work at. Everyone hated it, none of us were ever sure about how many hours we would get the next week, we received minimum wage, it was the freaking worst. None of us were close friends with each other because we were all so spaced out and confined to our own areas, that no one talked much.

It was pretty much a dictatorship.

So after working there for a long 6 months, we were about to have this meeting with HR about Title IX. Pretty much about harassment in the workplace.

Then I started hearing about the underbelly of what was really going on in the bookstore.

COG was constantly hitting on the girls in the workplace. Women had quit because he would try to get them to model some of the new clothes we got (we also sold memorabilia for the school), and he would constantly check them out.

For example, one girl named Kaylee was a lead in the store.

She had been promoted again and again because she was such a hard worker.

One day I came in and was told she no longer worked here. Apparently, one of our male coworkers had found her number and tried getting pics from her, and she freaked out on him.

COG and N were the ones checking over everything, only for Kaylee to be fired for acting unprofessional, and the guy got suspended a month for inappropriate behavior.

I’m a guy and I know that’s freaking wrong. Kaylee told us later that COG was the one who made the final decision on the punishment.

So anyways, there was this girl who worked in the mailroom. We will call her Erica. Erica comes up to me and says, “Crap is about to hit the fan in the HR meeting.”

Oh crap, here we go.

We get into the meeting, all 30 coworkers and HR lady 1 and HR lady 2.

They go into a 15-minute speech about what is correct behavior, etc., etc… and then we do an activity on these huge poster boards about, “What does harassment look like?” “What does it sound like?”

So what do we do?

We write out the description of COG and phrases he has said.

We fill up the poster board so much that they have to ask us to stop and go sit back down.

Then they ask us where is this coming from. Erica stands up and says, “I’ve complained to you 5 times in the 2 years I’ve been here.

I’m graduating next month, and I’m tired of it. You’re telling us how to behave, but when the guy who has multiple complaints and is the biggest jerk in the school isn’t here, we don’t freaking care what you have to say.”

She starts storming out, and one of the HR ladies calls for her to come back.

Erica stands there waiting for them to say something.

I stand up and say, “You know what? This is complete bullcrap. Even though I’m a guy, I know myself and the other guys here are sick of hearing how our coworkers are being treated like objects, and you guys aren’t doing crap.

I’m outta here.”

After that, 90% of our coworkers follow us out.

Meeting is freaking over.

Two days later, Erica and I get requests to go see HR on our break. We get interviewed separately, and during mine, the HR lady asks about all the rumors, etc. Finally, after telling her everything, I told her that no one there thinks HR will do crap because COG is way high up in management.

I see HR lady’s eyes flair up.

“No one is above getting away with harassment,” I told her that; I guess we will see.

In the next week, every employee is called into HR. Managers and COG have no idea what it’s about because they were not allowed to know.

Find out that one day, Kaylee was wearing an Old Navy pair of jeans with a logo on the left buttcheek. COG comes up, slaps her behind, and says, “How’s it going, Old Navy?”

He also fired a manager a couple of years ago because she wouldn’t personally model for him.

He would corner girls and look them up and down while licking his lips.

Every time it’d be reported. Nothing would happen.

Finally, I get to work maybe a week after the investigations had started. COG is gone. Office completely cleared out. Management is baffled. Employees are high-fiving, smirking, etc. Management starts complaining that they should know why.

It’s not their place and against the law, so we can’t say why. Employees feel a sense of power we haven’t felt in a long time.

Find out the day he’s coming in to pick up his last check. Invite Kaylee to the store.

We all glare at him while he walks by. COG turns red as heck out of anger/embarrassment.

Around this time, it’s summer, so they lay off a bunch of people. We went from about 30 employees to about 12. Some of us ask for a raise; no one gets any.

We say we are doubling our workload and getting paid the same.

N is manager now. She refuses but tries to build us up and say we are her handpicked staff to start again at the bookstore and make it better. We will be a massive help to the new people we hire at the beginning of next school year.

Once again, most of us ask for a raise. 2 people get one as they are promoted to lead.

The last 10 of us are furious. Unknown to each other but we all were searching for different jobs.

I still laugh when I remember my manager’s face when she gets 10 people giving their two weeks’ notice at the end of summer.

They went into the school year (busiest time of the year) with a completely new staff who know nothing.

I walked in there a few days ago after not being there for about a year. No one works there that I worked with. Find out the turnover rate is extremely high.

Even a couple of lower managers quit after a month or so. The bookstore is now the laughingstock of the school.

Screw you, COG.”

Another User Comments:

“The real villain here is the HR department who sat on reports for years without doing anything.

Their lack of response gave the appearance of tacit approval and created a hostile work environment.” ryanknapper

0 points (0 votes)

8. Constantly Scream At Us On The Phone? I'll Permanently Ban You From Using Our Services

“This story takes place 5 or 6 years ago.

Firstly, some background: I used to work for a company that was contracted to do a number of other companies’ customer care and technical support needs. Each of the companies’ clients was set up as a separate department so that employees would work exclusively with that particular client’s customers and technical support.

I worked in two separate departments in my time with this employer. I have many many stories regarding this employer and the callers we received.

This particular story is related to one of the callers I had for the first client, a popular online romance service, I worked with at my company.

The online service was that one that had those weird commercials with that old dude and a little girl talking about how amazing the service is and how it’s like the number one site using a “scientific approach” and that it leads to more marriages than other similar services.

Side note: I personally found those commercials to be particularly creepy as a child should not be having this sort of in-depth discussion regarding a service they really should only be marginally aware of at that age. There’s nothing actually wrong with the commercials; I just found them off-putting.

BB is the person using the service who is calling in to get customer support and technical assistance. I legit remember this woman’s real name and her appearance (via her profile; she had a pic or two of her on there). We never called her by her real name.

We called her something very mean which I can’t disclose for privacy reasons due to it being a play on her actual name. She called in so often our ENTIRE department would make fun of her and had her account number memorized. She usually called multiple times a day, for the EXACT SAME ISSUE EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I have been with this employer for over a year at the point this story takes place and have to speak to this woman minimum every other day and I am TIRED of her bullcrap. I see her call come in, and I decide I am done.

I know she has a temper as she yells at us regularly. We have threatened to disconnect her before, but no one has yet. While annoying, we couldn’t escalate her to the security department for maltreatment until she amped it up. I knew if I got her angry enough, she would start swearing and calling names.

If she used several more demeaning words (instead of her usual name calling of weak sauce names like “stupid”), I could get her account closed since if her account was reviewed and the security department saw how much she treated us like trash and how much of the resources she was wasting.

Since I have talked to her so many times, I know exactly how to push her buttons. It was SO EASY and worked way better than I thought it would, oh my goodness.

Me: Thank you for calling (popular online service’s name), may I please have the information needed to pull the account?

BB: (immediately super irritated and condescending) I should not have to give you this information. You should be able to pull everything up automatically.

