People Disclose Their Jaw-Dropping Stories Of Revenge

Pexels
The things that run in people's minds will sometimes amaze you. We have the tendency to overthink things, and this sometimes leads to brilliant or witty ideas. However, these creative ideas, at times, give birth to jaw-dropping revenge ploys. These are the people who came up with the most intriguing ways to get back at their offenders.

18. Lecturer Treated People With Disrespect But Karma Got To Him

Pexels

“I suffer from depression. From what we can work out, I have actually suffered from it since I was about 5 or 6 years old, with no idea what triggered it. As a result, all through my life, I have tried to make sure others are happy, even if it comes at the expense of my own happiness. If I know someone in the same situation, I will go out of my way to help, to try to provide relief, to try to make things better to some degree.

This is a story about how the actions of one lecturer at university, almost destroyed a person’s will to succeed, but a small matter of pro revenge turned things around.

So my friend Sonia and I were in a marketing-related class together at university. She wasn’t doing marketing but chose this particular subject as an elective. Our whole class had about 35 students. We met once a week for a two-hour lecture, and again later in the week for a one-hour tutorial, where the class would be separated into two separate tutorial classes.

Mr. Vital was our lecturer, and it seemed as though he had a thing against certain students right from the start of the class. For me, when I only got a pass mark in one assignment, he said to me in front of the class ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be at university, coming from the country.’ To another person, who had a physical handicap with one arm, he said ‘How can you expect to have a marketing career if you don’t have two hands to hold a piece of paper.’ There were other instances like that, but the worst was when he commented on a presentation of Sonia’s.

One of the tasks we had to do was to design a radio ad. Because I had selected a radio broadcasting subject for one of my electives, I had access to the university’s radio studios and was the only person doing this marketing course who had unlimited access. Everyone else had to book in to use one of the studios, and you only got a one-hour block once to do your recording.

Because I got along with Sonia (we had some mutual friends at the university), and I was the only person she kind of knew doing this marketing subject, I let her tag along with me to the radio studios one weekend, so she could record her radio ad. We spent probably two and a half hours perfecting it. Sonia had recorded a very powerful 30-second radio ad, about mental health awareness.

Quite frankly, it blew mine out the window (mine was advertising a new fictitious product for a Scottish restaurant with a big yellow letter). Since mental health was obviously close to my heart, I wanted to make sure that Sonia’s ad was the best it could be.

It came time to play the ads in the weekly lecture, so everyone could hear everyone else’s ad and ask questions afterward.

When it came to mine, people got a good laugh from the food concept. When it came to Sonia’s, I kid you not, everyone stood and clapped, and I reckon there were even several people who had tears… it was that moving. We finished listening to the ads, the lecturer writing down notes after each ad and then saying he will give out the grades next week.

Come the following weeks, and the grades are given out during the lecture, as well as comments on each person’s ad. I got a comment that the ad was a bit stunted, but it was an interesting food concept, and still got a B+. When it came to Sonia, the lecturer only gave her a D-. Everyone in the class was shocked. Sonia was nearly in tears.

The lecturer then went to his comments. Said that the ad was not believable. Anybody who suffers from depression is just weak and sad and just needs to grow up. There was no point in the ad if people don’t understand the message, and this ad had no legitimate message to it. Then he said that the world would not need an ad like this. No radio station in the world would ever play it.

Sonia ran out of the room crying. The class was silent, and the lecturer was even looking red in the face after that outburst. I walked out of the room and tried to find Sonia. I saw her in a corner, curled up, crying, I calmed her down, walked her home, and then started working out how I could get revenge on Mr. Vital.

Back then, there was no social media.

There was no posting things every five seconds on YouTube. And most mobile phones at the time did not even take photos, let alone videos. So without a physical recording, it was going to be our word against his. So I started asking around some of our other classmates. Some were willing to help and were ready to sign sworn statements of what he said. Others were sympathetic but wanted to stay out of it.

So I started researching how to complain about a lecturer for unfair treatment. Most of the university’s policy surrounding complaints specifically mentioned written assignments… they had not factored in assessments that were not in writing. I had a flatmate who was a third-year law student, who went over the university’s policy for me and said without physical proof, even with witnesses, the policy is slanted towards the lecturers and not the students.

So I had to start looking at other ways, outside of the university’s policy, to gain revenge.

Unbeknownst to me, one of the guys in the class had actually recorded what Mr. Vital had been saying (the student had a hearing problem, so would often record lectures onto a tape to make sure he didn’t miss anything). I ran into him during another class and mentioned the predicament.

He mentioned that he had finished with his recording of the lecture, so I was free to have it if I wanted it. So I got it off him and listened to it. The recording was literally a goldmine. But I couldn’t work out what to do with it, to maximum effect. Then I had an idea.

I had a meeting scheduled with another lecturer, with who I got along great.

My life and his life shared a lot of similarities, such as our backgrounds, and even our father’s occupations. We would often chat about non-course subjects outside of class. This meeting was about a pamphlet I was designing and wanted some advice on graphics for it. I thought, as a longshot, to take the recording, as well as Sonia’s ad, with me. So I sat down and discussed what I needed to do with him.

I then casually asked him about his thoughts on Mr. Vital. The lecturer told me not to repeat it to anyone, but Mr. Vital has visions of grandeur. Mr. Vital knows that the Dean of the Faculty is looking at retiring in the next year or two, and he heard through the grapevine that Mr. Vital is jockeying for the Dean’s job. The lecturer told me that almost the entire faculty hates Mr.

Vital. So I mentioned Sonia’s problem to the lecturer. I mentioned to the lecturer how the university’s policy is a grey area when the assignment is not a written one, so the lecturer said he will take a listen to it. I played him Sonia’s ad, then Mr. Vitals comments. The lecturer was absolutely shocked. He said that was a broadcast-quality radio ad, and could not fault it.

Said the ad had a great message to it. The lecturer said to wait in his office, as he was going to see if the Dean of the business faculty was free. He said that this is something that the Dean may be interested in hearing, although again not much could be done because of the university policy.

The Dean was free, so we walked into the Dean’s office (it was just down the hall).

The same thing from the Dean… a great ad, does not know what Mr. Vital was thinking. The Dean asked me to come by his office, with Sonia, the following day at midday. The lecturer was asked to come along as well. No mention of Mr. Vital at this stage. We had no idea why the Dean wanted us there, including Sonia.

Sonia and I meet up with the lecturer, and we get to the Dean’s office.

Already sitting in the Dean’s office is the Vice-Chancellor of the university and another person who we did not recognize. We went through the same thing with the Vice-Chancellor… playing the ad, then Mr. Vital’s comments. The Vice-Chancellor also said that the ad was well produced, strong message, etc. Then the unknown person in the room spoke. He introduced himself as the head of programming for the main local commercial radio station.

He wanted to know whether he could pay Sonia for the ad, by making only a minor edit (the use of copyright music). Sonia had a huge smile on her face and then said that they could have it for free. Side note, the radio station played it for the next two years.

As for Mr. Vital? The following week, there was someone else doing the lectures and the tutorials.

We were told that Mr. Vital was not going to be teaching the class for the rest of the semester. I later found out that Mr. Vital’s tenure was coming to an end at the university at the end of the semester, and the university had been considering whether to extend it… obviously, if he was being considered as a replacement for the Dean, they definitely would be extending his tenure.

After his comments, the Vice-Chancellor elected not to but chose until the last minute to say anything to Mr. Vital. As a result, the best Mr. Vital could achieve for a job the following year was working for one of those private tutorial services, earning a lot less than he would have as a university lecturer. The lecturer, I had a drink with a few weeks ago. As this happened 20 odd years ago, the lecturer has since retired, but I do meet up with him from time to time.

And in case anyone wants to know, last I heard Sonia now lives in the US, is married, has three kids, and works for a mental health organization.”

16 points (16 votes)
Post


17. He Didn't Know About The Hurricane Seat

Pexels

“So I work as a Blackhawk crew chief in the US Army. A small part of my job involves ushering people in and out of the aircraft, getting them seated, and helping them fasten their seat belts. Most people, regardless of rank, are pretty respectful when getting on my aircraft. They comply with orders I give them and usually don’t cause much of a fuss. However, during my time in Afghanistan, I had the absolute pleasure of transporting one of the most entitled First Sergeants (1SG) I’ve ever met.

He wasn’t in our direct chain of command but rather he was a company 1SG for the task force we were attached to. He had been giving my coworkers and me grief for most of the deployment, as we were the black sheep of the task force, but my own company command couldn’t do too much to stop him.

One day though, he had to make a trip to another base a couple of hours away and I couldn’t help but notice that he was the only passenger.

I set my plan into motion. The morning of the flight I took out the whole row of seats between the crew chief seat and the back so he had to sit against the back wall of the cabin. I opened our cabin doors and put a bungee cord on them so they couldn’t shut. I then only left one seat down so he had no choice but to sit there.

