People Retell Their 'Off The Wall' Revenge Stories
17. Ruining The Grades Of My Bullies
“When I was in high school, I took AP classes, and my favorite subject was English. (Still is, went on to get my Bachelor’s degree in it.) For my senior year, though, I was stuck in one of two AP classes on campus for 6th period, and this one had all the kids I didn’t get along with. Some were neutral, some were just the kind of stuck-up that didn’t associate with anyone except their friends, but a good portion were active bullies of mine.
They would openly mock me (my weight, my social awkwardness/anxiety, a couple were even very prejudiced to me but not the other girls in the class), ostracize me, and tried to turn the neutral kids against me. I’m not saying I was perfect, but I was a quiet kid and tried not to bother anyone unless I was attempting to defend myself. I was also being harassed in my 7th-period library aide class; this comes into play later.
The class was laid out in “islands” – each island was made up of six desks, and your island was your group for whenever group activities came up. Ms. Cindy, the teacher, initially had assigned seats, but since the class was so small (about 26 or so), and everyone knew each other, and everyone moved seats to be with their friends. Except for me because I didn’t have any friends in this class. My whole island moved away from me, and I sat in the back corner island alone, surrounded by five other desks.
We were reading a book that not very many people enjoyed, and when Ms.
Cindy announced the big research project for it, everyone had to get into groups with their islands, write a research paper, and give a presentation to the class. The presentation had to be some form of visual medium (PowerPoint, pamphlets, etc.), and effort would be taken into account for a grade. She also said that, since the only thing that mattered for the college credit was the grade on the AP test at the end of the year, this project would be graded on a curve.
I think she was trying to make it easier.
Of course, everyone in class groaned, nearly everyone hated the book, but we dutifully started. I, on my lonely island, started working on my own, but Ms. Cindy, trying to give me a fighting chance, told me to go find an island to join. Each other island had at least one open desk. I went over to each island and was promptly rejected. Some did it silently, moving their backpacks or books to the empty seat(s) basically saying, “You can’t sit with us,” but the two islands with the more vocal bullies basically straight up said they didn’t want me.
Ms. Cindy started to press the issue, but I told her not to worry. I got this.
I was hurt, sure. But bullying was not foreign to me. As I said earlier, I was being harassed in my 7th-period class (asked inappropriate questions and mocked my chest size and lack of experience by two other girls), and around this time, I was going to administration to get it sorted. So I had a feeling that I was likely going to switch classes.
Therefore, the plan formed: I would utterly wreck that curved grade, ruining the assignment grade for the whole class, then dip the heck out.
Thus, it began. I wrote the best 10-page research paper of my entire high school career (it only had to be 7 pages), and I made a freaking documentary. Not a PowerPoint, not a pamphlet, not anything easy or trivial.
No. This was a 14-minute masterpiece comparing and contrasting this book with Mark Twain’s body of work, namely Huckleberry Finn.
Fully acted with me, my younger brother, and his then-partner pretending to be the experts that I quoted in my research paper. (Basically took the quotes and read them in different costumes that made us look professional and professorial.) I narrated the points, edited scenes from plays and movies and pictures, and everything I could, included music, effects, Photoshop, everything my dad had taught me about editing videos. And my favorite part? The credits, where everything was made by ME.
(Of course I credited my brother and his partner for their acting roles, but I did everything else by myself.)
The day before the project was slated to start being presented, a Wednesday, I was notified that I would be getting my classes switched beginning that next Monday. I would no longer be in either of the toxic classes, and I would be able to be with my friends in 7th period English. Hooray!
But I had worked too hard on my stupid revenge, so I was glad to wait the couple extra days.
Thursday rocked up, and the presentations are your normal fare.
They’re… fine. But the kids presenting them basically just read off of about five slides, one per kid at the island. It seems there had been some sort of agreement between them all that, since it was a curve, they’d all turn in around the same quality work and get a good grade. No one had bothered to clue me in on this because, hey, I’m the loser idiot working on a group project alone. No way I’d be able to pull off better, right?
Friday comes, and I’m the second to last one.
(Islands were drawn randomly.) I go up to Ms. Cindy and hand her my paper and my flash drive. Nothing unusual; most everyone else had brought in a flash drive. But when she plugged it in, and I sat back down, she was utterly confused.
“CoalTownQueen, where’s your PowerPoint? You need to come up and present.”
“I don’t have a PowerPoint.”
“You don’t have a presentation?”
“I didn’t say that. Try that .mp4 file.”
She does. She hits the lights. And my masterpiece is shown.
I can see every single other islands’ reactions. Most were silently grumbly. The one or two truly overambitious types looked petrified, knowing this had wrecked the curve they’d been banking on. But the best was the vocal bullies; they GLARED at me, didn’t watch a second of the film. They whispered furiously to the rest of their islands, but some of them were shushed because the others were enjoying my documentary! Ha!
My work was done. And Monday I was gone.
But the grade remained because I had turned it in while I was still in that other class.
I got a 96% (100 for the movie, 92 for the paper). And the rest of the class, according to the nice kids in my new 7th period English class who knew some of the kids in 6th, averaged about a C, C+. For some of them, that must have HURT. Some of us had really strict parents. But I wrecked their curve and showed that I didn’t need their acceptance. It felt good.
I know Ms. Cindy used my movie for a few years to show other classes, but I don’t know if she still does. The rest of my senior year after the class switch went pretty smoothly, and I got to enjoy it with my friends.”
16. Steal My Food Because You're Lazy? I Won't Make Your Pizza For You
“My dad is an incredibly selfish and very lazy person. He will take the easy option even if it inconveniences someone else; he doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t have to do much.
I had started a diet, so I had made some prepped meals to take to work (anyone who has ever been on a diet knows how hard it is and how tetchy you get about your food). I’m very fussy about what I eat and will only microwave certain foods (my dad knows this).
I had made some pasta and put them in the refrigerator.
Some were marked with a P for pork, and the others were chicken and weren’t marked. I went to my sisters for a couple of days and took some of the meals with me. The rest I left at home in the fridge. These were for taking to work for the rest of the week (my dad knew this!)
I came home at the weekend as it was my cheat day, and I was going to make pizza for the family.
I make my own dough and sauce for this. I go to the fridge to get the stuff out to start making the sauce, and half of my meals are gone! I call my dad and ask him:
Me: Did you take my meals out of the fridge?!
Dad: I thought I could because they didn’t have a P on them!
I hung up on him when he said that (he had been told by me more than once not to touch any of them).
I was fuming at this. He knew exactly what he was doing but did it anyway because as I said he is extremely selfish. I text my mom about what he did (I don’t call her when she’s at work unless it’s an emergency as she is a nurse, and it doesn’t look professional answering her phone).
She was on a break and called me straight away. She told me she had questioned him when she saw him taking my meals, and his response was I’d said he could.
At this point, I have steam coming out of my ears as he had royally screwed with my diet.
My meals had all been measured so as to not go over my calorie intake for the day. I had also prepped for the week, so I wouldn’t have an excuse to be lazy and grab junk.
Now I’m down half of my meals for the week and won’t have time to prep anymore because I have other things to be doing as well as making the pizza for my family. Then the light bulb moment happens; he took my food because he was too lazy to make his own lunch…
Well, have fun making your own pizza.
I made everyone else’s pizza and left him the dough for his in a bowl and enough sauce in a side dish to put on his pizza. He was going to be back late, and I knew he would be expecting his pizza waiting for him already cooked, so all he had to do was reheat it.
I told my mom what I was doing and why. She happily signed off on it as she knew my dad would not make his own and thought it would teach him a lesson.
I wasn’t there when he got home because I would’ve thrown something at him. My mom told me that he wasn’t happy to come home after being out all day (he wasn’t at work, just out at one of his many hobbies that cost a fortune) and find out he had to make his own pizza. He didn’t and just had soup from a can. However, the next time I saw him, I got the first and only apology from him that I can ever remember.”
15. Work Lunch Thief No Longer Gets A Promotion
“Nobody likes a lunch thief, and I had one of the most aggressive at my office.
There were rumors for a few months leading up to the inciting incident of someone going around and taking peoples’ lunches. Just about every day, someone different would complain that their lunch was missing.
It even happened to me once or twice, but I figured, hey, it’s a big office; a few people are probably just careless and grab the wrong lunch and are too embarrassed to bring it back, or someone else packs their lunch, and they don’t know what’s in there, so it’s not obvious they have the wrong one, or whatever.
Most people just brought brown bags with their names on them anyways or identical Rubbermaid Tupperware with a little piece of labeled tape on the side.
It was easy enough to mix it up.
