People Tempt Us With Their Mouthwatering Revenge
15. Hope You Like The Smell Of Fish
“A couple of years ago, I participated in a student exchange program in Belgium and obviously I had to quickly find an apartment after my arrival.
I was very lucky and found an incredible offer: a nice big loft with a roof garden, reasonably cheap and very close to my university. The only downside was that current occupier was not the official landlord: he had a long-term lease but was forbidden by contract to sublet the apartment himself.
He was himself going on a student exchange program and had to quickly find someone to rent his apartment (which is how he explained the rent was so cheap).
He seemed like a wealthy, trustworthy guy so I didn’t mind having an ‘off the books’ deal with him. This ended up being my demise.
When I moved in, the apartment was not in excellent condition. All the utilities were included in the rent, which was a big plus for me considering that it was January and electricity prices in Belgium are pretty high.
The central heating was broken, but the landlord was ‘kind enough’ to buy me two small electric heaters that I could use in the living room and in my bedroom.
Strangely enough, my landlord had some kind of defect/disease that stopped him from having a sense of smell (he warned me other people would be able to smell if I had smoked in the apartment).
I never smoked in the apartment (although I am a big smoker) because the landlord told me he was very opposed to smoking.
As is customary in many European countries, he had asked for a deposit of around 1,600 euros (2 months’ rent) to be paid back in full on the condition that there were no damages.
Although not in a written contract, I still give him the deposit because he left all his appliances (including CD / DVD collection and speakers, furniture, television, consoles, etc.) which I considered to be collateral.
As months went by, I paid my rent to his mother (still in Belgium) on time, had a great time and did no damage to the apartment.
I had a minimal but courteous email relationship with the landlord, who never complained about anything I might have done.
The landlord came back a couple of days before I was preparing to move out.
He came to visit the apartment and check for damages and I was expecting him to hand me a brown envelope with the 1,600 euros he owed me after he had noticed there were no damages whatsoever.
When he entered, he had a clearly fake and exaggerated disgusted look on his face. He explained that the apartment was dirty and that I needed to clean it before I received the moola (which was not part of our verbal agreement).
I had cleaned the apartment entirely to the best of my ability and to an extent any landlord would have found more than reasonable.
He proceeded to show me all the wall stains (almost all of them already there), dust under the oven (yes, under the oven), rust on some pipes under the sink, etc.
Basically, he wanted me to clean the apartment as if he was about to sell it and, remember, the apartment was definitely not cleaned when I moved in. He offered to pay and go get some cleaning products for me, which he would bring back shortly.
I assumed he would also help me clean with his girl, but nope.
He came back and basically ordered me and my girl around like maids while he and his were doing nothing.
This was, still to date, the most humiliating and frustrating experience of my life. I knew that I had to obey his commands because I would never get my 1,600 euros back if I didn’t. I probably could have legally challenged him somehow but I was leaving the country a few days later and I preferred to swallow my pride and move on with my life.
Scumbag landlord, after 2-3 hours, seemed pleased with my work and instructed me to meet him at a café the next day to hand over the dollars.
I arrived at the meeting early the next day, hungover as heck, ready to get my ca-ching and get the heck out of Belgium (my flight was the next day). He did not have the deposit with him. After I left the day before, he had called the utility company and realized that he had an outstanding statement of around 2,000 euros.
Apparently, those little electric heaters consumed a of a lot of energy. I could/should have anticipated this, but as the utilities were ‘included’ and I had never thought of checking the evolution of my electricity consumption on the meter (which I had to unscrew a plank of wood to access anyways).
Scumbag landlord, after having made me clean his apartment from top to bottom, was asking for the 400 euros I owed him.
He was even threatening to show up at the airport the next day and stop me from leaving if I didn’t! After calling the utility company myself, we went together to their offices and realized the balance was actually something around 1,400 euros (not the landlord’s mistake).
I only received 200 euros in return.
I had never been so furious in my life and could barely stop shaking for the next few hours.
I wanted so much to get revenge, but I only had one night left in the apartment.
I was also legitimately scared that he would show up at the airport (I should mention that he was a big guy and a Muay Thai fighter). I had to somehow delay the effects of the revenge so that they would be only noticeable after I was gone.
This excluded the obvious damages to the property, which was my initial idea.
That’s when all the pieces fit together in my mind and my evil plot was hatched.
After sharing the idea with my girl, we went to the nearest fish store and bought something like 10 euros worth of fish leftovers usually purchased to make fish stock or soup (my best estimate is something like 2-3 kilos of fish bones, and fish gunk).
For the next couple of hours, I blended the fish with a lot of water, cived out the chunks, and filled up spray bottles with a murky but very liquid fish mixture.
I sprayed that fishy water everywhere, but I really mean everywhere. Under the oven, behind the furniture, on the floor, the walls, the ceiling, between the drawers of his desk, under his mattress and even on the clothing he had originally left in storage when I moved in. There is no way he could smell the fish, and he probably would not have received complaints from the neighbors until they were rotten and stinking out the whole building.
To this day, I do not know how my fishy revenge turned out.
I can only imagine that his friends told him he smelled like crap and/or that his apartment smelled of rotting sea creatures, by which time it would have been too late to reverse anyway. It probably cost him a whack of to professionally clean his house and I sincerely hope he is still paranoid about smelling like fish but nobody wants to admit it to him.”
14. Steal My Car? Have Fun Being Homeless
“This story happened approx. 4 years ago to a friend of mine. He and his wife (girl back then) took a house loan, bought a new Chevrolet Camaro and in general they were preparing for a life together (he has proposed to her).
Because of their lack of free time due to their hard work to pay off the loan they didn’t have time for themselves, nor for the abnormal amount of other things such as the housework.
So they hired a maid. His first impressions about her were good and they decided that she’s the person they will trust, and they handled her their house keys because they were at work most of the time she came around to clean their house.
First few weeks she worked hard and always paid attention to detail and nicely cleaned their house from the bottom to the very top.
She was also instructed not to let anyone in and to always lock the door when she left.
After 6 months of her working there, strange things began to happen. Not in any anomalous way, but things started to disappear (being stolen). It all started with small things like AA batteries which are barely noticeable missing.
But soon things graduated as phone chargers, perfumes (the more expensive ones) and some electrical gadgets went missing.
My friend thought that he simply lost them, but soon the maid raised suspicion as the things went missing when my friend wasn’t present when she was detailing their house.
But without any evidence blaming her wasn’t in place. Also, he found out on some social media, that she has got some serious debts at least in thousands of dollars (aliments, divorce court settlements, etc.)
So he decided to install security cameras.
And he didn’t tell the maid.
5 weeks forward and he had enough evidence to press charges on her as the things she stole were valued at 250$+ (In my country anything stolen above 250 bucks is considered a crime). He got furious when his flash disk containing private documents as well as some of his billing and his official work documents were stolen.
But he wanted her to get even more into the stealing so he can squish even the last cent out of her.
So he came up with a plan. He told the maid that he and his girl will be gone for a week for a honeymoon and that he will be going by taxi not to pay extra moola airports charge for the parking. That means his brand new Chevrolet Camaro will stay parked in the house the maid has got keys of. They rented an apartment through Airbnb just a few blocks away from his place and he placed a GPS tracking keychain into his car so he could see when his car is through the phone app.
He then placed the car keys in a visible spot on the house so the maid will notice.
All that was left is wait for the magic to happen. And his intuition was right. After 2 days of almost constant watching the GPS tracker’s location, the car left the garage. All of a sudden the car was cruising at 90MPH on the highway. My friend immediately called the cops.
They caught the maid something like 20 miles (30KM) away.
And now revenge can take the place. He decided to press charges on the maid. At the court, the maid told the judges my friend told her to drive the car to some “untold” location (she acted like she forgot where it is) and the one that should go to the jail is him because he wrongly accused her and he just wants to get change from her to pay his loan.
But the tables turned. My friend and his lawyer showed the court all of the video evidence of her stealing his stuff valued HIGHLY above 250$ (it was like 40.000$ including the car). So it was a crime. She starting swearing and telling every single lie she could think of. The security had to calm her down. She is facing 5 years in jail and she was charged 5.000$ including all the stolen property but the car, his lawyer and some other court staff.
The price was excluding the car because it was returned almost immediately).
A few days later police did a house check on her and most of the stolen stuff was there.
There were also some other things reported missing from other customers of her. Due to her previous debts and the new ones she owes she will very likely become homeless when gotten out of the jail.”