Me: (I can totally do this as I recognized her from her voice and have her account memorized and pulled it up when she started talking, but I know having to take the time to give me the information, as required by my employer, would set her on edge as it does every call.) I’m sorry Ma’am, but I need the information to pull up the account, or I cannot assist you in any way (normally I leave it at saying I need the information, but she is always complaining about the “lack” of customer service, and she is always going on about how much she HATES being hung up on).


Me: (I am using my most sweet, buttery, customer service voice. I am told I give a good voice.) I would love to assist you.

What is the information that I need to pull the account so I may do so?

BB: (Yells for a while about how this isn’t something she should have to do, this is something she wants to be automatic, etc., etc., all the things she normally yells at this point.)

Me: (Normally, I wait for them to take a break from yelling and then just ask politely for the information again, but I am super salty at this lady.) If you cannot partake in a professional call at this time and since YOU (I placed special emphasis on this word, still so sweet she was gonna get a cavity) will not allow me to assist you by refusing to provide the information I need to do so I will disconnect the call.

(I can hear BB grinding her teeth for several minutes, and instead of waiting for her to finish, I poke at her.) Do you still require assistance?

She changed her volume, though was still yelling if that makes sense. Not sure how to describe it.

BB: Gives abbreviated information needed to pull her account.

I have enough information to pull her account, but I tell her that I need the full information. I swear she was going to break her teeth with the amount of grinding she was doing but she finally angrily choked out the full information.

Before I finished “typing” it in she started demanding to know why it was taking so long to pull it up. I told her I was having issues with my computer and it would take just a moment. I was not actually having issues.

I was busy scrolling through her profile and seeing her matches, messages back and forth with them, and her pics. After 5 minutes or so of her periodically angrily asking how long it was going to take, and listening to her grind her teeth, I tell her the account is up and ask how I can assist her today.

I already know what she is going to ask though.

BB: I want to edit my profile, and it won’t let me. The site is too slow, the type is too small, the matches I’m getting aren’t good enough, etc.

Me: I explain the matching process for the billionth time, I explain the site is slower on mobile devices (I know she uses a super old iPhone as it is noted several times in previous notes the preferred device as she had made enough of a big deal about it that it got added to her notes on a consistent basis), and I advise she would have an easier time if she used the app or the full desktop site.


Me: (interrupting, something I also know she hates) If you cannot partake in a professional call at this time, I will disconnect. Do you still require assistance?

At this point, she is panting due to how angry she is and grinds her teeth some more.

BB: I pay for this service, and I should be able to use it how I want. (While not yelling, if her voice could kill, I would be dead.)

I remain silent as BB has not actually asked a question. This irritates her even more.

Since she knows this one is a losing battle for her she goes into why she called.

BB: I want to edit my profile, but it won’t let me. How do I edit my profile?

Legit, this is the only thing she calls in for.

EVERY note on her account is the representative saying things like “Member wants to edit profile advised (steps advised)” and “Member calling to edit profile advised (same way every rep advises her on how to do it)” with “member yelled the entire time, had to advise of disconnecting call before she stopped” on nearly every single note.

No one has actually disconnected her yet. From the amount of teeth grinding, I knew today was going to be my lucky day. I had already warned her twice, and on the third time, I’m allowed to say I was disconnecting the call and hang up.

Me: (gives instructions on how to edit) Literally, it’s click to edit profile and then you click the pencil icon next to whichever section you want that then save it. Not a particularly hard thing to do or remember.

I am very specific that it is an EASY THING TO DO and that our members DO NOT HAVE ISSUES WIITH THIS.

I am still being very polite, professional, and sweet-voiced.

BB: DO NOT GET LIPPY WITH ME (calls me several names that I can’t remember but were right along with her usual verbiage) THAT IS NOT WHAT THE PREVIOUS REP TOLD ME AND THAT IS NOT HOW IT DONE!

(She stops yelling before I can tell her to stop and continues condescendingly) this is how it is done (describes the instructions EXACTLY how I said them except she has to click the pencil icon a set number of times. Something like 6 times. I don’t remember exactly.)

At this point in time, I knew this was the moment. She had admitted to knowing how to do this several times previously and has just admitted to knowing how to edit her profile. The heavens opened up and the light of God shined upon me.

What I said next was going to set her off in epic proportions as I was going to call her out on the lie she just told.

Me: Per the previous (I named the number of calls she had made just that single month) (It was an insane amount.

We had a way to tally them, so like 50+) the representatives you’ve spoken to have advised you of the same instructions I have advised you.

BB took a big breath to start yelling, but I kept going.

Me: We have also advised you of your options in regard to which devices and browsers are compatible with the site.

It is not our job to ensure you are using a compatible device.

BB: (Just goes off like a volcano) HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO USE YOUR SERVICES.

She yelled more things I can’t remember, all entitled, all condescending, and then she pulls out the super demeaning cannot use in polite company words.

I’m a pretty aggressive typer, but I am being extra loud so that she knows I’m documenting the conversation. The faster I type the louder she gets and the more creative she starts with the swearing. I am documenting EVERY SINGLE thing she has called me and EVERY SINGLE phrase she has said that was in any way even vaguely verbally abusive.

After less than 2 minutes she is in full swing and I have paragraphs of crap she’s said to me. She is just getting louder and louder and more and more aggressive with each clickety-clack of the keyboard. I feel that is enough and that she is angry enough to call in several times after the call is done, continuing her tirade with the next representative.

Me: Since I am unable to assist you and you cannot have a professional conversation I am disconnecting the call, and I hung up on her.

I quickly copy and pasted all of my notes into her profile and then let all the other representatives know in the office chat she was most likely going to call again and that I wanted them to document literally the exact things she was saying and that I was sending the profile for review and they should too.

She called back 8 times, each time more angry and combative than the last. Every representative disconnected the call on her after three warnings and every single one escalated her profile. By the end of the day, her profile was red bannered (the account is force closed and the member will no longer be able to log in or get any refunds if they have a subscription) and her phone number was blocked.

In the next couple of months, she opened 5 other accounts and changed her number several times. She was STILL calling asking about editing her profile and still angry and still combative when we told her how to do it and the instructions didn’t magically change to what she wanted them to be.

Every time she called, we sent the profile up, and they were also red bannered. She finally gave up on calling, but every month, I would look her up as I had her information memorized, and if she had a profile, I would send it to be red-bannered, even if she hadn’t called in.

After a while, she stopped making new ones.

I continued checking to make sure she didn’t have a profile until the day I was laid off from the department due to the client taking their customer service needs elsewhere, and my employer didn’t need us anymore.”

0 points (0 votes)

7. Raise My Rent Because You're Jealous Of My Income? I'll Screw You Over $20,000

“In the late ‘90s, my wife and I were just married, just getting started, and we decided to DINK (“double income, no kids”) it for a few years to save up for a down payment on a house.