I had accidentally grabbed a wrong lunch once or twice, but I’d noticed before I got it open. I thought I was just more careful, or even just not as busy, as some other people in the building.
However, other people weren’t as forgiving, and a quorum made complaints to HR. They were blown off. Personally, at the time, I thought it was all much ado about nothing.
But then it began.
My partner enrolled in a French cooking class online, and just about every day, I was bringing fancy gourmand leftovers in for lunch. You’d think I was picking up a to-go bag from a Michelin starred bistro on the way in each morning; she really threw herself into the coursework.
There were no problems for about two weeks, maybe three, until one day my lunch went missing. Considering what delicacies I had to look forward to, I was pretty miffed, but I did a once over around the break room and didn’t see anyone eating my lunch so figured someone grabbed my bag by accident earlier, saw how good things looked, and—realizing it was their lucky day—didn’t bring it back to the fridge.
I wrote the mysterious stranger off as a jerk but accepted the loss and looked forward to dinner that night instead.
The next day, I write my name on my lunch in extra bold lettering, jam the bag into the back of the fridge, and feel peace of mind.
I get there come break time, nope, it’s gone. I was pretty upset, but I figured it was a stroke of bad luck and left it at that. What else could I do?
However, on the third day, out of an abundance of caution, I kept my lunch at my desk. A pain, because I had to eat it fairly early in the day to avoid spoilage, but at least I’d know where it was.
I got up to take care of some business down the hall and when I came back… Yep, my lunch was gone.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help me narrow it down much at all because my desk is centrally located so everyone’s constantly passing by.
At that point, there was no possibility of the theft being arbitrary, so I approached HR and filed a complaint. Their response, practically verbatim, was, “Employees’ lunches are their personal property, and the company is not responsible for lost or stolen personal items.”
The following day, my lady packed a cream-based soup that really had to be refrigerated.
I was passing by the break room to check on my lunch practically every five minutes. Somehow, it still managed to disappear. I was irate at this point and returned to HR and really blew my top. The best they could do was send a memo around about remembering to check the name on your lunch when you remove it from the fridge, but they made very clear that it was a routine memo and in no way related to my complaints, which were not their jurisdiction, so not an admission of responsibility, because my lunch was my own personal problem.
The only suitable alternative to packing a lunch available in the building are these wretched shrink-wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches from a vending machine.
They’ve been marinating in the heat for God knows how long. And the bread is as stale as corkboard, and the meat is rancid, and there’s gluey mayo smushed into the center. It’s a relic of the old office tenants’, I’m pretty sure.
I vented daily to my partner, but her only idea was to start bringing a regular sandwich and apple again to dissuade the thief and get him to move on to other lunches.
So, determined to prevent this low-life scum from downgrading the quality of my lunch, I hatched an elaborate plan… but then I forgot all about this whole saga because I had to work remotely for months and months.
Then we returned, and after all that had happened, this was the last thing on my mind.
But I got to the break room the first day back, frustrated from having to wear a button-up and tie after months of working in pajamas, sore from my desk chair, and exhausted from small talk, only to find… my lunch was gone.
This was a particularly sore point because my partner and I divorced between my last lunch and work and the present one.
So I did not appreciate being reminded of any past threads involving her. I pretty much flew into a blind rage at that point. Especially seeing that stupid worthless memo about checking the lunch bag names posted in the break room, feeling so helpless and so hungry and so alone as it was me and my lunch against the world.
I stormed out and was determined to return the next day with a plan.
So, I came in the following day… with an empty lunch bag.
And I checked closely to be sure no one was watching and… I switched the contents of the HR person’s lunch bag into my bag. So now their lunch appeared to be my lunch. They’d packed a regular brown bag, so I just discarded that, and I left, and I waited. I knew this was a pretty big gamble because it was contingent on the theory that the thief was avoiding me while having lunch but not wary of anyone else.
So would eat out in the open if there were no risk of bumping into me. I made a big show of going around the office announcing that I was headed out for a meeting, and I wouldn’t be back until at least 3:00 pm.
I even went to the trouble of moving my car out of the lot to a space two streets over. Where I then sat in my car and worked remotely for several hours before sneaking into the building up the back stairway.
I then sat in the stairwell just outside the break room, where you can hear chatter can’t be seen, and after about 20-30 minutes of waiting, I heard it. The sweetest sound I’ll ever hear in the office…
(HR) “What the heck, Kyle. That’s my lunch.”
(Lunch thief!!) “Nah, it’s not your name on the bag.”
(HR) Give me that!
I’m assuming grabs bag and sees my name.
(HR) Yeah, let’s head to my office for a chat.
The HR rep later called me in as well and said they were “aware of my break room hijinks,” but it was obvious that the point still came across loud and clear.
They warned me that it was a violation of policy to move another employee’s lunch—it took every ounce of self-control for me to keep from retorting, “I thought our lunches were our personal property and the company was not responsible for them being lost or stolen?”
They informed me they’d located the thief and things would be handled accordingly.
But better than whatever write-up they might be able to issue Kyle, his reveal as the lunch thief occurred in front of the whole break room. So word quickly spread as to who had been stealing everyone’s lunches earlier last year and he is now the office pariah.
He was in line for a promotion. The promotion is indefinitely off the table. And I also earned brownie points for exposing him, though more than I’m satisfied with are being attributed to HR.
At the end of the day, though, I didn’t do this for this credit, or even the sweet sweet sweet revenge. I did it to get my lunches back.”
14. Keep Stealing, It's Only Going To Cost You Your Dream
All you had to do was not steal. How hard is that?
“This all happened about 5 or 6 years ago; I just thought of this story when social media suggested I add Pete as a friend.
I used to be a bar manager at a decent-sized resort. It had multiple restaurants, bars, and pools. The outdoor pool had a small bar by it. All the bartenders hated to be assigned to that one because the tips were less out there.
I would rotate the bartenders out there, so it was fair for everyone. Pete complained about being out there the most.
In order to make it a little better out there, we would let them close early if sales were below $500 like, for instance, 5 PM instead of 7 PM. Pete was the one that closed early most of the time. I just assumed that he was lazy; everyone else grinded to make the most tips.
Just some info on Pete: he was around 22 or 23, going to school to become a CPA (certified public accountant), and had a frat bro vibe about him.
Well, one day, I get called to the front desk.
Someone there wants to talk to me. When I get there, there is a cop on vacation with his family. He tells me he saw the bartender, Pete, pocketing money out there. I thanked him.
Without proof, I can not do anything, so I convince IT and security to add a new camera hidden in the rafters to cover the register. The one that was out there only covered the bar area. It is shockingly easy to see if he is stealing, watch the camera to see when he makes a drink, then check a register to see if one is rung up.
Plus, everything has a timestamp.
After reviewing the footage, we see that Pete is pocketing money out there, and that is why his sales are low enough to close early.
We are all mad, and the director wants to fire him right away, I convince him a slow approach would be better, that we can make an example of Pete. We let it continue for 3 months ’til the amount stolen is now in the felony amount (in the state, this was considered $2,000).
Pete would only work at this bar 2 or 3 days a week, so it took a little while.
It’s at this point that Pete puts in his 2-week notice because he is going to be graduating college, and he already has a job lined up. So, finally, it is time for my revenge. We wait till 3:45 to have Pete come into the office, and when he comes in, he is greeted to the sight of 2 police, the head of security, the head of HR, the director of food and beverage, and myself.
We don’t even give him the chance to explain; we tell him we have him on tape stealing and that he is being arrested. We have him walk out in handcuffs out the employee entrance just as all the night shift employees are coming into work.
Now see in order to be a CPA one of the requirements is you have to be of good moral character. The felony for theft means that he can never get his CPA license. Needless to say, his job offer is revoked.
So, when I convinced to Director to wait, I knew that was going to prevent him from ever getting his dream job. The moral of the story is do not steal from me.”
13. Fire My Mother For No Reason? You Have Multiple Things Coming For You
“The subject of this story is my mother (for the sake of this story, I’ll call her Amber). She’s in her late 70s and works for a women’s clothing store which caters specifically to an older clientele. She’s been working for this particular company for some 20 years now.
The manager of the store is the absolute epitome of a Karen, so let’s call her Karen. Extremely entitled, short-haired, chubby, and a blatant backstabber. Because the store is staffed by mostly older women, cliques tend to form (it’s basically high school; yes, older women can be that petty), and naturally Karen has her own group.
During periods where no one is in the store, there also tends to be a ton of gossip (important for later). The assistant manager, let’s call her Jackie, is also one of Karen’s lackeys and she has her head way up Karen’s behind; if Karen does something, then Jackie isn’t far behind, etc.
