People Recall Their Historic Revenge Stories

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When an act of revenge is spot on, the line between good and bad becomes blurred. You might feel hurt, but then you go ahead and do it anyway to get payback. It might feel bad to get payback, but then it feels oh-so-good to get them back. That's the back and forth of revenge, isn't it? It feels good to be bad! That's probably why these people consider their winning moments of revenge pretty historic! Read on for some gold.

14. He Tried To Make Me Pay $2000 Of Fees But The Tables Turned

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“So, when I was in college, I bought an old 1974 Mercury Comet with the intent of fixing it up because I loved older cars. However, due to being a broke college kid, I eventually realized that I bit off more than I could chew, and started looking to sell the car.

My apartment had one street where everybody could park if they didn’t pay extra for a private parking space, and I couldn’t afford to have a private spot, so this is where I parked. Since the street was a public street, they had a rule where you couldn’t leave your car parked in the same spot for more than 72 hours, or else the car was technically abandoned, and they had the right to tow it.

Now I had problems with this rule since I had gotten the car. Most of the time, this rule is pretty much ignored, as everyone parking here either lives in the apartment complex or they were parked there because it was the closet free parking area to my university, and all the cars just blend in with each other. The problem with my car was that it stuck out like a sore thumb being from 1974 and, admittingly, looked like it couldn’t even start.

So I had gotten a decent amount of fines and tickets from them but was always able to contest and win because I could prove I lived on the street and I always made sure I moved it to the other side of the street every 2-3 days so they legally couldn’t tow it. Safe to say, every time the cars on my street were checked, they kept an eye out for mine to give some random reason as to why they could ticket or fine me.

They really didn’t like me. Fast forward to selling my car.

It took a while to find somebody to sell the car to, but after a couple of months, I finally found a buyer. He was a little older than me, but not by much. I was only getting $1500, which sucked because I paid closer to $2500 for the car, but thought I got my money’s worth of driving around and was just glad to get something for it.

He told me he couldn’t pay all at once, and ‘wanted to know if we could do a payment plan for the car’, which I agreed to because I just wanted the car gone, and so I wrote up a contract with everything detailing the sale in it, which he signed, I signed, and a witness (his friend who happened to come to help him with the car) also signed. I got $500 in cash and then a few days later, the car was gone, so that was the end of it…or so I thought.

Fast forward a few weeks later and I got a letter about the car. The car had been towed and was still in my name (because I completely forgot to do a title transfer when I sold the car) and had how much I owed at the bottom for the storage in the tow yard. ALMOST $2000. I checked the timestamp it was towed and it had been towed a couple of days after I made the sale, because the buyer NEVER TOOK THE CAR??

What also confused me was that it had been weeks and the buyer never said anything to me asking about the car and where it was.

So I messaged him and tried to call him letting him know what happened. He didn’t get back to me until 6 days later, asking where it got towed to, and if the car was still there. I gave him the information and he called the company to ask how much the total cost for the car was now.

It had gone well over $3000 now. I then get a short message back that says ‘Yeah bro it’s too much it’s already at over $3000 I’d rather just get my $500 back’ …I’m sorry, what???

I get a hold of him and basically tell him he’s not getting his money back and that this is on him, he shouldn’t have left the car there for days, which I warned him about before he bought the car.

He proceeds to tell me, ‘Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way’, to which I tell him he’s not getting his money back and he needs to pay the towing company to get the car back. He immediately hangs up, and sends me a message that says ‘I’ll see you soon.’

I, a 20-year-old college student who has never dealt with anything regarding the law, am now freaking out because the new buyer basically said ‘Screw you!’ while I’m sitting here with an ever-increasing bill of over 3000 dollars in my name.

Then I remember something; the signed contract that 3 people signed.

So I find the contract in a folder in my closet and immediately take pictures of it, just in case I’d need them, and then call the towing company to explain everything. The guy is super nice and at first, tells me I might be completely screwed as I never sent in a title transfer to the DMV.

However, once I bring up the contract, he says ‘Oh, you have a signed contract from before the car was towed? That’s great, you should be fine as long as you send a title transfer indicating the sale time with the contract as proving to the DMV.’ I found out you can do one completely online, and once I sent it in, I didn’t get any more messages from the towing company.

However, I did end up calling the towing company a few weeks later to make sure I was in the clear, and what he told me was glorious.

So the buyer didn’t pick up the car for a while, so it continued to accrue more and more in fees until it reached over $4000. But that’s not the best part. The best part was him telling me that after a certain amount of days, the car gets auctioned off if it hasn’t been picked up, AND the owner of the car still has to pay all of the fees for the car for storage.

By the time the guy who tried screwing me $2000 finally called to pick up his car, the towing company made sure to get all his information (name, address, etc.) first, and then let him know that the car was already auctioned off, and then slapped him with around $4500 in storage and towing fees. I couldn’t be happier!”

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13. Neighbors Can't Handle A Halloween Joke

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PART 2

“Kevin was very friendly when we first moved in. Kevin is 72 years young and is a retired Air Force logistician. Kevin is also so morbidly obese his scale likely reads seven-digit phone numbers.

Kevin has already undergone two bypass surgeries but continues to thrive on Chick-fil-A and other healthy fast food options. I am not a medical professional, but I assume the doctors bypassed his brain, and now Kevin uses the intellectual capacity of his loser to make critical decisions.

You know what? I am sick of going back and editing Kevin’s name. I continue to type ‘Ken’ because his name is Ken.

Protecting his identity is not my concern, and I would be more than happy if he accidentally stumbled upon this story and realized I can be passive-aggressive as well.

Ken is the quintessential ‘Rules Guy’. I live in a golf course community and the Home Owners Association (HOA) was more akin to the Third Reich. I quickly found out that Ken would notify the HOA of every unintentional infraction.

Unfortunately, Ken was unaware that I have been gifted with a humorous touch. Susan, the HOA Princess, was very stern during our initial conversations, but now she occasionally calls when ‘she needs a laugh.’ I submitted a stunning plan to build a ‘Hanging Herb Garden’ and the HOA loved it so much they jokingly suggest I build five. One for each member of the Board.

I did, and I only charged them for the cost of supplies. The HOA is in my pocket, and Ken is now jealous that I am the ‘Golden Child’ and can do no wrong. The cake is my progeny for a reason, people!

The thing that bothers me most about Ken is his passive-aggressiveness. Ken is at the beck-and-call of Karen, but Ken immediately turns into a fleeing coward when the decibel level of the conversation becomes hostile.

My apologies Ken, I typically lose my patience when you openly call my children ‘heathens’ and video record them while they play in my yard.

Karen is a jerk, and it was evident from our very first interaction. Ken called her name so he could introduce us when I first arrived. She was gardening, and screamed, ‘I don’t like meeting people without my makeup.’ She quite literally looks like Carole Baskin, and no amount of makeup can rectify that mess.

Her face has was clearly on the losing end of a bag of hot nickels.

Karen is the master of chaos, and she thoroughly enjoys terrorizing Cake (my son) when my wife and I are not around. Despite being unethical and immoral, Karen legally videotaped my children playing outside, on my property. The video recording has subsided because she cares deeply about her tree, but she is still a jerk.

Simply, I hate her.

My wife, Cake, and I arrived home from travel soccer on Saturday afternoon. I see Ken watching Karen planting three bushes on the front of their property. No worries, right? Despite being a bio-terrorist, Cake is also too smart for his own wellbeing.

Cake: (Laughing) She is blocking the bike jump.

Wife: What?

Cake: I used to jump my bike off the curb and into the street.

I didn’t go on their property though.

OP: Really?

Cake: Yes! I did it yesterday, and now she is blocking it with bushes.

OP: What a…

Cake: Dad. Can I say it?

OP: (Why Not?) Sure.

Cake: Karen is being a real JERK!

I am not opposed to a verbal altercation, but I had college football to watch, and I didn’t have time for petty games.

Karen’s butt was in the air and working on the final bush when she heard my 4Runner door slam closed. I was in the process of removing the soccer gear from the truck when I was passive-aggressively prodded.

Karen: This will stop that little idiot from jumping.

I knew it was directed at me. She could have uttered it mentally, but she opted to say it loud enough for all of us to hear.

My wife rolled her eyes, but I was suddenly in the mood to play petty games now.

OP: Excuse me?

Karen scowled at me. I stared deep into the abyss of her angry eyes, and could clearly see that she lacked civil decency and a soul.

Karen: What do you want?

OP: I am curious about your comment, and wondering who the ‘little idiot’ is?

Karen: Your son. He was jumping his bike off the curb and coming close to our property.

I was now annoyed. Words have meanings. Word choice is very, very important in my profession. Word choice can be a matter of legal versus illegal, or subject me to a very hostile audience. I can see that some of you are still in the passenger seat, but the look in your eyes tells me you have no clue where we are going.

See below for an example. If you are still blissfully lost after this, I kindly ask you to exit the vehicle.

Post Mission Brief Statement: I Tactically Questioned Johnny Jihad and learned that ISIS fighters wear Kitty undergarments and use Velcro gloves to enhance control during operations.

Department of Defense (DoD) Interpretation: Sloppy asked a terrorist some question, and now we know ISIS fighters wear girly undergarments and sheep.