It was a very specific seat, affectionately known as the hurricane seat. What followed was the longest 2-hour flight of this man’s life. It’s like being strapped to a chair in a wind tunnel for hours on end (I know because I’ve sat there before.) I looked back to check up on him throughout the flight and all I received was death glares in return. After we dropped him off, the pilots and I had a good laugh about the whole thing and went on our way. Never had too much trouble from that guy after that.”

14 points (14 votes)
Post

User Image
grca 2 weeks ago
I yelled at my Lt going 60 mph on the autobahn, what's he to do, get out?
3 Reply

16. This Is How My Biology Teacher Got Fired

Pexels

“I was super into biology, as I was planning on going into healthcare for my career. It was a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. When I was in grade 11, I was in a biology class with about 25 other students. My teacher was the worst – whatever she spoke to us about in class never came up on the exams, and she was generally just very aloof and never answered any questions that we had.

She reached out to my parents and told them that I wasn’t going to pass the course and I wouldn’t get into healthcare. I clearly remember one instance where we had a practice exam the day before the actual exam, and I aced it, but somehow I failed the actual exam. This is where I became suspicious and began looking into details on where I actually lost marks and noticed that she was taking off marks for things that would not even be called errors in university.

The girl next to me was also failing the course (let’s call her Ariel) and she and I would often compare notes and study together. When Ariel and I both began failing exams, we gave our exams to her parents – two professors of biology at our local university.

When Ariel’s parents saw that our biology teacher was taking marks off for unnecessary things, they were livid.

They knew that Ariel and I were both very hard working and they themselves would help us with anything that we had issues with. Ariel’s parents went straight to the principal and complained about the teacher, saying that they were shocked to see that Ariel and I were failing when they knew that we knew our stuff for the course. The principal called us down and tested us on our knowledge on a few questions to see if it was true.

Once the principal realized that we did know our content, we were sent back to our class.

A few weeks later, Ariel’s mom told me that she followed up with the principal since she was worried about how many children this was happening to, especially since these marks do go to university. The principal audited one of the biology teacher’s biology classes and audited the exams after the biology teacher finished marking it, as per Ariel’s parent’s request.

It was found that the biology teacher had favoritism towards individuals of her own race, and was purposely reducing marks for those who were not of her own race. Racial discrimination is a huge no-no, and she was promptly fired.

I ran into the biology teacher a year after (when I was in grade 12), and asked her what she was doing now. She said she was ‘finding herself’. As for me – I ended up finishing a Master’s degree in Public Health, and am super involved in research, just like Ariel’s parents.”

11 points (11 votes)
Post


15. Entitled Kid Got Suspended Because I Let Him Copy Off Me

Pexels

“This story occurred during my primary school, about 12 years ago when I was in the 4th grade, but do I remember this one so clearly.

You’re thinking that Sam is probably not entitled and just took a peek just once. You are definitely, absolutely WRONG as this kid would copy off of everyone during every single one of his tests and get good grades. Our complaints about Sam were ignored as we were just kids.

Thus, Mr. T had no idea that he was lying and he was one of T’s and other teacher’s favorites. One thing about my class is that we had alternating seating every week so we would change where we would sit randomly.

This particular week, Sam was sitting directly on my right and I thought I was just unlucky but I shrugged it off and wanted that week to be over with.

I also had a test that week for the subject that T taught, maths. The ones next to Sam were annoyed as he would just copy and get good grades so we just dealt with it.

Enter the test:

Fast forward to the test and Sam was looking at my paper (I was just an average joe with grades around the B range in math) so I did what everyone else was doing, blocking Sam’s view with my body, arm, etc.

Then Sam had the nerve to say I tried to copy off him and I was given a warning (since I only tried). Okay bud, time for the counterattack.

The thing is I am like a crow: cold, calculating, always on thinking, looking for an opportunity. After watching the best anime and cartoons about ‘out of the world’ comebacks, I weighed my options and did what any hero would do, give leeway and let him copy off me as much as he wanted.

At the end of the test, T reminded everyone that since we were starting to use pens this week we would have to write our answers in pen if we wanted marks (This just happened to be the week where we started to use pens instead of pencils to teach us to make fewer mistakes). At this point I blurt out ‘thank you for reminding me, I would have received a zero even if I am good in math.’ T, Sam, and a couple of my classmates looked confused.

I erased and wrote my answers in pen and submitted the paper, this meant that I was one of the last people to give my test. A few of my classmates later came up to ask if I was feeling alright as I never lie and I would’ve known that we needed to write with a pen. All I said was ‘never been better.’ At this point everyone was confused.

If you are wondering where was the revenge, it’s coming.

The day we get our results:

My strange antics were long forgotten a few days later when we got our results. Since I had submitted my paper closer to the end, I got mine before Sam. Now the conversation:

Sam: What did you get?

OP: Just a B

Sam: Well I’m sure I would get as much as you.

At this point, he goes to get his paper.

T: I’m sorry Sam, you should have told me if you were not feeling well.

Sam just looks at T and comes back next to me, turns the page, and sees he got a big fat 0. Everything he copied from me was incorrect. He then gets up and starts screaming.

Sam: How did I get a 0…

T (cutting Sam off): You should’ve just said you were not feeling well.

Sam: No, I COPIED everything from OP so he should also get a 0.

Everyone is shocked as he just admitted that he copied off me.

T: Could you repeat that?

Sam: I COPIED everything from OP, so he should have a zero as well, how did he get a B?

T: You do realize what you just said right?

Sam, just realizing what he said: I know, I don’t care, no one was nice enough to let me copy so I copied from OP.

Now give him a 0 too as he was the one who copied too.

OP: If I can copy someone from a mile away doing weird mumbo jumbo maths (4th grader talk for calculus) from the window, then yeah.

Sam: How did I get a 0 in the first place?

T, confused: Yeah, explain how someone so quiet and shy managed to give one of the top students a 0? (realizing that Sam may not be a bright scholar).

OP: Simple, he copied the wrong answers.

At this point everyone is confused.

T: How exactly?

OP: I did my calculations, purposefully wrote down wrong answers in pencil and he copied it in pen. In the end, I just erased and wrote the correct answers when Sam went to give his paper.

The class is on the floor laughing, T and Sam have their mouths open. They didn’t say anything after that.

The next day, I got called to the principal’s office, I wondered why. Apparently, Sam was suspended and T was given a warning along with all the teachers who taught my class. So when T and Sam were screaming at me, a few teachers were outside to see what was going on and heard everything. They later reported what Sam did. The principal thanked me as he didn’t trust Sam and he didn’t have proof and offered me a lollipop for my cunning plan. I bargained and got 3.

Saved the last one when Sam was back and ate it in front of him, slowly.”

10 points (12 votes)
Post


14. Bully Me For Months? I'll Hit You Where It Hurts The Most, Literally

Pexels

“For as long as I can remember, I had a habit of bottling up my emotions. My single father is a staunch believer in traditional masculinity, including the idea that men and boys shouldn’t cry. By my early to mid-teens, I succumbed to this outdated idea and accepted my fate as a quiet, stoic drone that just took orders, respected authority, and did hard work (especially manual labor.)

Enter my high school, which had a huge problem with bullying.

The worst kids by far were the trashy kids from the inner city who targeted anybody they considered weaker than them. I was a pretty muscular 15-year-old, but that didn’t stop them from saying things like ‘Dude, you’re so fat,’ or ‘what’s the matter, fattie? Lose your Twinkies on the way over?’ In class, it was mostly petty annoyance: taking my pencil, sticking gum in my hair, insults.

They got physical when the teachers weren’t looking. Tripping me in the hall and pretending it was an accident; slamming my head against the locker, hitting me with footballs or soccer balls, and saying a fake ‘whoops, sorry!’ By themselves, it didn’t seem that bad, but enough grains of sand add up to a huge pile, and, at that point, I was up to my waist in it.

Of course, the school didn’t do anything about it. Teachers would either tell me ‘I’ll take care of it,’ and then nothing ever changed, or I’d get something stupid like ‘I didn’t see it. There’s nothing I can do’ or ‘You know, if I stopped class every time a kid was acting up, we’d never get anything done.’ Sure, and if a tree falls in the forest, it didn’t make a sound because you didn’t hear it.

My father wasn’t any help either. He’d tell me things like ‘there’s gonna be people like that everywhere you go,’ or ‘if you’re crying about this, you’ll never make it in life,’ basically telling me to go suck it up because there are worse things out there. As a kid, I was hurt by this, but I was 15, so my self-esteem had been run over by a Combine a few times by now.

For months, I just kept ignoring and waiting, hoping my teachers would keep their word about dealing with this problem. Sadly, it seemed they’d rather prioritize pep rallies and Career Aptitude Tests than do their job in keeping kids safe.

By around Spring, I’d had enough. By now, my sadness and annoyance had transmuted into boiling rage that I’d been keeping in me for far too long.

If nobody was going to fight for me, I’d do it for myself, literally. I devoted the majority of my weekend to prepping for a showdown on Monday.

One of the few good things about my father is how knowledgeable he is in self-defense. He believed it was important for a man to learn to fight, so he had me take several different kinds of martial art classes.