The dot-com bubble was still rising and I was a newly minted software developer.

I had an entry-level job for a while and then got recruited to a new city and a new job that paid 3x what I was making before. It was an offer too good to pass up. I ran the numbers and it was a no-brainer: by living frugally and saving my entire salary, living off just her income, we would easily have enough in a year to put a 20% down payment on a new house.

We rented an apartment in the new city that was listed for $950 a month. The landlord was a real estate agent who owned a two-bedroom condo as an investment property. Let’s call him “Hank Wazowski.” Hank was a thin, gray, no-nonsense guy. He was pleasant enough, but perfunctory, dry, and had no sense of humor.

He made a point of explaining that under no circumstances was he responsible for maintaining the garbage disposal and that it was NOT included in the rental agreement and he would not be responsible for fixing it were it to break. Um, ok.

He seemed slightly amused by us, a clueless, young, newlywed couple, but I could tell he wanted to rent to us because we were very obviously a safe choice as renters.

We filled out the rental agreement and the credit check, and this is where my troubles began. Hank looked hard at the credit application where I listed my job title, “Software Developer,” and my income, $75k. For a 23-year-old in his second year out of college, in the late 1990s, this is a small fortune.

Throw in my wife’s salary, and we were over six figures in income, renting an apartment far beneath our means. Like I said, DINK is the way to go when starting out.

“I can’t believe how much you make.” Hank must have said half a dozen times, muttering under his breath.

I explained we were saving to buy a house and that we were only going to stay in the apartment for a year. “We might stay a few months after the term is over, would month-to-month be ok after a year?”

Hank assured us that would be fine.

We saw Hank only once during the year and he again mentioned my salary and how he couldn’t believe that’s what software developers were making. It was awkward and I gave a vague reply.

Anyway, a year later we had found a house to buy, signed all the papers, and were making plans to move.

The new house wasn’t going to be ready until two months after our rental lease was up, so I called Hank to ask if we could, as discussed, simply extend the lease by two months before moving out. Hank assured me on the phone it would be no problem and he would send over an extension for us to sign.

The extension arrived in the mail and it included a month-to-month clause and a $500 increase in the rent. I flipped out and called him.

“Hank, why are you increasing the rent by over 50%? That’s too much! That’s more than my new mortgage is going to be!”

He was super condescending to me, “OP, it’s what the apartment goes for now. I would be losing money by renting it for less.” I tried to reason with him but it was very clear he knew we could afford the $500, had no choice in the matter, and he was going to screw us over as best he could.

He got angry with me for arguing my point, and I’ll never forget his parting words:

“You don’t have to like it, OP, you just have to pay it.”

My wife and I tried to figure out a way to move out early by putting our furniture in storage for a couple of months and crashing with friends, but it just wasn’t going to work out.

I swallowed my pride and wrote out the check for $1450 for the extra month. A month later I wrote a similar check, and then we moved out. I made sure the apartment was spotless before moving, but still, Hank withheld $300 from our security deposit for nonsense things that were just a way for him to squeeze a few more bucks from the kids who made too much salary.

$100 for cleaning, sure? But $300 was obscene. In my mind, he had screwed me over for $1,200, and there was nothing I could do about it.

What made it even more infuriating is that I saw the ad Hank put in the paper after we moved out and he listed the apartment for rent at only $150 more than we had been paying originally, not the grossly-inflated $500 increase.

And it didn’t rent. A month later I saw the same ad and he had lowered the price to $75 more than we had been paying, and I assume it got rented since the ads stopped appearing.

Fast-forward about five years. Life is good, the house is good, we have a baby, and even though the dot-com bubble has burst, I’m still employed. One day, out of the blue, I overhear one of my co-workers, Phil, a senior developer, talking to the guy working the reception desk:

“Hey, Mike, I’m expecting someone to drop off some paperwork for me. If a Hank Wazowski asks for me, tell him I’ll be right out.” I freeze and get a taste of bile in my mouth remembering how I had to write out that name on those checks all those years ago.

There’s no way it’s the same guy, right? I walk over to Phil who is still by the reception desk.

“Phil,” I say, “How do you know that name, Hank Wazowski?”

Phil explains that Hank is his real estate agent. “I bought my condo through him several years ago.

I’m selling my condo now so I can buy a house. So I’m going to ask him to be my agent again. Do you know him?”

I tell Phil that I used to rent an apartment from Hank and described what he looks like.

Phil confirms the description: it’s the same guy, wow small world, right? And on cue, right then the front door to the office opens, and in walks Hank Wazowski. I stare in disbelief. He’s carrying a folder of papers and doesn’t recognize me.

Phil and Hank shake hands and they talk for a few moments. I stand there silently, wondering what to do. Phil finally says, “Hank, this is my friend OP, I think you may have already met?”

“Yes, hello Hank. Good to see you again.

My wife and I were your tenants a few years ago on —- Street. Remember, the software developer who rented for a year saving to buy a house? Well, this is where I work. Here. With Phil.”

Hank’s eyes indicate he now remembers me, and he’s starting to put it all together.

We shake hands and he says yes, of course, he remembers and asks how we are doing.

“Oh, we’re just fine, thanks for asking. Phil says that you’re his real estate agent. Small world, isn’t it?”

Hanks nods pleasantly. He still doesn’t remember the details of our last conversation.

I do some quick math in my head. This is the early/mid-2000s, the real estate market is very strong and easy money for any agent. The crash of 2008 is still a few years in the future. I start to think out loud.

“Selling the condo for around $150 to 200 thousand, and you’re looking at houses in the $500 thousand range, so that’s $650 to 700 thousand in total transactions. An agent getting 3% on the sale AND the purchase is getting around $20k for his trouble. That’s a good commission for the agent, isn’t it?

Hank’s eyes flash and I can tell he remembers everything about me now. Phil is surprised at my passive-aggressive tone. I am enjoying the uncomfortable silence.

Hank deflects my question, saying it’s complicated, and tells Phil to send back the papers as soon as possible.

He shakes hands with Phil, looks at me, nods, and goes to leave. “It was really good to see you again, Hank,” I call behind him.

He exits the building. As the door is still shutting, I say a bit too loudly, so that Hank can hear, “Phil, don’t sign anything just yet, I have a story to tell you.”

Phil looks at me and says, “OP, what the heck was that all about?!” He looks mad and confused at my behavior.

I tell Phil the whole story, the rent, the $500 increase, the security deposit, “you don’t have to like it, you just have to pay it,” everything.

“Phil, you can’t use this guy to sell your condo and buy a house. I hate him. He’s evil. I’ll help you find another real estate agent, just use ANYONE BUT HANK!”

So the great thing about Phil is that, well, he’s a great guy.

He says he’s a little surprised at my story and has always known Hank as a straightforward guy. “But I totally see him doing that to you,” he admits. “There’s no way I could use him now. What a jerk!”