Department of State (DoS) Interpretation: Sloppy tortured and waterboarded John, criticized their choice of undergarments, and has issues with their sincere love of animals.

Okay, the DoS statement may be a bit embellished, but ‘Tactical Questioning’ has a very different meaning for them. I don’t ever say TQ when I am briefing DoS officials at a U.S. Embassy. I simply change TQ to ‘interview’ and everyone is happy.

See? Words have meanings.

Back to Karen, that jerk said ‘close to our property.’ The Cake didn’t actually go on her property, he flew over it. Furthermore, we are talking about less than a foot of the property. This bothered Karen enough that she decided to block an eleven-year-old boy, from jumping his bike off my curb, and into the street. That is a coldhearted jerk move.

Again, I was suddenly in the mood to play my favorite game, messy-mess games.

OP: So, he didn’t go on your property?

Karen was about to summon her inner jerk and go full-on to Carole Baskin.

Karen: NO. I SAID CLOSE TO MY PROPERTY. I DON’T LIKE IT THOUGH, AND IF YOU CAN’T CONTROL HIM, I WILL BLOCK HIS PATH.

OP: That is such a jerk move.

I didn’t directly call her a jerk, but I insinuated that she was, in fact, a jerk. I knew I was about to awaken the sleeping demon, and I did. Karen screamed back.

Karen: Ken. KEN. HE JUST CALLED ME A JERK!

Ken: Did you just call my wife a jerk?

OP: Ken! You were standing right there. I said it was a ‘jerk move.’ I didn’t call your wife a jerk.

Ken: Oh. So you didn’t call her a jerk then?

OP: (Huge Smirk) I mean, I think we both know the answer to that already, but NO, I didn’t call her a jerk.

I then walked my happy self into the garage to formulate my revenge. Her precious tree, looking like a tree, is a great concern of Karen’s. However, that is my ace-in-the-hole. Cutting one-third of her tree lacked proportionality.

My revenge had to be smaller in scale, cowardly passive-aggressive, and befitting of the situation.

Dear Reader, my brain is fantastical. I ‘stewed’ on my revenge for exactly zero seconds. I had superbly analyzed the placement of her huge butt as she planted the third bush that blocked Cake’s Evil Knievel jump. Again, it took zero seconds to ponder my revenge. I simply told the wife that I needed to run an errand and that I would be back in thirty minutes.

My adventure took me near Home Depot. I spend a considerable amount of time there, which made me fully aware of the nearby Spirt Halloween store. It was the location that would assist me in my joyously crafted revenge.

Spirit Halloween Shopping List

Full-size skeleton x 1

Baby-sized skeleton x 3

I was in-and-out of Spirit Halloween in less than five minutes, but my mission was not fully complete.

I need to battle the Zombies at Walmart as well. I spoke with Ed, the door greater, and happily made my way to the Old Lady Clothes department. JC Penny and Burlington Coat Factory are too classy for Karen; she is the People of Walmart. I was not certain I would find the exact outfit she was wearing while she deviously blocks Cake’s ramp, but I would come close.

Walmart Shopping List

Blue Pants

White floral print shirt

Pink Granny-sized/’Period’ undergarments.

Sadly, I didn’t have time for ‘people watching’ at Walmart. I was on a mission people, and I had college football to watch. I returned home and grabbed my tools. I had some gardening to do. I was about to co-garden with Karen. Maybe this would be the first step in breaking down the Berlin Wall?

Ken is always at her beck-and-call, but his face dreams of living in West Germany. The wife looked on from the garage. She was watching the adult version of Cake. She had no clue what I was doing, but she knew she needed to intervene before Law Enforcement or Emergency Services were dispatched. I don’t know why the wife was on edge, I was clearly about to garden.

Seriously, what kind of trouble could I get in while gardening?

I dragged my bucket of garden tools and three skeletons out to the front yard. Cake’s ramp was already blocked, so I wasn’t doing any more harm. I dug three holes that symmetrically mirrored Karen’s bushes and then planted the three baby-sized skeletons waste deep in the ground. I then immediately learned that Karen likes to garden alone.

Karen: Just what do you think you are doing?

OP: (Smile) Gardening ma’am.

Karen: Those are NOT PLANTS!

OP: You are very observant!!!

Ken: You can’t do that without HOA approval.

OP: (Looks up slowly and gazes eye-to-eye) Yeah? How about you KISS. MY. BUTT!

I had just raised my voice. It was like shining light on a roach. Ken scurried away into the house.

Karen proceeded to berate my gardening capabilities. I am, by no means, an advanced gardener. I just recently learned to look at the ‘Full Sun, Shade…’ labels on the plants I purchase. Karen is a professional gardener, but she refused to offer any advice. She was acting like a total jerk again.

Karen: This is just a mockery. You are white trash. JUST. TRASH.

OP: How much water do you think these need?

Finally! Karen ran into the house. I was not done with my floral-skeleton masterpiece, and the wife was still exactly what I was doing. I was also still in question about how much water the skeletons would need, but I could Google that later.

Wife: What are you doing babe? Are you trying to annoy them?

OP: YES.

Wife: You know Ken went inside to call the HOA right?

OP: YES.

Wife: And you know they are going to come right?

OP: YES. I am POSITIVE they are going to come.

Wife: Oh God! What did you do?

OP: I called Susan (HOA Princess) while I was shopping and informed her of my plan.

Wife: What did she say?

OP: That I’m a jerk and she can’t wait to see it when I am done.

Wife: What’s ‘it’?

OP: You’ll see babe! You’ll see!

I had filled the dirt around my three skeletons and it was now time for the centerpiece, the coup de grace. I walked to the back of the 4Runner and open the door. My wife was now staring at the skeletal replica of Karen. It was wearing a lovely floral printed shirt, blue pants, and a pink panty wedgie that stretched up to its T-12 vertebra.

Wife: OH. MY. GOD. That looks EXACTLY like her.

OP: I KNOW!!!

I then position skeletal-Karen exactly the way I saw her when I first arrived home. The ass butt in the air, and she even had a small spade shovel adhered to her hand. The wife was not impressed, but also totally impressed. I had just finished positioning skeletal Karen in the ground when the HOA truck arrived. Skeletal-Karen was clearly obvious and pointing right at Karen’s house.

The amber flashing lights of the HOA truck indicated the ‘All Clear’ for Ken and Karen to exit their house.

Karen: HE CANNOT HAVE THAT. IT IS A COMPLETE MOCKERY, AND HE NEEDS HOA APPROVAL TO PLANT ANYTHING.

Susan: (Smiling at me) Oh, I’m sorry. The call was about ‘landscaping.’ This does not qualify. If you read Chapter Four, Section Ten about ‘lies and communist propaganda’ it clearly states the homeowner can decorate thirty days before Halloween and has fourteen business days after Halloween to remove all season decorations.

Karen: You’re telling me I have to stare at this until the middle of November? This is insane.

Susan: They are Halloween decorations.

Karen: (Scowls at Sloppy) I will be out here celebrating when I watch you take them down.

I know she will celebrate the day I have to take down my decorations. I also know the HOA will give me a Nasty Gram if I fail to comply.

BUT…

OP: Susan?

Susan: (Devious Smile) Yes Sloppy?

OP: I am perfectly allowed to decorate for Thanksgiving though, right? For example, what happens if I replace the skeletons with pumpkins, and turn the larger skeleton into a pilgrim?

Susan: (Smile) Perfectly acceptable!

OP: (Giddy with excitement) Then I can change them into elves, and have a gardening Mrs. Claus?

Susan: There are no rules against it.

OP: (Turns to Karen) I LOVE gardening!

Karen: THIS IS JUST RIDICULOUS. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. NOT RIGHT AT ALL.

Both Ken and Karen retreated into their house. I didn’t get to visibly watch their faces, but I could feel their disappointment when Susan came to my garage Man-Cave to share a beer and discuss how much we both equally hate them. I will continue to play the long-game, and keep the tree trimming as my final option.

I have other hobbies that I sincerely enjoy, but I always make time for messy-mess. It is a game that never gets old to me, and I can’t wait to send a ‘Get Well Soon card to their house when one of them passes away. It’s a bit much, I know, but they are truly evil people. Berating an eleven year Cake is simply unacceptable, and she seeks that opportunity when he is playing alone.

Oh, well. I was initially disheartened when I slowly learned I had horrible neighbors. The glass half full? It really helps to keep my messy-mess game up to par.”

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Felisha20256 2 years ago
Did she got permission to plant her trees?
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12. Let Your Kids Run Wild? Then Buy Shoes For Them

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“In the late 90s, I worked for a major retail store that was well known for its ‘Open, Open, Open’ commercials. I was hired for seasonal work and quickly learned how to run every department and quickly was working solo in many of the departments.

Well the particular day in question, I was assigned to their shoe department. It was 20 minutes to closing and the customer walks in with 4 kids all under the age of 5.

I had just finished cleaning up the department and when she just left her kids to run wild while she looked for shoes in peace. I was seeing red.

Her kids are in tattered shoes and their outfits aren’t much better while Over Entitled Mom is in really nice clothing and is wearing what I knew to be a $200 pair of shoes. Also, there is no way I’m staying late to clean up after her kids.