The problem here is that I’m not fighting against another student or in a monitored match; I’m up against a bunch of dudes who’d likely tear me a new one before I could try doing any high kicks or even just a basic takedown. I wanted to learn to fight as if I was up against multiple enemies at once. I then researched Krav Maga, a branch of martial arts that’s basically a military-style form of self-defense, meant to train you how to fight if you were ever in danger in the real world.

No rules, no balanced teams, no referees; just you and your need for survival. One of the components of Krav Maga is knowing the body’s biggest ‘weak spots,’ ones that maximize the most amount of pain when hurt. Things like the groin, toes, and eyes were obvious, but you could also hit the knees, solar plexus, and even the spine. Since my classes didn’t teach Krav Maga (you had to be 16 at the time,) I watched many online videos, making mental notes of the techniques used.

I was still an amateur, but at least I had a plan in mind instead of just randomly throwing punches and kicks. It was almost always the same kid or group of kids that bullied me, so I already knew what they looked like, and, more importantly, where to strike.

On Monday, I waited for the next chance to come for the bullies to attack. To my surprise, they kept quiet for the most part.

Maybe this was one of my lucky days where I’d actually get some work done. Then, while I was crunching for an exam during lunch, one of the bullies, a regular, spilled my water all over my textbook, and said, ‘Whoops, sorry!’ As he and his pals started walking away laughing, I got a good look at the back of the guy’s neck. I raised my fist, aiming for the middle where I thought I’d hit the spinal column

WHAM! I knocked the guy over to the ground.

That’s when it got crazy. His friends tried tackling me away, and I tried remembering to hit all their weak points: eyes, throat, groin, solar plexus. It was a sloppy attempt at Krav Maga given my inexperience, and the other kids trying to fight back, but whichever punches and kicks I did land were definitely effective. Of course, I didn’t come out unscathed. The other kids noticed us fighting, with some going to get a teacher while others watched in a mix of shock and excitement.

Eventually, the principal and a few other teachers pulled us apart. After our injuries were treated, we were sent to the principal’s office.

The principal talked with us individually while the assistant principal called all our parents. When it was my turn, I explained what happened. At some point, the principal said, ‘Why didn’t you tell the teacher?’ At that moment, I just snapped, somehow managing to sound even angrier than when I was fighting a few minutes ago.

‘I ALREADY TOLD THE DAMNED TEACHERS, LIKE A MILLION TIMES, BUT NOBODY WAS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT! NOBODY! YOU TELL ME OVER AND OVER ‘I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT, I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT,’ BUT NOBODY EVER DOES! I WOULDN’T HAVE FELT LIKE I HAD TO DO THIS IF SOMEBODY HERE ACTUALLY DID THEIR DAMNED JOB FOR ONCE!’ We were all suspended for 2 weeks for the fighting, but I got an extra week for yelling at the principal.

Much to my surprise, my father was rather quiet about the whole thing. Normally, my father had the temperament of a dragon, but maybe this whole fight touched his inner ‘macho man’ that made him go easier on me.

On the car ride home, he said calmly, but firmly, ‘What happened? And tell me the truth.’ I told him, ‘They wouldn’t stop picking on me, so I defended myself.’ I waited to hear my father make some snide remark about hurt feelings, but he just said, ‘Were you in danger?’ I paused for a moment, and said, ‘…Yes.’ I knew I was exaggerating, but maybe this could open my father’s eyes to see how much I was hurting.

He was quiet for a minute and then said, ‘I can’t judge on your situation ’cause I wasn’t there, but it’s in a boy’s nature to be aggressive sometimes, and it sounds like those bullies were just using it for harm. I also know you well enough to know you wouldn’t lay a finger on somebody unless you felt like you had to.’ I nodded, holding back tears.

‘Next time you’re ever in that kinda danger, call me. Don’t wait for the teachers to fail you again. I’ll give ’em trouble.’ I was stunned, and, once I realized what’d just happened, I smiled. That’s one of the few redeeming qualities about my father. As toxic and narcissistic as he was, he was an expert on bringing vengeance to those who deserved it.

During my suspension, one of the bullies’ parents wanted to press assault charges on me, but my father threatened to counter-sue the school AND the parents for letting the bullying go on for so long.

Thankfully, nobody had to go to court as the bullies’ credibility sank faster than the Titanic. Once word got around that I fought back to stop the bullying (rather than the strong, quiet guy going psycho,) more kids decided to come forward to the principal about their experience being bullied, too, and how they also went to the teachers for help. This included a few girls who were being harassed by these kids.

This was a PR nightmare for the school that left a permanent stain on its reputation among the locals. In the end, the bullies got expelled, some faced charges for harassment, and I got transferred to a different high school. I guess I’m a little proud that I inspired some other troubled kids to come forward, but I really didn’t like violence. I’m built for self-defense, but I don’t like hurting anybody unless it’s to protect those I love. I would’ve much preferred if teachers actually did their job, and ‘took care of it’ before I had to.

I did get a gift certificate for summer classes in Krav Maga for my Sweet 16. Thankfully, I’ve never had to use it yet.”

10 points (10 votes)
Post


13. Dad Saved The Day

Pexels

“Basically, I (then 14F) studied in a private Christian school while I was growing up. It was extremely professional (uniforms, morning mass, etc, etc).

My homeroom teacher was pregnant and had to leave her job to take care of herself and her child to be, but in her place, I guess they had to hire the quickest substitute teacher they could find. And they found an old lady called Miss Irene.

Now, this is where the fun starts.

Miss Irene was HORRIBLE. She would constantly belittle kids and take forever to teach the simplest things. When she first started teaching, we thought she was okay but then she would spend 20 minutes of a 45-minute class every day just shouting or scolding us for not being quiet or attentive enough in her class. This would sometimes give her less than 15 minutes a day to teach.

(However, no other teacher had these complaints and we felt like she was being harder on us because she was our homeroom teacher.)

Well as it turns out, RING-A-DING-DING! because of all her constant scolding during class hours she used to waste precious school time, she ended up not finishing her syllabus in time. (basically, they had to teach a certain amount of textbook stuff every week and people kept track of it).

Anyways, she realized that she was behind on her teachings by A LOT, so apart from taking up all our P.E and free classes, she also called for an ‘extra class’ which were basically classes held on Saturdays for only those who were behind in class, which meant only the 45 or so students which were in my class. As a kid, no one wanted to spend a holiday coming to school for 2 hours so this was a huge irritation.

Well, obviously none of the kids liked her very much because she was constantly rude so (and this was totally unplanned) no one attended her Saturday extra lecture. Surprise surprise.

When we all walk into school the next Monday, Miss irene is staring daggers at every student. Then without a word, she asked us all to line up and took all 45 of us to the principal’s office.

Where (obviously) no one listened to our complaints about her being a bad teacher so our principal decided that the best way to punish us would be to make us stand in the hallways of the school until our first lecture (which was an hour away) and that’s what we did. We couldn’t really argue, we were kids who didn’t know any better so we stood there silently for an hour (I think 2 kids fainted too).

Afterward, when I went home, and I told my parents this, my dad was FUMING. He immediately wrote a very stern letter to the principal asking how he dare try to give corporal punishment to children.

However, before his letter could even reach the principal through the post, Miss Irene was at it again. And this time, she particularly targeted me. I’m not sure why she targeted me specifically but I was a straight-A student.

Always top 3 in academics and all the other teachers knew me well too! But this is the bit that got her fired…..

So a few days after this ‘incident’ I needed to go to the library to work on a project. We had a free lecture every morning for extracurricular activities but only if you had written permission from the teacher to leave the class.

So I asked her as kindly as I could and she happily obliged and wrote me permission to visit the library which was just a floor up.

Well, my school had 2 libraries, one for kids below 10 (junior) and one for above 10 (senior) with more advanced novels and encyclopedias. So that’s where I went. Considering that the two library doors are less than 5 feet apart, I was constantly jumping from one room to the other and helping out the librarians and taking reference books from both places, and borrowing paper/glue/staplers, etc from either library.

(The librarians knew I had a project and we were allowed to do this, by the way.)

Randomly, my friend walks into the library and tells me that I urgently need to go back to class because Miss Irene was looking for me. So I rush back and this lady GOES NUTS. She starts scolding me in front of the class about how I am a bad student who was running around the school and strolling/loitering through the halls and how I lied to her about where I was going to be or what project I was going to do.

So I tried to explain to her as calmly as possible that I was in the 10+ Senior library as I should have been and she could ask the librarian to confirm.

‘SENIOR LIBRARY??? YOU LIED TO ME! YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO BE IN THE JUNIOR LIBRARY!’

‘Ma’am, no I did not. I’m clearly above 10 years old so I was in the senior library.

They’re right next to each other you could have just checked.’

That was enough to make her think I was a bad egg and she wrote a letter to my parents asking them to meet her for ‘corrective behavior’. Once again, when I showed the letter to my dad he was totally on my side. He heard what I had to say and told me not to worry and that he would handle it.

He sent her note right back (through me) the next day and wrote, ‘I have already written a letter to the principal concerning you. I shall wait for a meeting with all of us together.’

I guess this annoyed her but she tried to maintain her cool and silently handed the letter back to me.

