People Treat Us With Their "Out Of This World" Revenge Stories
17. Your "Heart Problem" Entitles You To Special Treatment? Well, You Can't Ride This Attraction, Then
“I worked at a busy Waterpark similar to Six Flags as a lifeguard/attendant.
It was the middle of summer, there were thousands of people in the park, and good ‘camping/setup’ spots were limited by lunchtime.
While lifeguarding over a fake beach/wave pool, we were periodically required to tell customers on the dining table that the seating was short-term seating only, while they eat their food, etc. Otherwise, people leave their towels and bags over every table and flip out if anyone tries to eat at ‘their table.’
Most people are cool and clear out after eating, freeing it up for the next customers.
These tables are constantly packed when it’s busy.
One lady has decided that she’ll pull 2 tables, and 8 chairs together, spread all her stuff around, and start reading a book (with a coffee). This is incredibly rude and angers a lot of customers (rightly so).
So after the waves turn off (20 min on, 10 off) I do the walkthrough with the same spiel “Limited seating, appreciate if you could free up once you’re finished your meals etc, etc” I get to this lady who says:
“I’m drinking a coffee”
“I understand, but you can’t really set up ‘base’ here, we keep the dining tables free for people with food to have somewhere to eat.
There are plenty of spaces here, here n here”
Another half-hour goes, I go through the tables again, the same spiel, etc, get to this lady.
“Sorry Ma’am, but I really have to ask you to move on shortly, you’ve taken up 8 seats and 2 tables for the last hour while only occupying one…”
“I’m reading a book! Get your manager if you have a problem, show some initiative! (She actually said that…)”
So call the duty manager over, he has a chat, calms her down, comes back to me and says, “She claims to have a heart problem and can’t walk around much or be in the heat, etc, so just let her be”
Not a problem, I’m not going to harass a lady with a cough and heart problem, and the Manager is cool with it so I don’t care.
About 3 hours later I was rotated on one of the more popular group waterslides. The lineup was over an hour.
Low and behold, look who it is! The same lady, with some of her friends.
She gets to the front of the line, attempts to step into the ride:
“Sorry Ma’am, unfortunately, I can’t let you ride this today”
“As it’s a ‘thrill’ ride, people with heart conditions aren’t permitted to ride” (not entirely true, they are just not advised to ride, I wasn’t going to tell her this though).
“I don’t have a heart condition!”
“I’m sorry if I was misinformed, but I’ve been notified that you have a heart condition, and so really wouldn’t feel comfortable putting you in this situation, risking it, etc, your friends are fine to go through!”
They all took off yelling and laughing etc.
“This is b.s! I want to speak to your manager!”
I radioed to the Manager, briefly let him know the situation, and heard the amusement in his voice when he said he’ll be around soon.
She waited another 30 mins standing at the top of this line, only to be greeted by, guess who, the same Manager she claimed she had the heart condition to. While putting on his incredibly sincere and concerned voice, he told her how he couldn’t possibly risk putting her in a situation like this, opening them up for court action, etc. She tried pleading to him that she didn’t really have a heart condition, and how it was something else, etc.”
Another User Comments:
“This was great.
You know, as an aside, I’d say I read an average of 3 or 4 stories like this a day on Reddit, and I assume it happens dozens, hundreds of times a day to people who work in this kind of environment. I’m just…confused…as to why she would feel so freaking entitled to take up space and seating, etc. If I feel like I’m doing something that’s the least bit inconveniencing to somebody else, I stop freaking doing it. How are these people not ashamed of this behavior? How is it that I’m aware the world doesn’t cater to my needs, and these people just…are not?” Reddit user
16. Screw Me Out Of The Business I Built? Watch The Tables Turn
“I once started a tech company and developed a very marketable product. Being a techie who couldn’t sell his way out of a paper bag, after about 4 years I eventually found a couple of partners to work with to help market and promote a business based on my tech and take things to the next level. They didn’t buy their way in (my first mistake) and our contract wasn’t written with adequate protection for me (my second mistake) since we were all “friends” and I never thought anything bad would happen.
We still had our day jobs and things were progressing nicely on building a business while we each still had day jobs. We were starting to be successful and edging towards the ability to make quit-your-job kind of money. After a while my partners started acting strangely and started floating the great idea to form a new business, form a new LLC, and roll our existing successful business into it as “one of the offerings” which we would all make zillions from.
They talked it up for weeks and eventually sent me a lengthy and confusing contract to sign. I knew right away the ideas for the other offerings for the new business were losers and got the suspicion that the only reason they wanted to do this was because they wanted to exploit the revenue from the existing emerging business and do away with me in the partnership.
I smelled a rat and my spidey senses were tingling. Since one of my roles was systems admin, I spent one afternoon perusing their email on our server and in a matter of minutes, I found hard evidence of their plot to perform the aforementioned merger and promptly make use of a clause that would allow them to vote me out and leave me high and dry.
It certainly explained why they were chomping at the bit for me to “hurry up and just sign the new contract already.” Closer scrutiny of the proposed contract showed that they would have been able to do screw me out of the deal with no payout, and leave me with nothing. They were going to shaft me out of 8K hours of development time and were going to be making dough off my technology for who knows how long.
I immediately picked my jaw up off the floor, did some research, went to a lawyer, and devised a plan for me to be able to walk away from the partnership and operate the business on my own. This was tricky and took way too much time and money because of the lack of protection I had due to a lousy contract between us. I was successful and was able to oust them, and I still operate the business to this day, all on my own.
Here’s the revenge part. My now former partners went on to start their new business. One of the Evil Partners still had a day job as VP of sales a company in the same industry as the new company they were building. I won’t say who or what industry, but this was a clear conflict of interest in a narrow business space. This person was mining the Rolodex and stealing clients away with the goal of jumping ship and running the new company with the purloined client base.
I knew all of this and this was one of the reasons I didn’t want to merge companies, to begin with, since this behavior is illegal, unethical, and just plain icky. I waited a suitable amount of time to distance myself from the situation, then sent a package to the owner of the company for which the Evil Partner still worked and provided evidence to their efforts to undermine and steal all their clients.
Results were as expected – Evil Partner was fired and sued. This was years ago and every time I remember what almost happened to me and the bullet that I dodged, I just laugh and thank my lucky stars. The fact that I was able to give it right back to Evil Partner makes me smile. So Yes, revenge can be satisfying when applied to well-deserving jerks.
Moral of the story:
Even if you have trust in your partners, money changes things. Get a lawyer and have a real contract written up to protect yourself.
Don’t try to screw over your Partner if they can read your mail, or at least use Gmail when doing so.
Reading others’ mail is wrong, don’t do it. Unless you have to.”
15. Run Over My Father? You Can't Run Away From The Law
“Once upon a time, my parents hired a company to redo their kitchen. They were basically supposed to change the marble countertops.
The company was formed by husband, wife and three employees.
They set up the countertops and soon realized a minor part of the marble did not fit exactly. They had to take the small bit that didn’t fit back to their headquarters to redo the work.
At that point, my parents had already paid 90% of the price.
One week later they came back without prior notice and gained access to their apartment through the maid, who opened the door to let them finish the job.
My parents were out on an errand.
After the contractors finished their job, the owner called my father on his mobile and told him the job was completed. Since there had been problems with the execution before, my father told the man that he would come back home in about an hour, check the quality of the final touches and promptly pay the remaining 10% of the price.
The man went ape and told my father that payment was due on the spot. My parents interrupted what they were doing and hurried back home. But at this point, the contractor was already mad at them and took out every single bit of marble he had put in place and put it all in his van.
Never mind the fact that, as I said, 90% was already paid for.
Upon arriving home, my father noticed that all the stuff he paid for was in the van and being taken away. He is a man of action and promptly put himself in front of the van to impede its exit. The contractor did not back down and just ran over my father, who was 65 at the time. His bruises were not grave, but he filed a criminal suit against the man.