I was a nanny to large families and foster families before moving to the state I currently live in so I’m really good with kids. To top it off, at the time I’m 19 years old, and well I’m an extremely sarcastic, petty person. Cue my revenge.

I go gather the kids as soon as she’s out of sight and in my sweetest nanny’s way ask them if they want new shoes today?

All 4 kids’ eyes light up and they are so excited that the nice lady said they get new shoes. Well, I measure their feet and take them over to where the children’s shoes are. I let them pick shoes they want and not only make sure they fit but put the pairs of shoes on the kids.

As she stayed after closing we had closed the metal doors to the mall so she’s locked inside the store.

She comes out with a $90 pair of shoes for her to see her kids all smiling holding shoe boxes and wearing shoes.

Over Entitled Mom starts telling the kids they didn’t come to get ‘them’ shoes but that mommy needed new shoes. Cue the kids starting to bawl. The manager comes and the Over Entitled Mom starts getting uppity about how I needed to be fired for watching her kids while she ignored them and helping them find new shoes.

The manager takes the shoeboxes from the kids and looks at their old shoes and then looks at Over Entitled Mom with a are you serious look on her face. She says well I’ve been watching security footage and noticed you left the kids without supervision as soon as you entered the store. Then she asks Over Entitled Mom if she would like to purchase the kid’s new shoes or if she would like us to call CPS and report her for negligence as we have all the proof needed to have her kids taken by CPS.

Over Entitled Mom turns red and throws the shoes she was going to buy back towards the women’s department and curtly told me to ring the kid’s shoes up.

She paid and stormed out (without a receipt… so no returns) with the kids who are all super happy that they got new shoes.

The next part I found out later when I ran into the manager shopping.

Over Entitled Mom came back to the store several months later. Apparently, the manager couldn’t get the situation off her mind and she called CPS on Over Entitled Mom. Over Entitled Mom had paid with a check so the manager had Over Entitled Mom’s name and address and asked for a wellness check on the kids. CPS in the end took the kids. Over Entitled Mom returned to the store to confront me for her losing her ‘meal ticket’ as she lost her welfare checks when she lost the kids.

Apparently, she caused such a scene that the police were called. Over Entitled Mom was arrested, permanently lost the kids, and the manager was in the process of trying to adopt all 4 kids when we spoke last.

I lost contact with the manager after the store closed. The mall was torn down and a much nicer commerce/residential open-air mall was rebuilt. The company closed the chain store down and now only has the cheaper store associated with red circles that the manager didn’t go work for.”

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CCR123 2 years ago
I worked at a store that had layaway for their jewelry department if someone came in with their kids like that. I'd write up whatever they wanted to put on layaway and then "lose" their ticket
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11. On A Non-Stop War With Annoying Neighbors

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PART 1

“My toddler has evolved into a min-human, and my mini-human is now in an adult male body which is, unfortunately, still outfitted with a teenage brain. Don’t worry though, he knows everything! I myself have a late-30s model body, but my teenage brain is coming along well.

That said, my loving wife is still able to maintain her sanity with 2.5 boys and .5 male adults in the house. However, the house was too small and we needed more legroom. We decided to move on up!

The new house is everything we wanted. There is ample room for the growing family. The boys would conquer the upstairs, and even have their own bathroom to grow ‘science experiments.’ They occasionally fail to brush their teeth but you can most certainly count on them to pee in/on everything except the toilet.

Cake, my 11YO mini-human, shares my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and keeps his room in working order. Kelly, my 15YO Man-Child genius? Well, just don’t touch that sock under his bed. Typical boy-thing, I suppose.

My wife and I now had a backyard. We had a two-car garage to store her Christmas and Halloween decorations. The neighborhood is gorgeous, and I can literally walk to the clubhouse and play a round of golf.

The cul-de-sac we live on is dominated by currently serving or retired military families. Everyone was extremely welcoming at the Home Owners Association (HOA), and the neighbors were all friendly. Well, at least for the moment!

I have read about neighbor horror stories. I have seen them on television. I never in a million years thought I would live next to ‘them’. I am a firearm fighter by trade.

Believe it or not, I don’t like war. I like my job, but I don’t enjoy the carnage of war. I am a realist though. I would totally cast my ballot for World Peace, but I know it only takes one jerk to ruin it for everyone. My immediate neighbors became those jerks.

Enter the Entitled Parents: Kevin and Karen. They seemed nice at first. They were both really helpful, especially Kevin.

Kevin had served in the Air Force, and Karen was a stay-at-home mother. They enlightened me regarding the neighborhood, the quality of the area schools, and told me the tips and tricks to avoid any hassle with the HOA. Great, right?

The onset of 2020 forced the school district to cancel the remainder of the school year so the boys didn’t turn into zombies. However, the mass hysteria allowed my humanoids to become semi-professional Fortnite gamers, who smelled like ball-funk and survived on soda and Zebra Cakes.

They were quickly becoming chubby-bunnies. I, being neighborly, informed Kevin and Karen that I would be in the market for a portable basketball hoop to combat childhood obesity and Type II Diabetes.

Side Note: I remember something. It can be quite literally a matter of life or death in my occupation so I remember things vividly!

OP: Pleasantries, some other words, ‘I am thinking about getting a basketball hoop for the boys.’

Karen: That’s great. It’s so good to have young children in the neighborhood again.

Kevin: You know you can’t put it in the street right? It is against HOA rules. (Kevin is a rules guy!)

OP: Well-aware. I will be putting it on the back pad.

Karen: That’s great. If the ball ever goes over the fence just tell them to come to get it.

Awesome! It was a positive interaction, and they had no issue. Onward to Walmart!

My children are well-behaved. They may act like little jerks to each other and inside the house, but they are both kind and courteous to others. Despite Karen’s instructions, I told them to knock on the door if the ball ever goes over the fence. So they did.

My Door: Knock.

Knock. Knock.

OP: Hey Kevin. How can I help you?

Kevin: (Annoyed) The ball went over the fence.

OP: Did the boys knock and ask to get it?

Kevin: Yes. I just wanted to let you know.

I spoke to my wife afterward. ‘That was odd,’ was all I could think. Is the guy going to let me know each time the ball goes over the fence?

Maybe I should knock on his door? ‘Hey, Kevin. Just wanted to let you know that your car is parked in the driveway.’ This process quickly became a routine for Kevin; Kevin became a self-licking ice cream cone. Kevin came over six times over the course of about three months. My wife began keeping tallies because it was odd and, but somewhat comical. Then things started to get real.

The cake came running in the house scared. He had tears in his eyes, and he was continually reiterating, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’ Nobody has accused me of being ‘World’s Best Dad’ so I was wondering if he did in fact do something wrong. I forgo waterboarding Cake, this time, and ask what he is talking about. Cake stated, ‘Karen is recording me.’ What?

I look outside and sure-as-ever, I see Karen, at the fence, and pointing her cellphone at me as if it was a loaded firearm. I think, ‘oh, well’ because I know my wife is going to lose her mind. She did!

My wife is dainty, but she quickly turned into a 4’11 Muhammad Ali. Man, it took every ounce of verbal reasoning for me to stop her from physically rearranging Karen’s face-meat.

In addition to remembering things for work, I have to be well-read regarding the laws that govern me as an American, and the local’s laws. I knew Karen’s tactic to scare and record Cake was immoral and unethical, but it was perfectly legal. This didn’t sit well with my wife though. I reminded the wife that I have a doctorate in revenge from Jerky University (JU), and this would not go unanswered. I can be a jerk too, but I am a methodical jerk.

I did my best to erect makeshift barriers as a temporary solution. It was not perfect, but at least it showed that we were doing everything in our power to prevent balls from going over the fence. I also submitted plans for a permanent structure to the HOA. I was going to build a hanging herb garden wall, but it required approval before construction could start.

The typical approval timeline was two weeks, but in addition to that, the years also messed with the approval process. I was in limbo. Tragically, another basketball fell victim to senseless violence. It was the ninth basketball in approximately eight months. The kids were terrified to ask for their basketball back, and it wasn’t even worth the hassle anymore. That didn’t stop Kevin though.

Knock.

Knock. Knock.

Ken: OP HOME?

Wife: Yes, but he injured his back. How can I help you?

Ken: Get OP please. (I should mention that Kevin is outwardly discriminatory and is not a fan of ‘coloreds’.)

Wife: Kevin, OP, can’t even walk right now. How can I help you?

Ken: The basketball went over the fence again. It needs to stop. They need to stop playing basketball.

(He was now telling my wife how to parent. Good luck buddy!)

Wife: I am sorry the ball went over the fence. We continue to tell the children to be careful, but I am not going to tell them they can’t play basketball in their own yard.

Ken: You’ll tell your boys to stop playing. If the ball comes over the fence again. We are calling the cops!

Tell your boys to stay out of our yard. They’re trespassing!

Wife: If you want to call the cops then you go ahead and do it. However, the boys DO NOT go in your yard at all anymore.

I was losing my mind in the bedroom. I could hear the conversation, but I physically could not make the front door. I managed to slide off the bed and began my Army crawl to the door, but I was late.

My wife was fuming and I was annoyed, and pathetically crawling on the floor. Yay back injuries! We had no intention of starting a war, but the boys were doing nothing wrong. We had informed Kevin we were getting a hoop, and they had zero issues with it. What was going on?