13. Using A Nanny Cam to Catch A Food Thief
“A couple of things about me that made it really suck to have a food thief:
-I have a lot of food allergies, so I can’t just get lunch at the cafeteria or at a nearby restaurant
-I have a new baby, who I’m breastfeeding, and who I pump for when I’m at work.
Do you know how hungry pregnant people are? Yeah, the caloric requirement for breastfeeding is 100-200 calories higher.
I am always hungry.
-Because I have a new baby, half the time I don’t manage to show up at work with lunch. I either run out of time to pack one or if I did remember, I leave it on the counter.
My solution to all of this was to leave lots of nonperishable snacks in my office.
(And also a lot of candy, because I also have a three-year-old and therefore work is the only place I can shovel Skittles into my mouth without a little hand extending into my field of vision and a little voice saying ‘pwease?’) Snacks that were specifically free of my allergens.
Some of which were specialty foods because of this. The type of specialty food that just doesn’t taste as good as food that contains the allergen, and also costs twice as much.
Because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now. I deserve nice things.
So, because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, when I first came back from maternity leave, assembled my snack hoard, and started having things go missing, I genuinely thought I was just losing my mind.
Boxes of candy were running out faster than I thought I was eating them. I’d come in in the morning and things wouldn’t be where I’d left them.
At one point I brought a bag of chips to work, folded the rim of the bag down so I wasn’t plunging my arm elbow-deep into a grease pit, and then put a bag clip on it when I went home, and when I came in the next morning the bag was unrolled and re-clipped.
I went, ‘Wow, I must be more tired than I thought,’ rolled the bag back down, and the next morning it was unrolled again.
Just little things like that, almost every day, that made me go “wow, the post-baby brain is worse than I thought!”
And then. And then! Then I got the flu. I got the flu, and I was out for a whole week. Left behind at the office was an almost-full box of Enjoy Life cookies, which are not enjoyable but are free of all major allergens, and are also $5 a box for, like, 12 sad little sand pies with some cinnamon on top.
I ate one row of these cookies. And then I was out of the office for a week. For one week, I was not eating any of my snack hoard.
But someone else was. Because I came back to work, opened my box of cookies, and found one. There was one single, solitary cookie left.
And, on further examination, the one box of candy that had been opened was nowhere to be found, and on top of that, the thief had done me the courtesy of opening a new box for me, except that they actually followed the “push here to open” instructions instead of just ripping one end of the box open like I do, which they should damn well know at this point because by this time they’d been stealing from me for two goddamn months.
The combination of these two things- the sheer freaking audacity it takes to open a new box so you can continue stealing from someone, on top of the consumption of almost a whole box of specialty cookies that aren’t even GOOD- enraged me enough that, after going to my boss and getting some vague promises about checking if the security cameras in my wing of the building are functional or not (what??) I went straight to Amazon and ordered myself a nanny cam.
Not for my baby. For my snack hoard.
Conveniently, it arrived the day before Valentine’s day. I set it up on top of a file cabinet looking down at my desk.
On the desk, I laid out a fantastic spread of bait snacks. I got all my thief’s favorites, and then I took it one step further. I bought myself a Valentine’s heart, broke the seal to make it more inviting, and left it out on my desk.
The next morning, I came into some very obvious snack carnage. My thief had slowly been getting more brazen (again, who OPENS a new box of something?? And opens it DIFFERENTLY than the person they are stealing from??) but this was just on another level. Individually wrapped things had been dumped out of their boxes.
Bits of the packaging had been thrown away. And, yup; they’d eaten some of the Valentine candy.
For shame, office thief! Don’t you know that’s from someone who loves me??
I played back the video. All was quiet throughout most of the evening, and I was just watching the shadows lengthen as the sun slowly set through the hallway window. And then! Shortly before midnight! The night janitor arrived!
And went right ahead and took a 12-minute break in my office, sitting in my chair, eating my food.
I started taking screenshots. I got him shoveling candy into his mouth with full palm-to-lips intensity. Pouring things out onto the desk to pick his favorite flavors.
Not even bothering to put them back where he found them. And yes. Eating my goddamn Valentine’s candy.
Screenshots went directly to my boss in an email. I went directly to my boss’s door to hover and grin and ask if he’d read my email.
And I got assurances of a strongly worded email to the cleaning company and the barring of this particular employee from our place of business.
I was also, tactfully, asked to please take my unauthorized spy camera home, which I did.
I thought this was over, until the girl who works the concession stand dropped by to thank me.
Apparently, the food thief would start his shift just as she was closing down for the night, and would try to get free coffee in that “creepy guy” way.
And then one of the reception staff came by with the same sentiments. I’d never met the guy face to face, but apparently, as a woman, it was not a fun experience to have. I’d shown my screenshots to a few coworkers (“who’s eating u/5RabbitsInALongCoat’s food” had become office gossip by this point) and word had spread fast. I worked an earlier shift, so I didn’t recognize him, but people who’s shifts overlapped with his did.
I hadn’t told my husband about what I’d done because, when I came home raging about the blatant theft that had gone on while I’d had the flu, his only response had been “you really shouldn’t be leaving food at work, then.” But, when I came home with the nanny cam and explained where and why I’d gotten it, his reaction surprised me.
“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you stand up for yourself.
I’m proud of you.”
Y’know what, Reddit? I’m proud of myself too!”
Another Users Comments:
“Last time I had an office food thief, I got wings from Kroger and soaked them in the spiciest peppers I could purchase, then I baked them and coated them in a fine powder of the same pepper and left it to sit in the fridge with some sun-warmed ranch.” ChiefQuinby
12. I Didn't Know I Was Supposed To Prove I Was Going To A Funeral
“I’ll start off by saying, I’m not really one for starting a conflict, but I had one teacher in college who really liked to push my buttons.
Her class was specific for my major, but she was not one of my regular professors.
So pretty much I would only have this one class with her, which I needed in order to continue on with what I was studying.
In saying that I was one of the few that took the class, “not in her major.” So she sat us in the back, and ultimately treated us like we weren’t going to take the class seriously, so she gave more attention to her students that sat upfront.
And I get it, the professors that I had for my major were very friendly with us and would joke around and whatnot.
But never had I had a teacher that would blatantly single out students the way she did to us in the back. I won’t go into all the details in this story, but a lot had to do with us getting bad grades or she forgot to email us assignments, to which point she would laugh and just say oops or refuse to help us.
It was very frustrating.
So, what started her big issue with me is one of my examples above. She emailed “her students” after class one day that there was going to be a chance for extra credit that night if we went to a specific seminar on campus.
I never received this email. I found out about it through another student in the class asking me if I was going to go.
Clearly confused, they forwarded me the email and after making sure I did not receive it, I checked with the other people in the back, none of which received it either. Thinking it was a mistake, we all ended up going because who couldn’t use some extra credit. After the seminar (which didn’t have much to do with the class at all) our professor saw us and approached us to ask why we were here.
I told her about the email and even though we didn’t get it, we still wanted to come for the extra credit.
She laughed it off and said she must have forgotten us but could not give us the extra credit because we needed to reply back to the email to let her know we were going beforehand, for ya know, reasons…So simple to say, that wasn’t fair and despite our protests, she just said sorry and walked away.
Well, the next day I marched my ass up to the dean of our major’s office and explained the situation. We got the extra credit.
So that was the whole issue that started a lot of issues, and it got much worse. Probably a few weeks after this event she came into class, in tears, and promptly just told us to read from the text book while she sobbed at her desk.
I’m human, I was concerned, but she had several students around her desk trying to console her. After a bit, she pulled it together and she sat at the edge of her desk and started to honestly vent about what was happening in her personal life at that moment. Fine I get it, life is hard, but after an hour of this with honestly nobody really responding to what she was saying, it was a little ridiculous.
Cancel class and go home if you have to. But this was soon not limited to just that class. From then forward the first half of almost every class was just her talking with us about anything from her divorce, her new marriage, her children’s issues, up to and including her personal life.
That was where I drew the line one day. She came in and in exclusive detail told us the promiscuous night she had before.
No, I’m not paying as much as I am for college to hear this. So that day again, I went up to the dean’s office along with several other students (including some of “her own.)
Well this situation was a little more serious, and we were asked to speak in front of a few more faculty, including the president of the school. And honestly, I was proud of myself for standing up for the class.
We had spoken to a lot of our classmates and they too were confused by not only why we were no longer actually being taught, but she did draw a line with that story and made them uncomfortable.
Our teacher after that had missed a few days, only sending us a few emails about required reading. When she returned she sat on the edge of the desk again, facing us and wanted to address what had happened.