Later the next day, I guess I forgot my textbook and she decided it would be a perfect time to write me up, so she took my book and began writing a corrective note to my parents about how I forgot my textbook and THEN THREW MY BOOK ON THE FLOOR, INFRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS AND I HAD TO SILENTLY PICK IT UP AND RETURN TO MY SEAT.

NEEDLESS TO SAY, I WAS ANGRY, EMBARRASSED, AND SUPER CLOSE TO CRYING. I WAS A STRAIGHT A KID, NO PROBLEMS, NO DETENTIONS, STAR KID SO THAT HURT, YA KNOW? My parents always raised me to be kind and proud and take nothing from anyone if you’ve done nothing wrong but this lady was really hurting my feelings here.

ANYWAYS, once again when my hero dad heard about this bullying from a teacher he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He tries to be patient with these things but when I came home crying, he couldn’t take it anymore.

HE WAS MAD AND OUT FOR REVENGE. SO HE IMMEDIATELY CALLED FOR A MEETING WITH THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF OUR SCHOOL AND OUR PRINCIPAL AND DEMANDED THAT THEY FIRE HER IMMEDIATELY. Lucky for all of us, he didn’t have to go full rage mode on them cause it seems that Miss irene had similar complaints from other students and surprisingly other teachers as well. She just didn’t fit in the teacher role and was fired 2 days later. She didn’t speak to me at all for those 2 days and she worked at our school for less than 2 months.”

10 points (12 votes)
Post

User Image
cijo 1 week ago
Bad teachers can scar a child for life.
0 Reply

12. Techer Didn't Want To Teach So The Kids Taught Her

Pexels

“When I was going into my second to last year at school a new art teacher joined (I’ll call her miss D). She was only about 24/25 and as far as we knew she hadn’t taught before, so that didn’t exactly fill the art kids with confidence. She taught a class of 8, and every other week they would be complaining that she had either fallen asleep halfway through a double lesson or been too hungover to teach.

They were being set a 30-minute task, completing the task, then get told off for waking her up. After a while, they complained to the head, but he refused to listen to them, stating that he personally knew she was an ‘excellent’ teacher. These guys weren’t passing so long as miss D was ‘teaching’ them.

When the students got their autumn reviews, they were furious at how low the art results were, and Miss D had the gall to say it was the kids who weren’t working hard enough.

That was the last straw.

After Christmas, miss D did the standard routine of setting the kids a task than falling asleep, but this time they weren’t having it. They took some glue (the proper kind you’d use for woodwork or graphics) and stuck her hair and the side of her face to a table. When she woke up she cried, ripping chunks of her hair out while calling the kids (words I shouldn’t say). After about 30 minutes the art technician came in and saw what was going on. All the kids were suspended and had to give a formal apology to miss D. She left soon after, and the art kids got someone who could actually teach.”

9 points (9 votes)
Post


11. Try To Flunk Me Out During A Family Death? Kiss Your Career Goodbye

Pexels

“It was 2012 and I was in the height of my college enjoyment. I was living with my grandparents after a bad car accident that knocked some sense into my crazy life, and I was working hard to make my family proud and gain some traction under my feet. Having always gravitated toward art, I chose this as my major and pursued it with flying colors.

I was consecutively making the dean’s list, staying home instead of going out, and soaking up every bit of knowledge I could to protect and ensure the success of my future. I was even taking summer classes to graduate early, knowing the sooner I could get out of school, the faster I could start my budding career. It was all peachy keen until a new teacher was hired in the art department, we will call him Mr.

Thin, as he was a tall, thin, sort of gangly type with thick-rimmed glasses. All good right? Excited to meet someone new who could teach me new things.

Except Mr. Thin was not exactly the friendly type. In fact, I couldn’t understand why he had gotten into teaching as I had tried to warm up to him a couple of times and got nothing but frozen shoulders.

No one could get close to him. He made awful jokes in the classroom, and it was clear he had some serious insecurities. His inability to cope with his own issues came out in weird ways, lashing out at students not doing what they were supposed to, him making fun of and examples out of students not properly following instructions he had given with poor verbal direction, and ultimately making everyone feel sort of uncomfortable in his presence.

We all did the best that we could to try and cope with it when going to class with him, and stayed focused on the ultimate goal; learning new techniques, and getting a passing grade.

I had already had a Printmaking class with this teacher and knew what he was like. By this time my grandmother’s illness was getting progressively worse, fast. (It didn’t help she was misdiagnosed and given the wrong treatment.

And she was the pinnacle that kept our large family together – thanksgiving always at her house, every year, traditionally being the binding factor that kept us all connected and grounded.) She, unfortunately, was in and out of the hospital, chemo, and nothing seemed to be going right. I remember the silence coming over her slightly as she accepted her fate.

As such, I missed a few days of school here and there to help my grandfather take care of her and make sure she was okay during his time working at the office (he hasn’t retired, and I’m not sure he will).

I did my best, and most of my teachers were lenient knowing full well the scope of my situation. I had even written a letter to Mr. Thin expressing our family’s woes and my commitment to continue my learning track though I was not physically present.

Unfortunately, as I was scheduled to take a graphic design class as part of my required classes, I was grouped with Mr.

Thin again as the teacher, something I wasn’t exactly looking forward to as I got no response from my letter. But I would do my best trying to focus on my education while my grandmother was slowly dying. Again, he made extremely uncomfortable jokes and made kids feel unable to do as he had commanded. Never directly saying it, but always implying that everyone was an idiot and that he held all the knowledge – that we should all be praising him for this great opportunity bestowed upon us to learn from him.

It was grueling. Reminding him of my family situation yet again, he pressed me about my absences in class and threatened to flunk me, giving no leeway or helpful solutions whatsoever.

Eventually, I had moved out and down the street from my grandparent’s place, and one Tuesday I went to go visit them and check in on my grandpa. As I pulled up to the house, I remember walking up the front curb seeing gurney tracks in the snow, and the house was empty.

I knew this was bad – eventually I found my grandpa at the hospital and immediately joined him as he gave me the run down, we made way to her room, and family slowly joined us, day by day. I called the school to let them know what was happening, and advisors stated they understood and told me to make sure to inform my teachers so they were prepared to help.

Everyone was cool with the circumstances except – you guessed it, Mr. Thin. Unbelievably, I wrote him again to let him know the scoop, and he flat out told me I was lying, and that he expected to see me in class the next day. Mind you I had just got done sitting with the doctor and a priest, being informed these were the last moments.

I lost it. I called the school back, annoyed that I was spending this time defending myself and my family during this sensitive time, that I even had to go through this, and having these minutes taken from me as I said my final goodbyes with my grandma. Trying to keep a collected head and be reasonable with outside personnel. They took note of this and let me know they would follow up, allowing me to focus on my family.

She passed away. I grieved, I went back to school in silence. My grades took a slight dip, I stopped making the dean’s list, but made sure to pass my classes as it was still important to me even though it was all so untimely. I stopped speaking with Mr. Thin until I finally confronted him about his attitude and my situation. He defended himself by saying that (sadly) college kids apparently ‘use the dying grandma excuse all the time to get out of class.’ Saying this, mind you, without even getting to me or my situation – without asking a single question about my living situation, what hospital she was in, nothing.

Just assumed I was another lying college kid trying to get out of class. I filed a complaint and presented the death certificate and my previous USPS confirmed address (at my grandparents) with the school, stating the teacher had no right to treat me like this. I knew my case was weak, I was missing school, but I wasn’t messed up. I felt I had to do my part and say something, even if it meant I would have to go back the next year knowing he still had an office in the art building, where I spent most of my time.

Fast forward to the summer before my Junior/Senior year (remember I was doing summer classes, so was only in school for 3 years). I was out to dinner with my then-significant other and two of his good-looking guy friends. We had a nice time cracking jokes while watching the sunset over the river canyon. I lamented that this was my last summer before my schooling started for the last year, but after some time had passed, was ready to make a better effort in order to make my grandma proud from the heavens above.

We get up to leave and start walking out after paying the bill. And as we start walking through the restaurant, lo and behold I see Mr. Thin mopping the floor straight ahead in my walking path. He watches the three gentlemen in front of my head toward the exit, then locks eyes with me as I followed. I kid you not it was like a slow-motion caption, and without even realizing it, by pure habit, I just happened to slow-motion wave as I walked by, watching as he froze with the mop in his hand. Turns out his contract was not renewed for another year, and I retook my graphic design class with another teacher and passed with flying colors, graduating with a bachelor’s in arts, and going on to work for a major tech company in Data Analytics likely making more than him.”

7 points (7 votes)
Post


10. I Have Tapes As Proof

Pexels

“I suspected one of my coworkers, call him G, was two-timing his wife. Normally, I wouldn’t give a damn, because I’m not the morality police, but I considered his wife (call her J) as a friend, so I told her ‘I think your husband’s being unfaithful to you.’ Making sure to tell J that I couldn’t prove it, and I was just giving her a heads up.

Instead of being smart and checking G’s phone or doing any sort of digging for herself, J just confronted G when he got home telling G that I told J that he WAS being unfaithful. Turns out he actually was two-timing her and confessed on the spot.