The cops are called! The OP CITY Police Department (PD) sent two cruisers.

The children maybe 11 and 15, but all be darned if they don’t go down without a fight. One cruiser was not going to suffice, you’d better send two for my miscreants. I just sat in my garage man-cave and watch it all play out. The cops go to the neighbor’s house first. They are there for more than an hour and I can only assume we are being painted as horrible neighbors.

Oh well! It is now pitch dark outside and I was startled by the time an officer approaches.

Officer John Kimble: Hey? Sir!

OP: Oh god! You scared me!

Officer Kimble: Sorry, Hi, I am Officer Kimble with OP CITY PD. How are you doing this evening?

OP: Typically I would say fine, but I don’t typically have a cop in my garage.

Officer Kimble: I understand.

The reason we are here is that the neighbors called about trespassing. Now, they said nobody went in their yard today, but they want you to understand they will press charges next time.

I was baffled. I did my best to maintain my composure, but I am certain my face was screaming, ‘Are you serious?’ Officer Kimble then pointed at his body camera and mouthed, ‘Recording,’ and then gave me a ‘thumbs up’ gesture.

I immediately seized the opportunity to mess with him. Sorry, it’s in my nature.

OP: Do you want another drink? You can’t just drink one!

Officer Kimble: (Laughing) WHAT? I didn’t have a drink with you.

OP: (Laughing as well.) I’m kidding, and we are fully aware of their intent to press charges. I will be sure to do my best to prepare my boys for the rigors of prison life too.

I think jail will be good for them too; may even toughen them up a bit!

Officer Kimble: (Laughing) Okay Sir. I just want to ensure that you are aware. Ideally, we would like to see neighbors talk things like this out, and not call the cops. Unfortunately, this is what it’s come to. I just want to ensure you are aware.

OP: Tracking!

Officer Kimble: You have a good evening Sir.

OP: Thanks.

Officer Kimble then walked back to his patrol car. He didn’t leave though. I assume he was just finishing mundane paperwork, but he was there for at least 20-minutes. Then, much to my surprise, he returned and was a completely different Officer.

Officer Kimble: Hey man!

OP: Back for that drink?

Officer Kimble: (Laughing) NO! Sorry man! I have to play the game for the body cam.

OP: I hear you. I occasionally wear one at work, but it only cuts back on my cursing. People still get shot!

Officer Kimble: You Army?

OP: Yup!

Officer Kimble: Cool. What do you do?

OP: Shoot fist, shoot often, and have my story straight before the cops arrive!

Officer Kimble: (Laughing ) I figure as much after looking at all your stuff here. I just wanted to talk to you without the camera.

They really seem eager to press chargers if your children are caught in their yard.

OP: (Laughing.) My wife and I have concluded that.

Officer Kimble: That lady is really crazy. My God! She demanded we arrest your children tonight!

OP: Tonight?

Officer Kimble: Yes! She said they trespassed before, and she wanted to press charges now.

OP: (More laughing.) I am sorry you have to deal with this brother.

I really am. I can ensure you that they have never gone in their yard without permission. Not once. They are terrified of her. She taunts them from the other side of the fence and records them. Seriously, they are scared of her. We now chalk the balls up as a loss.

Officer Kimble: I believe you. There is something not right with that lady.

She said the basketball wakes her son up, and she will not hesitate to press charges. I told her we would do our duty, but I don’t think the magistrate will not view the situation kindly if we arrest two children for playing basketball. She clearly does not care though. I just wanted to chat with you and without the body cam. I can’t exactly call her crazy while it is running.

Officer John Kimble stayed for another hour. He was impressed with the collection of war memorabilia and the setup of my garage man-cave. He was specifically intrigued with my Nintendo and working copy of Mike Tyson Punch-Out, among other classics. Yes, it’s certainly cool, but it has little to do with the story.

My wife was mowing the grass, and I was currently doing something I never thought would be a priority of mine; planting a new flowerbed. Kevin and Karen had just returned from another Chick-fil-A run.

Then the unthinkable happened. Kevin exited the car and immediately approached me, and he was angry.

Kevin: Your boys went into my yard and got a ball today. They may think we didn’t notice, but we did. You need to tell those boys to stay out of my yard or…

OP: Wait a minute! I don’t tolerate people who lie or steal, and you are lying right now.

Kevin: Your boys were…

OP: We were at an all-day soccer tournament in DIFFERENT STATE. We have only been home for a couple of hours. They have not played any basketball since we have been home. You’re lying!

Kevin: Well, we are sick of them getting balls from our yard without permission.

OP: Look, Kevin, I get it! However, you fail to recall when your wife said the boys were more than welcome to go in the yard and…

I didn’t even get to finish when I heard the screech of Karen. I know my writing style is ‘different’ to say the least. I wish I was better. I do not have the words to accurately articulate the sound Karen made, but I will do my best. It was like the Tyrannosaurus from Jurassic Park making love to a nuclear explosion during a tornado, but way louder.

The only thing that honestly makes this worse, and I kid you not, is that she is a dead ringer for Carole Baskin (Tiger King.) Not ‘maybe a little,’ but more ‘OMG Carole Baskin is your neighbor’ type of resemblance.

Karen: I NEVER SAID THAT. I WOULD NEVER SAY THAT.

She screamed at the top of her lungs a mere inches from my face.

I could smell the Meow Mix bellow from here scream-factory. Meanwhile, Kevin pulled a Houdini and vanished. Kevin is a passive-aggressive jerk and confrontation scares him off.

OP: Yes. You did.

Karen: I NEVER SAID THAT. YOU’RE WRONG.

OP: Whatever. It’s not even worth it.

Karen: I AM SO SICK OF YOUR HEATHENS GOING IN MY YARD. YOUR HEATHENS BETTER NOT GO IN MY YARD AGAIN OR I WILL HAVE THEM ARRESTED. I KNOW THE LAW.

The ‘I know the law states’ really rubbed me wrong. I was about to open my mouth and respond by my wife was on her like stink on thing, which led me to believe Karen is louder than a lawnmower. My wife was still seething about Karen recording the humans.

Wife: They don’t go in your yard, and they are good children. They are not heathens!

You better STOP RECORDING MY CHILDREN.

Karen: Oh shut up. You guys are white trash. Your children play in the street and run around the neighborhood like criminals. They broke my mulch too. (Yes. She said they broke the mulch.) Everybody knows you’re trash. Just. Stupid. White. Trash.

I am now thinking, ‘Oh no,’ and semi-worried about Karen’s future health as an active participant of living humans.

I think my wife wanted to expire Karen’s shelf-life.

Wife: Excuse me? My children never play in the street, you’re recording them, and…

Karen: Just shut up! YOU’RE STUPID. YOU’RE JUST PLAIN STUPID. I CAN RECORD THEM IF I WANT. NO WONDER YOU DON’T HAVE JOBS

Wife: I HAVE THREE ADVANCED DEGREES. WE ARE WORKING FROM HOME. WE ARE NOT…

Karen: You are! YOU’RE TRASHY AND STUPID, AND BOTH YOUR CHILDREN ARE STUPID.

I had enough. There was no point in arguing either. Mark Twain stated, ‘Never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.’ Mark is correct, and Karen was trying to drag us down. Well, I don’t know why, but I remember something that Kevin discussed with me when we first moved in; the trees!

They have a large maple tree, and they have a juniper tree.

Kevin always told me they were ‘in the process’ of contracting a company to the crown and lift the maple tree. Furthermore, they were going to get the juniper tree off my fence. It was my time to join this exciting game called pettiness!

OP: Karen. You have until Sunday to get your juniper off my fence.

Karen: Shut up. I told you we were going to get it handled this fall.

OP: It’s June. You have until Sunday

Karen: Or What?

I allow my wife to rejoin the conversation, and I retreat to the garage. I grab my clippers, and prune a good couple inches of the juniper tree, and lay them at her feet. Cue T-Rex doing a volcano voice!

Karen: WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? I TOLD YOU IT WILL BE DONE THIS FALL.

OP: You have until Saturday now.

Karen: You are dumb too. Just like your wife aren’t you?

My intelligence may have been debatable, but I suppose it was time to repeat the process?!? I now return with about two feet of the tree and place it at her feet.

OP: You have until Friday!

Karen: You better not touch my tree again. I will call the cops and have you thrown in jail tonight.

You’re so dumb, aren’t you? Now I see where you children get it from.

OP: I know the law too Karen. I will be back in a minute with some more of your juniper tree!

Karen: KEVIN. KEVIN. KEVIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNN!

I again return to the tree. I now have another two feet of juniper tree to place at her feet. The more she screams the smaller her tree becomes.

It was an enjoyable game of cause and effect. Meanwhile, I see Kevin and Kevin Jr running like Usain Bolt to secure their tree with two straps.

Karen: I hope you’re happy. You are terrible people! You are both terrible parents, and your children are heathens. I am sick of ball bouncing and waking my son up too. You people need to move. You are just horrible parents.

HORRIBLE. (Screaming louder) HORRIBLE PARENTS.

I had enough. I was at critical mass; I was going to explode. Karen continued to yell at my wife and I was zoning out. It was comical to watch Kevin and Kevin Jr secure the tree to their porch in order to get it off the fence. Once complete, they quickly made their way back to the one-sided screaming party.