Amber is a bit of a ballbuster, and she has zero-tolerance for garbage in her personal life. Over the years, she has tried to stay impartial when it comes to her work; however, because to her, it’s “all about professionalism.” It also helps that she has been the top seller for her district for some 10 years running despite working part-time.
Karen and Jackie absolutely hate her for it – so much so that Karen routinely schedules her for hours that are not especially good. Despite this, though Amber still has her loyal clientele, and she always comes out on top against the other sales associates in total sales every quarter. As expected, this naturally feeds the horrible feedback loop with Karen and Jackie.
The company decided to cut all commissions for sales associates. The commission was one of the main reasons why Amber endured Karen and Jackie’s shenanigans.
While she only made slightly above the state’s minimum wage, with the commission, she could double or even triple that amount on good days. According to her, no other retailer in the area offers this kind of system, and it’s pretty unlikely that the company will reinstate it. Along with the cut in wages, the store was also forced to decrease the number of hours that they could offer to their associates.
Karen took this as a way to essentially bar Amber from working at the store.
While other associates were getting 8-10 hours a week, Amber would see maybe 6 if she was lucky, and they would be during times of low customer traffic. Karen could get away with this because the district manager is also in her pocket.
Along with the reduced hours and the removal of commissions, the store naturally had a mandatory mask policy for all employees and customers. Karen and her lackeys would often complain and moan about how unnecessary this was and wearing masks make you “subservient to the government.” There were a few incidents where Karen would let people without masks into the store despite the state and company mandates.
Amber refused to rock the boat; however, when this would happen, she would go into the back of the store and stay as far away from these people as possible.
During this period in time, a friend of the family and a good friend of Amber’s passed away. The funeral was set for a time when Amber was scheduled to work, so she called out that day. Karen and Jackie attacked Amber and the deceased.
One day during a shift, Amber was working with a customer in the back and some woman came into the store and stole a couple of items of clothing, probably totaling out to be a hundred dollars at most.
Now it’s company policy that during all shifts, there always be at least two employees in the store, and during this particular stretch of time, Jackie was the only other person in the store. According to the video cameras, Jackie was up in the front of the store playing with her phone when this woman came in.
Normally, if someone steals items from the store, the protocol is to avoid confronting them and instead just call security after they’ve left the store.
This is mainly to avoid lawsuits and to protect the employees should these people choose to get violent (it has happened in the past).
That evening, Amber received a call from Karen telling her that she was on probation pending an investigation for allowing this woman to steal from the store. Given the company’s policy regarding theft, this really made no sense. It was at this point that Amber truly decided she had had enough. Eventually, this “probation” led to Amber’s dismissal, and the official reasoning was fairly vague.
One thing that I forgot to mention, a few years ago, Amber asked me to teach her how to record things on her phone, and luckily, we live in a single consent state.
As such, Amber had recordings of these women backstabbing her and gossiping about rather scandalous things dating back for years. She had gathered quite the collection because “you never know when you need to cover your own butt.”
Over the years, Amber has gone to HR to no real avail (even with her recordings). Whether it be because they are also in the pocket of Karen or that they just don’t care, remains to be seen (the HR department works directly under the district manager).
Amber is also very good at keeping any paperwork and proof of these visits (including some recordings). She also recorded the call where she was fired.
Amber has a ton of very loyal clients who were pretty distraught when they learned of her dismissal. One client, in particular, runs a column at one of the major newspapers for the nearby city (we will call her Casey). Since Amber was a part-time worker, she didn’t really have much of a leg to stand on legally when it came to claiming a wrongful dismissal claim by legal means.
However, that didn’t mean that she didn’t have any kind of recourse. She decided to attack the problem from multiple fronts.
Amber compiled some of the greatest hits from her recording collection and had me email them off to the corporate offices of the company. Specifically, the CEO, CTO, and basically every member of the board of directors (I fired a couple of bursts off to anyone who had any power that I could find). Casey then put Amber in touch with a columnist for the newspaper, and they got copies of the recordings, the text messages, and the dismissal phone call.
They also did an interview which was for an article and a TV slot on the local news. Amber discussed the commission cuts, clear favoritism, lack of any intervention by HR, forged documents, company policy, the incident, etc., basically anything relevant to paint these women in a terrible light.
Among some of these recordings were bits of gossip that included conversations regarding Karen’s various flings over the years (she was in a long-term, committed relationship), so Amber also wrote an anonymous email to her partner that included some of these recordings.
Poop hit the fan pretty fast as you can probably imagine.
After the article and TV slot ran on the local news, the CEO reached out to Amber to formally apologize for the behavior of HR, the district manager, Karen, and Jackie.
She even went so far as to offer Amber a raise but Amber declined because she found a job that actually paid a fair wage and let her work on her own time.
Karen’s man seems to have separated from her after finding out about her infidelity. Whether or not this will lead to divorce remains to be seen.
The best part for Amber was that many of her clients started coming to her new store, and again, she’s kicking butt as one of the best sales associates.
Here’s some more information about this story that I left out:
Yeah, my mom is in her 70s, and she still works.
She does it for a few reasons: she’s on a fixed income (and the extra income helps), and she likes to be active and enjoys working with customers. My brother and I do give her extra income, but she will only take so much because she’s very prideful. She’s also one of the most active people I know and has a more prolific social life than I or any of my friends/family members do.
The contract my mother was under is classified as “at-will” employment; basically, this means that the employer or the employee can terminate the contract at any time for any reasons outside of the usual suspects (hate crimes, racial issues, etc).
We did talk with a lawyer, and this particular aspect would make it difficult to fight the company and the termination since they gave such vague reasons for the firing. My mother also just didn’t want to deal with a lengthy legal battle just to get back at a few idiots.
The manager had it out for my mom from the beginning. I think it was due to their differing political and social views. My mom is a very outspoken liberal, and this woman is a by the numbers religious conservative.
The way I worded things must have been vague regarding the conversations in the recordings.
With single consent laws, you can record a conversation if one party is aware of the recording; in this case, that party would be my mother. These women were so egotistical that they would often gossip about stuff right out on the store floor while talking with my mother as almost an aside. These recordings originally were for documenting all of the abuse that my mother endured.
My mom was approached for a promotion multiple times while working for this company, she just didn’t want the extra responsibility nor did she want to work full-time.
Instead, they did give her raises, but because the state was also raising their minimum wage for the past couple of years, these raises have become almost irrelevant.
One thing I should also note is that my mom never really harbored any lasting ill will against Karen or Jackie (or really any of the others) until this past year. The reason was primarily that she could see that they had some kind of humanity in there. Obviously, even the Karens of the world have shades of grey, and my mom can be forgiving to a fault when it comes to people she has known for a long time.”
12. Next Time, Choose Your Words More Carefully
“I had a friend, who we’ll call Josh, which is obviously not his actual name. Josh and I had been friends since we were young. Turns out liking Transformers, wrestling, and Hot Wheels make it really easy to make friends in elementary school or primary school for those on the other side of the Atlantic. Josh originally was a pretty good guy, but his parents had issues with one another and eventually split up. His mother remarried, and his step-father began to spoil Josh rotten.
Josh began to become a lot more antagonistic, and we grew distant as the years went on, but I tried to remain friendly with him, hoping he’d eventually see the error of his ways. He went through multiple relationships, all of them ending by his hand, but I was unaware as he only spoonfed me information and made the other party look like they were in the wrong.
Josh had recently had a break-up with a girl we’ll be calling Megan, who I was friendly with before the break-up.
Whilst I was worried about Megan due to us being friends, I stupidly decided to check on Josh first. Now, I had let Josh ‘borrow’ stuff from me, including multiple gaming consoles, clothes, and even a few bits of furniture. I tried to be a good friend, but I didn’t know that I was being taken advantage of.
We had decided to order some pizza, and Josh had unwittingly ordered from Local Pizza, where Megan worked. Local Pizza doesn’t deliver.
Josh ‘persuaded’ me to go and get the pizza. In reality, he basically demanded it because he was too lazy to drive that way. I decided to bite the bullet and just drive my way to Local Pizza and walked inside. Lo-and-behold, I met with Megan, who was on break at the moment.
Megan and I spoke about things, and the topic of Josh came up. It was busy, and our order wasn’t even done yet, so I didn’t mind stopping to chat until Megan began to tell me her side of things.
It turned out that Josh had been a major jerk to Megan, until Megan’s brother, Drake, stepped in and pulled his sister out of the relationship. Drake had been a friend as well, but Josh had fed me lies, so I stopped speaking to Drake.