So now G’s annoyed at me for exposing his dirty laundry, and J’s upset with me for telling her because ‘ignorance is bliss,’ so G tried to get me fired by faking texts between me and J (pretty sure she helped), where I confess to sleeping with one of the managers.

It’s against company policy and could have gotten both myself and the completely unwitting manager fired. G told everyone I was sleeping with this guy and that guy and he threatened to post a pic of me in lingerie online. I’d sent the pic to J, months ago asking for her opinion. It wasn’t super revealing, and yes girls do this, but still, no one wants private photos online.

He made a YouTube video threatening to ‘expose’ people at work and share nasty pics of the girls he worked with. I don’t know what pics G had of others/if he had any at all, but it was clearly aimed at me and another woman who he hated because she’d already rejected his sorry face. I found this out literally years later.

But, I turned it right around, I proved the texts to be faked, hinted that perhaps he ‘stole my phone because it was missing for a few hours at work but I hadn’t thought anything of it until now,’ turned on the waterworks about how I couldn’t ‘handle the pressure anymore.

G is constantly telling rumors about me sleeping around, it makes me feel like a dirty woman!!! He’s only mad at me because I told his wife he was being unfaithful! Like, I caught him doing things with C here at work!!!’ and for my final move I deliberately bumped my shoulder into G hard, in front of the only camera in the backroom, backing up so quickly I almost fell looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and immediately told a manager (not the one I was accused of sleeping with) that G was still being threatening and bumped into me, saying ‘I think it was an accident, but with everything else going on I thought you should know.’ He reviewed the tapes along with two other managers and everyone agreed that G hit me. So they fired G for harassment. As far as I know, G’s divorced, his other woman dumped him, and he’s living off EI in an ugly little den apartment.”

6 points (8 votes)
Post


9. Karma Comes For Evil Stepmother

Pexels

“I’m a female in my mid-twenties, currently staying with my dad. My parents got divorced when I was a baby, so my older sister and I spent most of our lives going between houses (I still do, my sister has her own life now). When I was 9, my mom remarried a wonderful guy who has been nothing but kind. My dad went out with a few people, but couldn’t seem to find the right girl.

In my junior year in high school, he brought a new girl home for dinner to meet us. Let’s call her Gothel because she’s a real witch.

The first impression, Gothel seemed to be a pleasant human being. She seemed nervous, but made conversation with us and did seem interested in getting to know my sister and me. Dinner goes well, and dad asks if it would be a good idea to have her around again.

We say sure. She continues to stick around. We go shopping, out to lunch, usual girl bonding activities. She takes an interest in who I am and what I like doing. Everyone’s happy.

Close to the end of my senior year in high school, my dad pulls me aside and tells me that he wants to propose, and he wants to know what I think. I tell him that if he really loves her, and if she makes him happy, then, by all means, marry her.

He proposes and she accepts. Everyone is happy for my dad and excited about the wedding, which was held in a beautiful botanic garden, attended by close family members. My sister and I were the bridesmaids.

Almost immediately after the wedding, things begin to go wrong. Suddenly Gothel is rude, angry, and irritable. Nothing we do seems to please her. We had a mini-party at our house a couple of days after the wedding where most of my dad’s and Gothel’s friends came to celebrate.

I mingled and made small talk with people, but it got to be late in the evening and I was tired and wanted to go to bed, so I went to say goodnight to dad and Gothel.

She got annoyed. Apparently, my wanting to go to bed was a huge insult, and I ‘could spare a few hours to celebrate (their) wedding.’ Lady, what do you think I’ve been doing this past week???? (Something I found out later is that she got super wasted and was really mean to the bartender my dad had hired, and my dad had to pay her a lot more to compensate for the horrible treatment she endured.)

Thus began a period of two years where Gothel would get extremely upset at us, we’d argue, go blow off some steam, come back all apologetic, and promise to be better.

Everything would be fine for a couple of days before it all went bad again. And these were big arguments. Any slight disagreement would be taken as disrespect. She came down hard on our appearances, our habits, things we liked, criticizing every part of our lives. I began to be relieved when it came time to go to my mom’s house since it meant I could escape her.

We tried really hard to make it work with her. We did everything we possibly could to make it better. But after several incidents, including a disastrous fourth of July and sending me a string of verbally abusive text messages, my dad kicked her out and decided to divorce her.

Knowing that Gothel would try to screw my dad over in the divorce proceedings, my dad got a good lawyer and began allocating his funds strategically so she would get less in the settlement than she would get otherwise.

Just to be petty, she dragged her feet and made the proceedings take longer. Court dates got pushed back because she didn’t show up. Suddenly, Gothel’s father died, and they settled much more quickly after that. (My dad went to the funeral, which definitely endeared him to the family more.)

But the final revenge, and the reason I’m writing this post, happened just a few days ago.

Remember how I said Gothel was verbally abusive? Well, she didn’t just attack me and my dad. She messaged a lot of people: my sister, my aunts, and uncles, my grandparents, pretty much everyone she’d met in our family. She would directly message them and put up long rants on social media about how awful we were. She did it throughout the entirety of the divorce proceedings and after.

Fast forward to three days ago. My dad comes home with a big grin on his face, saying ‘I’ve got something you need to see.’ He shows me a letter written by the CEO of the company that Gothel works for, letting his suppliers and business partners know that Gothel has been let go as the Midwest regional sales director for the company for online slander of not just the company, but of her coworkers, superiors, and the CEO himself. If they are to receive any contact from Gothel, they should ignore it and contact the CEO immediately.

Gothel has worked for this company and in her industry for decades. It’s pretty much the only thing she knows how to do. By attacking her company online, she’s ensured that she will most likely never get a job in her field ever again.”

6 points (6 votes)
Post


8. Annoying Housemate Broke My Favorite Mug

Pexels

“My partner and I lived in a shared house during my undergrad years and, for the most part, it was fine. It wasn’t a student house as we had a dog, but instead housed a variety of people in different jobs/placements, etc. Anyways all the housemates were fine enough, apart from the last couple. The vegan and her significant other. Let’s call them Sarah and Larry.

Now when they came to view, Sarah did all the chatting, was super friendly, and made it seem like we had a lot in common, so it was agreed they’d move in. At first, there was nothing wrong with them, they kept to themselves, which was fine by me. I’d just started my MA, was working part-time, doing a mentor program, and was in charge of running society at the union so I was super busy and super stressed a lot of the time.

However, it wasn’t long before Larry became the most annoying thing I’ve ever encountered (all this happened in a few short months as the landlord needed the property back for a family situation). Sarah was annoying, but more in a whiny, preachy vegan kinda way. She mostly kept to herself when she was at home, so really wasn’t much of a bother. Larry, however…

After a few weeks, my partner and I noticed they weren’t doing any cleaning, like at all, in the common areas.

So we put up a schedule that we’d used with previous housemates, where there’d be a rotation on who cleaned where (mainly switching between who cleaned the bathroom or kitchen on a given week, as we had separate living rooms). Larry put a massive line through it and wrote something along the lines of ‘Not doing this!’ across it. He refused to do any cleaning (Sarah worked, he didn’t, more on this later) so on top of everything else I was dealing with, I had to do more cleaning too.

He and Sarah stored their bikes in the kitchen too, and never once cleaned up the muck they dragged in on the wheels.

Larry would turn the heating right up (we lived in the house together in early winter) and walked around in his underwear (tighty whities). We tried to tell him our rent (one payment covered everything, but we kept the bills low so this didn’t go up) would increase as our landlord had mentioned the electricity bill going up, but he ignored us and continued.

And he made the house super warm. It was a big, airy house so he obviously had the temperature right up all the time.

Following on from that, as we had a dishwasher any time Larry wanted to clean something up, he’d put it in the dishwasher and put it on. Didn’t matter how much else was in there, he’d put the dishwasher on. I’d often open it up as it finished to find a single item in there.

His excuse was that he needed said item, so he needed to clean it. He never explained why he couldn’t just use the sink…

Larry would answer all his phone calls on the speaker. All of them. And he’d walk around the common areas having these phone calls.

I bake often and I needed a set weight of caramels for a recipe. I bought them a little in advance as they were on offer, counted out how many I’d need, and put them away in our area of the kitchen.

A few days later more than half were missing. Larry denied it but he had wrappers in his pockets the next time he did washing. Not the worst food-stealing offense I know, but very frustrating when I was literally halfway through baking and realized I was more than half my caramel short.

Larry didn’t work. Or rather in the few months we lived together he had perhaps 10 jobs? Each lasted a day or so, and it was obvious he lost them all due to his constant smoking.

Yet he still had plenty of cash and was probably dealing substances out of the house, we were just never able to catch him. This led to some really bizarre arguments with Sarah. Not about the lack of a job, but all the pointless things he’d buy her that she didn’t want at all. Bikes, phones, telescopes… Every week it was something new and equally unwanted.

He tried to use an old satellite dish to get free cable (maybe if he didn’t keep buying Sarah pointless things, he’d be able to afford it). He pretty much had no idea what he was doing, almost electrocuted himself, and tried to run wires across our bedroom window to do this.