Karen: Horrible parents. Look with they did to my poor tree.

Kevin: I think we should call the cops dear.

Karen: HORRIBLE PARENTS! I feel sorry for your kids and…

OP: Just shut up! I raked up 21 bags of leaves this past fall. Twenty-One. Funny, because we don’t have a tree in our backyard. I pulled an additional bags worth of leaves and branches from my gutter.

Not from ‘my tree’ either. It was from your tree. You know what Kevin? I didn’t. I didn’t knock on your door and complain.

Kevin: Yeah, and?

OP: We live in a suburbia. This thing happens. They are kids; kids play outside! I don’t want the ball in your yard either. You accuse them of being in your yard. You also accuse them of ‘BREAKING MULCH’.

How do you break mulch? Are you serious? Really?

Karen: Yes really. Maybe you should learn how to parent your horrible children.

OP JUST LOST IT (WAIT FOR THE SURPRISE!)

OP: Know what? That’s the last time you question me about my parenting. My children are going to grow up and be productive members of our society. I find it comical that you have the audacity to question my parenting seeing how you have a (WAIT FOR IT) 49-year-old son living at your house for the past nine years.

I assume it was because of the divorce and the bankruptcy he filed nine years ago? My children are waking your child up? Your child is a jobless 49-year-old man living at home with mom and dad. Is he working on a startup? Prestige Worldwide maybe? Boats and hos!

Karen: (BAFFLED) How do you know any of that? DO YOU GO SNOOPING THROUGH OUR MAIL TOO?

OP: I am good at what I do, and I found everything online. I know you are 69 and lost your license due to a reckless endangerment charge in 2017. I know Kevin Jr has 5 different moving violations and one DUI. I also know he was fired from his grounds-crew job with the HOA. I know your husband is 72 and wears the same shirt every day, so I can only assume that laundry is not a priority.

I know your phone numbers and email accounts. I know a lot of things about you. YOUR CHILD IS 49 AND LIVES AT HOME. MAYBE YOU SHOULD BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT YOUR PARENTING AND LESS ABOUT MINE! We can have a civil relationship or we can have a war. Just remember this though, I AM GOING TO OUTLIVE YOU!

They stormed into the house. They were not happy or impressed with my ability to figure things out.

It was not over for me though. They messed with the wrong jerk. They were unaware of the actions I took to keep the peace. For example, I never let the boys play basketball while they were outside eating dinner. I didn’t let them play before nine or after seven. I tried. But they would play blare country music and enjoy the gorgeous weather and eat a meal. I never rant about Garth Brooks on volume 100 while I watched the national news.

I was teleworking, and I took jerking around as a part-time job now.

I have wrestled since I was four years old. I was never much of a basketball guy. I am now though! Karen and Kevin had just sat down to enjoy their meal. I don’t have to spy either. I can easily see them out my french doors as I watch the national news.

I patiently waited for the sloth-speed dorks to get their outside dinner setting perfectly situated. I could hear Tim McGraw playing when I opened my french doors. I like music too, so I figured I would get my groove and play basketball.

OP: Alexa (Amazon) play (bleep) Ain’t (bleep) by Dr. Dre.

Alexa: bleep ain’t bleep by Dr. Dre.

OP: Alexa. Volume 10

I have a new fondness for rap music and the game of basketball.

This didn’t stop Karen from recording my ‘heathens’ on a daily basis. I know what I was about to do was petty, but I had zero care to give at that point. I had one last bullet. It was my final card to play; an Uno Reverse Card of sorts!

My neighbors, across the street, and my family have bonded. He had a tree removed last week, and I had an epiphany.

How much would it cost to trim a large maple tree that overhangs my property? I am not talking a couple of branches either, but more like one-half of a more than a 100-foot tree. I approached the tree removal company an offered them a sizeable chunk of change and informed them of my delicate problem. They said, ‘any friend of MY NEIGHBOR is a friend of theirs.’ Pro bono!

They move their large equipment over to my backyard and take their time getting ready. Guess who came running out of the house? No. Not Brad Pitt. Get yourself together. Karen and Kevin came running out.

Kevin: Hey buddy! (Buddy. Not jerk. Not a horrible parent. Buddy!)

OP: What can I do for you?

Kevin: What are they doing here?

OP: Oh. Them (Points)?

Kevin: Yeah.

What are they doing?

OP: Oh. Well, they are going to trim the tree?

Kevin: Just trim?

OP: Yup. Just a little trim!

Karen: You know that tree was a gift from our daughter right? We don’t want anything drastic. It has been with us for over forty years now.

Kevin: Yeah. It was a gift from our daughter. How much are you thinking about trimming?

OP: Well. Just so you’re aware, do you understand that I can legally trim anything that overhangs my property? I have approval from my lawyer and the HOA to trim it. Frankly, I care as much about your tree as you do my children’s privacy; I could care less!

Kevin: How much are you talking about trimming then?

OP: My property line is here (I point) and it extends up (I point up) to space.

I am going to trim every single branch that encroaches on my property. So, probably about 1/3 of your tree. It’s gonna look really funny when I am done. Oh well.

Karen started to cry. It was a really, really ugly cry. There was no more rage left in her. She was defeated. Kevin was defeated as well. This was not my desire. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if she cried, but it was not my intent.

OP: Or YOU CAN STOP RECORDING MY CHILDREN.

Karen: (Looking like a snot-nosed Carole Baskin) If I stop recording?

OP: Look. We don’t have to like each other, because I certainly don’t like you guys. My boys never go in your yard. Ever. I don’t give a darn if you keep the other basketballs, but I will be darned if you record them ever again.

If you do, I will cut your tree down without warning.

Kevin: (ANNOYED) Thanks bud.

OP: No worries friend. I am just trying to be neighborly. Just remember. I am dead serious about the tree, and I am pretty certain I will outlive you.

I know I am a jerk. I know we were both in the wrong at times. I draw the line when a 69-year-old woman sees fit to torment my kids.

We have only had one problem since these events occurred. Kevin Jr’s car sat in the same spot for nine months. I have submitted over 20 home improvement requests to the HOA, and I am now friends with the wonderful ladies that work there. They periodically inspect neighborhoods and noticed the registration on Jr’s vehicle was two years outdated and had it towed. Karen accused me of having towed. We had another colorful conversation, but it ended there.

Kevin Jr. is still jobless to this day. I assume he has managed to erect a bunk bed in his childhood bedroom. He has ‘so much more room for activities.’ Just make sure you don’t touch his drum set.

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Ikkakumon 2 years ago
Wow. I came across the second part of this story first. I really hope there is a part 3, these are epic! Lol
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10. Horrible Teacher Fails To Do His Job So We Got Him Fired

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“When I was in secondary school I had a teacher (Mr. Geller for the sake of this post) who absolutely hated me. He was pretty popular with the ‘cool’ kids at school. He’d stop teaching to talk to them, joke around, and generally act like one of the kids in the class rather than the teacher. Which is fine, I guess, apart from the fact that he was so busy joking around with the popular kids that he’d fail to actually teach his class properly and our work would suffer because of it.

Over half his class failed their exams and the other half (bar a handful of students who were really good at the subject) managed to just barely pass after going to a bunch of tutoring classes in the weeks running up to the exam. I genuinely don’t know how he managed to keep his job for so long.

I had (and still somewhat have) some pretty severe anxiety issues to the point where I’d sometimes not go to school due to the panic attacks.

I was never bullied by any of the students but just the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of loud, hyperactive students was enough to make me physically ill. As a result of this, I would often be allowed to work in one of the ‘pupil support bases.’ Essentially a small room that I could work in by myself and would receive support from one of the learning support teachers if needed. This also allowed me to leave a class (with permission from the teacher of course) if I was having a particularly bad day and go to the base to calm down and complete my work.

Mr. Geller was not a fan of this.

Whenever I would ask him if I could go to the learning support base he’d always tell me no and then mock me in front of everyone about how this was the reason I was failing his class, I was just barely scraping passing his class. However, most of his class were in the same boat as me and, again like me, the majority of them were doing pretty well in their other subjects.

This was clearly down to his teaching ability, nothing else.

My significant other, Alex, and a handful of other seniors would be in my class once or twice a week and would often help explain things to myself and some other students if we were struggling. Essentially doing Mr. Geller’s job. This wasn’t fair as they had to neglect some of their own work to act as a teacher.

Mr. Geller would again use this to mock me in front of the class, saying things along the lines of ‘now you boys make sure you keep your hands to yourselves’ or ‘we can continue with the lesson when the lovebirds decide to stop their flirting and pay attention’. I know it seems trivial now but at the time it was humiliating as he never called anyone out other than me and having the whole class essentially point and laugh at me and Alex (though they probably didn’t mean any harm) was enough to make my anxiety skyrocket.

I dealt with his behavior for months. The snide comments, mocking me in front of everyone, standing behind me when I was trying to work and scoffing about how awful my work was, stopping in the middle of a lesson to lecture me if I wasn’t taking enough notes for his liking, I dealt with it all. My mental health was a wreck.

The thing that finally broke me and made me decide to finally do something about it was when he failed me in one of my tests because I apparently copied off Alex, who might I add was doing an advanced higher class, not the National 5 course we were doing.