Then Phil’s eyes lit up a bit, “What do you want me to say when I fire him?” (I have special feelings for Phil now.)

We came up with a plan and I made sure there were some key phrases in Phil’s repertoire. We planned it all out together in advance. My only regret is that I didn’t get to see Hank’s reaction in person a day later when Phil made the following phone call while I stood behind him listening:

“Hi, Hank? It’s Phil calling. Yeah, about that. I’ve decided to get some other quotes from other agents. I’m not going to sign up with you.


“No no, you shouldn’t give a discount. You’d be losing profit if you did that…”


“No, this is just a decision I’ve made. No, it has nothing to do with OP.”


“Well, you don’t have to like it, Hank. You just have to accept it. Goodbye.”


And it was the greatest revenge I could have ever imagined: through a chance meeting years later, Hank got screwed out of twenty thousand dollars in easy commissions.

And the best part is Hank absolutely KNEW it had EVERYTHING to do with me!”

0 points (0 votes)

6. Threaten To Take My Job For Mentioning Safety Issues? Watch Us Take Legal Action

“This happened earlier this year, and it’s still ongoing. I was in my final year of college. In order to pay for textbooks and other school fees, I applied to a furniture company that is very popular in Canada. A new location, which was going to be an outlet, was opening up.

The building itself wasn’t even ready yet, so they were hiring ahead of time.

Within days of applying, I managed to get an interview with the store manager, who we will call Janet. At first, she appeared to be a great and understanding manager who had worked her way up into the company.

During this interview, Janet went over what was required of me. As a sales associate, I was required to ring people up, clean the sales floor, restock, the usual stuff. Part of our training involves Health & Safety, which is something this company took very seriously.

We were encouraged to watch out for our co-workers and had a hotline to report any unsafe activity.

When I asked about restocking, Janet assured me and my colleagues that we would not be responsible for bringing shipments onto the sales floor and wouldn’t have to lift anything over 50 pounds.

The company had a warehouse attached to our location and so the workers were supposed to help us bring in new stock.

Now the furniture at our location came from damages to stores around the country, which is why they ended up at our store.

The furniture in question isn’t simply stools and light furniture. We’re talking sofas, sectionals, solid wood dining tables, beds, dressers, and sideboards. Really heavy stuff. A lot of this stuff has glass, which of course, doesn’t ship well.

No problem for the warehouse dudes, because they have the necessary equipment to lift heavy things and have heavy boots.

So opening week comes, and the warehouse guys do their bit, bringing in furniture when we request it.

This goes on for about a month. During this time, Janet is hyping us up and telling us how proud she is of us and even organized a few pizza parties to reward us.

We begin to see Janet as The Best Manager Ever. She knows the struggles of working in sales and is very understanding; creating schedules to fit around our classes, as many of us were still attending college.

Then the honeymoon’s over. After the first month, the warehouse guys no longer show up; basically leaving the furniture at our backdoor and leaving.

Janet then explains to us that we will now be responsible for taking the furniture into the store. There were several issues with this:

  • All sales associates were required to adhere to a strict dress code of business attire – which includes slacks/skirts, button-ups, and flimsy flats and/or heels
  • We had no safety equipment to protect us from broken glass and other hazards of damaged furniture
  • We were never trained to properly transport furniture
  • Some pieces required the use of a (rickety) 10-foot ladder, to which no safety harness was attached and would wobble if you so much as breathed too hard

I’m sure you can imagine how difficult it would be to move over a 200-pound sofa dressed in a pencil skirt or balance on a ladder to put a large canvas on the wall.

I decided to approach Janet with my concerns. Seeing as she had been understanding of other issues and was easy to talk to, I thought she would be the right person to talk to.

She wasn’t.

“It’s just a little lifting OP, you honestly can’t do that?” she asked loudly. Despite this conversation taking place in the back room, I was later told it was very audible from the sales floor. I pointed out we had originally been told we would only be required to lift 50 pounds.

No one had ever warned us we would be required to move furniture around a 3000 sq ft facility. “Well, if you’re not willing to step up and help out OP,” Janet said, “I’m not sure if you’re the right fit for the job.” Stupidly, I spoke up.

“I just want to be safe while I’m working.” She then retorted with, “If you call the hotline, I’ll know it was you. This is a great place to work, and I’m still getting lots of applications. Just something to keep in mind.”

After that incident, Janet was a lot less understanding toward me. She cut my hours down; turning the majority of my shifts into on-calls. While not technically illegal, my paycheque took a big hit. Being broke and pretty ignorant of my rights, I kept my mouth shut…until I was injured on the job.

While I was moving some furniture, a sofa stacked on its end tipped towards me. To stop it from completely falling on me, I pushed it away and ended up injuring my wrist. It wasn’t until I went to the doctor’s did I find out I had sprained my wrist badly; requiring me to keep a wrap on it at all times.

When I showed up to work with the wrap, Janet insisted I get a doctor’s note to prove I wasn’t ‘faking the injury.’ Despite removing the wrap myself and showing her my very swollen and purple wrist, she denied it. When I did show up with a doctor’s note (which cost me 2 hours of pay at minimum wage), she dismissed it as being a forgery and told me if I wanted to keep my hours I had better figure out how to work with one hand.

That was the final straw. By this time, it was the start of the 2nd month of the store being open. Since I ruined the ‘aesthetic’ of the store with my injury, I was sent to the back to receive stock – the very place I had gotten my injury in the first place.

Keep in mind I was still required to stick to the dress code. But this gave me an opportunity. While I searched for another job, I began to document everything. Every broken mirror or door that rained shattered glass, every defect that could cause an injury was photographed, time-stamped, and noted. I compiled this into a document, also including Janet’s threats of firing me and her dismissal of my injury.

It became like another job to me. On my off days, I would attend interviews.

When the 3rd month started; my probation period was over and all staff was required to meet with Janet to see if the company wanted to keep us on.

A few days before my review, I received a call from a company that had interviewed me earlier in the week and wanted to hire me, with a higher salary. Now I had nothing to lose. I sent all of my documentation and evidence to the Ministry of Labour, along with the threat of losing my job if I attempted to contact anyone inside the company.

Within a day I received a message notifying me that these serious allegations were being looked into by an officer.

The day of my review, Janet looked awfully smug sitting at her desk. Before she could say anything, I handed in my week’s notice.

By the look on her face, she wasn’t expecting it. I told her I couldn’t work for a company that showed no concern about its employees. I then let it slip that I had notified the Ministry of the goings-on and everything she had said to me about my job.

Not only that, but I had gotten a new job.

Now Janet looked nervous. She asked me how much the new position was paying me, and I answered that it was more than what I was currently getting paid. She said she would talk to her boss to see if I could get a raise but only if I dismissed the case.

I shrugged and told her now that an officer was assigned to the case, it was out of my hands. My last two weeks there were spent watching Janet try and order last-minute safety equipment and create rules that should have been there from the start.