Larry would often have friends over. Constantly in fact. Usually only one or two, but often more.

At Christmas, just after our landlord had informed us we’d have to move out (as I mentioned, family situation, she needed the house back) he and Sarah had a massive dinner party. My partner and I were with family and when we came back, we found they’d used all our plates/cups/cutlery, etc as they didn’t have enough of their own. They loaded up all their stuff into the dishwasher and cleaned it, but just left ours on the side.

When we questioned Larry about it, he stated it was our stuff so our responsibility to clean. How they couldn’t just put it in the dishwasher I do not know.

On one occasion I didn’t take my and my partner’s stuff out of the dishwasher right after it finished a cycle, so Larry decided to do it for me. He smashed my favorite mug, left it on the side for me to find, refused to apologize for breaking it (nor offer to replace it), and said it was my fault for putting it in the dishwasher (?).

Apparently, he desperately needed to clean a plate and fork and so needed to use the dishwasher.

Now, as I said, all this happened in a very short space of time. Just a few months. Plenty more happened but these were the things that came to mind as I typed. I was just so busy at the time that dealing with it head-on wasn’t an option, and Larry just gave no damn so trying to talk with and reason with him got you nowhere.

All of his antics were just adding a lot of stress onto my already very stressful life and I needed to do something, just a little something, to make myself feel better.

I started by pouring saltwater into his house plants every time he annoyed me (often). He stupidly put them in a common area and it wasn’t long before they died.

As my partner and I moved out way before Sarah and Larry (our landlord gave us months of warning, but we moved out straight away as we didn’t want to leave it and risk not finding somewhere), I reported him for dealing and for trying to illegally hook up cable.

Sadly nothing came of this, but I also sent him a butt-load of annoying free catalogs and religious letters using a fake email, knowing he’d still be at the house for a few more weeks.

He kept sticking ‘West Ham’ stickers up all over the house, as this was his team and he felt that was his right. I pulled them down as quickly as he could put them up.

Speaking of West Ham, his West Ham cup was his favorite. He used it EVERY day and was often one of the singular items he’d clean in the dishwasher. As my partner and I were moving into our new place, I took an opportunity to pinch it while he was out. Our new home (not a shared place, thankfully) was just down the road, and I was moving boxes down there that day, going back and forth.

I took the cup with me and used a hammer to very carefully smash the cup in the same way mine had been smashed (handle off, big holes where it’d once been) and then I returned it to the dishwasher where I’d found it, the main part in the top and the handle down below the bottom rack so it looked as though it had broken in the dishwasher.

I made sure to throw away a few smaller pieces that had broken away so he couldn’t glue them back together. I happened to be there when he returned and went to empty the dishwasher. The look on his face was priceless. He looked straight at me but didn’t say a word because he knew he couldn’t prove a damn thing. He had no chance for any revenge of his own, we were fully moved out by the next day.”

5 points (5 votes)
Post


7. She Lost Her Friends, Her Man, And Her Reputation

Pexels

“18 years ago (2002) my older brother and I got our first jobs at ages 12 & 13, normally child labor laws would come in play but it was a volunteer gig for selling soda at a stadium so the laws weren’t valid.

I was 4 feet tall (short for my age) and carrying 16 cups of soda in a rack and a lot of people in the stadium were buying from me cause they thought I was cute being a big man for my age.

Selling at least 8 racks a game I was making at least $150 in tips and commission but my bro who worked with me had us combine and split our earnings so I was getting screwed until I said I didn’t want to anymore.

Fast forward 2 games and I was still bringing home $150+ and to me, I felt like I was an adult bringing home bank after only 3 hours of work.

I would walk to the little store in my town and buy pizza and sodas cause that was a king’s meal back then I thought lol. It was then I met my ex, Shelly, and we hooked up after walking together for a week and got to know each other and she kissed my cheek. I was love-struck, damn you cupid. We were together for a month, hung out, fished, biked, and did other things together, and back then cash was tight for my parents so they would borrow $ for gas which my brother and I were happy to do since we were making a lot.

However, I started seeing I was missing more and more and I asked my parents if they took any more and they didn’t. They blamed my brother and tried to punish him but I stopped them.

My Friend C-dog (nickname) was my only guy friend in the neighborhood cause we attended different schools. He told me Shelly was two-timing me and was probably the one who was stealing my hard-earned coin.

At first, I didn’t believe him but he had no reason to lie so I asked for proof; he took me to the top of the hill that overlooks the park, and with high powered binoculars I saw her there kissing another guy and eating food paid for with my cash. To say I was upset would be accurate for a 12-year-old but this just proved she was two-timing me, not stealing, so the following Sunday after Thanksgiving I set a trap.

We had walked together and I asked her if there were guys at school she liked and she kissed my cheek again and said ‘you’re the only one I really like and who’s nice to me.’ Yeah, nice enough to let me steal from you I thought. We walked to my home just before it started to pour hard outside and watched some Gargoyles when she started to hold my hand.

I said I had to go to the bathroom and I set my wallet on my nightstand – all $260 in it that I made from the day before (fans were very thankful/generous).

I walked out and left the door open a crack, walked to the bathroom 5 steps away and closed the door, counted to 3 and tip-toed back, peeked through the crack, and saw Shelly going through my wallet grabbing the $50 and $20 bills I had.

I opened the door before she was about to pocket it and said Lord Raiden style ‘ah ah, I don’t think so ha ha ha.’ Then with an angry face, I took the money from her, and while she tried to explain I walked her by hand to the front door, opened it, and pushed her gently out in the POURING RAIN. She asked me if she could at least call her parents since she lived over a mile away and I said ‘no you stole over $130 from me the last month we were together.

You can walk home,’ and slammed the door on her.

Some of her friends had heard about what I did and when asked I told them she was playing me and using me for my $. They knew she had borrowed cash from them and had not paid them back but lately had done so obviously with my own $. They tried to give it back and I said I didn’t want to take it from them even if the cash belongs to me. They need it more. Her friends didn’t talk to her again, her guy left her & my parents never found out till a month later but in the end, I won.”

5 points (5 votes)
Post


6. Sherriff's Office Gets Owned

Pexels

“Some years ago I was living in Sydney Australia, sharing a flat with my then significant other who had problems managing his cash. He’d taken out some store credit cards, run them up to the max, borrowed cash to pay off the cards, then run the cards up again. In total, he owed AUD$32,000. I was earning reasonably, but not sufficient to pay off his cards.

In desperation, he asked his parents to send him a one-way ticket to the US where they lived. So, one day he walked out of my life and left me with the flat, the debts, and everything. Soon after, debt collectors started coming around, trying to hassle me to pay the debts.

They became more frequent to the extent that they were coming around every night, sometimes two or three debt collectors at a time.

So, I did some research and found that when someone gets themselves so into debt that they are drowning in repayments that far exceed their salary, it is possible to declare bankruptcy and have your wages garnished slowly to pay off the debts if your salary is over a certain amount. So, I got the forms, filled them out, and posted them to the ex, telling him that it was incredibly important that he sign them and send them back to me.

He did so and I received the forms back and lodged them with the Bankruptcy Commission, which sent me a letter of acknowledgment confirming that he was now an undischarged bankrupt.

Meanwhile, the companies to which he owed cash had moved to lodge proceedings in court to recover the debt. So, a couple of weeks later the Sheriff’s Office turned up one Saturday morning to take away all his stuff as payment for the debts.

Now the Sheriff’s Office in Australia is slightly different than in the US. Mostly here in Oz, the main job of the Sheriff’s Office is to take action against people who do not comply with debt-related court orders. So they turned up with a truck, ready to remove all my ex’s stuff. They entered the house and started removing everything, including my stuff. When they went for my computer, I said that it was mine and showed them which stuff was mine.

They told me to get lost and they were going to take everything. I asked them how I was supposed to get my stuff back and they said that it was unlikely that I would get it back as I couldn’t prove what was mine unless I had receipts. I was told not to interfere or they would handcuff me and march me off to a police station.

So, they removed everything and the flat was completely bare. I waited until they had loaded everything in the truck, then just as they were about to close up the truck I ran outside, holding the bankruptcy papers in my hand, and said ‘You realize that he has declared bankruptcy.’ Ha! Once I said the magic word ‘Bankruptcy’ they knew that they couldn’t do anything and had to return everything.

So, they carried it all into the flat again and I took great delight in saying, put this over here and put that over there, and here are the cables for you to plug the computer back in again. I made them put everything back exactly as it was because they knew that if they messed anything up I could lodge a formal complaint about unprofessional behavior and harassment. Suffice to say, I got to keep everything and I worked my way through selling my ex’s stuff and paid off some of his debts, then moved out.”

5 points (5 votes)
Post


5. He Won't Do His Job And Tells Me I Have An Attidue

Pexels

“This happened when I was 19. My sister is 10 years older than me, and I moved in with her for a few months before getting myself together, moving out, and getting married.