He was on a completely different topic from me so there was no way I could copy by looking at his page and he was sitting five tables away from me. I physically couldn’t copy off him if I wanted to.

At this point I was annoyed. An emotional wreck, yes, but annoyed. Alex and I decided to get back at this disgrace of a teacher.

Now, for the revenge.

I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this at first. Alex suggested reporting him to the headteacher but if that happened then everyone would know it was me. I didn’t want to be the one that reported a popular teacher. Kids can be cruel.

So Alex and I, and a couple of Alex’s friends, came up with a plan. Alex and his friends were not pleased with having to do a bunch of extra work to keep on top of their work as they were too busy being ignored by Mr. Geller and teaching his class for him.

Plus they were leaving at the end of the year so if it fell back on them, then there really wasn’t a whole lot anyone could do about it.

Alex and his friends started recording all of their lessons on their phones. Mr. Geller joking around with his favorite students instead of teaching, telling Alex and his friends to help each other when they needed something explained to them, and having them essentially taking the place of a teacher in his class.

They also managed to record a couple of instances where Mr. Geller accused me of ‘attention-seeking’ when I asked to go to the student support base (after finishing all of the work he’d set in that class).

This went on for weeks. We all met up and sorted through the recordings, made sure that we’d collected enough evidence. It was a long, grueling few weeks but we managed, we’d been dealing with it for months anyway, we could last a few more weeks.

One of Alex’s friends suggested that I try and do my work elsewhere as much as possible so that I couldn’t be blamed for the recordings. So I did. There were a few raised eyebrows but I was still getting my work for the class done (I had to do extra work at home to keep on top of it but I had to do that anyway).

Whilst I had some time to myself both in the base and at home, I essentially stalked Mr. Geller’s social media. It wasn’t too hard to find. I couldn’t find a whole lot on his social media. The only thing worth noting was his friend’s list. He had all his favorite students on his social media. I couldn’t find a whole lot of stuff that he’d been tagged in or anything though I did scan through the student’s profiles and found that he’d commented on a lot of their posts.

Most of it was harmless banter but there was a few comment thread that I found he was talking crap about some other students. He made fun of a boy whose mother was a recovering substance-dependant, a girl with dyslexia, and a girl who had reported a couple of the popular kids for bullying her (this is just to name a few). I was on the list of students he liked to make fun of when he thought no one would notice.

It did a number on my anxiety seeing my classmates and teacher saying these things but I pushed through and read them all. I decided to screenshot whatever I could find and sent it to Alex. I also took the screenshots of all the disgusting things he was saying about the other students and emailed them to their parents (or whatever parents I could get the email addresses of).

Needless to say, they were not happy.

After we’d gathered enough evidence, we sent an email to the headteacher with everything attached. We never got all the details on what happened to Mr. Geller but we do know that the headteacher got some higher-ups involved. We’re still not 100% sure if he decided to resign or if he was fired, all we know is that after the summer holidays, we had a new teacher.

And surprise, surprise, she actually knew how to teach a class.

I heard through a friend that Mr. Geller managed to get a job at another school a couple of hours away but that job didn’t last very long, he either quit or was fired. He hasn’t worked as a teacher since. According to his online profile, he no longer has a wife. Rumour is that his marriage fell apart after he lost his job though I’m not sure how true that is.

Hopefully, he’s a better person now (I highly doubt it though).”

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9. Roommate Kicks Me Out To Live With Her Man

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“My best friend of 5 years and I were 18 years old and decided to go live on our own and rent an apartment together. The apartment was small and cheap but in a great location. We only had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen.

Decided to not split costs for furniture so that when either one of us moves out they can just take the stuff they paid for. Like, she bought the dining table and chairs, I bought the microwave.

Over time smaller things like a bookshelf and some door handles (the landlord was very flexible with stuff like this) and other knick-knacks we paid 50/50 for. I also decided to put another floor in my room as did she.

Cue 6 months later and our relationship deteriorated. She was blowing off hanging with (mutual) friends just to be with her significant other and kept buying him stuff. He was a total jerk, the type to believe that women should do all the household chores. I often found him in the shared kitchen in his undergarments. But she was head over heels and had only eyes for him.

He still lived with his parents so he was keen to move out and wanted to live with her. The apartment would have definitely been too small for the 3 of us (and I wouldn’t want to be the 3rd wheel anyway). We weren’t talking much at one point and I didn’t think too much about it, thinking it would just blow over and the relationship would end.

After 8 months she told me she wanted to live together with her significant other and she wanted me to give me time to find a new place. I wasn’t surprised as they had grown even closer together and I wasn’t feeling comfortable anymore in the apartment anyway. Also, the landlord that lived in the same building was becoming very hostile and racist towards me. I had a look at some rooms to rent but no luck, it was either too expensive or I didn’t like the location so was thinking about going back to my parents.

One month after she told me she wanted to give me time, she sent me a text saying she was done with me (don’t know what set it off) and I needed to be moved out this weekend (it was Friday). I told her my rent was paid off till the end of the month so no, to which she transferred the money for my rent and told me to be moved out.

I called my family to help me move to my parents, luckily I didn’t own much stuff. My mom was so angry she brought spray cans to spray on the walls which I talked her out of. But we did decide to take everything I paid for. I took the flooring I put in with me, the linoleum was easily cut out and we left the scraps that we were unable to get out.

Remember the door handles and bookshelf that I paid half for? My dad sawed the bookshelf in half and we put half of it in the trash. We disassembled all the door handles I paid for and took the same halves of the handles so that they wouldn’t work anymore, she had like 3-4 door handles which were incomplete.

I forgot (no lie) to give the keys to the landlord when I moved out.

She called me really angrily telling me I have to give them back or she would put new locks in. Remembering she was a racist butthead, I told her to put new locks in then.

In the end, I never heard from the roommate again. Her significant other moved in with her and the landlord started terrorizing her. She eventually moved and I heard her relationship ended after about a year.”

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8. She Had To Spend Her Christmas Vacation Taking Me To The Doctor

“When I was young, I got sick a lot.

Found out when I got older that stress does that, but that’s neither here nor there, you’re here for the time I had Strep Throat in the 5th grade.

I knew at LEAST a week before the incident that I was sick. Problem is, it was just before Christmas Break and no one trusts you when you’re like 10, so I had both my mother AND my infamously awful teacher telling me, ‘You’re not really SICK, you just wanna start Christmas vacation EARLY!!’ All week, I woke up absolutely miserable.

Between the pain in my throat and the unending supply of mucus, I couldn’t even focus in class. My CLASSMATES noticed, but not the teacher, who kept backing up my mother. I’m sorry there isn’t more detail from this time, but I was so out of it. Eventually, it was Friday, the final day before Christmas Break started. I just kept getting worse, and no adult believed me.

At this point, I almost wanted to die from how much I was suffering.

I remember just before recess, I’d gone to my teacher’s desk for something — either to talk to her or get tissues, I’m really unsure — and I remember her basically taunting me, on how I failed with my little plot to start vacation early so I could stop the act.

My nose, absolute savage that it is, decided this moment was the moment to clear out the sinuses, and I sneeze. I tried, I tried so hard to turn away and cover-up, but it was so sudden that I had no time… I sneezed almost directly onto my awful teacher. And when I said ‘clearing my sinuses out’ earlier, I MEANT it. Between the floor, her blouse, and her desk, there was easily a whole square foot of bright yellow mucus.

Like, it was bad enough that I’d feel horrible for my teacher if she wasn’t such a god-awful witch. She starts FREAKING OUT, makes me clean up what got on the floor while she runs out to clean the sick mucus off herself. I was trying not to cry from embarrassment, meanwhile, a couple of my classmates were like ‘if you weren’t so sick right now, I’d high five you.

Did you seriously sneeze on the teacher??’ which made me feel a lot better, emotionally. My teacher ends up returning, and with a scowl, she admits I’m clearly sick, so to go to the office and call home. I called my mother, who cursed up a storm at me until I explained the massive yellow glob I’d sneezed all over the teacher.

In the end, I didn’t die from Strep Throat, and my mother was forced to spend HER Christmas Vacation taking me to doctors.

The cherry on top? It was her birthday, too. My mother had to spend her own birthday in the pediatrician’s office SURROUNDED by sick kids and ended up sick herself, all because she ‘knew better.’ Ranted a storm the whole time, but I just reminded her over and over that she could have taken me a week earlier when I said I was sick.

The best part, she trusted me to know my body after that, which is the biggest win I could have gotten. She never gave/gives me time to recover, but at least I get to go to the doctor. ”

5 points - Liked by mano1, rele, lare and 2 more
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7. Not Returning My Equipment? You're Not Getting The Data Then

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“Worked for a company doing commercial air conditioning control systems. I was issued company laptops (along with other tools) when I started.

Fast forward a couple of years into work, my laptop hard drive failed on a Friday at 3 PM. Monday I had to be back on the site at 6 AM to start up a piece of equipment. So I called my project manager and told him what had happened. He told me to call the IT manager (we’ll call him David).

After telling David what happened the only thing he could offer is for me to come in Monday morning and get another laptop at 8 AM when he arrives. Being computer savvy, I offered to go buy a new hard drive and reinstall everything so I could meet my 6 AM deadline. David told me to go ahead and save my receipts to get reimbursed and to log the time spent.