The problem is that he hired a company, so he didn’t know the contractor’s name. And to file suit against someone, you must indicate his name, of course.
The police weren’t very eager to determine the identity of the perpetrator. And that’s when my parents called me.
I dived into the matter and found out not only his name and address but several lawsuits against this guy and his wife.
They took several loans and had not repaid them, they sold real estate and did not deliver, they crossed many people in business deals. In short, they owed a lot of people and banks in consequence of morally doubtful behavior. And they had empty apartments in Copacabana, a very prized area of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
I gave the police the name of the guy and, on the side, purchased some of the credits against them owned by financial institutions.
I represented my parents in the criminal lawsuit against these people and got them sentenced to jail (the husband) and reparation (the wife). But I also pursued the exaction of the debts I bought and, six years later, I got one of their apartments as repayment of one of the debts.
Now I am still waiting for a judicial decision on the second apartment. It seems I will also take this one.
The best part is that I paid only 25 thousand reais to buy the credit and the apartments are worth, together, a little under 1 million reais.
This guy should not have run over my dear father… I bet this is one decision he regrets every day.”
14. Mess With My Dogs? I'll Mess With Your Tenancy At This Apartment Complex
“Years ago, my mother and I had just moved to a new dog-friendly apartment complex. We had 2 dogs, one was a bichon Shih Tzu and the other is a terrier poodle mix. Because of them, we were excited about the community dog park right next to our building.
Also to note, our new building was filled with dog owners, each with dogs ranging from small to huge.
Our apartment was on the first floor in the back of the building, all the way in the corner. It was a nice private area for us with how the apartments were situated.
Since one of our dogs is a terrier, he can be a bit barky when we are not home. Though when we are home we have a clicker to get his attention, which he has been trained to stop barking and come to whoever has the clicker.
Due to our work hours, I was usually home in the morning and mom was home in the afternoon, leaving him alone for a few hours during the day.
After a month of moving to our new apartment, we received a note on our door. It was from one of our neighbors. It stated, “Dear neighbor, I understand that you are new to this complex, but it is rude to allow your dog to bark.
It is ruining my sleep before I go to work, and my job is extremely important. I don’t care how you do it but shut your dog up.”
My mom turned in the note right away to the leasing office as she wasn’t sure what to do with it. That is when the office told us not to worry because he had done this to every dog owner in the building.
They did ask us to see if we can find ways to calm him down when we were not home.
So we did. We found out the kids of the neighborhood liked playing with the power station outside our apartment and that is who he had been barking at. So we closed off that area for him when we went out and no one was home.
We started playing calming music as a way to help as well.
Another week goes by and this time we hear a knock at the door. We go outside, and we meet our angry neighbor.
He explains that our dog has kept him up every day and woke him up with his hours of barking. Both of us had been home that day, and our dog had been a good boy and had not had excessive barking. I still remember what he had told us when I explained that.
“I know what I heard. If you can’t control your dog, then I am going to call animal control and have them both taken from you. I did it before and have no problem getting rid of your dogs too.
Then I’ll get you kicked out for not following your lease, and I can do that because I am very rich and the apartment needs my income.
So do something to shut your dogs up or else.” After that and my mom apologizing for what had happened, we went back in. A few moments later, I walked out to get the mail and discovered from another neighbor that he had gone to 3 other apartments and made similar threats.
After some convincing, my mom told the apartment what had happened. We were told not to worry, and if he did that again to please contact them.
We also found out that the apartment had offered him an apartment way from the dogs, but he had declined since the dogs were the problem and not him.
However, what he had done, my mom began to show signs of anxiety and bought a lemon spray bark collar for our dog.
While I didn’t like this idea, it had put her at ease to go outside our apartment.
We did make sure to only put it on him when we both were not home.
A month went by peacefully, then once again we get a knock on our door. This time it was animal control. They had gotten an ‘anonymous’ report of a dog being abused and neglected in our home. They explained that someone has said that our dogs were barking because of neglect.
My mom invited the AC lady inside and explained the situation. We showed her everything we could to prevent our dogs from being taken away.
The nice lady noticed how playful and happy our dogs were and figured it was another false call. She explained that they had gotten a few of those from an anonymous concerned neighbor for other apartments in this building.
The AC lady left, telling us that if they threaten again to try and get it on record.
This event had turned my mom into a paranoid person who became afraid to leave the house, thinking that if she did, then she would lose her pups. Normally I am the calmest person in my family, never really letting anyone get to me, but this neighbor had done this to hurt us. So I did my research and discovered a few things that could legally help us.
With new information on certain laws and leasing terms, I formed a plan.
During the weekend that my mom was visiting my aunt in a different state, I began my plan. I started it by printing out a few things and then sat outside with my phone and a speaker. I began to play a video of a dog barking really loud. I had figured out which apartment was his thanks to a few neighbors who also were tired of being harassed.
I sat there looking across the courtyard to where his apartment was.
I waited with a huge smile on my face, and as I hoped for, he stormed out and headed over to where I was. I turned off my video and turned on my recorder without him noticing.
His face is red with anger as he looks at me sitting there with a smile.
“I’m sorry can I help you?” I ask him
I effing told you what I will do to your family if you effing didn’t stop your dumbbutt mutt from ruining my sleep.
Now, I’m going to get them taken from you and get you kicked out for not doing as I said. I gave you a freaking chance. I hope when they take your dogs that they are killed and you and your mom live inside a cardboard box.”
I give him a fake ‘oh dear’ look and say, “So you are saying that I am not allowed to make loud noises including my dogs barking between the hours of 7 am and 11 pm? And that I went against the law by doing so?”
“You know you did.”
“And you are telling me this from my porch? At 2 pm in the afternoon.”
“This won’t be your porch once I tell the leasing office.”
That is a very serious threat for my dogs and my family, isn’t it.”
“Heck yes it is!”
I give him a huge smile and turn off my recorder from my phone. The neighbor is confused now and I ask him to have a seat, I have a few things to show him. I pull out my papers and hand him the first one. It was the county’s noise ordinance laws.
In our county, a dog’s bark was considered the same amount of sound as a loud appliance, so they can bark between the hours of 7 am and 11 pm.
Before he could talk, I pull out another paper. This one states that it is against the leasing terms to threaten another neighbor and after one warning that the apartment complex had the right to revolt their lease.
He looks at me with an understanding of what he had done now. I silence him and pull out one last paper. This one was another leasing term I had found. This face after reading this one had made him turn white.
This last one talked about how it was a complete violation of leasing terms to go onto another renter’s property and threaten them or their property.
This includes the renter’s outdoor area. Those found guilty of this violation will have their lease revoked immediately and be forced to leave the apartment within a set time.
The scared look on his face was priceless as I silently got up and walked back into my apartment.
After he finally left, I called my leasing office and explained what had just happened and agreed to email the recording to them right away.
A week later my mom came home with some news that she had learned from the leasing office. The man had been evicted from his apartment and would be leaving later that week. I found out that my actions had caused the other dog owners of the building to come forward and admit what he had been doing to all of them.
After that, there was never another complaint and I threw away the lemon spray collar. My mom still gets anxiety attacks once in a while, but has been getting help to ease those worries. As for me, I don’t regret what I did, I just feel bad that it had to come to this.”
13. Act Like You're Single When You're Not? Everyone Will Find Out Via Your Voicemail
“My partner, of then 6 years, and I had broken up. Well, more accurately, she had broken up with me. This was 4 months after us moving across the country from NJ to CO at her request, so she could live near her parents. I had gotten a job, but other than that, I was a stranger in a strange land. She asked told me to move out of the apartment that we had just gotten even though her parents lived right down the street and she could easily go live with them; she could not afford our apartment on her own (I could and she eventually did jump ship and I lost my deposit), and I had nowhere to go.
I pleaded with her to give me the apartment. She didn’t care. Her whole mentality through the whole thing was that she was not giving an inch for any reason, even if it was for the benefit of everyone.