I had a pretty laid-back job. I worked at a furniture factory and worked in inventory management. My biggest job was to track loss. We had a series of computers throughout the factory that would track each pallet.

Every time it hit a different machine in the sawmill, it would get counted, and scanned into the computer system with said count. Once it hit production, it was scanned again, and from then on I was responsible for counting all the pallets every morning. When production used a pallet, I had to count the pallet they were using, but they would count the finished pieces as well as any wood they COULDN’T USE.

They were supposed to keep track of this throughout the day, then give me the numbers, which I would then input into a special spreadsheet my boss and I had designed to keep count. This however caused a problem

The manager would give me the numbers 30-60 minutes before the end of the day, but then keep his people working. That meant I had to input the numbers at the end of the day, come back in the morning, and re-do the numbers as they counted what they had used that last hour.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Just entering and re-entering numbers on a spreadsheet, but I HATE re-doing work when it could be easily done correctly the first time. I asked the supervisor to do the count at the end of the day, but they kept just doing it 30-60 minutes (usually 60) beforehand. One day, I was talking with the Production manager, and politely asked him to have his guys do the count at the end of the day.

For some reason, he got SUPER heated about my request and told me to stick to my job and let him manage his people. He then went to my manager AND my brother-in-law. That is where he messed up.

My brother-in-law was EVERYONE’s boss. The only people who are higher at the company were the owners and they deferred to him on a lot of matters because he had done a lot of good for them.

So this department manager talked to my brother-in-law about me because he wanted me ‘put in my place.’ I only worked there because of BIL, and because I also lived with him and my sister at the time, we commuted to work together every day. The blow-up happened about an hour before the end of the shift, and the manager must have talked to BIL after that because, on the way home, my BIL asked me why I was being rude to the production manager.

I was flabbergasted at that comment, but apparently, the PM said I had an ‘attitude issue’ that needed to be addressed. I spent an hour talking with my brother-in-law about my ‘attitude issue.’ It started as a reprimand and coaching/teaching section (I used to think he was a good man and mentor. Not so much anymore, but that’s another story. At this time, he was teaching me how to be a man, and do good at work.

Lessons I still use. Even if he is not the kind man we all thought he was, he is still a fantastic boss and businessman.), but turned into an impromptu efficiency meeting.

I asked how come it was that I had an attitude simply for asking them to do their job correctly. He asked me what I meant by that. I explained the situation, and we spent the next hour going over things the production managers did, or let their people do, that made more work for me, could be easily fixed, but wasn’t, and for seemingly no reason.

By the end of the hour-long car ride home, he had given me only one reprimand (if I have an issue, take it up with my chain of command, don’t get into fights with managers in other departments. Let my manager or him do that.), and told me he’d take care of it. I didn’t know what he meant by that.

The next day I get to work and am brought into a meeting with BIL, my manager, and the production manager.

I am asked to apologize for my ‘attitude’ which I did because my BIL asked me to do so. The production manager was then given an option. His people could either re-do the inputs in the morning or wait to give me the count at the end of the day. Completely their choice. After some back and forth, and a bit of stink about having the stuff to do at the end of the day, he landed on ‘input is his (me) job, not ours,’ and got shut down by my BIL.

We left the meeting with the manager saying he’d let us know what he wanted to do. (Another of his complaints was that if they gave me the numbers at the end of the day, I’d have to stay later to input said numbers. Jokes on him, I usually stayed late anyway seeing as how my BIL was my ride, and he didn’t leave until almost everyone else did.)

Later that day I found out what he wanted to do.

He had his people give me the counts early. I thought ‘sweet’ and did my inputs and went about my business… sneaky business. The next morning, I came in and got straight to my tasks instead of re-doing my count because he was doing it. Something must have been difficult for him because he asked me for help with the recount as he couldn’t figure out why Excel wasn’t working the way he thought it should.

Columns and rows weren’t adding correctly, his numbers were getting deleted, etc. I ‘helped’ and input a couple of numbers correctly after ‘fixing’ it, but every time he did the next line of input, it would mess up. That’s when I casually and jokingly dropped the line from the day before, ‘Wow, this thing doesn’t like you, I guess input is my job and not yours. (slight chuckle)’

That afternoon, they waited until the end of the day to give me the total count.”

5 points (5 votes)
Post


4. Taught Arrogant Jerk A Lesson That's Hard To Forget

Pexels

“I am very big for my age. 6,5 and I just turned 16. I am also built like a rugby player. (I live in AUS)

I play 2 sports, basketball and Australian rules, more commonly known as AFL. I started off not being very good at AFL because I didn’t know how to use my size but I quickly learned and now I play for the second-highest grade in domestic completion, hopefully moving to the top soon.

There is this kid at my school. Let’s call him Chad, he is the biggest jerk that one can be when it comes to sport and just in general being a human being.

All he has in his life is football and nothing else, his average grade score is 8 out of 50 in the lowest class for maths, he failed every language test this year and openly brags about it, he says that since he’ll be a footballer he doesn’t need it.

(what a joke). His overall average grade is a low D that barely passes the year.

Despite this, he thinks he is superior and constantly insults me for just enjoying sports. An example is when we were on the basketball court and one of my friends got punched in the face.

He said, ‘Suck it up to you idiot,’ and many other insults at the kid.

This happens a lot with him so I snapped and told him to go stick a sock in his mouth and shut up.

He then walks up to me and tries to fight me. (He’s 5-5,10 maybe)

I just pushed him away and said, ‘If you are that hollow in the skull then let’s go.’

I walk into the middle of the basketball court and throw him the ball. His ego flares up as he has to protect his ‘rep as a toughie.’

I just smile as I prepare to shut him up.

He tries to drive around me, I block him so hard it breaks a corner of the backboard off

He tries to drive through me and ends up on his butt before screaming for a foul.

He tries to punch me in the gut and then shoot, so I step back and pounce the ball into his face so hard that he drops onto his back and starts crying.

(He later tried to punch me).

All of his ‘friends’ are watching him get his butt beaten by the tall guy that hangs out in the corner of the court. They all laugh and freak out.

He comes back for one more try. I plan to make him suffer this time.

He gets the ball and he punches me in the nose to try and make me flinch! I do a Rocky and just let him hit me as it doesn’t faze me.

I was so focused on him that I didn’t care.

He tries to drive through me again and I straight up grab the ball from his grip, spin around him and watch him fall over. One of my proudest moments as I am not very light on my feet.

HE IS ANNOYED AT THIS POINT.

He runs at me and grabs my shirt as well as the ball, my grip doesn’t let go and I lift him off the ground.

As I rip the ball away from him, he is still hanging on and screaming his head off as he is 4 feet off the ground. Gripping the ball for dear life.

I casually walk over to the bushes on the side of the court and drop him in them, embarrassing him, and then I walk to the ring and do a no-look score on him as he watches.

Everyone is freaking out at this point and he is covered in mud and the water runs off from the plant (I dropped him in the common spiky bushes that most Aussie schools have).

He gets up without saying a word as I have destroyed his community’s view of him being a high crown king. Everyone says thank you and he silently slumps away from the court.

(He still comes back but he never takes me on when we play teams and he openly switches teams to avoid me, saying that I’m crazy and I’ll ‘mess him up’).

As the bell goes and we all head off the courts back to class all of the other boys expect my friends to run ahead into the building. I just think they are late for class.

But as we walk up the stairs to get to the second level, (where our entire year level has their lockers spaced out) I hear erupting applause. I thought it was one of my friend’s birthdays so I start asking and then the year-level student representative comes up to me and says that they are cheering for me.

Apparently, none of the year levels really liked Chad that much and they had all watched from the window as I wiped the court with him.

I felt like I had just won the damn Nbl finals. everyone was cheering and circling me and saying thank you a lot. I just sort of stood there but was shocked.

Turns out that later that day, Chad had gone home because everyone was bagging him for being a trash talker and then not being able to back it up, even the teacher on duty (who was a younger teacher so he is like many peoples’ older brother) came up to me and said well done.

Thanks to me defending my friend I actually knocked a jerk down a bit and even earned praise from some others, I even got a few hugs from the girls saying thank you because I had done them a great service apparently.

Now, whenever I walk onto the court top play everyone knows not to tick me off.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Don’t mess with the guty who was voted, ‘I least wanted to see him lose his mind’.”

4 points (4 votes)
Post


3. Retail Worker Thinks She's A Beautician

Pexels

“Back in 2014, I just turned 26 at the beginning of May and started a 6-month long internship at the beauty salon near where I live. At the time I was learning to become a beautician so I already had the theoretical knowledge I wanted to use in practice. In my job center, I was given information that a newly opened beauty salon nearby is looking for people for internships, so I applied and got it.

I was supposed to be a beautician/nail stylist at the place, after short training. I was thrilled! It meant more practical knowledge and experience for me before the final exams at beauty school. Or so it seemed.

Let me give you a backup for the story. The owner – let’s call her The Dragon Lady – used to work as a cashier in one of the big retail groups and she thought she was amazing in customer service.

Note: she wasn’t. Dragon Lady took a course in nail styling and hired a beautician with years of experience to do the other part of service in the salon. And after a few months, I started my internship.