So I went to the local big blue box store with the yellow tag and bought a new hard drive… a 500GB hybrid drive which was a major improvement over the 120GB 5400rpm drive before. Installed the drive and all the software. Come Monday I just had to re-license my software (luckily it had a 30-day demo mode).

The following week I turned in my receipts.

David tells me they won’t reimburse me for the drive because it wasn’t an exact replacement for the old one. I told him that they didn’t have those drives anymore and this was the cheapest I could find (it was on sale and cheaper than the 250GB drives). David still tells me no.

‘Fine, if I ever leave, I’m taking the drive with me.’

‘Whatever.’ Was David’s reply.

Fast forward to about two years ago. The company changed hands and I was getting the short end of the stick. By this time, I was now the senior field technician and technician training lead. I had my machine full of past and current projects and emails and everything else. I was pretty much on my own and wasn’t required to submit reports or paperwork until the job was completed. So they had no idea what the status of any of my projects was at.

I decided to leave the company. Interviewed with another company, accepted a job making more dough and better benefits doing the same thing I was before. Made the plan to submit my resignation on that Friday, offering to stay to help bring a new hire or another tech up to speed on my projects. So I went in Friday after work and had a meeting with my operations manager (call him Rick), my project manager (call him Mike), and David.

Told them I was quitting and presented my written notice. Rick read it and handed it to David. Rick then proceeds to tell me ‘Thanks for the offer but we are going to go ahead and make this your final day.’

‘What about my projects?’

‘It’s all on your computer, right?’

‘Yeah, but I’m taking the drive with me as per my agreement with David.’

‘I didn’t approve that.’

‘Fine.’

So I handed over my laptop and such and that was pretty much the end of it… or was it?

The following Monday David calls me. ‘Hey, what’s the password for the machine?’

‘What password?’

‘For the encryption?’

‘Couldn’t tell you.’ And hung up. The software I was running would erase the drive after 20 failed attempts.

I found out from Mike (my old project manager who quit and went to another company) that they kept trying to guess my password and wiped the drive.

I still have the contents of the drive that I backed up the night before. My drive was backed up nightly to my NAS when I was at home.”

4 points - Liked by mano1, dida, SmilyDee and 1 more
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6. He Used Me To Babysit His Kids While He Saw Another Woman

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“Harry and I had been together for 3 years. He had two kids and as a result, we didn’t want to rush moving in together.

For the 3 months prior almost every week on the days when Harry had his kids, he would have to work late and asked me to look after his kids for him. I’d pick them up from after-school care, make them dinner, get them ready for bed, etc. There had also been a few times he had been offered an overnight shift (healthcare) and I had babysat them too and taken them to school the next morning.

I was happy to help as he seemed to need the extra cash and had borrowed $$ from me.

Anyway, I was dutifully watching a kid’s movie when my friend messaged me that she had seen him in a club kissing a woman. I said she must have been mistaken because he was at work but she sent me some pics and sure enough it was him!

I was livid but had to keep it inside for the kids’ sake… I put them to bed as early as possible and tried to stay calm waiting for him to come back… then the message came that he had to work overnight, I tried calling him… no answer and after a few tries… straight to voicemail. He had turned his phone off!

This was the point where I lost it..

but I couldn’t leave or vent because of the kids… I’m not proud of what I did… I went slowly through each room trying to create as much unnoticeable chaos as possible. I removed the most useful screwdriver from his toolbox, broke all the filaments in his spare bulbs, swapped the washing and dishwasher powder for a mixture of flour, sugar, and whatever else I could find, I filed one of his professional certificates (required for audits) in a folder he wouldn’t look in, I put jam underneath the soles of his hiking boots, started unpicking the buttons on a few of his shirts, same with the flies on his favorite pairs of pants, I changed his Wi-Fi and router passwords… I guess you get the idea.

My final act at 6 am just before I had to wake the kids up and act like everything was fine was to disable the chip in his passport and slightly deface it so it might look like it was forged… I guess 2020 has made that redundant.

Anyway… I left things a few days and avoided too much contact. Then I messaged him saying I didn’t feel I have really invested in the relationship anymore and I was sorry and hoped he had a nice life.

He tried calling numerous times. I blocked him everywhere and haven’t heard from him since.”

4 points - Liked by mano1, lare, ann and 1 more
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5. A Lifetime Of Revenge

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“Growing up, taking care of the house was my responsibility, from the age of 4 until I left. My dad worked 2 jobs and was exhausted, while my mother was just a fat lazy woman.

Literally any time my dad went off on her for not doing what she was supposed to be doing around the house, she verbally and physically abused me behind closed doors, blaming me for having not done them for her. The stress left me sick QUITE often, and I got sick pretty much every other month by the time I moved out the first time.

Colds, strep throat, bronchitis, etc. Yet even after a visit to the doctor’s office to get antibiotics, it was still my responsibility to cook and clean for her.

So my lifelong petty revenge was to spit in her food. I learned early on that snot rockets were hard to break down outside a creamy dish, so it was usually just plain spit. I didn’t mind dropping her food on the floor (which was a pretty gross floor given cleaning had been my responsibility since I was 4) when I had to bring her plate.

Sometimes I’d drool onto her plate. And she was never the wiser. But she could never understand why she always got sick so fast, why it spread through the family so quickly.

Sometime after I moved out, we got in an argument about my treatment growing up. She always says she did most of the work, that I never had to do anything around the house until middle school (I was really tall, she might actually believe that), and that I was a liar.

I’m like, ‘what about the dozens upon dozens of times I remember cooking for you with strep throat?’ She laughed in my face and said to me with a menacing smile that NEVER happened (since she thought I couldn’t prove it). So I say, ‘so you never wondered why it spread so fast when I got sick? I spit in your food for 12 years, woman!’ She sputtered for a few moments, turning white as she realizes.

It felt so good when I left that day.

I should add, she always wanted to blame my immune system problems on my brief stay in foster care… when I moved out, I went from getting sick maybe 6-8 times a year to getting sick only twice in a period of 3 years. My immune system is fine.”

4 points - Liked by mano1, rele, lare and 1 more
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Posiden1212 2 years ago
Jesus what a horrible mother....... My mother is a boozer who used to spend all her free time in chat rooms and pretty much did nothing else
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4. Disrupt My Class? Enjoy Some Electrostatic Shock

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“So when my father was in high school, he was taking physics in junior year (for the non-Americans, that’s 11th grade, or about 16 years old).

His physics teacher was a German man named Herr Wolfgang Schneider (pronounced Vulfgang). In the school building, some of the lockers are right next to the door. My father was also in a double period class, so some of the kids were wandering the halls, getting their stuff from their locker when my father was in class with Herr Wolfgang. For a long time, there was this one kid that had a locker right next to the door and would fidget with the door handle.

This lasted for a couple of days before Herr Wolfgang had enough.

In physics at the time, they were experimenting with electricity and used a Van de Graaff Generator (or electrostatic generator). For those of you that do not know what that is, the kids would hold each other’s hands, and one person would put their hand on the generator, and the other would hold a lightbulb.

Sometimes, the chain would break, and then the person to their right would get zapped. If you want to know what that feels like, imagine someone rubbing their feet on a shaggy carpet for a long time, then poking you in the arm. Then multiply that by ten. Yeah, intense. Anyway, Herr Wolfgang wired the Van de Graaff Generator into the door handle and waited. When the kid went to jiggle the door handle, he got zapped. A loud zap sound ensued, followed by a scream.

The kid leaped across the hallway, rubbing his hand. The class erupted into laughter and applause, and Herr Wolfgang took a bow. The kid never jiggled the doorhandle after that.”

3 points - Liked by SmilyDee, CaretakerOnceUponATime and Alliaura
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3. Selfish Boss Lost His Business And Contracts

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“I was an idiot growing up and ended up in a rehabilitation program for people under 18 to avoid jail time and eventually got given a place at a large charity agency that sources workers for anything from retail to gardening.

The person directly in control of my position at the said charity was one of those ‘I’m too nice for anyone to notice me doing wrong’ people and he put me, someone, who literally couldn’t (and still can’t years later) talk to a stranger without panicking, into a job in retail speaking to upwards of 35+ customers a day. It May does not sound like a lot but I struggled to make it through a day without going into the back room and crying.

So, I get assigned to work in an (unsure of the right word here but, privately owned?) retail place that sells ‘upcycled’ furniture. I had previously worked at the site actually doing the upcycling and knew this stuff was a scam, barely had a thing changed and the people doing the work spent most of the day drinking coffee and smoking while playing games on their phone.