Because I no longer work there, the Ministry of Labour no longer updates me on every development. However, the last email I received from the officer who looked into the case assured me legal action was being taken; especially since other employees had stepped forward and reported injuries that Janet also refused to document.”

0 points (0 votes)

5. Damage My Car? Say Goodbye To Your Home

Maybe, just maybe they’ll think before they do next time.

“I should start by saying that I don’t live in the best area of town. But it wasn’t absolutely awful until the summer began when my next-door neighbor’s teenage kids and their friends had nothing better to do than loiter around all day and be loud and commit petty crimes.

The people below my next-door neighbors had a rock thrown through their window, several neighbors had minor car damage like dents from them sitting on cars or throwing basketballs around and inevitably hitting cars. These tools would bang on peoples’ doors for the fun of it and often sit in a large group clogging up the only stairs up to my apartment and be rude when I would try to step over or around them (they never stood up for a second to let me by).

I should add that two or three families lived next door in a two-bedroom unit, literally at least 12-15 people, WAY over capacity. They also had friends over constantly and would yell and scream and fight with each other all the time–luckily never too late at night though.

Despite all of these nuisances, I never complained about them. Sure, it was obnoxious as heck, but I’m not really a complainer and I wasn’t losing any precious sleep. I’m a pretty easy-going tenant, I pay my rent and bills on time every month, my dog never barks, etc.

Unfortunately for my good neighbors and myself, their crimes escalated in severity. They actually broke into my cool downstairs neighbor’s place–he caught them red-handed trying to steal his stuff. He called the cops and made a police report and everything, but somehow nothing was done.

I suspect it is because he used to be cool with these neighbors and actually looked after and fed some of the kids, so he had a relationship with them, and they had been in his place before. Anyway, them breaking into his place really freaked me out because my downstairs neighbor is a huge, scary-looking guy (but is actually super nice) while I am a 22-year-old girl who lives with two other girls my age.

So, if they would break into HIS place…

I contemplated getting security cameras for my own place after my downstairs neighbor told me what happened to him and showed me his new setup. But unfortunately, before I could, that’s when it happened. Days later when I got up in the morning to go to school, my tire was completely flat.

They slashed my tire. They SLASHED my tire! I was LIVID. I had never done anything to any of them! My tires are good quality tires and were brand new, literally 3 weeks old, and a gift from my dad. I barely had the money to replace my slashed tire.

As most of you probably know, car insurance and tire warranties don’t cover vandalism to tires, so I had to buy the replacement in full. I was so enraged at this point. These losers have been committing crimes, destroying property, and basically getting away with it despite complaints to management and police reports.

I swore to my partner and myself that day that I would see to it that these horrible people would get evicted. I didn’t care how long it took. I knew it was a matter of time before they did something else that would warrant it.

After I filed a police report, I showed my manager the pictures of my clearly slashed tire to file a complaint. He promised if they got one more complaint of property damage, they would be out. I also got that security system I wanted.

Well, the revenge isn’t the most glamorous or exciting revenge. What did I do? I documented, documented, documented everything. Every time they clogged the stairs (which they had been warned about multiple times), every time they were exceptionally loud (which they had been warned about multiple times as well), every time they did anything that would count as a violation that I had overlooked in the past. Nope, screw these people.

Easy-going OP was no more, not for them. My apartment manager actually encouraged me to report them for every little thing, I suspect because he was sick of these jerks too. But I knew before I would send him my compiled report I had to have something good.

Two weeks passed. I hardly saw them around. All quiet on the western front. Until they finally came back, thinking that they had laid low long enough and the heat was off of them. Since the tire-slashing incident, I have been parking at the building across the parking lot, instead of right in front of my own building because that’s where they always used to hang out.

On Sunday I caught one of the jerks sitting on the hood of my car talking to a bunch of the others, but they all ran away before I could yell at them to get off of my car. Upon further inspection, I noticed that there was actually a large, shallow dent on my hood from them repeatedly sitting on my car!

My roommate’s car had a similar dent, and I see them sit on my downstairs neighbor’s friend’s car all of the time. Well today, I decided to park right in front of my apartment where I used to park, in full view of my new security system.

Lo and behold… footage of them sitting and banging on my car! I sent my manager the angriest email I could muster while still maintaining completely respectful language, with the footage attached of course. I told him something MUST be done. I got an email back within minutes thanking me for notifying him and informing me that he would serve them a notice to vacate tomorrow.

They will have 30 days.

Screw with my car? Lose your home!

As I type this while sipping my fresh iced tea, I can hear those craphead kids playing basketball (probably hitting more cars in the process) and shouting and laughing. I can’t help but smile knowing they won’t be laughing for long.”

Another User Comments:

“Please tell me you took that footage to a lawyer to go after their parents in small claims court. Get yourself a new hood. They damaged your property. If the kids are 18 or over, take them. If they’re under 18, take their parents.

It’s the crappy parent’s fault and responsibility to make sure their kids aren’t vandals. That cost is on them.” compuw22c

0 points (0 votes)

4. Take Away My Phone? I'll Make You Cry In Front Of District Officials

“This is a story from my 9th-grade science class, a few friends and I were in the same Science class with this teacher, let’s just call her Mrs. D.

Mrs. D was a horrible teacher with strict, unfair rules, who often would insult students and generally put them down.

Mrs. D had taken my phone twice in the past; she had this strict “I don’t wanna see it” policy about it and would take phones if she saw them.

We were on the light unit, and this day when we came into the room, she gave us these glasses that had little tiny prisms in them, so anything we looked at would be split into the different lights it was made out of.

So we were looking at different neon lights and whatnot through these glasses, and when class got slow and we weren’t doing anything for a while, Friend 1 took out his phone and shined his flashlight into the glasses, and it created a different effect from what all the other lights had.

So, of course, being the ADHD kid I am, I took my phone out and do the same. This is when Mrs. D comes marching over and talking to us about how “we should know the rules” and put our phones away immediately. Now I don’t blame her for telling us to put our phones away, but how she got so mad about a few kids having fun with a science experiment absolutely baffles me.

Anyway, later that same day she told us about how there were 4 assignments that we could turn in or keep. The test was the next day, and she wanted us to study, so I keep them.

The next day, my mom woke me up with an e-mail from Mrs. D.

I’ts essentially this long-winded thing about how disrespectful I was and how I had gasp TEN MISSING ASSIGNMENTS? I knew I didn’t have 10 missing assignments, so I went into skyward to check, and lo and behold, the 4 assignments she told us we didn’t have to submit, were marked as missing.

This put me over the edge. I texted some of my friends asking if they had gotten the emails too, and they did. So we met in our first period, which we also shared and we planned our ultimate revenge. It took $20 out of everybody’s pockets, and we all got a Bluetooth speaker.

We had a few good friends that were in nearby classes during the same hour, and we worked it out with them, and then, the day of reckoning began.