One month goes by and the only things I do are taking in phone calls from customers and cleaning the ‘back end’ of the salon. Anything other than that I am allowed to observe the work of the owner – nail styling.

I was able to also watch the work of the beautician. I didn’t mind – it was the first month of the 6 month-long periods I was supposed to be there. The second month comes along and nothing changes. I’m taking calls, cleaning, and watching. Third month – no change. By now I’m basically a receptionist/cleaner at the place. On a weekly basis, I politely asked when could I eventually start the actual internship in doing what I was supposed to – nail styling and actively assisting the beautician.

The response I got from the owner: ‘I can’t trust you! You better do what you’re good at, cleaning!’

‘But I came here because you mentioned in the offer you wanted someone to be a beautician/nail stylist and not a cleaner and receptionist,’ I mentioned in the softest way possible. I never liked to argue, and with my low self-esteem at the time, I was running away from every situation that could end that way.

‘I don’t remember that! You go back to your work as you get paid for that!’ Dragon Lady snarled, so I backed out.

The beautician and I began on a much nicer note, so we eventually became very friendly. She told me she heard everything and I should stand up for myself. That happened before the owner went on a 2-weeks-long holiday abroad. Once she came back the beautician had her 2 weeks’ leave and unfortunately at the same time I got bronchitis.

In the middle of summer. Because of constant AC being turned on in the salon that the customers mentioned frequently to be an issue for them as well.

Both the beautician and I came back at the same time to work. 2 weeks without beautician’s customers took its toll on the Dragon Lady’s business and she snapped. I witnessed an argument between them both of not having customers over while the beautician gasped in shock.

‘I was on holiday that you approved, you moron! And (my name) was sick. Besides, you would not trust her to take my customers over. Would you?!’

The Dragon Lady, with her heavyweight, leggings with donut prints on them and brick red on the face, slammed the door to the back as the customer came in. Once she came back, the customer gave in a complaint about badly done nails.

The nails SHE DID!

Dragon Lady: ‘I don’t know what you mean. I like them!’

Customer: ‘But it’s not about YOU. I don’t like them and request remaking them as I asked previously’.

DL, visibly shaking: ‘I will NOT correct them, because I like what I did.’

Customer: ‘You literally cut my fingers too short!’

DL: ‘(my name), please assign this… lady… to a new visit. I’m tired.’

The week did not end, and I still wasn’t able to do what the internship promised.

At this time it’s been 3.5 out of 6 months. The beautician told me she will not extend her contract with the witch owner, and so I thought to myself, that I’ve had enough. It was Thursday. I asked one last time, when will I be able to finally start the proper internship. Dragon Lady was fuming!

Dragon Lady: I don’t like how you keep on staring at me when I work!

Me: But this is what you told me to do.

DL: I told you to take calls and clean, you idiot!

Me: But this was supposed to be a beautician/nail stylist internship…

DL: Don’t tell me how to hold internships! I know it way better than you!

This is when I snapped. I’ve had enough.

Me: I think you know as much about it as I do about quantum physics, lady! I QUIT! And the job centers will find out how you’re abusing your position!

I rushed back to take my stuff and just left right there and then.

Fast forward a few months to September and the beautician left to open a mobile beauty salon, where she came to customers directly with all equipment in a car and was doing better than ever.

Fast forward a few YEARS, and I was told by the beautician that the owner tried to do the beautician’s job on her own without ANY training. That’s how she lost these customers. On the flip side, customers of the nail salon also left as she sucked at this job as well – even with the training.

Bottom line, Dragon Lady never had another intern and is now only doing nails for friends and family. The beauty salon was closed within less than 24 months since opening.”

3 points (3 votes)
Post


2. Spoiled Kid Thinks He Can Trust Me

Pexels

“Sam was a spoiled brat who had rich parents, meaning he got a big allowance at which he used to rub in people’s faces. He bragged and showed off in ways I didn’t know were possible, not that I’m saying I’m jealous, but it was annoying. Some examples would be in school, he looked up 2 different EXPENSIVE shoes (like the ones above 500) and asked people in the class which pair he should get.

A person would state their opinion (usually the less expensive ones) and he would say ‘Nah, imma get the more expensive ones.’ Or he would just show off his air pods and apple watch, by like constantly putting them off and on in front of everybody to see. He was also a hypocrite like if I was chewing gum, he would tell on me even though he had gum too.

(You’re not supposed to have gum at my school). He and I were a bit overweight, and even though I got teased by people sometimes, I didn’t care. But he would go out of his way just to be mean to me, constantly steal my water bottle, lie, tease me, steal my jokes (everybody knew I made the jokes, so he didn’t get any credit), cut me in line for something like lunch, bump into me hard on the shoulder purposefully, etc.

He also greatly annoyed other people for other reasons. (So literally almost everyone in my school hated him, so he didn’t have that many friends, not trying to be mean though.)

So more background information, in civics, there is a lot of homework, so I usually help some friends with it. Sam tries to annoy the heck out of me to help with the homework, so I obviously say no, until I give up and say yes.

But I never help him as I would lie and say ‘I’m working on it still.’ All of this information is just to show how much I hate him.

So there is this 7-Eleven near the school on my way home (I walk), so I stop by it sometimes, to get gum, etc. So Sam hears of this and asks if I could get him a 50 dollar PS4 gift card.

He said he would pay me the cash to basically be like an uber eats but for gift cards. I say no, he begs me again and annoys me by being a hypocrite, so I say yes so he can stop, and he says he will pay me 2 bucks. I’m annoyed at this point but I say fine. So I guess he trusts me as I did the deal, but I hate him still.

He later then does more stuff to make me hate him more (homework stuff, etc). So later he said that he will give me $350 so I can get him a $350 VISA gift card. He did research saying he doesn’t need an 18 y/o person to verify and activate the card, and I will get $10 if I do so. I reluctantly did it, but I accidentally get him a PREPAID VISA GIFT CARD, which requires adult verification, needs to be activated soon or it will expire and he loses his cash.

Once activated, it will mail a real card with his name, etc. I also opened it so he can’t return it, lol, and I gave it to him and the $10 I was supposed to keep. He was angry because, in order to keep the cash, he will have to tell his parents what he did. Karma was well received, and I did it on ACCIDENT cause I was in a rush, lol, still felt guilty, but, I felt good and satisfied.

I haven’t really seen Sam since then nor do I know what happened with him next with the card but I know he hates me but I don’t care. A long time later, I saw him in PE like 4 weeks ago at school, (alone) he kept trying to go to me, calling my name and opening his backpack, like he was trying to give me something. I just ignored him and sped walked away from him.

but…

Karma, thank you.”

2 points (2 votes)
Post


1. I Don't Know Anything About Computers? I'll Erase Your Data

Pexels

“My cousin and I were around 7 years old. We both liked technology a lot and we already knew batch programming (.bat) although I also knew JavaScript and C # (now I am 14 and I can program in 8 different programming languages). One day Friend 1 introduced us to some friends from Argentina (we live in Spain) and we talked on Skype. It was a 4 person call (my cousin, me, rat boy 1, and rat boy 2).

We told them that we were very good at computers and that we had created an anti-bug (the anti-bug was not good but not too bad, it was programmed in batch). Suddenly they said that they were better than us and we asked them for tests so (I think) that they got nervous and started typing very fast.

After about 5 minutes they sent us a batch that ’caused’ the System32 folder to be deleted, but it was very badly programmed and it didn’t work.

Then they got too annoyed and said that they had hacked (insert a large number of computers and PCs) with that attempt to erase System32. We tire of them and challenge them to a batch program/ war. They sent us ‘es’ and we didn’t even download them, but we sent them only 1 and rat boy 1, apparently he was clever and he didn’t open it, however, his rat significant other 2 wasn’t that smart.

He opened it and his camera was frozen until he got off the call. Then he called rat boy 1 on the phone and he told us that his PC no longer worked (it was a batch file that did work in eliminating the System32 that we created a few months ago). Then in addition to that, he opened other ‘mini-bugs’ incorporated with it. Batch file and I opened them infinitely many times and those ‘mini-bugs’ opened each other infinitely.

Basically, its graphics card and processor did not support it (it was a gamer PC from those years) and it gave it the typical blue screen. Apart from having to send your PC to repair that batch file, I already deleted all its data by deleting System32 and other folders such as Program Files, Program Files (x86). In addition to that, it opened on the PC every time it started, causing it not to work.

In the end, he had to format his PC and everything that the program would not have removed was erased. I will not put the program for obvious reasons. Ratboy 1 gave up so we wouldn’t do the same to him. Now my cousin and I make videos on YouTube and I am a video game developer and we have a mini indie studio of 6 people that we do not even charge for our games and we pay ourselves, we only do it for fun and we are volunteers. I, my cousin, and another friend were the ones who founded that indie studio.”

1 points (1 votes)
Post


Only a few people would have thought of those revenge ideas. What are your thoughts? We'd love to hear them in the comments section below. Sign up at www.metaspoon.com to upvote and downvote your favorite stories! (Note: Some stories have been shortened and modified for our audiences.)