She was told by the school that she stepped out of line and that she would no longer be able to dive into her personal life the way that she had. She then asked the people that felt uncomfortable to raise their hands so that she could address them. No one raised their hands, it was none of her business and at this point we had wasted half the class AGAIN because she went into more details about other stuff.
It was later that day that a few of us (who did go to the dean) was at the cafeteria for lunch when she marched over and began, and this is no exaggeration, yell at us because of what we did. Tears were streaming down her face as she pointed at me. She said she couldn’t get of bed for days and then called me a bigot (the story had been about her and her wife’s night.A major side note I couldn’t have cared less about that detail.
It could’ve been about her and a guy. two, three, four people and I still would’ve gone to the dean. It was unprofessional and gross.)
Again she was out of line, but it wasn’t I who went to the dean, it was another teacher that saw this. This went full circle a few times.
But honestly, it was revealed that they weren’t going to fire her and I had a few weeks left and then I wouldn’t have to sit in her class again.
I was over it, I was passing her class, and I was ready to move on.
Unfortunately a week or so later, my aunt passed away unexpectantly. My mom called me that morning and told me. To put this in perspective, it hadn’t been a good year on my mom’s side for things of this nature.
This was the third big thing to happen, and this particular time was while my grandmother was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack.
It was all very scary and sudden and I needed to get home. My college was in state but I was about a six-hour drive so I wanted to take a few days to be with my family. I had asked a few of my professors and they all were very accommodating, except I can let you guess which one…when it came time to ask this particular professor she played this fake sympathy card and put a hand on my shoulder.
At this point, we had a date of the funeral and I would only miss one of her classes. She gave me some assigned reading to do and my homework she told me to turn in the next day (which was like four days earlier than if I had been to class, but whatever.) I thanked her, but as I left and was walking down the hallway she caught up to me and told me she forgot to mention that she needed some proof that I was going to a funeral.
And the example she gave me? The certificate of my aunt’s passing. Ha so here is where the fun begins!
I drove home that night, emailed her my homework and honestly wanted to email her the “proof” so I didn’t have to worry about her when I was home. Come to find out, sometimes certificates aren’t readily available, nor should anyone have to ask their grieving grandmother for one.
I told my mom about it and she was shocked, but she didn’t have any information about it. So I emailed my professor, told her the situation and she replied back that since it had been several days, the law requires one to be sent out within like 72 hours or something.
To which I replied, that even if that was true, it still meant that I had to ask my grandmom for it and I did not want to do that.
Her reply and this is the word for word because I remember it, ‘I need proof, so you’ll need to ask someone to see it. Your aunt would think that was appropriate I’m sure.’ She then gave me her cell number and said I could text it to her instead of scanning because she would make that accommodation for me.
Well turns out, I did ask my grandmom, and it sucked.
But she didn’t have it, or she didn’t see it.
And I was not going to snoop or have her go through the piles of papers to find it. So I didn’t care, screw this teacher. Would she really fail me for missing one class? So the day of the funeral came and I got a text from her. She said she hadn’t received anything from me (including my homework, which in the original email she acknowledged she had gotten.) And that if I did not send it, she would fail me in the super-secret assignment that we were going to have that day and it was worth like 25% of my grade.
I was in no mood to argue, I was surrounded by my huge family, many of whom I rarely see (and it sucked that it was for a funeral.) But in a last-ditch effort, I took a picture of the program I was holding which had my aunt’s name on the front, with her date of passing, and today’s date of the service. It took several minutes for her to respond, to which she then accused me of making a fake program to send her (since it was only one page folded in half…) For heck’s sake, I then did something that to this day I do not regret.
I turned around and took a picture of my aunt, lying in her casket. Now, I wasn’t super close, it wasn’t zoomed in or anything. But it was a clear picture of a deceased person. And had my aunt been alive she would’ve laughed and flipped her off in the picture. I sent that picture with a simple text saying, that if that wasn’t proof enough, I could get a closer shot.
Never did hear anything back from her that day, but the fun did not stop there. I have a big family, a very close big family. And word kinda traveled about my situation.
I think by the end of the day there was a total of 37 of them that called both this professor, dean, and president to inform them what they thought of the situation. One of which was from my grandmother that was as close to a saint as you could get, calling my teacher some names on her voicemail.
I returned to school and almost immediately was asked to have a meeting with this teacher, my other teachers, and the dean. I explained the situation from the beginning, not just the funeral, but the issues after the seminar, the story, the cafeteria encounter, another fun one where this teacher intentionally got me a parking ticket on campus and then laughed about it.
The funeral story was a hit because the president arrived for that one, and I had all the emails, texts, and phone logs to prove it.
The teacher denied a lot of it, saying she does this to all of the students because a lot like to inflict bad karma onto themselves by lying about going to a funeral. Needless to say, she was made to take a “leave of absence,” but ultimately not fired for some reason.
It didn’t matter at that point, I passed the class and got the satisfaction of the remaining years at school she would make an abrupt turn in the hallway if she ever saw me walking down it.
Had another fun encounter too when she was put on an event I was helping to run, and she visibly was shaking when she had to stand next to me and speak.”
11. Scoff At Me? I'll Get You Fired And Sent Back To Your Home Country
“So let me preface this by saying I do feel somewhat bad about the events that transpired, but it would be eating my conscience to say I didn’t do it on purpose- because I did.
I started my first full-time job when I was 20, fresh off college and ready to take on the world. I resided in a middle eastern country, where people got brought in frequently by employers, and one mistake could cost them everything.
I was outside of this because I was a resident of the place despite not being from there. Anyways, when I first started, I got along very well with my coworker despite the fact that he came off as a lot of bad things for me.
We tried hanging out, but the more I got to know him, the more disgusted I became. He was a chauvinist, a purist of his religion where he believes the execution of certain people should be allowed, and he was extremely bigoted.
But nonetheless, I tried making friends with him, because I was open to anything.
In our office, we have portable wifi that he took with him every day (free internet), and I never commented on this because I have my own, I can afford it- and so can he (more on this later). The closer I got to him, the more he opened up, but in the worst ways.
He would send me lewd images of women while we’re in the office, talk about substance abuse, and sometimes disappear from work for hours on end while I man the office.
Like I said, I was 20, I was still young and naive, and I tried my best to seem calm and friendly, I wanted to make a good impression. This man, however, was the opposite. He was several years older than me and acted like he was above me.
I ignored it because I wanted to be civil. Sometimes I would help him with his work- until eventually, his work became mine. He would just expect me to do it, without even lending a hand. I didn’t say anything, I just did it.
He started leaving the office more and more. Sometimes he would only be at work for a measly 2 hours out of 9 hours, popping in and out, and the office manager is too chicken poop to say anything to the General Manager.
Then there’s the lateness, where I would come in on time every day, and he’d come an hour late. Still, I kept my mouth shut. It escalated to him adjusting attendance records so it seems like he’s not absent, even though his absences were frequent- unfortunately, he was put in charge of that too.
I remained quiet throughout all of this, remained civil- until finally, I spoke to the General Manager about pursuing a different line of work.
I was always into graphic design, and they needed to get some work done so I offered to do it. But during this time, I couldn’t afford many things anymore because I had to help pay for bills for my parents, so I usually just walked to work back and forth every day and limited my eating to once a day- meaning the wifi was no longer something I could afford.
So, as an agreement, I could take the office wifi with me and work on designs from home. However, my coworker didn’t agree to this, and pretty much attacked me with a barrage of insults; he scoffed at the fact that I needed the wifi to do design work and said I was a joke.
I’ve suppressed the majority of what the conversation held, but it went something like this:
Me: I just need it tonight, you can have the wifi tomorrow.
Him: Why? It’s not yours.
Me: I need to do some design work.
Him: Yeah, me too. I need to do that too. So, leave it here.
I couldn’t remember much of what else he said, but there was a scoff after he said that. And he made fun that my designs sucked and that I should just stop while I’m ahead.
My blood boiled and I reached a point of no return.
I immediately phoned the office manager and talked about the situation and how if I don’t get the wifi, I’ll complain to the General Manager who did in fact give me his blessing, unlike this turd.
He immediately called my coworker and told him to give me the wifi, which he did, and that was that.
EXCEPT, I’m a petty person, and I’m not about to let some jerk get off without a slap on the wrist.
The next day, I went to the Head Office and had a meeting with the General Manager. I spoke to him about all the misconducts this guy had, how he’s always late, never in the office, changes his absences, steals sometimes, etc. I spilled my heart out on all his wrongdoings, showing the messages and photos I was sent during a shift that I never asked for and how I’m doing all of his work.