Anyhow, so one day I go back to ‘our’ place to talk to her. I really wanted her back and I couldn’t understand why, out of the blue, she didn’t want to be with me after 6 years or so.
I kept asking her if she was with someone else. Because, to me, that would be the nail and I would just move on. But she insisted over and over that this wasn’t the case. Sometime during this conversation, she said she was going to go to my friend’s house and have him come pick me up (I had nothing. I sold everything I had, including my car, to get us to Colorado).
This friend had dropped me off there after I requested he do so. I was living on his couch (and many others). So, at this point, my ex went to get him to come get me.
While she was gone, for some unknown reason, I decided to check the voicemail. The first message went something like this: “Hi Tina, listen, you need to change your voicemail. It says “we” are not home.
And, well, if Alex calls and hears that, he is going to know that you have had a partner the whole time you have been seeing him…”
And that is how I found out. I was devastated and fuming angry at the same time. The truth, it finally came out and she had been lying to me and being unfaithful to me this whole time and she dragged me across the country (by happenstance) to do it! So, I did what any rational person would do under these circumstances…
I changed the access code to the voicemail. I then changed the outgoing message to, “Hi! This is Halbowitz. Unfortunately, I’m not at home right now because it ends up Tina has been unfaithful to me and has been hooking up with a guy named Alex. Of course, she never fessed up to it and thought it would be easier just to kick me out of house and home with nothing more than the shirt on my back and her lies denying her infidelity in my head.” and I also said some other choice things.
But, for the most part, that is the msg I left.
Well, since the phone was in my name, she had a hard time getting that message off the voicemail. So, for weeks after that, anyone who called when she was not home was greeted by that message. And since she didn’t have much of a reason to call her own number and hear the message, she didn’t know I had changed it for some time and was LIVID when she found out.
I’ll admit though, I did get a small amount of satisfaction from it. She did everything she could to make the breakup as rocky as possible while I bent over backward to appease her. So, this, as small as it was, was something for me to hang my hat on.”
12. Horrible Neighbor Loses His Lady
“When I was 21, I had just moved to a new city into a townhome-style apartment with some friends of mine. We all had jobs at a tire factory and as such worked shift work. When we moved in, we were given very explicit parking spots (that were conveniently unmarked). These parking spots were not in front of our townhouse and were a few buildings down.
Fast forward a few months – the king of jerks moves in a few doors down from us, right behind our parking spots. This guy was a real pain in the butt – I overheard him making fun of our neighbor’s daughter who has a severe case of cerebral palsy. He was an awful human.
Anyway, my roommates and I were working nights one time (7 pm – 7:30 am), so we generally slept the days away.
It was early spring, all the snow was melting, and the city issued some signs saying that the streets had to be cleared on X day from blah to blah so they could clean the gravel/rocks/garbage from the winter months. Our parking spots weren’t on the street (they were in a parking lot place off the street), so we parked and went to sleep like normal.
We wake up, go to do our regular routine, and boom – vehicles are all gone. Do some calling around, find out they were towed, so we go through this hassle of finding a way down there, paying the fees, and getting our vehicles back. Between the cab rides, tow fees, tickets, and a few missed work hours each, this ended up costing us ~$500 each (there were two of our cars towed).
Jerk McGee ends up telling us in passing the next day how he forgot to move his cars, so he called the cops and reported that he couldn’t park off the street because somebody is illegally parked in his spot. Turns out the police ran our plates, got our address (which was just down the street), and apparently tried ringing the doorbell, which none of us heard because we were sleeping.
I’m not sure about my roommates, but I was still adjusting to shift work and slept with my AC on + earplugs. So yeah, we were pretty angry about all of this. We had a few conversations on how we could get back at the idiot. One night, we came up with this:
Jerk had a pretty decent chick. I’m not really sure why she was with him – maybe he was nice to pretty people.
Regardless, we followed his schedule for a while. His girl was out of the house the same times on the same days working: Tuesday – Saturday, 8-4:30. We staged a few fake pizza deliveries, and this dude never answered the door if she was home. Easy enough. So one Monday that summer we called a service to help us find a very beautiful woman. We told this chick exactly what to say, what to say in certain situations, etc.
Took about 2 hours of coaching and going through mock situations, but it played out flawlessly. Cost us $100 an hour for 3 hours. We send her over there, she knocks, girl answers.
Girl opens door. the woman, with a stunned look: “Oh no, is Tuesday tomorrow?” Girl then started questioning why the heck some lady is coming around, but we gave this chick answers to everything.
She started talking about how she’s been coming every Tuesday for months, things start getting louder. Jerkk-sauce is at the door at this point, saying crap like, “Baby, I have no idea what she’s talking about!”
Then the freaking killshot. The beautiful woman starts talking about dates she came over that this chick was out of town, nothing a random person would know. After they started yelling at each other, the beautiful woman took off blowing off the situation.
There’s no way any person would admit to seeing another beautiful woman every day for months. There was nothing he could do. They were yelling at each other for a good 10 minutes before they took it indoors. She moved out by Friday. Mission accomplished.
And for the record, I feel absolutely no freaking guilt. It helped that I worked with this chick at Future Shop to know her schedule, and we later got to know each other REALLY well. Awesome.”
11. When Both Your Supervisors Are Confusing You, Don't Listen To Either Of Them
“I used to working Parking Control at a busy airport in Australia.
So a little bit of background on how this job works. I used to work Parking Control at the big airport. It has one domestic and one international part to the airport (about 5 minutes apart via shuttle bus).
I was the guy who told you which taxi was yours, to move on if you spend too long at the drop-off or quick pickup zone (Kiss and Ride in Australia), where the Ubers were, covered control in the multi-level car parks, and more.
This particular day, I was on the Kiss and Ride section, or as we called it, Row D, at the domestic airport. Cars were allowed to pull up and quickly drop off or pick up people.
If cars stayed longer than a few minutes, I had to move them on (normally to do a lap around the airport or go to the nearby McDonald’s to wait for their relatives to call them), so others could pick up their relatives.
Due to the nature of how big the airports are, we normally have 3 supervisors/managers on at any one time. One for the domestic, one for the international, and one in the control room.
Everyone was on radio networks, separate for each airport. The supervisor on Domestic that night we shall call Duey, and the one in the control room we shall call Huey.
I was about 4 hours into my 8-hour shift, patrolling all of Row D when Duey walked up to me and asked me to cover Taxi Rank for a while.
Some people had been rotated around because someone had to leave early.
Hey, no problem, Duey, so I went to Taxi Rank. About 20 minutes into Taxi rank, I get a call over the radio asking why I wasn’t on Row D from Huey in the control room. I explained that Duey asked me to do Taxi Rank. Huey said he needs me back on Row D now.
I ask was no one on Row D? To which I find out no, so off I went back to Row D as Huey told me someone would soon arrive to do Taxi.
Another 20 minutes later on Row D, Duey comes back in person and asks what the heck am I doing here; why ain’t I doing Taxi? I explain that Huey asked me to.
Duey told me not to listen to Huey; he is in charge on the ground at Domestic, so I do what he says.
I hesitated a little but did as I was told, so back to Taxi I went.
Now that I look back on things, I think at this point Duey’s radio was down, low battery. This happens from time to time, and you don’t always notice as you just think things might be quiet.
I say this as surely Duey heard Huey over the radio order me back to Taxi.
Like clockwork about 30 minutes later, Huey was right up butt over the radio asking why I left Row D. I told him Duey told me to do Taxi. I was cut off when Huey told me not to listen to what Duey said. He was in charge, and if I don’t listen to Huey, I would be written up, and if I mention another word about Duey or the Taxi rank, I would be written up.
Okay, so back to Row D I went… again.