I didn’t want to believe Megan at first until she called Drake, who corroborated her story. It was a lot to swallow. Josh’s break-ups began to make a lot more sense now, and I felt sick.
Was I friends with a horrible person? I asked Megan some questions, and she told me her side of the story and ended up calling out a lot of Josh’s flat-out lies.
After the pizza was done, I promised Megan that I’d talk to Josh about this as someone who’d been close to him for years. She thought that, maybe, I’d be able to get through to him. Oh, were we both wrong.
I got back to Josh’s, and we just spoke about things until I managed to get on the topic of Megan.
I mentioned to him that we spoke and what she said. Big mistake. He got angry and called Megan a ‘fat, lying witch’ and declared that I shouldn’t believe her. I told him that Drake corroborated her story and that I was going through a lot of stress trying to make heads or tails of all of this.
Josh, now absolutely livid at me, screams at me. “Shut the heck up! Get the heck out! You want to believe that chick?! Take your stuff and go!”
I was shocked.
I tried to say something, but… Josh cut me off. “I said get the heck out! Take your stuff, and get the heck out of my house! You want to freaking believe her and that stupid brother of hers?! Fine! Tell everyone how much of a horrible freaking person I am! Let’s see who believes you!”
Yup, you read that right, my dear reader. Compliances. Plural. Now, whilst I’m not a big fan of confrontation, I also despise being yelled at.
He wants me to take my stuff and go? So be it. I just give him an, “Okay, Josh. I’ll take MY THINGS and go.” So, I began to take it all back. Gaming consoles, clothes, and I even grabbed the stand-up mirror I’d let him borrow ages ago. He tried to stop me multiple times, but I simply pushed past him and reiterated his words.
He wanted me to shut up, grab my things, and go, so I did.
PS2 I let him borrow? Taking that back. GameCube he borrowed, so he could play some games he got at a thrift store? That’s mine. Taking that home. I took EVERYTHING that was mine, packed it into my car, and ignored him as he screamed, ranted, and raved at me, threatening to call the police. I simply dared him to, as I was only taking back my things.
When I left, I called Megan and Drake and told them what happened.
They said they had my back in case things went awry after this. Then, I let them in on the second thing he said. ‘Tell everyone how much of a horrible person he is.’ Okay, Josh. Bet.
Megan, Drake, and I went through our contacts for anyone who knew Josh and told them what happened. One of these people was Josh’s own mother, who was absolutely livid at him, as Josh was living in his home on his mother and step-father’s dime.
Josh’s reputation pretty much collapsed out from under him as evidence came to light and Josh’s various exes, emboldened by Megan and Drake coming out with their stories, began to spread their own stories on what had happened.
Josh’s friend circle turned on him rather quickly, finding out how much of a jerk he actually was. What made all of this worse for Josh was all of these stories had evidence, such as texts, camera footage, and audio recordings, all of this evidence making it obvious that those Josh hurt weren’t lying.
Josh’s mother and step-father ended up pulling his sizeable allowance due to this, and he couldn’t afford his home and was forced to move back in with them. Josh and I still don’t talk anymore, and he had to sell off a lot of his furniture and personal possessions to pay off the debt he’d managed to rack up after his allowance was pulled. I’ve heard that Josh has changed and is getting better, but after the nonsense he put me through, I’d rather be keeping my distance.”
Another User Comments:
“Finally, no one’s joshing anymore…” havereddit
11. Let Your Dog Do Its Business On Our Property? Let Me Get My Horse
“I grew up in the countryside. My parents weren’t farmers, but we had a barn and a little stable. So, we had two horses which were the love of my mother and sister. My parents rented a pasture every summer, so our horses could walk free instead of being crammed in the stable and the little outlet we had for them. So during summer, either my mom, my sister, my brother, or I had to bring the horses to the pasture and get them back in the evening.
Our neighbor had a dog. I hated this thing. It was untrained, would bark the whole night, and well, took number twos in our driveway. The lady who owned it took walks several times a day and let her dog poop in our driveway/on our lawn. One time, I saw her and called her out. She was “sorry” and told me that “it wouldn’t happen again.” But the next day, there was again dog poop in our driveway.
The next time I saw her while it occurred, I reminded her that dog poop must be picked up and leaving it is illegal.
(You can get fined well above $120 for dog poop here, but it depends on the region you in.) She smugly replies “Well, maybe in the city. But here in the country, it isn’t!” Yes, if your dog poops in the woods, it’s maybe okay but not in the freaking village.
One summer day, I went out barefoot, to get the mail and stepped on dog poo. Barefoot. I spent some minutes on our front porch washing my foot with our front hose.
The same evening, it was my turn to return our horses back from the pasture together with my younger sister.
She was leading our mare “Brownie” (Yes, she’s a brown horse. My sister was five when she named her, so what?), and I led our stallion “Zeus” back home. Zeus was a pretty big workhorse we got from an older gentleman who couldn’t take care of him anymore. He looks mean, but he was a very gentle horse. But he was like one metric ton of horse. (He was a shire horse.) So, my sister was in front of me because Brownie was eager to get home, while Zeus liked to stop to eat some grass on the way home.
When we were passing my neighbors’ driveway, and I noticed Zeus had to drop some, well, apples.
Normally, he would poop and walk at the same time, but I made him stop and because of Karma Zeus took one of his huger dumps right in front of my neighbors’ driveway. Normally if one of our horses would do its business during our route in the village, our mom would have us clean it up. But I hide the fact that Zeus pooped in front of her house. My mom would surely make an exception in this case.
The next day, I was up early, taking our well-behaved dog for a walk while carrying bags for his poop, like normal people.
And then I saw the outcome. My neighbor backed out of her driveway in her very low riding, white, convertible car and had driven through Zeus’ glorious pile of “apples.” When she saw me and my really big grin, she yelled at me to clean it up because it was “my” horse. I told her, “Maybe in the city it’s the rule to pick up your horses’ droppings, but here in the country, it isn’t!” I left her dumbfounded and went inside. From then on, she never let her dog poop in our driveway again.
It kinda bit me back though. She told my mother who told me to scrap the rest of Zeus’ droppings from her driveway, but she refused to let me wash her car because she was stupid enough to back out of her driveway without a proper look.”
Another User Comments:
“How do you like them apples?” ThinkersWhoTinkers
10. Sorry, The New Company Rules Mean No Bonus For You This Time, Buddy
And we have to play by the rules, you know.
“I work in launch quality for a mid-size manufacturing company in the states. My team is basically the last step before a new product can get ok’d to sell as we do all the final checks, customer documents, and regulatory sign-offs. Our last manager left as he was near 70 and decided to just retire. Took the company until October to decide to hire a new one.
During this time the salespeople stopped coming in, and because my team were some of the few office folks coming in (because we have to check the parts), they started shipping everything to us. Samples, prototypes, final launch parts, paperwork, you name it. Even better, they rarely picked everything up (they may take 5-10 of a 25 part run) and left us with the mess. A year of this, and the office was a wreck, and they didn’t care as none of the mess affected their bonuses, so long as those parts got to the customer on time.
A new boss comes in, and he’s one of two managers on-site: him and the production manager.
Because of how the factory is laid out, our team is the only one in the office and so that’s where he is. He questions the mess, but we say no one has cared about our concerns, so he shrugs it off.
Now our boss has his faults, he’s pretty clueless on the resources and the time it takes to finish things sometimes because of the industry he came from (heavy automotive). His attitude is: if it takes us all 60 hours a week for the next month, we work it.
The other side of that is he’s here with us, he’ll occasionally just tell someone their assignment is to not be there for a couple of days if things are slow, and he has our backs.
About 3 months ago, the company president comes in for the first time in a year. He is angry about the state of the office. As our boss is the only manager around, he reams him up one side and down the other for the state of things, despite the new boss only being there about 6 months and all this predating him.
Tells him to “Just figure it out, but I want this office clean and professional.”
Boss comes to me and says, “Write me a policy and process for shipping material to the office, storage, and disposal of things that sit. Have the draft by the end of the week, and I’ll get you a budget and some factory folks if you need to buy anything, move, or install anything.”
So I write one that’s pretty easy and straightforward: basically what we had already been doing but more organized.
Shelves, ID locations, incoming and outgoing. Boss looks at it and makes two comments, “We’re not inventory clerks. Sales get the ID of the shipment and unless they get my or the production manager’s approval it’s their problem. Two, we don’t have that much space. Add a clause we will throw out anything over a week old every Friday.” Then he got me two maintenance people and told purchasing I had some orders to put in.
Then he sent the policy to the president.