It escalated to a point where he got brought into the main office for a meeting, where I proceeded to berate him in front of the manager, and he could only try to defend himself, but I was prepared. It turns out the office manager never even spoke to the General Manager about his misconduct. Afterward, he was brought back to the office having been yelled at by both my and the General Manager.
And I could say that’s where it ends- except it’s not.
After he left, the General Manager realized if I had been doing all the work, then why didn’t I say anything. I responded that I was simply there to work and to help. However, with what just happened (and the fact that this guy was getting paid more than me), I’ve decided that if he’s here, then I won’t be staying in the company.
I gave him a choice, me, or this guy. The answer was obvious because by the next day he was handed a termination letter and another letter that states he’s been booked a ticket and he has to head back to his home country within a month- and he’s barred from entering the country for several years due to his public misconduct that was reported by a certain someone to the local authorities.
I COULD SAY that’s the end, but okay, this is the last one I swear.
See, he had a back home, a fiancé more like- whom he had been unfaithful to. Funny enough, he added me on when we first met, and she proceeded to add me too because he talks about me to her. Well, our messages weren’t just inappropriate, it showed details of him being unfaithful to her, with me questioning him if that’s a good idea.
Every screenshot sent. All the photos of the women he’s been with, sent. She was livid, and I kept apologizing for keeping her in the dark, but that I thought she deserved to know at least. I haven’t spoken to her since, but judging from the fact that her status no longer states she’s engaged to him, is enough of a confirmation.
I sent him one last thing before blocking him on every social media we’ve been connected in: “You deserved this, poophead.”
It’s been several months since then, and I’m thriving at work.
I got a raise, I have better coworkers, and I’m getting a promotion. As for him, well he’s out there somewhere in the world, who knows, and who cares right? We’re no longer in the same country, so whatever else happens to him no longer fazes me.
Though, he did once send me a photo of his fake Italian ID, because he was planning on illegally migrating there next year. I’m on the fence if I should send it to the authorities in Italy or not, just as a precaution, I might be considering migrating there at some point.”
10. Have An Affair With My Man? Get Your Dirty Act Unveiled
“Background: My ex and I had been together for about 1 year in a long-distance relationship (he lived 3 hours away).
I find out from his sister that he was talking to other women when we were still together and confrontations with him lead nowhere with him saying that I am the only one on his mind and that he would never do that to me (the usual spiel).
Plus, he says that his sister does not know what she is talking about. I take his side (because I loved him).
Three weeks ago, I find out from a mutual friend that he has been seeing this girl in his town, I confront him about it and he flips everything around on me, saying that it’s so hard for him to ‘be good’ while I am living so far away; that I neglect him (which I don’t, I am the one that drives to see him every other weekend when I have the funds, we call, text, and Skype each other daily), that I don’t want him to live with me (which is true because I don’t want to take care of a grown man and pay his bills).
He says he loves me and wants to make it work and drops all contact the next day.
I was heartbroken, I talked to my friends and they said the girl he is hooking up with has been around and that they are in a relationship the day after the ex and I had the talk– probably even before then.
Two weeks ago, while still hurting, heartbroken, I reactivated my social media and meticulously combed through my ex and his new ‘love’s’ profiles.
I know I should not have done this but whatever.
I did not dwell on their flirty messages but instead, focused on her profile.
I read through months of disgusting selfies of her in a dirty dark bathroom with barely their clothes that even a floozy would be embarrassed by being caught in. Then I did it. I made a fake profile of a fine-looking man from Google that “used to go to her school.’ I befriended all of her friends, made fake posts, and befriended her.
All of this took less than a day.
You would be surprised at how many people would befriend you on social media just from your looks regardless of if they know you or not.
I had about 140 ‘friends’ in just 2 hours and at that point, people were requesting to be my friend every few minutes.
I dunno who is more pathetic, me or these weirdos (just me probably).
I started to chat her up the next day, she was very ‘open’ with herself, even sending me new pictures of herself in little clothing to a complete stranger without any in return.
Being a woman myself, it was easy to tell her what she wanted to hear. 2-3 days later, she was complaining about my ex to me already. I told her I wanted to meet up and will pick her up and ‘show her what it’s like to be with a real man.’ At this point, I had hours of conversations saved, her saying the dirtiest crap I’ve ever read – pictures, videos, what have you.
It was time.
While all this was going on, my ex started to contact me, saying it was a mistake.
I asked him if they had broken up, he says yes (twice) even though they were obviously not. This should have broken my heart but it didn’t. I knew the truth but told him that yes I love him and that I want him to move in with me.
He sounded happy, excited – whatever and said that he was going to give his 2 weeks to his boss that day. He texted me later and told me that he just left them with no notice instead because ‘eff ’em.’ He was going to start packing and will head out with everything later in the week.
The Revenge: I posted all of the conversations up on fake social media, tagged her in it, posted the pictures and videos for my ex’s eyes only and sat back and enjoyed the show before I deactivated the fake account.
I had 53 likes and 82 messages. Her family, friends all saw it. My ex saw it and almost immediately texted me to say how he misses me, he can’t wait to be with me and doesn’t mention anything about the girl.
Friday rolls around and he tells me he is on his way to my apartment. He does not know where I live because I recently moved.
I tell him to meet me at a CVS close by so I direct him where to go. He tells me he is almost out of gas and that I will have to help him put some in it. I agree and tell him that I will once he gets there. I get a text telling me he’s at the CVS and asks where I am.
I ignore it. 30 minutes later, he blows up my phone. Calls ignored. I made it a point to let it ring once so that he knows I sent it to voicemail. 1 hour later – he calls and leaves me a voicemail, saying he is worried and if I am ok.
I am SO GOOD. 2 hours later, he says that he is stranded, drove to another CVS thinking I was there but now he has no gas and is stranded at a gas station with his things in the car.
Calls ignored. I go to bed.
Saturday morning. I have 37 text messages, 28 missed calls and 7 voicemails from him and that he had to call his mom to come to pick him up. Since then, I blocked his number and then had to change my number since he would then start calling me from his family’s phone and blocked calls.
I get a msg on from his sister.
She tells me he came home crying like a baby and since his mom knows pretty much what happened between us, she was not very sympathetic – but still pretty upset with me.
His sister thought I was a baddie and deserved better than her lying, unfaithful loser of a brother.
I know I acted on impulse on all of this, probably destroyed this girl’s life. I will probably reactivate fake profile to say sorry or whatever but maybe not.
She did knowingly hook up with a man that had a partner – seduced him even! I know this sounds crazy but the feelings I had for my ex are still there.
He will never forgive me since he is now unemployed and the whole town knows his business (the girl admitted his ‘package’ is tiny).
Part of me regrets everything and that I want him back with me. Another part of me is glad I destroyed any type of reconciliation as it was not going to work out in the end. Feels good to let this out.”
9. You May Be My Boss, But I'm Not Your Secretary
“I have a good boss, but sometimes you have to teach them a thing or two.
My boss is becoming the witch from micromanaging heck. Where I used to be able to do my job, I can no longer do it without constant interruptions of micromanagement. Boss has an office near mine, so if I handle a business call, she listens and tries to control the call from his office.
It is impossible for people to do more than one thing at a time. I can not listen to two people at a time when one is on the phone. One conversation depends on verbal skills only and the other is messed up trying to use verbal and nonverbal.
The customer should be served not the boss. I sort of have dealt with this pretty well and clever.
When I am on phone with someone and eavesdropping boss starts to try to control a simple phone call with “no don’t do that, do ______, who is that?, Ask them _______, tell them _______” I become polite cover the phone and say to my boss I have this handled. If the boss persists with the micromanagement crap, I then cover the phone and say “Mr.
Customer, can you please hold a moment; it is too loud and busy here to understand your needs. If it is ok with you, I am going to transfer you to my boss with a private office.” Boss then says, “No, can’t you see I don’t have time for that call?!” I transfer the call that moment and walk away. Boss handles the call which they wanted to do in the first place.
Next time the boss interrupts me on a call I cover the phone, say can you hold one second, and politely asks the boss, “Do you want this one?”I look at Boss, and wait till their attention goes back to the desk, then I handle the call.
Now that I have broken that mind-numbing habit my boss has moved to different interruptions to my workflow. He is clever but so am I. “Can you copy files from XXXXX and scan them for me?” Over and over I hear this.
Now you do things for your boss but when they run their own small business on company time they tend to take you on as an unwilling partner, asking you to do things they don’t have time for, but then you don’t have time for your job.