By now, I only had about 1 1/2 hours left on my shift, and I was looking forward to going home after this day. Again, Duey found me on Row D and demanded to know why I wouldn’t follow his orders and wasn’t at Taxi Rank. He said Josh was there, and it was supposed to be me on Taxi, so he came to find me.
I tried to explain what Huey told me, but upon hearing Huey’s name, Duey was having none of it. He told me to go to Taxi and not leave it again till the end of my shift, or I would be fired.
Figuring a write-up isn’t as bad as losing my job I complied with Duey and went back to Taxi… again. And yup, you guessed it.
Only took Huey another 30 minutes to get on the radio and scream and threaten me for disobeying his orders. I have to get over to Row D right now or I won’t need to worry about a write-up. I thought to myself screw this. Both supervisors are having it out with each other and I’m the punching bag in the middle they are taking their anger out on.
Both Huey and Duey told me not to listen to the other, you got it. So I went to the airport food court and had myself a feed for my last hour of work before heading home. Yup, I snuck out of work and clocked off without either of those dumb ducks finding me, was not in the mood for that. Turned my phone off as well, as I’m not supposed to listen to orders from the other, right?
When I got in the next day the manager was waiting for me with a smug Duey standing next to him.
Manager, Duey, and I all shuffled into Manager’s office. The manager proceeded to ask me what the heck I was thinking using the last hour of my shift to have a dinner break? I asked him did he see the camera footage of me in the food court? The manager said yes and again asked why. I told him both Huey and Duey kept telling me to go to different locations last night, and if I didn’t do what they told me I would be fired.
I told the Manager Duey wanted me on Taxi, while Huey wanted me on Row D. The manager looked puzzled for a second. He asked me if I was supposed to be at either Taxi or Row D, then why was I in the food court? I told him in more detail this time because Huey threatened to fire me if I didn’t ignore Duey, and Duey would have my job if I didn’t ignore Huey.
So I did what I was told and ignored them both. Duey cried foul, saying I was lying.
The manager asked Duey to step out of his office. Duey only did so after much protest. The manager asked me to tell him the full story, which I did. He then told me to have the rest of the day off, a sweet long weekend for me (as it was Friday).
When I got back to work on Tuesday, I found both Huey and Duey were no longer employed at the airport.
My friend Josh filled me in that both Huey and Duey chucked a huge tantrum in protest of my allegations. The manager telling them that the security footage of me constantly moving locations and testimony from other employees convinced him I was telling the truth. Josh was in the break room near the manager’s office and heard the whole thing go down before seeing Duey storm out of the building, followed by Huey who looked defeated.
The manager told me next time to call him instead of just taking a dinner break at the food court, but I wasn’t in any trouble. Wish I could say the supervisors that replaced Huey and Duey were better, but that might be a story for another time.”
10. Overflow The Recycling Bin? I'll Fill It Up After It's Dumped To Prevent You From Putting Your Stuff In
“So for context, where I live the local waste management has recently changed their pickup schedules. We used to get our recycling and our waste collected once a week, but they’ve recently changed it to alternating 2 weeks.
One week recycling, next week general waste. Annoying, but not unmanageable, or at least that’s what my husband and I initially thought.
You see, we live in a house split into 2 apartments.
We have the bottom floor, and the top floor has at least one family, and two young men living there, if not more. We have our own separate waste bins, but the recycling bin is shared for both households.
Unfortunately, the people upstairs come from a place where it’s normal to buy massive amounts of bottled water to drink rather than tap water, which isn’t really a thing here.
I understand it’s a normal thing where they’re from, but tap water here is drinkable, so it is unnecessary.
Every week the recycling bin is filled to bursting with these giant empty plastic bottles, and even though my husband and I rarely have huge amounts of recycling, there is often no room for our share in the bin. And then when we both come home from work that evening, they’ve already nearly filled up the recycling again! We can’t win!
This was only mildly frustrating when it was a weekly pickup, but since they changed it last month, it’s downright infuriating.
We are expecting a baby so we’ve received lots of gifts in cardboard boxes and bags from family and friends, which is an unusually large amount of recycling for us that, having nowhere to go, has clogged up our house for the past 3 weeks.
We tried to put the cardboard box for our stroller in the recycling 3 weeks ago, but in the night, the people upstairs took it out to fill the bin with their bottles and also, their unwashed meat packets!! We came home from work the next day to find the cardboard still on the side, now soggy from the rain, and all the recycling left there too, because of the unwashed meat packets they’d left on top!
So now we would have to wait another 2 weeks until we could put all our stuff in there, all the while upstairs is gathering 2 week’s worth of crap to dump in it next time!
This was the last straw.
We tried looking into purchasing another recycling bin for ourselves, but it costs $100, which we don’t have lying around. Not to mention I have a feeling it would just become upstairs second recycle dump. I realized it was time to get petty.
Today is finally the day the recycling has been taken, and I am now on my maternity leave, so I am home all day.
I got up very early, I waited until the bin men had come, and then immediately took all of our boxes, all our bags, all that 2 extra weeks of recycling we didn’t get to unload and I dumped all of it into the newly empty bin.
And for good measure, I took the soggy cardboard pram box and dumped it back in there too.
Even with all that, the bin still isn’t completely full, but good luck to upstairs trying to stick all their stupid bottles and meat packets piled up for 2 weeks in there.
Now they have to wait another 2 weeks just like we did, that is if I don’t get there first next time too.”
9. You Paying In Pennies Just Means I Have To Count Extra Carefully
“Years ago, I’m cashiering at a whacky mart on a register that holds all the smokes and drinks. It’s 10pm and these two young men (early 20s) come up to the counter. They have three random novelty items (I don’t remember they were), but it was strange and unusual to get odd items this late at night.
Maybe it was for some fraternity, I don’t know. It’s a college town so I get weird stuff from frats a lot.
I scan the items and tell them their total is $22.xx.
Grinning at each other, they reach into their jackets and slam down two-gallon zip-lock bags, full of only pennies. I stare them in the eye, but they didn’t even look back at me. Everyone else in line groan and went to other registers. These two kids knew what they were doing, but they didn’t know what they were in for because I prepared for this; I knew this was going to inevitably happen.
I grinned with them because I was gonna get paid during this. These pranksters are here for recreation. This convo occurs between Me, Ringleader (the other guy was silent and awkward), and a friendly coworker of mine.
Me: Is this $22.xx?
Me: Did you count it?
Me: Are you going to?
Me: Is it at least $22.xx?
Ringleader: Don’t know.
Coworker: Hey! You guys can use the self-checkout.
It can take all of your coins at once.
Me: Oh, don’t worry about it Cowor–
Ringleader: Nope, don’t trust them lady.
Coworker: What? Why!?
Ringleader: Doesn’t count all your change right.
Coworker: I’ve used them before. It really works!
Me: (to Coworker) I got this.
I unpacked the zip locks and threw all the pennies on the counter. It was a beautiful, massive poopstorm of a mess. And I dug in it.
I was Frank in a dumpster in ‘It’s Always Sunny’. The two, still averting my gaze, start chuckling as if they were taking away my dignity. They whisper to each other “Dude oh my God,” “Dude yeah,” “Dude, hilarious.” I counted each penny, one by one.
My coworker comes up to me.
Coworker: Guess I’ll help you count this.
Me: Don’t worry about it.
(She looks at me confused. Then she puts on her ‘get down to busy’ look.)
Coworker: I got your back.
We worked up a system where we counted ten, put them in a pile, then with ten stacks of ten pennies we separated them, making $1 piles. We made progress slowly but surely. Some customers came to the line, but we advised them to get to another line.
Some of them looked at us confused, but when they saw the counter full of pennies they understood.
Some decided to wait, but when they realized it wasn’t going to take just a few minutes they took their leave. Another register in the liquor department opened so it wasn’t too bad for other customers. We get to about $12 (about 10min in) until I “knocked” over the piles.
Me: Oops. Sorry.