That morning, I got into Mrs. D’s room during the first period when she doesn’t have a class, she left to use the bathroom and I ran in, threw our Bluetooth speakers we had bought into random drawers, and my own speaker under the sink at her front desk (it was a science room so there was a sink by the front desk.) Then, after planting a few bells and whistles around, it was ready.

2nd hour is when I had her class, so there was no chance she’d find anything before we got there. And we were ready.

The hour started and she was having trouble with her projector; it was lit up on the bottom like it was on, but no light was coming out.

This was because I taped over the light with black tape on the inside. She was getting pretty mad about why she couldn’t figure it out, and while she was standing on a chair in the front of the room, the best thing I think could have ever happened did.

4 district officials came into her room. District officials would come by every once in a while and sit in on teachers and sorta just judge their teaching ability.

This made Mrs. D step down from her chair and immediately try a lot harder to be a teacher.

She gives all my friends a “don’t do anything” glare. This is when it starts. A speaker under a desk starts playing the loudest, wettest fart stock sound from under a desk. I know, childish, but the goal was to push her over the edge.

The class immediately explodes in laughter as she angrily stomps over and pulls the speaker out of the drawer it was stuffed in. She doesn’t even know how to turn it off! After fumbling for a good minute, she just takes the batteries out.

She then immediately walks up to my friends and me and checks all of our phones to see if we’re connected to the speaker and we aren’t. This is because Friend 2 is in a separate class next door operating all of our speakers from his laptop!

The district officials don’t seem very happy with Mrs. D right now, and she knows it. A few minutes pass, and the speakers start playing again. This time, it’s worse (again, childish, but it works, and it was a few years ago). This sends her over the edge.

At this point, teachers from other classes are coming in because they hear her screaming. Friend 2 keeps playing things on different speakers, she continues checking phones, and she’s having a meltdown. All of the regular speakers are now gone, and she’s gotten all the sound out of her room, when she finishes the last one, she walks up to her front desk, and in front of the entire class, which is still laughing super hard, she lets out this yell, “OH, SO YOU GUYS THINK THIS IS FUN!?” and ON PERFECT CUE, a voice memo that friend 3 collected, blares out, the memo is of her yelling, “This class isn’t supposed to be fun!” surrounded by other voice clips of her generally putting students down.

She’s calling kids failures, insulting them, calling kids stupid, and just being a generally horrible person. This makes her face a pale white when she hears herself saying this stuff in front of all the district officials. After looking for the speaker for 2 whole minutes, she finally finds it and takes the speaker and just smashes it against the corner of her desk.

She starts crying. We didn’t see Mrs. D for a good few weeks after that, but she did return and a lot nicer too.”

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3. Force Us To Work In Dangerous Conditions? Lose Millions

Hopefully, they learned their lesson about penny-pinching.

“This is the story about how I resigned from my warehouse job once and for all.

The company I used to work for implemented a new way of paying management commissions and bonuses. It was a profit-made, earnings-paid type thing. Every little thing had a bonus attached to it. This month you saved on stationery? Here’s $100. Didn’t spend a dime to repair the store in any way?

Here’s $500.

Normally this wouldn’t affect us, but there were a few categories that were outright dangerous and unfortunately had the biggest bonuses attached to them.

It started with the Manager and Area Manager wanting us to change light panelings in the store.

There were a few problems with this. The lights were so old that the wiring was faulty and unpredictable. The way the lights were rigged would require you to have training as an electrician to remove the panels and replace the bulbs. Management was hoping that we would undertake the work, saving costs on hiring a professional electrician and thus receiving a hefty bonus.

I outright refused, but a few of my off-siders were roped into it. After one particular incident of a worker receiving a mild shock, we all banded together and said “no freaking way.”

A week later, we were emailed a link to a new online training course.

The main theme? Warehouse employees were to undertake various maintenance tasks, and the main one? Changing lights, light panels, etc. If we didn’t complete this training? Then we would be unsuitable employees, not meet our hiring requirements, and could “possibly” be terminated.

I set about taking screenshots of everything, including the mandatory tests.

It became evident very quickly that I was one of the only employees who had refused to complete the training and was confronted by the Area Manager who said I had a week to complete the training or I’d be written up with an official warning.

And because of the severity of the warning could face disciplinary action and possible immediate termination.

Now, what Management didn’t count on was anyone sharing this information with outsiders.

I put together a nice packet, with all the new tests/training that would force warehouse employees to do dangerous tasks, but also copies of the new management bonus structure where it explicitly had categories that detailed if employees could do instore repairs and save the company $$$ they’d receive a hefty bonus.

There was even an award for most money saved.

I also made sure to include the copious amount of emails and texts, showing that Management was violating a lot of health and safety guidelines, especially with the lack of warehouse staff to safely unload/load trucks and shipping containers.

And one of the worst things I found, was around page 36 of our contracts which stated that we weren’t officially covered to unload transfers and trucks, that the company would hire professional contractors to unload and it was up to us to take over once goods were safely unloaded. Why?

Because the company didn’t want to cover us medically if we injured ourselves unloading. And oversight on all our behalves… but shocking nevertheless.

I checked in with my best friend (a lawyer) who helped me navigate any nondisclosure issues and who pointed me in the right direction with sending off this information.

Once I had sent everything off, everything went back to normal for a while. Management kept pressuring me into signing off on undertaking dangerous tasks to make their bonuses and I refused.

It all came to a head when the Area manager essentially said – you don’t sign off on this next shift, I’ll fire you on the spot.

No matter how much I pleaded my case, the AM tried to spin it as a new company wife initiative, and that we should take pride in our workplace. What a load of crap!

I struggled with this a lot and didn’t know what to expect when I got off the bus and made my way to the store the next morning.

When I walked in ready for my next shift, the store was essentially deserted. I opened the warehouse, checked the transfer sheets, and then grabbed my water bottle, and headed into the store to fill it up. As I was standing by the water filter, the customer service manager came downstairs with this cheeky smile on his face.

Apparently, the Manager was under close review and was currently in mediation having to answer for all the bullcrap corners she had cut to make her bonuses. The best bit….the Area Manager and General Manager were both “fired.” Apparently, they were given the choice to resign without any payouts or benefits, or the shareholders and CEO of the company would begin an investigation into these practices.

I couldn’t believe it.

A few hours later, the CEO and CFO arrived and tried to offer me a “bonus” for speaking up, a formal apology, and a raise if I was to drop the case. I just grabbed my bag and resigned right there on the spot.

No way was I dropping anything.

I walked out of there with a sense of satisfaction knowing that they’d be investigated and hopefully taken to task for what they’d tried to force us to do. From what I saw online and on the company’s website, it took a long time for the company to recover.

Even to this day, you can see the company has been bought, and changed hands over and over.

Millions lost. Bad publicity. Public trust and employee trust gone… all to save a few bucks and reward greedy management.”