President said to do it. Three weeks later the office is pristine. President has his chest puffed out next time he comes through.
Then last month it happens. We all knew sales weren’t going to pay attention to our policy, even though my boss personally met with the sales VP and the team leads. For the most part, nothing we threw out was a big deal, but then one of the team leads ships a whole prototype order to the office.
I know the guy is infamous for getting other people to do his work and never follows up with anything. And if things go wrong he throws us or production under the bus.
Now, this order is a big deal. High six-figure contract with our #3 customer. Part of a new line that could generate millions.
I tell Boss, and he shrugs and says I should email the guy to remind him of his parts and the new policy.
No response. Friday cleanup comes, and Boss calls the guy on his cell: voicemail. So, Boss puts the parts on his desk and has me send a reminder to the guy. Nothing.
Monday rolls around, and there’s still no follow-up, so Boss reply-alls my email with his boss, sales VP, and President, saying per policy, the guy had till 10:00 Tuesday (when trash people pick up our roll-off) to get his parts. Tuesday rolls around, and he has me toss the parts and email the sales guy that I did.
Things blew up on Wednesday.
The sales guy calls me screaming at me for losing the parts, and there’s no way to make new ones in time, who am I to toss HIS parts, etc. Boss sees my face, and can probably hear the screaming from his office, and comes out to see what’s going on. I managed to stammer something out and then got another earful from the sales guy. Boss takes the receiver from my hand, and I will never forget this.
“You will never speak to my people like that again.” (Pause for cursing from the phone.) “I am hanging up now.
The next call you get will be from VP Ops for a meeting to discuss this incident. We will also discuss your unprofessional language to me.” He hangs up as the next tirade starts and tells me to ignore the guy’s next call. Reminds me we have a big due date upcoming and hands me his credit card, so I can order the team dinner, and heads back to his office.
About 4:00, he closes his door, which he only does for conference calls and HR stuff.
My whole team can hear the yelling through the door but not in much detail. Around 5:25, HR sends out an email with times for mandatory training on following company policy and another for proper workplace decorum.
Boss comes out about 6:00 looking mostly tired and remarks, “I will never understand why people wanna mess with the folks who make them money and write the rules. Oh, your work assignment for Friday is to be off.” Then he just heads back to his office to finish our project.
Also, I never did get an apology from the sales guy, but he’s been way nicer. I know the contract miss cost him his bonus; it was his only one that quarter. I think my boss took some bad assignments for the next couple of weeks, but neither I nor my team has heard anything about it.”
9. You Don't Pay Me To Be 2 Minutes Late? Well, You Apparently Don't Pay Me To Be Early, Either
It seems like they’re the ones who don’t know their own policy (or what it should be).
“I’ve worked at many retail chains… have had MANY terrible bosses. But here’s one story I think I can give up without any repercussions.
At a small specific retail store, 5-6 years ago at this point, I was confronted by my old boss on a specific event that I was late by two minutes.
The previous day, he had asked me to come in on my day off – and at an earlier time than I normally do.
I agreed to come in on my day off and work a shift I am not normally used to, but it’s retail; it cannot be that difficult.
My old boss asked me to work from 7 AM to 4 PM, and I showed up at 7:02 AM, which, in my state, there is a 5-minute window for everyone, and this was 100% not a habit of mine at all. I am normally one to show up 5 minutes early every day and wait aside the time clock.
I clocked on and walked to my department with a drink I had already purchased the previous day.
As I walked into the department, the manager greeted me then said, “When I schedule you at 7 AM, I expect you to be IN department by 7 AM. Not a minute later. We can’t pay you to clock on, buy something, and then start working. Over the course of a year, that adds up to hundreds of dollars of lost labor for one individual.” I told my old boss that my drink was from the previous day and that I just clocked on 2 minutes late.
My old boss replied with, “That’s not my problem, you need to plan better. You were scheduled at 7, and we are losing cost of labor each minute you are not here. Be in department AT scheduled time!”
Which is not true. I spoke regularly with a payroll employee – and she explained to me quite some time prior, that the company does not pay you 3 minutes before or after your scheduled time. So if you clock on at 7 AM, you are not getting paid until 7:03 AM.
If you clock on at 6:57 AM, you are not getting paid until 7 AM. Same for when you return from lunch. However, if you clock on at 7:04, after that 3-minute window – you begin getting paid immediately that minute.
My boss was right: I NEED to plan better.
I asked for a printout of my timestamps going back as far as they had a record of… and I tallied up EACH day that I had arrived 3 minutes early – and did not get paid for it.
I counted well over 330 minutes within a three-month span that I was not getting paid for – which ended up being a little over $110.
I gave my old boss a copy and said, “You can pay me for these dates where I was in the department, on the dot, without getting paid for it.”
My old boss then replied, “That’s not how our company policy works.” He then went into detail, to explain to me, exactly what I had already known – and gave him a copy of…
Yet, my old boss is now recognizing that he’s contradicted himself and willingly lied to me. When everything clicked in his head that he’s contradicted himself, it was far too obvious because his face went bright red, and he started smiling, in my opinion, like he had been caught.
My old boss: Well, you know the policy. We can’t pay you for that.
Me: Then I will begin my shift when I am getting paid, not the minute you schedule me.
It’s not like you’re losing labor if you’re not even paying the employees that window of time. Schedule me at 7 if you like, but I will not be clocking on until 4 minutes after the scheduled time, as you will not be losing any cost of labor for it, and I will not be losing pay over your personal policy.
For about three weeks, I clocked on 4 minutes late every day, no matter how early I arrived.
I eventually got a warning from the building’s HR that it’s riding the line and very close to getting a write-up and down the discipline road. I explained to her the entire story, as she seemingly did not like this manager of mine either, she laughed pretty hard at the whole thing and offered me a department transfer, with higher pay. She reminded me that my behavior was listed under a category that could get me terminated and thought the transfer would be a fresh start.
Instead, I put in my two weeks notice and thanked her for the wonderful opportunity.
The funniest part of all of this, years later, I saw my old manager working at a new chain in a similar position to what he was doing when I worked for him. He smiled, waved. I smiled, waved, continued on.
As time went on, I also bumped into the old HR manager, who was working in an entirely different field. I asked her why my old boss left that company. She laughed and said, “He didn’t leave; we fired him for time theft!” Apparently, my old boss would take a lunch, leave the building, and never clock out for it.”
8. Unhappy Despite Getting A Free New Washing Machine? Bake In The Dark
Some customers are just… difficult.
“This goes over a span of about 4 years, so I’m pretty happy, to say the least.
I am an appliance tech, and I make in-home service calls for appliance issues and repairs. In the fall time of 2017, I had a service call for a front-loading washing machine that was violently shaking. I get to the service call, and the customer leads me to the washing machine.
For those curious, the washer had a broken basket.
Front-loading washers have a bracket on the back of the basket which holds it in place. The problem is, these inevitably begin having issues around 10 to 15 years of use. Due to the age of this washer, the parts needed to repair it were no longer available. Their warranty company offers cash-out vouchers or all expenses covered replacement appliances.
The customer was absolutely furious about this. They demanded the impossible (sourcing the parts) be made possible, because, wait for it: “The customer is always right.” I explained a fourth time that it cannot be done, to no avail.
The washer was in a utility room where they kept dry and canned foods, toilet paper, extra cleaning supplies, and so on (this is important).
I processed the order, talked to the warranty company, updated the customer that they’ll be presented with the offer of either a $1,100 check or a new Electrolux washer, the brand that they had. The issue the customer got so upset about was the fact that they would no longer be a matching set.
The customer, after I left, made it their personal mission to attempt to have me terminated or reprimanded at least.
They called corporate, told them I smoked in their house and smelled like booze, that I tried to steal from them, and that I ran over their mailbox when I left! My boss smelled shenanigans a mile away and had my back through the month and a half of incoming complaints.
I had a service call for this very same customer today for a repair on their oven. I didn’t realize it was them until I saw the house, and my mental gears went overboard.
I was unsurprisingly nervous about how this would go. I sighed, said “Here goes nothing” got out of the van, walked up, and knocked on the door. Yes, they did answer, and no, they did not remember me!
“What’s been going on with the oven?”
“Well, the lightbulb inside burned out. I told them on the phone what was wrong, so you have a new lightbulb, right?”
I did not. I knew I didn’t, but I told them I would go check my stock.
I was not checking my stock; I was calling the warranty company. The warranty company (American Home Shield) will cover any and all repairs related to the operation of an appliance. Things that are not covered on ovens include racks, handles, knobs, and… lightbulbs.