(Coworker looks at my grin. I give her a wink and tilt my head, motioning her to leave)
Coworker: You know what, I think I better let you do this.
Me: Ha, alright.
(Coworker leaves. I look at the two guys. They are absolutely stunned at the fallen piles of pennies.)
Me: (To Ringleader) Yeah, I’m going to have to count all of this again.
I started from zero. I count slower than ever and made my way back up. The duo is entirely silent. I get to about $7, when suddenly I say:
Me: Drats. I lost count.
I better start all over again.
Me: Oh yeah man.
Me: I lost count, sir. I could be in trouble if my register doesn’t have the right amount of coins and banknotes, and I don’t want to rip you off.
It’s about an hour later. My manager walks past, looks at me. I smile at him, and he looks at the counter. He walks away without a word.
I eventually count all the change and surprisingly they had only $18!
Me: Hmm, I think that this is $18.
(The duo has been dead silent. They look done for the night.)
Me: I’ll recount it.
I freaking recounted it.
Me: I think this is actually $19.xx.
(Without a word, the Ringleader whips out a $5)
Me: Seriously? You had cash?
Ringleader: Needed to get rid of my change.
Me. No problem. I’ll just recount this again.
I want to make perfectly sure that this is $19, since I counted $18 the first time.
Ringleader: Are you kidding me?
(I shake my head no, completely serious.)
He takes out a $20 bill straight out of his pocket and throws it at me.
My coworker gives the biggest WHAT THE HECK face. Internally, I die as well, because they were smart enough to have a backup plan. And the fact that he was touching the money in his pocket the entire time kinda messed with me.
I take ir, do the transaction, give him his change, thanked him, and wished him a good night. The two start to put their pennies back in the ziplock bags and I didn’t help them at all.
I watched them just as how they watched me. Lots of pennies dropped to the floor, but they didn’t care to pick them up. It looked like their souls were sucked out of them.
It was past midnight and I clocked out way past when I was supposed to. A lot of my coworkers gave me a thumbs up or told me good night. Even my manager told me ‘good job,’ the only two words he ever said to me.
I went to bed at the dorms after such a great petty penny night and crashed. Strange to say, but I’d love to count pennies again.”
8. Get With My Best Friend's Man? Lose Your Apartment And Get Academic Suspension
Better think twice next time before you go against girl code.
“Last year I started hanging out with this really fun group of girls that I met through my master’s program.
I was in a really bad place, and these girls embraced me right away. There were about 5 of us in this girl group, and I loved all of them! Well, I loved all except one. Let’s call her Egotistical Brat (EB).
EB was mean. EB was catty. She was the wildest girl in the group. She always wanted to party. She always showed up late at the University. And she was just so FAKE.
EB and I had the same focus in our master’s program, so I, unfortunately, had to spend A LOT of time with her. That “quality time” together made EB feel very comfortable around me, to the point where she thought she could say anything to me.
In that time, she talked so much crap about every other girl we hung out with. I’m talking really mean stuff. She also continually belittled/talked down to me.
She questioned my intelligence all the time and always tried to undermine me and make me feel less about myself.
Now, I put up with EB because I loved the other girls and they just could not see how toxic she was.
EB also rented a room from one of the girls in my group, let’s call her Dolly. Dolly is the sweetest girl I have ever met. I have only known her for a year, and she is already like a sister to me.
She is the typical southern bell type, all bubbly personality, and strong accent, but she would literally give you everything she had if you asked for it.
EB regularly treated Dolly terribly (late on rent, borrowing/ruining her clothes, never cleaning), but Dolly didn’t say anything because she knew EB came from bad home life and wanted her to feel safe in their apartment (Seriously, Dolly is an angel).
In my program, all the MA students are also Teaching Assistants (TA’s) or Research Assistants (RA’s).
So one day, after submitting all of our student’s midterm grades, our group decided to go out and have a celebratory drink.
Dolly, however, did not accompany us because she was going over to her BF’s house. The rest of us headed to the Irish Pub right off-campus. We all had either classes ourselves or were teaching the next day, so most of us don’t drink that much (my University has a really strict attendance policy even for MA students so we were pretty careful).
Except for EB. She gets wasted.
Like sideways, rip-roaring wasted. This was not unusual. EB was known for getting super intoxicated all the time, but she’d really been struggling with managing her TA’ing and her own classes, so she went for it EXTRA hard. Two hours after we got there the rest of us have had one, maybe two, drinks and eaten to help us stay sober. EB, on the other hand, could barely stand.
Unfortunately, I lived in the same complex as EB, and since Dolly wasn’t there, I had to take her wasted butt home.
On the way home EB starts talking. About Dolly. This jerk was so wasted that she had NO filter. EB starts saying that Dolly is a dumb-inbred- southern-bimbo and the only reason that our faculty advisor liked Dolly so much was that she has a big chest.
She also let it slip that she had been talking to Dolly’s BF and was intending on getting frisky with him.
Apparently, they had been sending revealing pictures for some time, and he’d even been inappropriately texting EB while Dolly was over at his house THAT NIGHT. After telling me ALL of this, she promptly fell asleep in my passenger seat.
At this point, I am in shock.
But I know I can’t let this stand. You can mess with me but don’t mess with my friends.
My first reaction was to kick EB out of my car, but I thought better of it (We live in a pretty big city known for crime, and I may hate the girl, but I don’t want her dead/physically hurt).
Instead, I dropped her off at her apartment, tucked her into bed and grabbed her phone.
Using her thumb to unlock her phone I first found all of the messages between EB and Dolly’s bf. I took screenshots and sent them to myself, deleting the screenshots/message to myself after. Then I turned off EB’s alarm for the next day. As I mentioned, my university is very strict about the attendance of their students, and I knew for a fact that EB already had at least two warnings regarding missed/late classes.
The next day EB didn’t show up to the Lab she taught as a TA. She called in midway through the day and said she had the flu, but unfortunately for her, an anonymous file was sent to our faculty advisor showing a video of her doing Irish Car Bombs the night before.
The file also came with a short note explaining that the last couple of times EB had called in she’d been hungover/lying as well.
The same day I showed Dolly the messages between EB and Dolly’s now ex-bf. Dolly freaked out. I had never seen someone so mild-mannered lose their crap before, but Dolly snapped. She then told me that EB was two months late on rent and this was the last straw. Dolly went home that night and told EB she had a week to GTFO her apartment and pay Dolly what she owed.
When EB said I was a liar and making stuff up to come between them, Dolly showed EB the messages. According to Dolly, the witch went silent. What more could she say?
Within the next two weeks, EB was crashing on some friend’s couch, and she was placed on academic suspension. Apparently, her grades sucked as much as her personality. That combined with her lying/attendance problems caused the University to pull her funding.
I still have to see her, but she now knows better than to talk to me or anyone in our group (we pretty much all cut her out of our lives).
Sometimes I feel like I went too far, but then I remember how smug her intoxicated butt looked telling me she was going to steal my best friend’s man… and I feel much better.”
7. That's Right, I Quit
Clearly, they’ve had enough.
“In high school during the late 90s, I was a server at a pizza chain with a red roof. At the time, this place had dine-in service.
We had a GM, Ray. Ray was a nice guy, but he was better on the business/financial side of the restaurant than managing employees. People generally got their work done, but in retrospect, everybody that worked under him was young, and we probably didn’t give him the respect he was due.
Eventually, Barb showed up. She was an assistant manager from a nearby store that closed.
Barb wasn’t like Ray: it was like she was hired to come in and crack a whip over all of us. Never a “please” or “thank you” for anything. Forget “if you have time to lean, you have time to clean;” if you have time to lean, you have time to clean out the walk-in fridge and rinse it from floor to ceiling.
On Fridays and Saturdays, the restaurant didn’t close until 1 AM.
These were generally the busiest nights. However, I was 16-17 at the time, and I walked to and from work, and my parents said that under no circumstances did they want me working past 11 PM. They didn’t want me walking home after 1 AM and risking being hit by an inebriated driver or some other idiot out at those hours.