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2. Can't Stay Faithful? I'll Destroy Your Social Life For The Rest Of High School

“So I (Daryl) grew up in small-town Ohio in a super rural community (like, population 500). In a community this small, most towns share a high school, and mine is no different. I go to a high school of about 400 students, so everyone there knows everybody.

This becomes important later.

School is where I met my future partner Carrie back in 8th grade. At the time, she and Gabe were a steady couple, and they would continue to stay together until midway through our sophomore year of high school when Gabe got busted on a minor charge and was expelled. While he was expelled, he was still able to keep up his friendships with most of the guys from our school, and we helped talk him through his breakup with Carrie.

I know I’m probably the jerk here, but within a few months of Gabe and Carrie’s breakup, Carrie and I hit it off and started seeing each other exclusively at the beginning of our junior year. This drove a bit of a wedge between Gabe and me, as he still wasn’t totally over her.

Carrie and I got to know each other over social media, and after weeks of having Carrie’s best friend Sadie telling us we should be together (almost every waking moment), we eventually did.

We were exclusive for almost eight months. I’m talking eight months of snapping each other “Good morning,” “I love you,” and “Goodnight kisses” every day and talking nonstop all day long at school and over most weekends.

She would become my first kiss, as well as the first person in almost 4 years to open up to about a lot of emotional problems I don’t share with most people. Her parents, brothers, and little sister adored me, and I loved being able to spend time with them too.

But keep in mind, this is a revenge story, so obviously, something went wrong between us. Enter Noah into the story. Noah and I are similarly minded, and we agree on almost everything, so I grew to trust him a lot over the year.

He and I were good friends, although we both ran in different friend groups. He’s a very musical, theatrical kid, and I’m nowhere near as talented as he is in those areas. So when Noah started hanging out with us in early April of that year, I thought nothing of it and was excited to be able to hang out with Noah more outside of school.

Around this time, Carrie stopped talking to me as much as we had before and started hiding things from me. She’d go dark on social media for hours and then tell me she was with Sadie and her other friend Kari, or with her family.

Like an idiot, I took this at face value. I trusted her completely, and she knew it. So when she texted me a few weeks later and told me that Noah asked her to talk to him about some of his anxieties about the Navy, she assured me that it would be a completely civil conversation at a public park.

Neither of us had ever been controlling of the other in any way, and I wasn’t about to start then.

A few days after that, Carrie and Noah both ghosted me. I snapped Carrie that morning and never heard from her again normally. She started ignoring me at school, and I was shocked by this.

However, by this point, it was late May, and we were set to leave for the summer already, at which point I’d be overseas with some church friends for about six weeks. I spent literal DAYS out of my mind with confusion, sadness, and near-hysteria as I tried to piece back together Carrie and my’s relationship that had meant the world to me for nearly a year.

Eventually, Carrie agreed to meet with me, and she told me that she wanted to take a break from seeing each other so that she could focus on spending time with her family (I later learned that this was a steaming pile of bullcrap) before her older brother moved off to Georgia the next fall.

She told me that the next fall, she wanted to give us another try, and she wanted to remain friends with me because she “cared about me.”

I left for the summer with most of my questions unanswered and in a totally foul mood.

I was depressed and sad about what happened back home, and I was more focused on what was happening back home than what was happening in front of my eyes, but when I got a text from Sadie about two weeks later, everything became crystal clear.

Sadie confirmed my suspicions, which Carrie had bluntly assured me were false. For about the entire last half of May, Carrie had been getting romantic with Noah. I wish I could say I took it well, but I didn’t. I was crushed, devastated, and betrayed. But like any good pro-revenge story, that sadness cooled into anger pretty darn fast. That was when I put into motion my grand plan to absolutely decimate Carrie’s last year of high school and her name around the town, All while hundreds of miles removed from the situation.

It turns out, I wasn’t the only one Carrie had lied to and screwed over. Sadie was BEYOND angry at Carrie and told me she had absolutely ZERO interest in ever speaking to Carrie again. This provided me with the first facet of my plan.

Sadie told me all the evidence of what Carrie had lied to me about. First of all, Carrie had told me she was pure. She wasn’t. While Carrie had done a good job of putting on a facade of being a goody-two-shoes church girl, she had actually done some pretty messed up stuff.

I learned that Carrie had gone through a depressed phase where she lost almost all the self-esteem she had, and I knew that if I struck back, I could put her right back in there. Am I a jerk? Probably. Sadie apologized to me for what happened, wished me well, and we kinda lost touch with each other after that.

But I was just getting started.

I told you that Gabe was going to be important later. Turns out that some of the horrible crap Carrie had done was with him while they were together. Apparently, she was pretty heavily into roleplay and had previously participated in group “interactions” with other women.

(Keep in mind, we live in a conservative religious community, but I personally have nothing but respect for the LGBTQ community.) She had told me she was highly committed to keeping her purity and claimed she had an innocent, naive mind. Turns out, Gabe had screenshots of their texts to prove otherwise.

Gabe had been holding these cards for a long time and was waiting for a chance to play them for himself, so he could get his own revenge on Carrie. He just needed to be pointed in the right direction.

That weekend, Gabe went to a party with all the chads in our grade.

A loudmouthed, extremely popular crowd. One of the people attending was Carrie’s cousin. A perfect venue for Gabe to do some show and tell. It worked. Gabe got intoxicated as soon as he got there, passed his phone around, and told everyone who would listen about all the crap he and Carrie had done, including Carrie’s horrified cousin and several boys in the church youth group she was currently a student leader in.

The first nail in the coffin of her reputation had been driven. Most of the good church boys at the party lost interest in her after that, and the others immediately saw her as “easy” and began chasing after her, when they would have dismissed her as a prude mere hours before.

Naturally, them being loudmouths, they spread the word FAST. It wasn’t long before most of the school knew all of this, including that she had an affair on preacher’s kid Daryl Noland.

The second blow was to the sport she loved most and looked forward to for all of high school.

Volleyball. She was SO excited for her senior season, as she, Kari, and Sadie would all be starting that year, and were pumped to make a super close team that was all friends with each other. I saw that as target number two. That night, I started texting Kari.

Our conversation went something like this.

Daryl: Hey Kari, How’s summer?

Kari: OMG Daryl! How’s the overseas trip! Is everything going okay?

Meaningless small talk ensues

Daryl: Listen, can you pray for Carrie? She’s in a bit of a bad place right now, and I just really want her to get better.

Kari: I saw she’s with Noah now. I’m so sorry Daryl, what happened?

Daryl: (Spills everything to her, obviously depressed over text, and appears worried)

Kari: Are you serious? I never thought she’d be the kind of person to do that ever! I can’t believe she’d treat anyone like that!?

Daryl: Me neither, but can you still pray for her and be a good friend? It would mean a lot to her.

Kari: Okay, I can try. Keep in touch Daryl!