So, with the status of the oven now on file (fully operational, with a burned-out lightbulb that can be replaced by the customer), the warranty will deny the claim and will be calling the customer tomorrow about it. I went back in with a smile under my mask and said, “Ok, so I sent over all the info to the warranty company; they’ll give you a call about the next steps.””
7. Apparently, Biohazards Aren't A Problem Until They Start Costing Money
“So, let me explain some context first. This school was my dream job right out of college as their mission statement aligns with nearly everything I learned in school with current research and whatnot. At first, it was great. I got hired, there were very few kids enrolled, and everything was relatively calm.
Slowly, however, everything began to unravel. The owner is new to the business and does not know how to balance that with the empathy and emotional energy it takes to run a school with small children.
I slowly began to see the dollar signs in his eyes. He was catering to rich families and would do anything to keep up the front of a perfect school no matter what. He would disregard the teachers’ mental and physical health for the sake of his image.
He would hold tight to the money the center made, and despite repeated requests from teachers and the director, it was nearly impossible to get him to invest in anything the center needed (e.g., more outdoor equipment for the playgrounds, items teachers need each week for their lessons, etc.).
This even goes for things that are posing a safety hazard – the infant/toddler playground has a fence lined entirely on the outside by small rocks. The children reach out right through, pick one out, and stick it in their mouths. The teachers spent a lot of time corralling children away from the fence. His only solution was to put up some chicken wire on the outside… but only in certain areas and not even in our main problem area.
Apparently, it would have looked horrible to find an alternative decorative option aside from small rocks around his building.
Needless to say, he made it difficult to get anything new or needed for the center.
Then, we got a new assistant director (AD).
She was… okay. She was a former teacher promoted to the position after our former AD moved. But she had very little admin experience or charisma.
Suddenly, with her addition to the team, the admin began to crack down on everything.
They started raising the bar on curriculum and classroom standards, employee behavior, and dress code. They would add a new thing to the handbook every week as they discovered new things happening they disliked. We started getting at least two emails a week with some other new expectation, 90% a negative thing they wanted to tell us about.
Unfortunately, being that the childcare system in America is utter garbage and has a high turnover rate of teachers, our school was perpetually understaffed.
This made adhering to new guidelines and expectations hard, especially when they were struggling to get us the time we needed away from our classrooms to fulfill their requirements for lesson planning and such.
So, here comes the small but satisfying malicious compliance. At one of our trainings, the AD instructed us on a new protocol for our diaper pails.
“If your diaper pail fills up before the end of the day, you can’t put the bag in a trash can inside the building.
It must be taken outside and thrown in the dumpster. But the pails should be big enough to last you all day, so we aren’t sure why you guys are emptying them out so often.”
…The diaper pails they provided us were super small and cheap. The only way they would last all day is if you were only throwing away small-sized diapers. The infant room was the only one able to use the pail all day without needing to empty it and replace the bag.
My room throws out about 50-70 diapers every day, and it would fill up after about 20 of those and need to be emptied. By the time you got to the two-year-old room, they had large diapered children and could fit maybe one round of diapers in it before they would have to change it out.
Most of us had been throwing the diaper bags in the trash can contained within the diapering area. Children would rarely be anywhere near the trashcan we used, or if they were, the bag was tied up tight before being thrown in.
This was fast and easy and allowed us to get on with our busy and fast-paced day.
But no. It posed too much of a biohazard, they said. We, teachers, suggested that this problem could be fixed if they could get us bigger and nicer diaper pails or even two of them in the older rooms who needed more dirty diaper storage. Most of us had pails that were broken in some way anyway, AND the locking system on them was so awful that even my least sneaky 12-month-olds could get into the pail itself easily.
I’d caught them gazing into the abyss of dirty diapers several times, but any time we told the admin about this, they didn’t do anything to fix it aside from just telling us to redirect them.
And yet… throwing the bags away in the trash cans they can barely reach was more of a biohazard.
AD says, “Okay, we’ll see about the pails being replaced but honestly, just take them out to the dumpster.”
We ask, “Okay, how are we supposed to go out to the dumpster 2+ times a day when we are ratio locked on teachers in the classroom?” (Ratio locked: there are too many children for one teacher to legally be allowed to be alone within the room, so both teachers have to be in the room at all times)
AD says, “Oh, just call us every time you need it brought out.
Someone will step in for you or they can take it out.”
So, the next day, we do just that. We call when we need it taken out. AD says someone will be over soon.
But wait… we’re understaffed. And there’s always something going on elsewhere in the building.
Hours pass, nobody comes, the diaper garbage stays by the door forgotten, posing more of a biohazard than if it were sitting contained in the garbage can.
The other classrooms give up and start looking for other ways to get around the new rule.
But my co-teacher (CO) and I decide on a different course of action – we take it out ourselves on our lunch breaks. So, CO takes it out on her 11:30 AM lunch break to get rid of the large load of morning diapers, and I take it out on my 2:00 PM lunch break to get rid of the lunch and nap diapers.
Between getting it out, walking out of the building, opening the heavy gate to the dumpster, throwing it in the dumpster, and walking back, this took an extra 5 minutes or so on our lunchtime.
Sometimes it would take longer if we had to help out in the classroom for a few minutes before rushing it out and going on break.
Eventually, AD asks us why we’re throwing our lunches off by a couple of minutes every day. We explain that we do not want the diaper garbage sitting out in the classroom but that it was hard to get anyone in to allow us that five minutes to take care of it.
“Oh.” AD decides that this is fine… so we carry on with this.
And then one day, I end up having to do the diaper trash after my lunch.
I get into the room to grab the bag out of the diaper pail. And CO asks me for some quick help before I take it out. The other teacher who was covering my lunch was outside with the 1 teacher ratio allowed for our age group, so CO just needed some help before I went to relieve her of duty.
Of course, I help her. She also needed a bathroom break, which is not an uncommon request between lunch transitions, since it’s sometimes the only time we get to go (again it’s hard to get people to come to cover you for anything in an understaffed center).
By the time I finish helping her and get the diaper trash out, it’s been 15 minutes over my normal lunchtime.
Maybe, normally, this wouldn’t be a problem…
But today? Apparently, the teacher covering me had been needed back in their home classroom exactly after I got back because the AD was in that room covering for them while their CO went home and they, of course, had to do lunches.
The AD was supposed to have been helping with a meeting with some parents. They ended up being 15 minutes late.
Later, I get called to the office just to talk to the AD.
They lecture me, asking me what I was thinking, coming back so late.
I explain my situation. CO had needed help. We hadn’t been told anyone was on such a super tight time crunch otherwise we would have tried to be even faster about it. We hadn’t meant to screw up anyone’s day.
“When you come back from your lunch, I don’t want you helping CO. Take out the garbage and come straight to relieve your covering teacher.” AD says.
I nod and get back to my classroom. I explain the conversation to CO. She gets visibly upset about this.
I think she may have talked to the director at that point, because a few days later of following the new law of diaper pail garbage disposal, not helping a single soul even when asked, coming back 5 minutes late still for every lunch every day, we get a call to our classroom phone one morning.
CO answers it.
When she gets off, she’s grinning.
“That was AD. We can start throwing the bags in our classroom trash bin again. Our method is just inconveniencing them too much and taking too much extra time.”
Oh, lord, I had a good laugh.
And, this was months ago. From then until the day I left, we never got the new diaper pails that would alleviate the entire problem. Funny how suddenly a biohazard isn’t a problem when the solution will cost them time and money.”
6. Leave Immediately? Okay, But You Will Regret It
“I am the whole IT department in the city for the crunchy food company that makes and distributes fried potatoes in my country. We will be calling this company Mr. Tato. Now, like any other big company with distribution chains, Mr. Tato relies heavily on its communication infrastructure, which makes maintenance both important and hard to schedule. This night, in particular, I and my contractor buddies were scheduled to do maintenance to the electrical outlets that go to the site rack, which of course will cause internet downtime.
We arrive on-site, and all is normal. Enter the site, I turn off all networking equipment, procure some fried goodies, and settle down while my people start doing their work. Then, trouble comes when I am contacted by Mary the boss guard lady.
Now, Mary is super nice. I have a good relationship with the security guards in the sites I work with, in part because they are usually great to drink with, in part because it always pays to get along with security.
Mary tells me she was not aware we were having a midnight rendezvous with the site, which is weird because this whole thing is set up weeks in advance. She tells us to carry on but contacts her boss.
I never met her boss, but as first impressions go, this was not gonna be a good one. Boss was mad. He is irate that we are working in his precious building without his knowledge and appalled that we would just March in and do the work we were scheduled to do without giving him a proper tribute.