I had already been attacked by a homeless person one Friday night that year.
This limitation was written into my file by Ray.
We had several other teen servers with similar scheduling limitations, but it was usually okay– things started dying down at 11, and the adult servers were happy to take all the late tips themselves.
One Friday, it’s 9:45, and we’re still swamped. Mean ol’ Barb is managing.
My tables are mostly wrapping up, so I inform Barb I need to come off the floor if she expected me to do any sidework that night.
She says to me that I need to keep serving and do my sidework, and I can’t leave until the sidework is finished.
I remind her that I must be out the door at 11:00 PM. If I’m not, there’s a high likelihood my parents will make me quit this job, especially after being attacked by that homeless person.
It’s just too busy. If I take more tables, there’s no way I can do sidework.
Plus, I’d just have to hand off those tables to the adult servers anyways, so there’s really no point in me taking more tables.
Barb blows up at me. She starts screaming loud enough for customers to hear about how kids these days are all a bunch of babies and how she hates that “helicopter parents” won’t let their kids “do real work” anymore.
After that tirade, she says, “You have work that needs to be done. You need to stay and do it. I don’t give a darn what time it is. If you don’t like it, you can quit.”
For some reason, her saying that felt like a smack to the forehead: I don’t like this job. There are plenty of other minimum wage jobs I could be doing that would work with my schedule limitations.
I’m a teen just doing this job for scratch money, so forget her!
I reach into my server apron and move all my tips into my pants pocket.
I untie the apron and place it on the front counter. Her eyes get huge, and all I remember coming from her was this screech of, “WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
I tell her I’m doing what she said. I don’t like it, so I’m quitting.
Cue more screeching. She’s so loud the entire restaurant can hear her. At that point, I just turn around and walk out, letting the door of the restaurant close and muffle her screeching.
I make it home before 11 PM.
Ray calls me the next day to get my side of the story. I explain everything. He says he understands, and he backs me up that she shouldn’t have tried to make me stay.
He asks if I could at least come in and work the Saturday dinner rush, but I told him I wouldn’t set foot in that restaurant if Barb was there.
He said that Barb was managing that night, so I chuckled and said, “Well, that’s your problem.”
A week later, I get another phone call from Ray. Over the course of that week, Barb yelled at two other teen employees of the restaurant for similar reasons, causing one to quit.
She apparently also nearly got into a fight with an adult server because she called that server a terrible name and said she was going to “slap the taste out of her mouth.” Barb specifically called her that because she knew the server was in recovery for an addiction.
The final nail in Barb’s coffin? Two customers called to complain that their carryout pizzas appeared to have smoke ashes on them.
Managers usually worked the register at this store, which meant they also cut and boxed to-go orders. Apparently, on less busy nights, Barb would smoke while behind the counter. She was caught on video multiple times in one day with a smoke hanging out of her mouth as she cut pizzas.
Suffice it to say, Barb got fired. Ray was calling everyone back who quit to see if they wanted to come back.
Me? I declined. I had already found a gravy gig working at an antique mall. I didn’t make tips, but I made a better hourly rate, so the money was more consistent.”
6. Hope You Like The Taste Of Burnt Pizza
“I’m the assistant kitchen manager in a gourmet pizza place where we have a giant brick oven. My station every night is manning that behemoth 600 degrees monster for hours on end.
We have an open kitchen where, from the register, you can see the oven and whatever I’m doing behind the register.
Now, a big part of running a giant brick oven is that every possible chance you get, you want to sweep out the burnt semolina (course, wheat grain stuff that’s used to make the pizza slide off the peel into the oven) from the bottom of the oven.
If you don’t sweep out the burnt semolina, you’ll have burning and smoking, black dust covering the whole bottom of the brick oven. When you put the pizza in, the burning semolina attaches itself to the bottom of the raw dough, thus making the pizza look and taste burnt.
Today, my understaffed line is super busy, and I’m trying to keep up with all the pizzas coming in and out of the oven, as well as expediting every order.
A lady comes up to the register where she’s about 8 feet from me and can see my every move, and she asks me where her pizza is. I locate the order, and it’s on the counter for me to put into the oven. I tell her that I’m about to put the pie on the oven after I clean it, and she says to me, “Well, why can’t you put it in before you clean it?”
I try to tell her that if the burning semolina is on the bottom of the oven, it will burn the bottom of the pizza, but she wasn’t having any of it and insisted on getting her food right then, no cleaning the oven, just immediately cooking her pizza.
So, I wait to clean the oven and put her pizza in, all the while this lady is watching me like a hawk from across the counter. A few minutes later, I pull it out, and sure enough, it looks burnt on the bottom. But screw it, she made her bed. I pan up the pizza and hit her buzzer number, and she comes to get her food.
Not even five minutes later, she comes back with such an attitude complaining that her pizza was burnt all to a crisp.
I told her that this is more likely to happen where the oven hasn’t been swept clean, and she kinda just muttered, “Oh.”
Ensue internal victory.
Of course, I offered to make her a new one after I cleaned the oven, but I hope that from now on, she will respect kitchen procedures and not try and argue with the people handling the quality of her food.”
5. Now He's Never Allowed To Fly Drones Again
“About 6 or 7 months ago, my neighbor got a drone.
I don’t mind people having hobbies, but for some reason he insisted on flying like the biggest jerk possible. He would hover in front of other houses and windows, try to “race” cars going down the road, and worst of all he had a habit of flying his drone in my fenced back yard buzzing over my dog, diving low just over my dogs head before circling around to do it again.
My dog isn’t small, he’s about 70lbs and a Malamute, but the drone terrified him, and I was worried about what would happen if it hit him.
I asked my neighbor several times to please not fly in my yard and explained that it was scaring my dog, he basically told me to get lost and laughed in my face. When it still continued, I called the police.
Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do other than ask him to please not fly over my house/property. Finally, in late December it happened – my dog got tired of his crap and managed to catch the drone right as it was driving towards him.
He shredded the drone, the thing was just a jumbled mess of wires and plastic.
The neighbor was angry. He stormed over to my house swearing and threatening me, which I ignored.
A week later, I got a summons to small claims court – he wanted $900 for the cost of his drone and an additional $300 for supposedly denying him access to his property (the drone sat in my yard for a couple of hours before it was retrieved).
Forget that. He could have killed my dog. I don’t have kids or a partner, I just have my dog who is my best friend for the past 7 years.
That dog has moved with me three times, was there when I graduated from college, saw me buy my first house and my first new car. I love my dog. I went to LegalAdvice, got some great help from them. Turns out, him suing me was the best thing to ever happen.
When we got to small claims court, the judge basically laughed away his claims that I had intentionally trained my dog to attack his drone.
But little did he know I was prepared. I had dozens of photos of my yard showing it was impossible for him to “accidentally” fly that low to my dog, videos of him harassing my dog in the past, and I had saved all my medical bills from taking my dog to the vet.
$700 for an Xray? Check. Another $250 to sedate him during? Why not, don’t want him being uncomfortable.
Full dental exam with tooth cleaning/repair? $400. Then there was the cost of anti-anxiety meds and a secondary check-up, wet food for a week in case his teeth were hurt, and extra just for good measure. In the end, the jerk ended up owing me almost $2,000, and now is being investigated by the FAA for not having a registered drone and violating several FAA regulations concerning drone flight, too near an airport, too close to other people, out of sight of the operator and way above the maximum altitude.
Enjoy never being allowed to fly drones again, jerk.”
4. Don't Steal All The Cupcakes
“We had an older Hospital where, over time, we’d been upgrading their CCTV, security, door access, and nurse call/paging systems. I’d been at this company for a few years, but they’d been doing all the sparky work here for over a decade, so we knew the whole place really well.
The buildings, the people, the staff’s positions and job roles.. everything.