That conversation went nuclear. Kari may be a super deep spiritual girl, but she has no patience for the crap Carrie pulled after being two-timed herself the previous year.

Teenage girls are teenage girls, and within the next few weeks, the volleyball team absolutely HATES each other. Sides get taken, feelings get hurt, blah blah blah anyways, they went on to have the first losing season in seven years. Nail number two has been driven.

Carrie had lots of adult friends, which was one reason she and her cousin (remember him), were elected co-class presidents without an election last year. After what her cousin heard about her, he stopped confiding in her, their friendship died utterly, and now they’re stuck together as presidents who can barely talk to each other.

The student council tanked after that, and most of our events for our senior year like homecoming and other events only got half-planned because nobody could cooperate with Carrie anymore.

She blamed me for the entire situation, but because I was overseas, I convinced her I had nothing to do with any of the crap that had hit the fan while I was away.

She bought it, and never spoke to me again. Now, she has exactly zero friends in our entire community after they found out what kind of person she really was, she lost all her credibility with the student body and even some adults who hear gossip among students.

The only boys interested in her now are the local jerks whom she sees as beneath her. (Her mom is super rich, and thus, so is she.) I still see her at school sometimes, sitting at her table in the library with Kari (she’s too nice to abandon Carrie completely) looking sorry for herself as her other former friends now want nothing to do with her.

The icing on the cake, Noah went off to the Navy, came back after it didn’t work out (some health problems that he was unaware of), and promptly dumped her after he lost interest in being with a high schooler. He went on to join a start-up company with another former student and is doing really well for himself these days.

I see him sometimes, and I’m still friends with him. We’ve forgiven each other and moved on from Carrie completely. I guess maybe I shouldn’t have given him the time of day again, but at the end of the day, I don’t really blame him for what happened, and even though he screwed me over, he genuinely apologized for what happened, which Carrie never did.

I’m not one to hold a grudge for that long, and life’s too short to hate either of them forever. I’ve since forgiven both of them, but the damage I did to Carrie’s social life was already done. She changed her college to one far, far away from our town a few weeks ago, and honestly, I’m happy she’ll get a chance to start over.

I’m just glad I never have to see her again.”

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1. Betray My Friend? No More Apartment Or Education For You

“Last year I started hanging out with this really fun group of girls that I met through my master’s program. I was in a really bad place, and these girls embraced me right away.

There were about 5 of us in this girl group, and I loved all of them! Well, I loved all except one. Let’s call her Egotistical Witch (EW). EW was mean. EW was catty. She was the wildest girl in the group. She always wanted to party.

She always showed up late at the University. And she was just so FAKE. EW and I had the same focus in our master’s program, so I, unfortunately, had to spend A LOT of time with her. That “quality time” together made EW feel very comfortable around me, to the point where she thought she could say anything to me.

During that time, she talked so much crap about every other girl we hung out with. I’m talking really mean stuff. She also continually belittled/talked down to me. She questioned my intelligence all the time and always tried to undermine me and make me feel less about myself.

Now, I put up with EW because I loved the other girls and they just could not see how toxic she was. EW also rented a room from one of the girls in my group, let’s call her Dolly. Dolly is the sweetest girl I have ever met.

I have only known her for a year, and she is already like a sister to me. She is the typical southern bell type, with a bubbly personality, and a strong accent, but she would literally give you everything she had if you asked for it.

EW regularly treated Dolly terribly (late on rent, borrowing/ruining her clothes, never cleaning), but Dolly didn’t say anything because she knew EW came from a bad home life and wanted her to feel safe in their apartment (Seriously, Dolly is an angel).

In my program, all the MA students are also Teaching Assistants (TAs) or Research Assistants (RAs). So one day, after submitting all of our student’s midterm grades, our group decided to go out and have a celebratory drink. Dolly, however, did not accompany us because she was going over to her partner’s house.

The rest of us headed to the Irish Pub right off campus. We all had either class ourselves or were teaching the next day, so most of us don’t drink that much (my University has a really strict attendance policy even for MA students so we were pretty careful).

Except for EW. She gets wasted. Like–face on sideways, rip-roaring wasted. This was not unusual. EW was known for getting super wasted all the time, but she’d really been struggling with managing her TA’ing and her own classes, so she went for it EXTRA hard.

Two hours after we got there the rest of us had one, maybe two, drinks and ate to help us stay sober. EW, on the other hand, could barely stand. Unfortunately, I lived in the same complex as EW, and since Dolly wasn’t there, I had to take her wasted butt home.

On the way home, EW starts talking. About Dolly. This bratsicle was so intoxicated that she had NO filter. EW starts saying that Dolly is a dumb-inbred-southern-bimbo and the only reason that our faculty advisor liked Dolly so much was that she has a big chest. She also let it slip that she had been texting Dolly’s man and intended on getting with him.

Apparently, they had been sending pictures for some time, and he’d even been texting EW while Dolly was over at his house THAT NIGHT. After telling me ALL of this, she promptly fell asleep in my passenger seat.

At this point, I am in shock.

But I know I can’t let this stand. You can screw with me, but don’t screw with my friends.

My first reaction was to kick EW out of my car, but I thought better of it (We live in a pretty big city known for human trafficking crime, and I may hate the girl, but I don’t want her dead/physically hurt).

Instead, I dropped her off at her apartment, tucked her into bed, and grabbed her phone. Using her thumb to unlock her phone, I first found all of the messages between EW and Dolly’s man. I took screenshots and sent them to myself, deleting the screenshots/message to myself after.

Then I turned off EW’s alarm for the next day. As I mentioned, my university is very strict about the attendance of their students, and I knew for a fact that EW already had at least two warnings regarding missed/late classes.

The next day EW didn’t show up to the lab she taught as a TA.

She called in midway through the day and said she had the flu, but unfortunately for her, an anonymous file was sent to our faculty advisor showing a video of her doing Irish Car Bombs the night before. The file also came with a short note explaining that the last couple of times EW had called in she’d been hungover/lying as well.

The same day I showed Dolly the messages between EW and Dolly’s now ex. Dolly freaked out. I had never seen someone so mild-mannered lose their crap before, but Dolly snapped. She then told me that EW was two months late on rent and this was the last straw.

Dolly went home that night and told EW she had a week to get the heck out of her apartment and pay Dolly what she owed. When EW said I was a liar and making crap up to come between them, Dolly showed EW the messages.

According to Dolly, the witch went silent. What more could she say?

Within the next two weeks, EW was crashing on some friend’s couch, and she was placed on academic suspension. Apparently, her grades sucked as much as her personality. That combined with her lying/attendance problems caused the University to pull her funding.

I still have to see her, but she now knows better than to talk to me or anyone in our group (we pretty much all cut her out of our lives).

Sometimes I feel like I went too far, but then I remember how smug her intoxicated butt looked telling me she was going to steal my best friend’s man… and I feel much better.”

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