Apparently, he was never cc’d on any of the multiple work emails needed to coordinate the whole thing during the previous weeks. He demands we stop what we are doing and immediately leave the premises. I try to explain myself, but he is fresh out of cares to give and hangs up on me. I talk to Mary and explain to her what her boss actually did.
And then I and my buddies comply, giggling with anticipation.
Leaving immediately means we leave the electrical work half done, the site with no power, the whole building with no internet, and just go. I know how this is gonna go; they know how this is gonna go. The guards know how this is gonna go. I just park outside, buy myself an energy drink, and call my supervisor first and the location manager second. Then I sit down with my buddies and the guards and enjoy the drama.
See, with the site down there is no internet, and sales can not be made, shipping can not be sent, cargo can not be loaded, orders can not be put together.
Every working hour without operation costs Mr. Tato himself a loss of tens of thousands of dollars. The site works 24/7, and labors were going to resume in about three hours. This is not obscure arcane knowledge, this is something every serious Mr. Tato employee knows. The guards are outsourced and still they know, both because I have explained it to them in detail over drinks and because occasionally I need to come running at 3 in the morning when something fails and stops operations.
Management rained hard on the security guy.
For a full hour, I heard him call the guards, blaming them for not explaining the situation correctly, all while maintaining we can’t work the site. Finally, at 12:30, he folds. We go in, and half an hour later, we are out. The site is powered up, all services are working, and people can come into work ignorant to how close they came to doom.
What will become of the security guy, I wonder? Hopefully, he learned something.”
5. Start Looking For Another Job Since His Contract Is Almost Up? Oh, He Will
“Doug works for one of the larger banks here in Canada. For someone without post-secondary, he’s done incredibly well for himself. He’s 28 now and has been working with this bank for about 9 years. He started as a teller and worked his way all the way up to just below a branch manager, but more customer service oriented.
The story starts in February 2020.
Doug had worked in a few different branches over the years and is quite personable.
When a former colleague told him about a position in the wealth department he thought it might be good for a change. He was also working from a small office downtown which meant he didn’t have to go into a branch every day and deal with customers and employees face to face. He decided to apply. With a good recommendation, he got an interview. How this position works is he essentially would be working directly for two big investment banker types, but there was an office manager (we’ll call her Sarah) who he also reported to as well.
This office manager trained him, provided support, etc. During the interview, he was told that the base salary for the new position was 10k per year less, but there were monthly bonuses paid out that would bring him well over the salary cap for his previous position. Once he accepted, it didn’t really sit well with me since he didn’t get that in writing.
He got along wonderfully with his investment banker bosses. They loved having someone so personable, who also had connections in the branch.
The divisions were kept pretty church and state (retail/wealth), so it saved a lot of time having Doug around since he could just message friends from retail to get information without having to go through all the typical hoops. He also knew most of the systems already and got all the courses he needed very quickly.
Then, offices were shut down. Everyone had to work from home. Since Doug was new, he kind of got shafted. He was one of the last people to get a laptop (you can’t use your own), had one monitor, regularly got stuck going into the office to mail things.
Also since he was new, he had a lot of questions and needed help regularly. With work from home, that meant Sarah had to put in a lot of effort to answer his questions. She was a miserable woman. She was condescending, took a long time to answer him, or would just say, “Figure it out.” It was incredibly frustrating for Doug, especially considering the bonus he was receiving was a fraction of what was promised.
He was making considerably less money and was doing a lot more work.
After about a year (February 2021 at this point), Doug was doing very well at his position. The investment bankers regularly praised him, they even got him fancy Christmas gifts. The only downside was Sarah. She still was giving Doug a very hard time and just generally being rude and condescending. When Doug’s one year rolled around Sarah had a meeting with him about some issues a client was having.
At the end of the meeting she said “since your contract renewal is coming up, you might want to consider keeping your options open and looking for some other positions in other departments.” We both knew this was an empty threat since his actual bosses basically needed him at this point. One of them started having some pretty serious health issues, and Doug was a superstar helping him through it while maintaining his book of business.
We knew this was just Sarah trying to make him feel small.
Even still, Doug was pretty upset after hearing this. He had been putting in 12 hour days, for less money, and was borderline being bullied by Sarah the entire time. So he decided to take her advice.
He sent out one application to a different division of the bank. Got a call back the same day. Turns out the lady who runs this division for our province used to work with Doug.
She was his branch manager back when he was a teller. With this bank, in order to move to other departments, they touch base with your current boss. They spoke to both of his investment banker bosses and they were taken by total surprise. They called Doug to see why he was quitting since he was doing so well. They had no idea Sarah had promised him more money in the interview and that he took a pay cut to be there.
They had no idea Sarah had been treating him the way she had been since they didn’t interact with her often.
A day or two later he had a zoom meeting with the investment banker bosses and Sarah. They tried to counter offer him the same salary (17,000 more dollars per year) and Sarah changed her tune completely. Tried to back peddle on what she said about looking for other positions. Doug politely declined their offer and accepted the new position, partly because he felt taken advantage of since they were so easily able to give him almost a 20k pay raise but also because he “didn’t feel secure in the position due to Sarah’s remarks.”
His investment banker bosses still call him regularly, 4 months later, to help with clients.
Some of their clients only want to speak with Doug or they need Doug’s help with systems he designed to make their lives easier. Now Doug works from home still, makes 17k more than he did in the wealth department, and his investment banker bosses pay him a few hundred a week for his “freelance” work. Oh, and the best of it all is that Sarah took on all of Doug’s duties for months while they found his replacement. Doug’s investment banker’s bosses told him their new assistant is someone who worked in the mailroom of the office. He took 3 attempts to pass his exams and has no idea what he’s doing.”
4. Try To Look Tough In Front Of Your Woman? Let Me Make You Do More Work
“I decided one day that I needed to wash my truck, so I drove into town to the self serve car wash. Now, there were two places and they were located almost directly across the road from each other. Both were of the type that you put coins in and use a brush or pressure washer, not the drive-thru type.
One place I preferred to go to because I was acquainted with the owner and it used freshwater.
I had heard that the other guy across the road recycled and filtered his water, so I didn’t like the idea of using muddy water to wash my vehicle. I have no idea if it was true.
Anyway, there was no change machine at the one I liked, so I first drove into the other one, got a handful of change, and drove across the road to the preferred place and into a bay. As I was selecting my wash options and getting ready to put my coins in, a van drives across the entrance of my bay and “blocks” me in.
Like I would try to run away in fear when he comes over, ha. The guy gets out and starts giving me smack for using his change machine but not his wash bay. I guess he was the owner. His tirade lasted about 30 seconds. I also notice he keeps glancing at his lady in the passenger seat. Clearly, he’s putting on a show for her. I didn’t say one word. After he was done, he stormed back to the van and spins it around, and peels out of the parking lot.
It took a few minutes while I was washing my truck to come up with something I could do to him that wouldn’t be illegal.
I decided that that night and for a few nights after, I would empty his change machine. So, late that night, I drove back, got a bunch of cash out of the ATM, and proceeded to empty his machine. That way he would have to refill it, assume he was making money, and keep him from making money since people would not be able to use his facilities because no change was available.
I coined the term “petty vengeance” when I told my friends about it.
They thought it was awesome and encouraged me to continue. I did it two more nights and then once more a few nights later. The bank had one of those automated coin counters, so it was no big deal to change the massive pile of coins back into bills.
I can only hope he grumbled every time he had to refill that machine and that he was super angry to find much less money than expected in the machines in his bays.”
Another User Comments:
“”Coined the term…” was that an intentional pun? Lol.” ghostchild25
3. Scare Me? I'll Scare You Even More
“A few months ago, I had gone to my cousin’s house after a party. I’m really close to his family, so they don’t mind if I come over at midnight.
I walk upstairs in the dark to get a blanket for myself, and as I reached the top, two of my cousin’s friends who were staying the night come out from the darkness and almost scare me down the staircase.
After I get a blanket, I go downstairs to sleep on the couch, and they stay upstairs and sleep in the game area which is right by the upstairs railing.
The two keep on whispering dumb things to me from upstairs and throw toys down the staircase. The whole time I’m quiet because they’re just having fun, but I decide to have a little fun myself after I hear one of them say, “Is he even down there?”
I decide to throw all of the toys back up the stairs and bang on the walls and run over to a corner between some couches and hide. The two go downstairs to try and attack me with pillows, but they couldn’t find me, so they get a little freaked out and go back upstairs.
Once the coast was clear, I decide to toss a few throw pillows upstairs and go back to the corner to freak them out.