I worked there a lot, so I got to know the drama, politics and secret affairs too.
(Also, voices carry into ceiling spaces. This has been a Public Service Announcement.)
I got to lead a team in building and maintaining each of the new systems. These systems had been chosen because they could all work together to achieve the client’s needs, and we’re networked. They were also standalone because Gov’t IT didn’t want the 3rd party gear on their networks.
We had to install all the infrastructure and equipment.
I had network hubs all over the place where I could access all four of these systems.
Summary: I had admin/installer access to 170+ cameras, over 520 doors/gates, the security system, and the Hospital-wide paging system.
(All names are changed.) (Technical details have been simplified.)
One Tuesday, I was sitting at one of my network hubs, doing regular testing/maintenance. I’d just been checking the CCTV, watching Janine do that lop-sided, stumbling walk she does in high heels.
I believed I’d done enough continuous work at 10 am to deserve a treat.
That morning, Nancy, a nurse in Pediatrics, had brought cupcakes in for the ward staff. Nancy had kept two individually packaged cupcakes aside for me, clearly labeled with my name, in the ward staffroom fridge. I walked the 5 minutes over to the ward, humming my ‘I’m about to have cupcakes’ song. (It’s based on a ‘Proclaimers’ track.)
Open the fridge, no cupcakes.
I mean, there were maybe 20 still there in a big clear Tupperware container, but mine wasn’t.
Not the ones Nancy set aside.
Before I just lose my crap altogether and flip that freaking fridge over, I’d better go check to see if something dire has happened. Maybe one of the kids needed these particular cupcakes to stay alive. Maybe these two cupcakes saved the planet.
Work is forgotten, and the investigation begins.
I speak with Nancy.
First, I ask if she saw that Janine was wearing heels again. We both have a chuckle. Then I bring up the cupcake situation. We go through the whole “they were they before”, and the ‘checking of the fridge so Nancy can confirm my story.’ It’s like she doesn’t understand that I wouldn’t joke about this. We begin interviews. No-one in the ward is owning up.
We believe them. Someone ‘not of this ward’ has taken my cupcakes.
The Pediatrics nurses are livid. My team and I, want answers.
(It’s a funny thing. Once cameras and swipe-card doors have been in a while, people forget all about them. Forget that they are always watched. Forget that doors have logs to see who went where, and when. Forget who put them all in.)
Back to the hub I go.
A quick audit of door access reveals that Jerry went into the staffroom between the relevant times.
(Not yet, don’t lose your ever-loving crap just yet, do the due diligence.) Checking the CCTV, I see Jerry. Walking out of the staffroom carrying a bag, wiping his mouth. Rewind, pause, zoom in.. frosting.
The hubs’ rack did nothing wrong, so I step back and stare at the wall. The first 8 thoughts get caught by the filter.
I calm down a little and head back to my nurses.
They see me coming and gather.
Sick kids are an afterthought in this matter. I tell them I know who did it, don’t want to say who just yet, need some time to think, and ask if we can keep this all hush-hush for now. They say they understand, and immediately ask who it was. (They are, after all, Gov’t staff.) I head back to the hub to continue work, not walking 500 miles to eat cupcakes anymore.
As I’m swiping my card across the reader, in that 1 second it takes the red light to turn green.. a plan starts to play like a cinematic in my head.
It’s like my subconscious has known about this day for ages, and is now premiering its devious feature. It screens the permutations, possible flaws, ramifications.
I’m not sure how long I stared at the door.. rewinding, pausing, fast-forwarding.
The plan is beautiful, and I promise my brain a cupcake soon.
Jerry was a General Orderly who was supposed to float around the whole Hospital, helping any ward, and pretty much anyone else when they paged him. He didn’t though, Jerry didn’t like walking around. Jerry was lazy. And did not like patients. He used to work in the wards, but couldn’t find one without close supervision, or patients, so he moved to day-shift general duties.
Jerry hated to be made to walk from one end of the Hospital to the other.
Jerry, HATED the swipe cards and the electronic door locks. Some people just don’t get technology. Some people just hate change and love to complain about it, while not taking the effort to learn how to work it. While responding to maintenance tickets, I’d had to listen to Jerry whinge numerous times about doors.
For this, and other reasons, I did not like Jerry.
Jerry knew my distinctive name, knew what I did here, saw the other 20 cupcakes, and ate mine anyway.
Time to mess with Jerry.
At the hub, I make the necessary improvements to my systems. Select a variety of well-chosen doors. Set auto-paging for different events. Create different calendars. Set some automated conditions so everything swapped and changed around.
Once I’m set-up, with the program on hold, I go see Nancy. I need to give Jerry a chance to own up, even though I’m pretty sure he won’t. I ask Nancy to page Jerry, so she can ask him about the cupcakes.
Nancy isn’t surprised it’s Jerry and is on board. The other nurses gather and ask what’s happening. I tell them that Jerry is about to work off some of the belly.
They aren’t surprised it’s Jerry either and swear secrecy. I walk to the Maintenance Managers (Maint Mgr) office while Nancy summons Jerry.
I go into the Maint Mgrs office grinning. All he says is, “What?”, with a smile. He knows me, we’ve worked closely together here for a while.
We’re mates, and he’s seen that look on my face before. I ask him to just print any maintenance tickets, generated by Jerry, for card/door/gate/pager issues, but not to activate them.
I’ll pick them up while I’m here doing other work and deal with them personally. When I tell him about the cupcakes and my plan, he’s not only on board, he laughs so hard he has a coughing fit for about 25 seconds.
I head back to check-in with Nancy and find that Jerry has, ever so accommodatingly, denied all knowledge.
What I’d created in my systems was a randomized, intermittent program, all focussed on Jerry’s card.
A program that would send Jerry’s pager a message to go somewhere on the other side of the complex, seemingly at random, based on Jerry swiping his card at particular doors.
Or the gate to the staff carpark wouldn’t work.
Or his card would stop working, making him go to get it revalidated. Or a siren would sound for a few seconds when he entered certain rooms.
I already knew all the staff routines and areas of responsibility.
The patients wouldn’t be adversely impacted. And Jerry did nothing anyway.
Back at the hub, I clicked the go buttons.
By Friday afternoon, in 4 days, Jerry had raised 18 tickets. I grabbed the stack of paper from Maint Mgr and went to the orderlies office to find Jerry.
While I gently fanned the tickets, he listed all the weird things he’d been experiencing. He was explaining how the Duty Nurses were getting annoyed at his unexpected arrivals when I interrupted him.
To ask if he’d seen anyone take my cupcakes from the Pediatrics fridge on Tuesday.
The puzzled face he put on was a head shorter than mine, and about 1m/3’ away from the embroidered name on my shirt. No confession.
I’d only had 50 specially selected doors active in the program these past 4 days.
That Friday afternoon, at the end of Week One, I clicked the ‘All’ button..
and added the other 470+ doors.
By midday Wednesday there were only 6 tickets raised. I checked the systems logs and found out why. In just under 3 days, there’d been a mixture of over 85 events. Jerry didn’t have time to lodge tickets.
When I spoke to Jerry that Wednesday, he demanded that I do my damned job and fix this stuff, and why hadn’t I done it yet.
No confession, no apology. Time for some head games.
I told him I’d sort it out. When I went to ‘check the systems’ that Wednesday midday, I stopped the program.
On Friday morning, I turned it back on again.
I let it run Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. I almost felt sorry for him this week when I was talking to him, and considered stopping the plan.
Then I remembered why I didn’t like him so much.
The one thing I haven’t mentioned yet is that standing staring at that door, I already knew Jerry was in the final stages of ‘Disciplinary Management.’ This was the lynchpin to the plot of the film that ran through my head.
Remember before when I said:
(I got to know the drama, politics and secret affairs too.)
I knew that one of those Disciplinary Warnings (among other things) was for taking people’s lunches, on four occasions.