Most of our documents are PDF and our company will not provide us the ability to edit stuff… so… when…
I… can’t get my job done, I wait till my boss wants a document scanned for them. I wait for a one-pager that I know they want electronically. I retrieve the file, 50% of the time is in the boss’s office, I pull the page they want and I then scan the damn thing. But the end of the document goes in scanner first so the document will go to boss UPSIDE DOWN and not useable by them.
I then announce, “I am going on break, would you please return the document to the file?” They get the file they can’t use and I am not there for them to ask me to rescan.
Bonus Revenge: Boss has to go to the scanner to rescan his document. Once he handles it he is obligated by the company to return it to the file so I comply with his micro-management demands and he ends up doing what he should have done in the first place.”
8. Bigoted Guy Gets His Truck Towed
“This happened a few days ago and I still do my evil laugh everytime I think about it. My coworker and I work at a popular hotel in GA. Let’s call us HI and the place right next door is HGI.
We run the breakfast buffet everyday from 6am-9am. Everyday when we first open, almost nobody comes downstairs, especially now that we’re in our slow season. So after we set everything up and open the doors, we step outside on the side of the building for a smoke break.
The door on the side though is broken. It automatically locks from the inside. But theres a trick, if you push the button in the top corner, it won’t lock unless somebody presses in the bar.
So we come outside and press the button. Sometimes guests will leave early and press the bar without realizing. I looked over and saw a guest heading for the door, I tell my coworker to go up there and catch the door before he locks us out.
The guy comes put the door, sees my coworker running toward it, I’m telling the guy, “Hey, hold the door.” And as soon as she gets there, he intentionally pushes it shut. She asked the guy, “Why did you do that?” He says, “Cause I don’t know who the heck you are!” She responds, “We’re at work, sir.” “So am I!” He walks to his BUDGET truck in the parking lot.
“If you’re at work, you need to fix that freaking door! This whole place is BS and I’m sick of walking around the building to get in!”
Yelling at us as if it’s our fault the door is broken. I even went to the manager and asked him to fix it. You’re suppose to be able to open it with your keycard. But instead he put up a sign telling people to just use the main entrance.
Its not a far walk. It’s literally 20 steps away.
He kept saying “I’m at work” or “I’m going to work” then slams his truck door and goes back inside to have breakfast. Of course he tried to complain about us first but the manager wasn’t there. Then he went back up to his room. My coworker said he being bigoted cuz he wasn’t yelling at me or the guy at the front desk.
(He and I are both white) but always gave dirty looks and an attitude to her and our other coworker, who are both black.
Here’s where the revenge comes in.
Like I said, the guy had his truck parked outside in the lot. But did you know there’s a rule that if you’re staying with us, you have to park in the parking garage and the lot is for HGI next door? He did.
I know he did because everytime the front desk checks someone in, they give the guest a parking pass and they tell them “you need to park in the garage. If you park in the lot, they will tow you.”
So I waited throughout the breakfast hours after he went back to his room and the truck was still there. Then at 10am, the manager came in.
I went up to him and said “Hey, you see that BUDGET truck in the lot over there?” You can see it through the dining room window. He said “Yes. What about it”
“Well, the guy who drives it is actually a guest here, not next door. I spoke to him earlier and he said he was leaving for work but it’s been 4 hours and he still hasn’t moved.”
He put his hand up to stop me from continuing and he said “Don’t worry.
Ill take care of it.”
So my manager called the manager at the HGI and they called a towing service. Within the hour it was gone. He apparently tried to cuss out the manager and actually said, “This is why you people need to go back where you came from!” My manager is Indian. I assume he was thrown out he checked out after that cuz I haven’t seen him since.
7. Use My Friendship To Hide An Affair? I'll Let The Cat Out Of The Bag
“So a few years ago I worked at a Fortune 100 company.
I was there on a contract. Everything was great. Really liked the team, boss (Paul) was great. He and I could talk about anything honestly as two guys. He’s been to my house. I’ve been to his. His wife is funny and a stay-at-home mom. If it wasn’t for the boss/contractor thing, we could be bros outside of work.
At some point, there is a new woman contractor (Mary) that starts on the team. She sits in the cube next to me.
She’s married, pretty hot, a little bit flirty, just generally great to talk to. She and I hit it off right away.
We become pretty close. We become friends, texting each other at night about work and family and just general stuff. Every now and then she throws some random comments out there about me coming over to her place.
Which, from a self-esteem point of view, was just a big plus in my book. Never took her up on it, but could have.
We have our normal disagreements about how to run stuff, complete tasks, etc. and while those got heated, it was just two strong-willed people having different opinions. No big deal. She becomes a family friend. Our kids play together, families go to events together, etc.
Fast forward to about 4 months later, I am chatting with my boss late at night (project cutover), he mentions that he is jealous how Mary and I can ‘fight and clear the air and just move on.’.
I thank him for the compliment and didn’t think anything of it. Well, within a couple of weeks boss-man and Mary are doing lunch together constantly. I ask him if I should ‘move out of the way’ as it is obvious that he likes her (Remember, I am there on a contract, so my boss can fire me without a reason – that’s why I treated him with deference).
He says no.
Life goes on for another couple of weeks this way. Then he puts her on his pet project.
All of her time is now allocated to his stuff. He doesn’t have time for the rest of the team as ‘all of his attention is focused on his project.’ I am sure you can see where this is heading. It was quite obvious to the entire group that they were having an affair.
The entire group was up in arms about this because this ‘new’ girl is getting all of the boss’s attention, getting perks, etc. The same old story that you have heard about before.
Needless to say, I too am upset. I am losing Mary, my BFF. I figured we were friends enough to keep being friends even through her affair. Obviously not.
What bugged me about the entire thing is that I told my boss (who was also a friend) that his affair with her was ruining my work relationship and my personal relationship with Mary.
He denied to my face that they were having an affair, which was such BS, because I overheard him talking to her on the phone saying how he wanted to come over to her place for one of their ‘status meetings’ and make out with her (Side note: There were also a couple of photos of them that were taken by people on the team – One was taken in the office at a group celebration for someone’s birthday.
In the background, you can see them in his office with his hands on her butt, and another one where the team was out to a concert where everyone was drinking. People finally noticed that they disappeared. One of the women in the group took a pic of them kissing in his car). Of course, I didn’t tell them about these pictures during our talk. Eff him and her.
Less than a month later, we do a shuffling of cube locations, ‘to better align the people who work on projects together.’ I am moved to a ‘deserted island’ – no one around me.
Handwriting is on the wall. One month after that I am cc’d on an email to my contracting firm informing them that my last day will be 2 weeks from that email.
So through this whole thing, my ‘friend’ just quit hanging out (and I get why) and stopped caring.
Mary pretty much just dumped me as a friend. I didn’t like it. I tried to ask her why to see if she would say anything at all– no dice. Her allegiance was to Paul now.
I told her that I was upset. She told me she didn’t care and didn’t have time for me. If you want to have an affair go for it.
The whole affair part didn’t bother me (too much).
I will admit to some envy there, but I am not going to sacrifice everything I have for some tail. Just not worth it to me. What bothered me was the lack of respect that they both showed me. I was pretty honest with both of them about what the team was saying, how everyone was feeling, etc.
What they did was take my honesty and use it so that they could cover up their affair better.
For example, when I said people were noticing that she would leave and then Paul would get his coat on and leave within 5 min, he started leaving his coat in the office and leaving about 15 min after her.
When I said that people noticed he was giving gifts to her and not to the group then all of a sudden the group started getting stuff too.
Stuff like that.
What was funny (in a messed up way) is that about 4 months after I was gone, she started being friendly again, random, ‘How are you?’, ‘My day sucked’ texts. Anyway, I moved on work-wise. Still texted her every few days after she started texting me. Again, nothing major. Just pleasantries. But that anger was still inside me because of how vulnerable I made myself to her and how I felt I was used.
So I resolved to get even.
I waited a full year (and heard that she had accepted a full-time position with my former boss). I then sent an anonymous email to his wife letting her know about the affair and giving her details and the proof (the pictures) too.
Mary, of course, called me, so did my former boss. He was livid! I told both of them that I did not do anything (‘How could I, I have been gone for more than a year.
I don’t know anything about your life anymore!’)
I heard that both of them got tossed out of their homes and are getting divorced.
They deserve each other.
Moral of the story, if you are going to have an affair be discreet and keep your friends close. Or have the nerve to say, ‘I don’t want to be friends anymore,’ and not be a passive-aggressive douchebag. Because if not, they may become your enemy and might be even more passive-aggressive and look for revenge. Did it make me feel better that I did it? HECK yes.”