They don’t respond, so I start banging on the walls again which causes them to run downstairs with their phone lights on, screaming at the top of their lungs, looking for me. I later found out that they were screaming and shining lights so that I couldn’t scare them.
They go back upstairs after running through the house a number of times, and luckily, they didn’t think to look in my corner.
Now here’s the kicker: I decide to freak them out one more time by taking off my clothes: a button-up, my jeans, and my shoes and arrange them in a flash-rapture position; it looked as if I had disintegrated.
I also took their shoes, which they had left downstairs, and tied them to the railing against the stairs, took a knife from the kitchen, and laid it down next to my clothes, and for some extra giggles, I took all of the cereal boxes from the pantry and set them at the bottom of the stairs.
I start banging on the walls, but they won’t come down, so I start making snake-like sounds, like some parseltongue type of stuff, after hearing that one of the guys says “Okay, I know that’s him! Let’s go down!”
They run down the stairs again and see their shoes and freak out.
One of them goes back upstairs but the one who went all the way down begs him to come back and then he notices the cereal and says, “What the heck!? Did you do this!?”
The one upstairs comes down and yells, “Come back upstairs!”
The one downstairs keeps begging him to come down, and eventually, he does. They walked cautiously around the kitchen and then they find my clothes and just say things along the lines of, “Oh my God, that’s his clothes.” “Where is he?” “What happened?” “Why’s there a knife!?”
At that point, I figured they’d had enough, and I spring up from my corner and yell “That’s what you get for messing with me on the stairs!”
An extremely proud night of my life.”
2. Keep Trying To Complain About My Mistake? I'll Overexplain Why I Actually Followed The Rules
“I’ve worked at the post office for just under two years. In fact, I just gave notice, and this is my last week.
My admin job is union, albeit a smaller, weaker one, and the postal workers have this massive, stronger union where everything that could possibly be considered a mistake turns into a grievance.
My job involved bidding on assignments. These are temporary assignments to backfill people on extended sick leave. When bidding for other things, vacation, different shifts or schedules, and transfers, it’s ALL ABOUT SENIORITY.
Whoever has been with the postal service the longest wins. There are a few positions where you have to prove you can do the specialized work, but most of it is just plan seniority. Getting seniority dates accurate and updated is crucial. We rely on them being accurate, but guess what? My team can’t change them; it’s the union and HR, and boy, they sure do like to take their sweet time. Anywho…
Recently, we had a bidding for a whack of different positions, but it’s not about plain seniority wins.
The rules discussed and agreed upon with the union was people within the same section (regardless of shift) get first dibs at the positions, in seniority order of course. Then when all the section people’s bids are considered then postal workers outside the section get consideration, in seniority order, of course.
Because of this extra caveat, I have to do things differently than others on my team and pay extra attention to where these people are by section, based on what’s in the system and not whatever, they feel like writing on the bid.
They even take liberties with their seniority date, and heaven forbid they know their rank (number used when two workers have the same seniority date).
I only do this bid every other month because it is time-consuming to get it right, give everyone available a viable chance, get the paperwork to HR for payroll and schedule changes, give the workers and their supervisors notice, etc. Plus, people are constantly coming and going affecting these assignments.
I managed to avoid any bypasses this round, by sheer perseverance and exhaustion, yet this one employee felt like I bypassed them and told their supervisor.
The supervisor did the right thing by emailing me the concern and asking for a consideration.
I looked into the matter and saw that while they had higher seniority than two workers who were awarded assignments this worker was out of the section, so seniority was not a priority for winning over the two who won. I laid out the scenario, attached the rules, and let the supervisor know to tell the worker no bypass occurred.
The very next day, I get a local union rep to catch me while at the office asking about the same worker, same concern.
I tell them I had the supervisor ask me already and explained the above. Rep leaves satisfied.
Then two days after that and my second last day on the job, my supervisor forwards me an email from the union local president for the same worker!
I used to just email the answer to my boss to reply but decided to save us all time.
I email the local’s union president that my boss forwarded me their inquiry, that the worker asked their supervisor already too and they got an answer.
Copied the supervisor. I reattached the rules for them, remind them that the rules are posted in a glass case next to the bid posters and results, that the rules were agreed upon by the union’s local reps, and I personally had a follow up with a rep regarding questions (clerks like me never talk to the union without my boss, but I earned the right to because I know how to keep my mouth shut).
I attach a copy of the worker’s bid since I scan all the bids that get considered and overlooked.
I lay out what assignments the worker bid for.
I stated the seniority date of all the people who won bids the worker tried for that have higher seniority and the one that had lower was in the same section as the position being bid for, but the complaining worker was outside the section, so seniority did not help. Lastly, I confirmed the worker’s seniority date as it is listed in the system because we can only use what’s in the computer. Like I said, if there’s a problem with the date, take it up with the union and HR.
I end with this: “Fortunately, there’s no bypass as more junior in section workers are entitled to the assignment before more senior out of section, in this case <worker’s section>.
Please let the member know this, and we encourage them to continue to bid for future assignments.”
For those interested, my new job pays 25% more, plus better benefits, better industry (uh, letter mail is not really in demand), and while it is not as close to home, non-union, and probably more work than the job I’m leaving, I was experiencing workplace harassment, bullying, and my boss was ineffective at his job in supporting me.”
Another User Comments:
“I’m not against unions at all, but dear Lord, I would never want to be part of one. I know there are good unions out there, mostly in the trades, but every story I ever hear from friends who work in a union is just a nightmare of red tape and pettiness.
I would much rather be a free agent and do my own negotiating by just finding a different job, even if I make less money.” Reddit user
1. Ignore The Developer? It's Your Money...
“I was at the beginning of my career as a developer intern at a local IT company. I was still attending university classes. The agreement was that I would be working 6 hours a week. We were creating a web application with a central user management system (important later). You could use the same credentials for the different modules. This meant a metric ton of users created for testing, and it was the same dataset as the clients’ demo accounts with live email addresses.
The company hired 4 other interns like me, 1 senior developer, and one part-time developer… No architect, nobody to design the architecture. The project was not on a tight budget; yet, they wanted to save money on everything. They wanted to use the internal framework that was supposed to make things easier. Spoilers… It made our lives a nightmare, but the order was to use that, we had no say in it.
We tried to warn the boss that this whole project is going to be a nightmare but he simply ignored us at those rare times when he was at the office.
We have been missing deadlines every time, nothing was working properly, the system was slow.
A logical response from the company was to make us do overtime. We were working 10 hours a day while studying for classes, preparing for end-of-term exams, the remaining time we were trying to socialize (family, partner, etc.).
It soon turned out that we would need to put MUCH more effort into the project than the company intended to. The framework had tons of bugs, every release was a nightmare. 12-hour workdays became regular, one of the interns garnered 270 hours of work in a month (we were paid by the hour, so at least we were compensated in a way).
The test user database has been used by the client for demo purposes.
It had their live email address with proper group memberships. Every action made in the app sent an email to a group that was eventually sent out to the client as well. They could just simply ignore that, that was around 10 emails a day.
After a year, I was at the end of my university years, and it slipped out of my mouth that I don’t feel inclined to support this big pile of bugs. The boss asked me to come into his office.
He told me that they were not satisfied with my performance, and they won’t offer me a full-time position after I would graduate. This was the point where I snapped. They gave me an option to either get my stuff together or leave.
I have noticed that the email service was not working on the test environment, yet it was scheduled. This means that the email has been put in the queue but not delivered. I have mentioned this to the senior developer, but he ignored me like I was the idiot who is not going to be there anyway.
I was sitting there like I should care. I admit, I even got upset about this. Then it hit me… I will just let them do what they want, and once the service is fixed, it will explode eventually.
Once I had my degree in my hand, I left the company. The other interns also got their degrees, but they were offered a full-time position. One of them left 3 weeks after my leaving. They insisted on a probation period for him but didn’t expect him to actually leave.
He did. Another guy left around 2 months after that.
Here comes the best part: They have fixed the email service after a month. In 1 hour around 400,000 emails were sent to EVERY user in the system. The mail server could handle the load, but the client had to assort these one by one. They threatened the team with contacting the CEO (the team already had a bad reputation because of the missed deadline).
Somehow they managed to push the app live.
The requirements said that 500 concurrent users should be properly handled by the server the client had already paid for but it couldn’t keep up with the load, the company had to buy around 200GB of RAM.
They have run out of budget way before the initial live release. The company had to pay more in terms of hardware and penalty than the original budget was.
After leaving the company, I got a full-time job with fractions of stress and a more employee-friendly environment.”