The boss of this site (Kevin) showed just what kind of person he was from day 1 by threatening to fire me for telling him I can’t handle strangers and shouting in my face. God, I wish he had fired me. This never got better and over the months of working there and I eventually started recording it all without his knowledge. Among the things he did is this list:

Shouting at staff for not putting toilet paper on the holder (there was a pile of it on the back of the toilet)

Calling the person in charge of my placement and reporting me for ‘lack of workplace enthusiasm’ in front of me while I was having a panic attack

Telling a 70+-year-old woman who I worked with that she needs to ‘grow up and handle confrontation like a man’ after having 2 large men shout and swear at her for refusing to sell an already sold item to them

Throwing his phone (told by another employee) after I called in sick for a day due to crippling stomach pains brought on by Crohn’s

After being told at 11 am that I won’t make it to my shift (due to being in hospital), proceeded to call me at 3 am the next morning and yell at me (he seemed VERY wasted) demanding I have a doctor prove I was in the hospital because I didn’t give 2 weeks notice

And back to the story. All of this was recorded in the space of only 3 weeks and I gave it all to my placement manager who proceeded to organize a meeting between himself, Kevin, and me to try and put things right. During this meeting, however, instead of calmly talking about the issue and what can be done to solve it, all the evidence was shown to Kevin who then yelled at me for recording him then throwing a full-on tantrum that I would dare question his style of management while I sat there scared as ever and my placement manager just did nothing.

Back we go to work with a final warning strike issued to me for gross misconduct and told that I should do as stated in my contract and anything else that is asked of me or I would be fired. I do everything I can to follow my contract and anything else asked of me including cleaning a toilet and see a broken window above it.

That’s when I finally get a plan together.

The plan I came up with meant I had to stay in everyone’s good books, deal with a-hole customers, go to work even in crippling pain and dose up on meds to control my panicking but in exchange my belief was I could get Kevin replaced or at least get myself removed from the situation.

I should have clarified earlier, being fired from any site ALSO gets you taken off the charity’s payroll.

I started informing Kevin of every little safety violation the site managed to break from broken windows in the female toilets, loose light fixtures, and broken locks on doors all the way up to a giant glass panel going across the front of the shop that was barely hanging in by a few bits of rubber and could easily kill a small child or less than strong adult if it were to fall out.

I emailed him and texted him about each one individually and brought it up to other staff in hopes they would do the same, while also making sure to take photos of each of these issues so I could use them again later.

Another month and a half of working there and at this point I felt I may have a little too many minor details saved up but decided its best to go overkill than underkill and sent a huge email to the UK HSE (health and safety executive) detailing every risk and danger with photos attached to show what the place was doing wrong and requesting an inspection.

Of course, they obliged.

1 week later I get a phone call from Kevin. He tells me how the shop is closing down, how a safety inspection was carried out, and how it had been failed so badly that he lost his contract with the charity and that nobody would be able to use the building for weeks while everything gets brought back up to code, but he couldn’t run the place anymore due to money issues while it was closed because he had no savings for this.

I never heard from him again.

A year later: After this happened I moved on and began working from home doing image editing for quick cash and around a year later I get a call from the placement manager who hadn’t heard from me the whole time and I got asked in the coldest, most passive-aggressive tone ‘why didn’t you tell me the store closed?’ turns out they had been apparently paying me £300 a DAY for a job I didn’t have, hours I didn’t work and this was all apparently being reported on the charities income as someone else account.

They got me confused with another person and reporting their hard work on my files and it took them a year to notice because of how badly they handled everything.

Just clearing the confusion, they had my name on another person’s paperwork and though they paid the right person, they were using my name. As for the numbers being so high, going off the comments on my previous posting, some type of fraud was likely happening on one side or the other.”

2 points - Liked by SmilyDee and Alliaura
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2. They Fired My Mom So I Get Mice To Shut Down Their Business

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“My mother worked for a hotel chain in which usually has a chain of restaurants right next to them, so they were all under an umbrella company.

My mother worked in the hotel and my sister worked in the restaurant next door. My sister ended up going out with her boss, the manager of the restaurant for a while until he started two-timing her. We found this out like my mother, as the head of the hotel, monitored the CCTV in the hotel AND the restaurant and saw other workers going up to his apartment above the hotel that he lived in regularly and the worker not coming out until the morning after…

My mother broke it to my sister who immediately resigned and worked elsewhere. But the manager ended up finding out that it was my mother who had told her daughter about him two-timing, so, he resented her for it. During that time the hotel and restaurant split and my mother was made redundant but was offered an immediate start in the restaurant next door as an assistant manager.

Good pay rise, working with familiar people, and the agreement that the manager who two-timed on my sister would have to be on separate shifts so there is no conflict of interest. She accepted the job.

The manager ended up making my mother’s life miserable in subtle ways, by always putting her on 12-hour shifts, not paying overtime on time, etc. My mother is a hard worker, so she never complained and got the work done.

The manager didn’t like this as most of the workers would supplement her workload and helped her out when it was needed.

The manager decided to bring out the big guns and ended up plotting for my mother to get fired. He put my mother on the night shift and she proceeded to go through the normal processes of emptying the tills and putting everything in the safe behind the kitchen, which only the assistant manager (my mother) and the manager had access to based on company policies.

My mother went through her night shift and put everything in the safe as usual, locked it, and went home. She gets a call the next morning requesting her to come in on her day off. She was accused of leaving the safe door open, which by policy, is gross misconduct. But there was no money missing.

The company investigated this but the CCTV only covered the hallway leading up to the saferoom and caught a figure wearing a black hoodie and go into the saferoom, it then became a police matter who couldn’t confirm nor deny that it was the manager (who lived in the apartment upstairs) as the CCTV was apparently down on that night overlooking his apartment entrance!

All of this blew over and my mother got a final warning and the manager was ordered to manage a different restaurant in another city. He moved out and another manager came in. The new manager loved my mother, reemployed my sister and it was smooth for a few years. Until the previous manager got transferred back. Obviously, my mother was anxious that something would happen again, and the same subtle torture came back, 12-hour shifts, etc.

As my mother predicted, she was called up another morning asking her to in on her day off and they had HR waiting there for her. They accused her of stealing from the tills. On the night in question, she was the manager of the night, but the CCTV recording had been deleted in some bizarre data loss event. She got fired for gross misconduct.

The house was nearly repossessed and I as the youngest sometimes had to go to school without a meal. As I’ve gotten older, I understood what this manager did and obviously, I’d want to rip his head off. My partner ended up getting a job at the hotel next to the restaurant and she told me about the smoking area and that it mixes with the restaurant.

She said that they had a big problem with mice in the kitchen. I saw the chance for my mother’s redemption and I reported it to the council. The hotel my partner worked at got shut down for 2 weeks while an exterminator came in, but as it was the restaurant’s responsibility as they owned the land, they faced HUGE fines and ended up putting that restaurant into negative profit and it looks like the restaurant chain decided to shut the building down as the residents stopped eating there.

The building is currently up for sale, the hotel’s customers are still a bit disappointed that there isn’t a restaurant close by, but my partner still has the job. My mother is working as a manager of a different hotel for a different hotel chain.

I never told my mother what I did, I just know she was happy when she heard the manager that did all this to her getting fired for gross misconduct for not reporting the mice.”

2 points - Liked by xero and Alliaura
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xero 2 years ago
There mom didnt steal anything the manager stole and blamed it on there mom to get her fired so there mom got accused of something she didnt do
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1. My Little Piece Of Revenge Cost My Company $10,000

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“The year was 2020. So I have worked for my grocery store for over 6 years. And in that time I have not been promoted. I work part-time and I do more than my coworkers for the same pay (minimum wage). My store went into a remodel and throughout the chaos I rose out as the only survivor of my department to have maintained, cleaned up, and install all new protocols into my section.

I was the first and the only one to get it right without the help of my managers. I was in fact better than my managers at my section.

So, later on, I got a call from the head boss’s office. I thought, ‘Yes this is my big break!, I can finally be promoted!’ To make it short, I was told good job, now you are being removed from your section and being placed in another.

Did I ask why? They told me that they planned to put a slower person in my section since it was already operational and I would go to his section to fix it and make it work. We then sneered at each other. He said ‘That is all’. So I ask ‘Ok, do I least get a promotion??? Or a raise?’ He was offended and I was offended so we argued for 20min.

I did not get the raise and I was ORDERED to do the additional work. So naturally, I began to apply for different jobs. Oh, but it only gets better.

You see as the managers were moving me away they were in charge of the orders of food. Before my manager could start, I took back what was mine. This was my small piece of revenge, I took my ‘notes and scan pads’ that I created to make food inventory easier.

I destroyed them and threw them away in our store’s compactor. So then my manager had to order the food the old way. Walking up to each item one by one.

But there’s a new process to order food now, you scan an item, and then you put the number you see. For example, is see 10 on the shelf so I put 10 on the computer.

The shelf fits 15 so it will order 1 case of 10. To fill the floor and the rest are Blackstock. Simple. (This is the new system) But as the manager was scanning the items he was placing zero on all the items he scanned. He believes that by placing zero it would not order anything, as he believes he was requesting zero. (The way the old system worked) he asked me if he was doing it right.

I responded with, ‘Well you’re the manager, you tell me’.

I got sent home early to work on my insubordination. When I returned 2 days later. (I called out the next day) A record 20 pallets of food showed up. Our store can only hold 12 pallets max. I was OVERJOYED.

Over the following week, manpower (hours) were wasted trying to make the food fit on the sales floor, food was thrown away due to out of temp exposure, and trucks of food were sent back causing the store multiple buyback charges and fees.

Totaling over a 10,000 dollar loss. I know this because I was blamed for this and fired for it, as my name was still on the department. (No I can’t sue them I tried) either way, I had a new job in a week. And I heard my managers have been fired for not being able to manage their locations. Oh well.”

2 points - Liked by lare and Alliaura
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