Another Users Comments:
“Your tale, if anything, serves as another example (and reminder) that people should just not get romantically involved at work. It’s more drama than it’s worth — especially if you’re married already.” Reddit user
6. Try Not Stealing My Wife Next Time
“My former best friend and former best friend have been like family to my wife and me for several years, practically ever since we moved in across the street from them. The four of us were extremely tight. Our kids are the same age as theirs and are all good friends. We were one big family unit. We did dinner together a few times a week.
We went on vacations together. I truly saw my former best friend like a brother, and my wife and former best friend were very close too.
Five months ago, I was completely blindsided by the discovery of an affair between my wife and my former best friend. My wife had left her email open on our computer, and I saw an email from her to her longtime therapist saying that my former best friend would be joining her at an upcoming session ‘again.’ Uh, WTF? My mind started racing – why in the world would my former best friend be going to her therapy sessions without my knowledge? I did a search and found some other emails to and from the therapist proving that my former best friend had been going to sessions together with her for about six weeks.
I checked our mobile phone account and discovered that, since late summer, they had been exchanging hundreds of texts every day, peaking at nearly 500/day by the holidays. Speaking of the holidays, my wife and I hosted both of our families (parents, siblings, etc) for both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner, and my former best friend and my former best friend’s wife joined us either for dinner or after dinner on both holidays.
Text records showed that the entire time that they were at our house celebrating with our families, my wife, and my former best friend were texting each other across the room.
They were doing that pretty much every time the four of us hung out, for months. And, you know, all day every day just in general. But what bothers me the most is that they were doing it with my former best friend’s wife and me right there.
I confronted my wife with the evidence and she admitted that yes, she and my former best friend had fallen in love. ‘It just happened! I don’t know how! But I love him and I just don’t feel anything for you anymore, I’m sorry!’ They had gone on a school district trip together, something had happened in her hotel room, and things had moved quickly from there.
She explained as I lay face-down on the couch, unable to look at her, that they had already made plans to move out and divorce me and my former best friend’s wife, and while they didn’t plan to move in together immediately because of the kids, they’d probably do so eventually. The meetings with the therapist were supposedly mostly for the purpose of finding a way to break this to me and my former best friend’s wife as gently as possible because they were so very concerned about our well-being (my former best friend’s wife and I are fairly certain that they weren’t planning on telling us about the affair at all, and were simply going to ‘discover’ their feelings for one another several months down the line after they’d come up with some other reason to divorce the two of us).
My wife moved out two months ago. I was, and still am, utterly destroyed. I cry every day. I cried writing the first few paragraphs of this story just now. I worry non-stop about the impact on our kids. But I am also not exactly a shrinking violet when I feel that I’ve been wronged. And in this case, I was, objectively, very very wronged.
So, a couple of years ago, my former best friend ran for a Board of Education seat as a pretty extreme underdog.
I helped him with his campaign materials and debate prep, and my wife, a well-known school district employee (this becomes important later), got the word out as best she could.
Much to our surprise, he actually won in a squeaker, by just a few dozen votes.
Being on the Board became the center of my former best friend’s world. He joined every committee that he could. This turned into the foundation of his affair with my wife, as they were constantly going to school events and meetings together on evenings and weekends.
Once I discovered the affair, my thoughts turned pretty quickly to revenge, and it occurred to me that an extramarital affair between a member of the Board of Education and an employee of the school district was at least bad politics and possibly violated district policy.
Making things far worse for them was that my wife was in the running for an open administrative position, and everyone knew that she was more or less guaranteed the job and the major pay raise that came with it.
She had just finished her master’s degree in school administration, at the urging of her principal and the superintendent, so that she could be promoted to this specific position.
I had plenty of evidence of the affair – texts from both of them admitting to it, text records showing that they were texting hundreds of times a day, emails to and from the therapist, etc.
I considered simply emailing all of the evidence to the Board and the superintendent but felt like I, as the grieving, betrayed spouse, might not be seen as a credible source.
So instead, I invented a fictitious ‘furious friend’ who was planning on showing up to the next Board meeting and publicly shaming the two of them for their affair. I told my wife that I’d tried to talk this person down but couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t show up and humiliate them publicly. As I expected, this led my former best friend to conclude that the only option was for him to preemptively admit the affair to the Board.
The superintendent subsequently recommended that my former best friend resign, which he did. My former best friend’s wife said that he was utterly humiliated and crushed, and barely got out of bed for a few days afterward.
Once word of the affair and my former best friend’s resignation started getting around, the superintendent (a longtime friend of both my wife and my former best friend) contacted my wife and tearfully informed her that it was no longer politically appropriate for her to be promoted to an administrative position within the district.
The position that had been lined up for her was later filled by an outside candidate.
This sent waves of confusion and rumor throughout the district, as it was pretty well-known that my wife was getting the job. The day after she was informed that she wasn’t getting the promotion, my wife and I, despite our crumbling marriage, took our son out to breakfast together on his birthday, and a parent stopped by our table to congratulate her on her new role.
She said thanks, then excused herself to go cry in the bathroom for a while.
I let the dust settle for a couple of weeks, and then, right before my wife moved out, let them in on my little secret – there was never a ‘furious friend’ threatening to expose them in the first place.
Word of all of this has gotten around our fairly small town, which my former best friend grew up in and my wife has worked in for nearly 20 years.
My wife refuses to talk to me about how things are at work now, but I’ve heard from some people I know in the district that her formerly spotless reputation has taken a major hit. My former best friend, formerly a gregarious social presence in our neighborhood and at events and pubs in town, has completely gone underground and barely emerges to mow his lawn. He’s moving out soon, to a crappy little townhouse which is all he can afford due to all the child support he’s going to have to pay his wife.
My wife and my former best friend claim that they plan on trying to make things work together, despite all the public humiliation. I wish them lots of luck with that. I’m sure it will be a lot of fun to show their faces together in town.”
5. Try To Screw Me Over On Room Checkout? Pay For Hazmat Cleanup
“My roommate met his lady early in the first semester.
Things started out pretty well. It had all the trappings of young love. There were plenty of times when I would come back to the room to find a rubber band on the doorknob of our room, signaling that I should not come in as they were doing the horizontal tango. That was all fine and dandy.
I didn’t mind if they asked me to relocate because they wanted some alone time. All good.
However, waking up in the middle of the night to them was not okay. Waking up because I got hit in the face with her underwear was not okay.
Being shown pictures of myself asleep with their underthings arranged on my pillow was not okay. I tried talking to them about this stuff like an adult.
I explained to them face to face and in writing that their special adult frolic time, while otherwise 100% fine by me, needed to happen when I wasn’t in the room. Neither of them was willing to have that conversation and any degree of congeniality between my roommate and myself utterly disintegrated.
I finally threw enough of a fit with the residential life staff that Romeo and Juliet took their act elsewhere (namely, the music practice rooms in the art building).
The fall semester went on with a kind of cold war between my roommate and myself. So January rolls around and my roommate takes a January Term course that has him traveling for the month. Yay for peace and quiet. Only not so much.
One morning, as I was hanging out in the room in my birthday suit, having just showered and thoroughly enjoying having the room to myself for the month, the door unlocks and my roommate’s lady walks in.
She demands that I get dressed. I demand that she GTFO of my room. Apparently, my roommate gave her his room key and told her she could hang out whenever without talking to me at all.
This did not improve my relationship with my roommate.
Spring midterms roll around. I have a take-home exam for one of my classes that had a time limit. I emailed my roommate and his lady that I needed the room to take my midterm.
We agreed on a specific time and day, which wound up being the day the exam was due, four hours before it was to be handed in. The exam was to take three hours. I verbally confirmed that my roommate knew I would be working on my exam at the agreed-upon time (mid-afternoon). I expressed willingness for my roommate and his girl to be in the room, they just needed to be quiet enough for me to take my exam.
Needless to say, at this point, I was spending as little time in my room as possible. I wanted to take the exam in my room because if I wanted to use the library, I would have to lug all my course books all the way across campus. And, it was smack in the middle of Spring Rush. My college has a disproportionately large Greek life program, so finding a free table during mandatory study hours for all the wee pledges was like trying to get a Nintendo Switch when they first came out.
So anyway, I get to my room and find a note on the dry erase board, ‘Occupied. Knock and return in 2 hours. Thanks, Management.’
Nope. I was done. I ‘knocked’ by slamming my boot into the kickplate on the door. I then opened the door to find quite the arrangement.
The first thing I saw was my roommate’s photography set up with lighting arranged at the foot of his bed.
Let’s just say, they were contorted in very complicated positions in front of a camera wearing nothing more than their birthday suits.
Double nope. At this point, I completely lost it; so much so that everybody that was hanging around the floor came out to see what had me so upset.
I had the presence of mind to keep the door propped open. To this day, I have no idea how they got into that arrangement, but everyone that stayed around to watch told me it took them a good long while to get out.
Revenge part 1, check.
Fast forward to the end of the year. My roommate cleared his stuff out of the room while I was in my last final. During that time, he and his lady trashed the room. They covered the surfaces with bumper stickers. And, apparently, roomie had been storing their used rubbers in his desk drawer.
It was horrific. But… the Resident Assistant that was checking me out of the dorm room was aware of the ongoing issues with my roommate.
And, I just happened to have photographic proof that the stickers weren’t there before, so my roommate got to pay for 100% of the cost for the refinishing of the room and the hazmat cleanup as a consequence of trying to screw me over on room checkout.”
Another User Comments:
“Reading the line about them screwing in the practice rooms really got me heated. Being a music student, I know that (at least at my school), A. There isn’t enough soundproofing in them so they would easily be heard. B. A musician looking for a practice room for said practicing would easily find them. C. The music students would not only complain, but find various ways to force them out, like practicing long tones for 2 hours. D. They would get kicked out of the building pretty fast.” metalmiltofrand
4. Time To Fling Poop
“My neighbors had a huge dog (and it was actually really nice unlike them). And almost every day they would walk the dog and let it poop in our yard. This happened for many months and as usual, when my dad tried to talk to them about it, they just cursed at us and told us off.
Well, one day my dad walked outside to get the mail and saw a huge fresh steamer right in the grass.
By this point, he was beyond fed up so he went to the shed and grabbed a big freaking shovel and scooped up the hot poop. He then walked over to the neighbor’s house, popped open the screen door, took a few steps back, and flung the steamy crap as hard as he could all over their front door.
Of course, they saw what happened almost immediately and freaked out. They started threatening us and my dad just turned around, walked home, and put the shovel away.
After that their dog didn’t take a dump in our yard anymore.”
3. Ruining The Reputation Of My Terrible Foster Parents
“My parents both passed in a hit and run car accident when I was ten. My dad was only 39 and my mom 35. Neither of them had relatives who could take me in.
We lived in a really small, church-going town where everyone knew one another.
My dad had been the heir to a small fortune and so didn’t really have to work. He didn’t like the big city, so he and my mom decided to move to a small town where he could have an antique store.
My mom was into collecting antiques.
I would have had to go the orphanage route when they died, but this couple from the church, who I will call Mr.
and Mrs. Banks, made this big to-do in church about how “a little girl needs a loving home, and God has given us this joyous task of bringing her up in our home and hearts.” It’s been a long time and I don’t remember if those were Mrs.
Banks’ exact words, but they were something cringe-worthy like that.
The Banks had their own daughter “Kitty” who was a year older than me.
That should have meant we would be super good friends, but Kitty had her own thing going and practically ignored me. She was a holier than thou type. The Banks received a stipend from the state to take care of me, but they also received checks every month from my dad’s estate, which was supposed to take care of me until I was eighteen.
When I did turn eighteen, I would receive full control of my inheritance.
The Banks weren’t exactly cruel to me, but in private it was clear they were just using me to build up their reputation in town.
In front of other people, they’d fawn over me in a sick, cotton candy fashion that made me uncomfortable. They’d also make Kitty be nice to me in public, which she resented.
The Banks would also put on a big show whenever social workers came to check up on me.
They’d coach me before the lady would come, and tell me to praise how godly and wonderful they were.
After the social worker left, they’d go right back to ignoring me and spending my dad’s change on crap on the internet or on trips.
It was clear to me even as a tween and teen that the Banks were only using some of my endowment, both from the state and from my trust, to take care of me.
The rest, they spent on themselves. As I grew older I could see that my foster parents would pretend as though they had great business acumen and that’s why they had more riches and could buy a new Volvo (where I’m from, a new Volvo is an event) and take a trip to New York and buy fancy clothes for Kitty. When I was seventeen I noticed that my foster parents were stockpiling away my trust fund to pay for Kitty’s tuition to college.
Throughout this time, the Banks would never outright say so, but would heavily imply that I “owed them” and that once I got control of my inheritance, that I should be Godly and generous and give them some material compensation for “all the work” they did to raise me.
I think they already got lots of material, especially since Mrs. Banks practically stole all of my mom’s antiques from her store and kept them for herself, gave them to Kitty, or to her other relatives.
One thing my mom never kept at her store was an extremely expensive, Baroque-era fine china set, absolutely complete and worth tens of thousands of dollars. Not a replica, but the real deal. So real, Napoleon Bonaparte himself might well have eaten a steak off those plates. Probably not, but you get the point. It was my china set of course, but Mrs. Banks thought I was an idiot and didn’t know that.
She would always talk about how “this china set will go to Kitty on her wedding day.”
Mrs. Banks assumed that since I always dressed like a tomboy, I didn’t care about all my mom’s antiques that Mrs. Banks stole or gave away, that I just didn’t care about the china set.
When I was a kid, my mom told me that things were things, and not to obsess over them.
So, having the frou-frou china set for me wasn’t an issue. What WAS an issue was Mrs. Banks acting like it was hers to give away.
So, once Kitty went off to college thanks to MY biological mom and dad’s wealth, I had to make my own plans.
I had always done well in school and had actually gotten a partial scholarship to attend school out of state.
The rest, I could easily pay for with my inheritance, which I would very soon have control of.
Per usual, Mr. and Mrs. Banks were haranguing me about how I owed them compensation and since I was going to be rich soon I ought to share the wealth.
I figured that over the past seven years they probably stole or misappropriated more than two hundred thousand dollars of my parents’ riches, to say nothing of the state they misused.
I think they more than shared the wealth.
I never promised anything, I just smiled and kept a tally of every single bank statement (I got them quarterly) that my trust issued over the years. The Banks family never shared them with me of course but when I asked the actual Bank for a rundown, they were more than happy to oblige.
I also wrote down every single major purchase my foster parents clearly made over the past seven years with that was clearly beyond their means as a housewife and an insurance salesman.
Things such as a $40,000 car for change, a used $20,000 car for change that they gave to Kitty, trips to Hawaii, New York, gifts to the church that made them look super generous at my deceased parents’ expense… I kept it all in a nice, three-ring binder.
I already arranged my travel to my new campus. I didn’t have much stuff at the Banks’ house anyway and had zero intention of coming back, at least to their home.
The Banks knew I was leaving but didn’t bother seeing me off, because they assumed I’d come back to “give them their due.”
I waited for our church’s yearly antique sale extravaganza, set to begin in three days.
Per usual, the Banks donated all sorts of random stuff, many of it knick-knacks that used to belong to my mom and technically belonged to me. They weren’t shy about giving away my stuff and taking credit for it.
While Mr. and Mrs. Banks were on one of their shopping sprees with my parents’ and away from their house, I boxed up the china set and brought it to church.
I told the rummage sale committee that Mrs. Banks wanted to donate the priceless antiques for sale, all benefits to go to the church.
“This donation is made in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Banks.”
I was being fair.
If Mrs. Banks was really so godly, she would be delighted that such a wonderful donation be made in her name.
Sadly, I knew she’d go the other way because she was faker than implants.
The ladies were flabbergasted, especially when I told them the appraisal of the set’s value. I also told them that if they needed proof of ownership and right to sell, to contact the number of a certain attorney in New York.
They thanked me profusely and praised the Lord Jesus for Mrs. Banks’ generosity. This would be the most expensive item in their sales history. Everyone knew no one could afford to buy the set outright, but everyone would love to buy the pieces piecemeal.
Like, “I got a cup and saucer,” or “I got one of the chargers,” “I got an egg cup…”
The Banks were supposed to work the sale the second day and I wasn’t there.
What I did hear was that my foster mom went ballistic when she saw “her” china set for sale and that it was a huge hit, and ladies from all over the county had bought pieces of it, and it raised SO much for the church!
My foster mom threw a tantrum and said that I had stolen the set from her house.
The ladies at the church explained that I had made the donation in HER name, and she was getting credit for the donation to the church.
My foster mom was practically yanking her hair out, according to what I heard later.
She was trying to track down who had bought pieces and trying to get them back. Of course, she was unsuccessful.
What she WAS successful in was looking like a Grade A douchebag.
The entire church thought she was selfish and materialistic and acting very ungodly, especially the way she cursed her foster daughter.
A week later my foster parents received a package by registered mail from me and my attorney. It contained my binder where I showed my bank statements and also a list of all their spending extravagances. It also contained a warning from my attorney that should they ever try to contact me again for change, that they will receive a BILL and a court date.
That was that.
Ten years later, I work as a third-grade teacher. I’m married to an accountant, and we have a three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter.
Kitty ended up working through college, and as we’ve gotten older, we’ve reconnected.
She apologized for the way she acted when we were kids. We’re friends now, and see each other multiple times a year, often just for lunch. She’s an elementary school teacher, too, and married to an engineer.
She has a four-year-old daughter. Both of our older kids play together when our families meet.
We both have our OWN wedding china.
She has gone to a lot of therapy due to her toxic parents, she tells me.
As for her parents?
They still live in their small town because they’re too broke to move.
Their reputation is of being “that couple who drove both their children away and stole from that poor little girl whose parents died, and they tried to steal from Jesus when they whined about getting their baroque china back.
I hope your Volvo was worth it, A-holes.”
2. Never Steal This Man's Chick
“I live with my GF Karen and my old grade school friend Jake who was working as a ‘sales rep.’
We live on the outskirts of a well-known city in the states.
I was in my late 20’s I found myself looking for work as a bar I was working at closed down.
Knowing I was desperate for work Jake calls me and tells me his new GF Jill just purchased a motel/bar with a small kitchen and she is after hired help.
Needless to say, I jump at the opportunity as Karen wasn’t working, the bills were piling up and out health insurance was due.
I called Jill, arranged to meet her at her new property to introduce myself.
Jake made the introductions in person and had already told Jill I was a hands-on DIY person with hospitality experience.
Now to explain, my Dad is sparky and believes if you can pay someone to fix something, you could probably do it cheaper your self.
He taught me lots and still does to this day.
After a 30 minute chat, Jill tested me with a few odd jobs like rewiring an outlet, fixing a clogged sink and quizzed me on liquor laws.
Needless to say, I was hired that day.
Originally work was all about getting the property ready for business. Jill thought it would have been minor works (paint, replacement of fixings and furniture) we soon found out the electrical wires were shot, the whole place needed re-wiring which was a cause of stress for Jill as it would have blown her budget.
Lucky for Jill, my Dad was between contracts and offered his services using leftover stock (already paid for from other jobs), Jill would need to cover the cost of any new product required.
As for labor, his payment, he said he enjoys a steak and beer on Friday nights. After 3 weeks of helping Dad, the wiring was done, was up to code and at a fraction of the cost.
Jill and I spent 1-2 months painting all 15 motel rooms, bistro, bar. Cleaning the kitchen, cool rooms etc. Jake would offer to help but always left after 20 minutes saying he has to “make a sale”.
Jill often worked well into the night. After all, this was her dream. I’d take some furniture home to restore after hours and return it once restored.
Business opened up after 6 months (and thanks to Dad) opened under budget.
Jill managed the business and ran the kitchen, I worked where I was needed. In the kitchen, on the bar, tending to maintenance. I was on salary, second in charge and could work in any position.
Things went smoothly for a year. Business was turning a profit. Dad was getting his weekly beer and steak. Karen seemed happy, Jake was still working as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company.
One day I felt crook at work, so I clocked off and went home early. Pulling into my driveway, with the exception of a turning gut, things felt normal. Jake’s car was there but he lived there so I didn’t think anything was wrong.
As usual, I parked behind Jake (important for later). when I opened the door I found Karen doing the reverse cowgirl with Jake on the couch.
After seeing me Jake grabbed his pants and ran out through the back door. Karan and I argued into the night, she tried blaming me saying I’m never home, I’m spending too much time with Jill (we were keeping things professional, I was her employee).
I went to bed and told her she can sleep in Jake’s bed as she clearly finds it more comfortable.
I called Jill and informed her of this as Jake was her man, she was upset as he was unfaithful to her but admitted she suspected he was seeing someone else.
Jill offered me a room at the motel until I figure out my next move.
The next day I loaded my personal effects in the truck.
(Jake’s car was still there as I had blocked it in) I told Karen she can keep the rental and the furniture. I said Karen I’d be back for my tools in a few hours and I would appreciate if she wasn’t there.
I went home that afternoon to load my tools into my truck, while I was grabbing something from under my workbench I found a bag I wasn’t familiar with… Upon closer inspection, I found and a large number of little tablets.
The way they were packed and hidden made me realize they were probably for selling. A thorough search of the house led to me finding 2 more bags and about 12k in change.
I put 2 and 2 together and realized that Jake’s pharmaceutical sales job was code for dealer, and Jake probably traded pills to Karen for naughty fun time. I was beyond angry until I realized that I have all I need to get him back.
Jake’s car still hadn’t moved, I went inside and grabbed his spare keys, chucked on a pair of gloves that were in the garage.
I put half the stuff and one bag of stuff in his boot and thought “hang on, this won’t pass”, I removed his spare tire from the wheel well and put the bag in there. The other 2 bags, I threw them down the storm drain in the laneway behind my house.
As for the 6k change? Jake did cost me a house full of furniture! Just saying.
I sent a message to both Jake and Karen with the typical hurt script, “I can’t believe you did this, we were friends blah blah blah.
I’ve left I hope you two are happy together.” I then made an anonymous tip to the local police and ATF about a man fitting Jake’s description, loading what looks like into the boot of a car that sounded Jake’s car and provided a partial number plate number that matched Jake’s car.
It didn’t take long for law enforcement to find the car and locate the substances. What I wasn’t counting on is Karen was driving the car at the time. She was later released when they found out she was driving the wrong car at the wrong time. A warrant went out for Jake’s arrest.
The icing on the cake. I found out later that not only was the police after Jake, but his supplier was also as well as he lost a lot of product.
Fast forward 3 months, I purchased a house, I was still working with Jill. Karen was pregnant with Jake’s baby and he was on the run. I suspected she was keeping contact with Jake because she suddenly left the district when she was 8 months pregnant.
12 months after the incident, after an intoxicated night, Jill and I mixed business with pleasure and started seeing each other.
That was 10 years ago.
we are married, have 2 children and just opened our 3rd business.
Dad still gets his Weekly steak and Beer.
I did hear a rumor that Jake and Karen wound up in Alaska but can’t confirm this.
I do feel a little bad about it now because Jake made it possible for me to date Jill and live a wonderful life. I do hope he is well.”
1. Better Watch Out For Your Window
Hi everyone, This isn’t my pro revenge, but my builder’s from about 15 years ago when they were building my house.
The architect for our house was insistent on sash windows, and the only maintenance-free sash windows that were available in my country at the time were only available from one manufacturer. Now, this manufacturer had a very stuck up and slippery sales rep, who insisted on doing ALL the measurements himself, including the custom bay window.
This rep also dropped a couple of demo windows to show off, and he left them with our builders on site for a few weeks.
If you’re not familiar, brick construction in the UK comprises an inner cinderblock wall and an external wall, creating a cavity for insulation. This becomes important later…
The windows turn up on the construction site, and the builders get round to fitting them.
All of them go in fine apart from the bay window. It didn’t fit. This absolute pillock had measured the internal cinder block and NOT the external brick, this meant the window was slightly small.
My angry builder phones the sales rep and tells him that the window is the wrong size and that they need to supply a new one. The sales rep turns into an arsehole and blames our builder saying he supplied the wrong dimension.
Their arguing goes back and forth, but the sales rep doesn’t budge. Our builder had no other choice than to buy another window, since all the other windows were paid for and fitted at this point. These windows were expensive, and the builder was VERY furious.
Now, this is where the revenge comes in. At this point sales rep still hadn’t collected his demo window, and our builder wanted revenge on this slimy sales rep.
Our builder gets some silicone bathroom sealant, opens the demo windows, and fills the seams full of the stuff, then closes the window, basically gluing this window shut.
The sales rep eventually collects the demo window so he can show off to a potential client.
One of the selling points of these windows was that you could open them with one finger, so now imagine sales rep in front of a potential customer failing to open this window with one finger, now imagine the sales rep trying to open the window with all his strength and it still not opening. Karma served.
Angry sales rep eventually works out the builders sealed the window shut.
He then rings our builders screaming at them, going on about how he just lost a £450,000 contract to supply the windows to new building development. The builders at this point were in hysterics and the butthurt sales rep threatens to sue them. They never got another word off the sales rep in the end. The moral of the story is; own up to your mistakes!