And not because he needed to either. That’s the reason the nurses and Maint Mgr weren’t surprised it was Jerry and were on board. They knew too. Everyone did. That was the reason why he didn’t kick up a stink to his manager or confess. I didn’t want to get him fired, just make him apologize. Cupcakes are serious business.
The Final Week
Week 4 the program ran Monday and Tuesday.
The plan was only ever going to be for a month, or until Jerry confessed and apologized.
Before this Tuesday, I’d had a chat with Nancy. I’d asked her if she wouldn’t mind a cameo in a little vignette. She understood and agreed.
When I was talking with Jerry in the orderlies office, Nancy arrived and handed me a personalized pair of cupcakes.
That looked and were packaged, the exact same as the missing ones a few weeks earlier.
As Nancy was walking away, now-silent Jerry looked from the package to my shirt, then to me.
I held up the tickets, mustered my best Adam Hills, and said, “Don’t be a jerk mate.”
He was silent and very angry. I could see he’d realized that I’d been doing this on purpose. If he made an official complaint, the missing cupcakes would come up, and he’d lose his job.
Also, during our chats, he’d heard me say ‘intermittent issues’ many, many times. Jerry was angry because he knew he couldn’t do a freaking thing about it.
I walked off to the Pediatrics Ward, where Nancy and I were going to eat these treats.
I hummed my tune the whole way.
Unfortunately, Jerry was a jerk one more time. He got sacked 2 months later for taking more stuff out of a fridge.
I felt bad for him as I helped Security save the footage to a drive.
As I was walking up to Pediatrics on that last Tuesday of the plan, I stopped the program and took Jerrys’ pager number out of it.
I had to scrap the program altogether a while later. Some bright Hospital spark finally convinced Gov’t IT to add the systems to the Hospitals intranet. (Sysadmins are killjoys.
Maybe rightfully so. Maybe.)
Janine continued to wear the 4” heels, on and off, until she sprained her ankle. There is no showreel.
Maint Mgr tried bribing me with Jack Daniels after this episode, to add certain pager numbers to the program.
There’s no way I could’ve done that.
He’s an evil, evil jerk. We drank the Jacks as we didn’t watch a non-existent showreel.”
Another User Comments:
“In the military, I learned a saying:
“Never mess with a man’s food, his family, or his finances.”” 1st10amendments
3. I'll Remember The Time You Asked Me To Do It All Without Help
“Many, many years ago, I worked at a large movie theater at a mall as an assistant manager. We were always busy and had full staffing levels on the weekends, but to make up for the payroll costs, off-peak days and hours were staffed extremely low, one staff member per area usually. We always received our inventory shipments on a weekday and in the morning/early afternoon, but they were always such large shipments that my General Manager (a sensible fellow) would usually have an extra staff member or two scheduled to help put the massive amounts of candy, popcorn bags/tubs, drink cups, 35lb bags of popcorn kernels, cleaning supplies and whatnot away.
Even with help, this could take a few hours, there would always be at least 4 or 5 massive pallets delivered.
Well, on one usual inventory day, there was a slight problem. The week before, my GM went on vacation and the Assistant GM (a total jerk) made the schedule. Ever the stingy jerk, he decided it was not worth a few extra payroll hours to schedule any extra people on that day to help out with shipment.
Furthermore, on that day, he had scheduled himself and me as the two managers on duty during that shift, and since he was above such petty things as actually doing any work at all other than sitting in the office reading sports scores on the computer, it was up to me to get the entire order put away, cover breaks for each lone staff member working in-box/concession/usher, and deal with any customer complaints and issues should any arise.
I was (well, still am) a very small, lightweight female, so lifting a couple of thousand pounds of boxes and bags in a short time period while also tasked with the aforementioned responsibilities completely solo just didn’t seem logical to me.
So I made my way back to the office where Assistant General Jerkface McPoopwad was reading golf scores or something. I said “Hey, I could really use some help putting the order away.
I can’t get this all done before the end of my shift.” The jerk scoffed, gives me a sarcastic smile, and goes “I think you can handle it by yourself.” I say “Well, I would really appreciate you covering the breaks for the staff while I work on this, then.
I really can’t do all of this by myself before the end of the shift.” Again, he gives me that poop-eating grin and goes, “Well, if I were working alone, I know I would be able to do it all by myself, so you should be able to as well.
Figure it out.”
Fine. Screw you.
So I go back out there and just start hauling BOOTY to get things put away. In fact, I am furious, and when I am furious, I can be a little careless.
I’m about halfway through the initial third of the quarter of the tenth of the first large pallet of nonsense I am tasked with handling when I realize something that infuriated me even more.
Assistant GM was supposed to be the person who prepped the area we stored candy in the day before. What this means, in theory, is that the person responsible for that goes into the candy storage area, rotates all the stock from the last week to the front left side of the shelves, so we can stock the new stuff towards the back right, so we don’t overlook a case of cookie dough bites and then it goes bad and murders all our customers and we get sued.
Or something like that. Anyway, since he did not do this, I now not only have to put this stuff away myself, but I am now also responsible for rotating the existing boxes on the shelves in a neat stack on the left before I can even think about unloading this pile of overpriced candy.
So now I am just a whirlwind of candy-shuffling fury. As fast and carelessly as possible, I am just punching boxes into their rightful positions without any regard to their delicate innards.
I don’t know if M&Ms can bruise, but some of them probably did that day. My rage was actually helping me out quite a bit until I got to the Twizzlers. For you lucky souls that have never stocked boxes of bulk candy before, most of them are reasonably sized at about 5-10 lbs a box, so while there are a LOT of them, they are reasonably manageable.
This is NOT the case with Twizzlers. Our Twizzler packages were full-sized, and there are about 60 of them in a box.
I could easily move into one of these boxes and have a friend of similar proportions over for company. Twizzlers are also the preferred overpriced movie snack for recently divorced middle-aged white women on their first jump-in back into the romance pool for some reason, so suffice it to say we sold a lot of them.
I’ve got about 6 of these boxes already on the shelf allllll the way to the right with another 6 I need to unload, and NONE OF THEM ARE WHERE THEY SHOULD BE, so this is where I lost it completely.
I shove my arm in to grab the first of the massive box of twisty sugar ropes that is on the right side that needs to be on the left side and QUICKLY… and hurt my arm near the elbow on the metal shelf bracket.
Well, I make my way back to the office to interrupt Jerk McGolfscores and show him my ouchie arm. Despite his failings in literally every other area in his life, he does realize that workplace injuries should be taken seriously because of potential lawsuits and liability and whatnot and immediately located a clinic that we had some sort of professional dealings with that would check out my arm and give me a shot and all that jazz at no cost to myself.
I was pretty hysterical at this point (although not, as he thought, over my injury), and he assumed I was upset about having to lose hours (I was hourly, you see) and assured me that I would receive pay for the full day of work.
So, I got to go to the clinic, get patched up and my shot, and be home about 3 hours prior to the end of my shift while I had the knowledge that the jerk now had to go rotate the stock, get the order put away, cover breaks, and handle people complaining that Saw III wasn’t the intellectual cinematic masterpiece that they thought it would be and could they pretty please get their dough back even though they watched the whole thing please it just was really gory, and they weren’t expecting that okay what’s the number for corporate then, while I got to sit at home receiving full pay for the rest of that day.
Worth the scar, in my opinion.”
Another User Comments:
“While I appreciate your sacrifice to the Severely Overpriced Movie Snack Gods, I think it would’ve been better to either a) keep doing your job at your normal pace, or b) slow to a crawl. Coming from a person with FAR too much experience in getting angry and working faster to get something done, it’s not worth it.” ProjectShadow316
2. Won't Pay Rent? Then Get The Heck Out Of Here
Bye, bad roommate!
“So this happened to me about 10 years ago in a big city on the West Coast. I had just finished grad school and was looking for a way to cut down on rent in an already expensive rental market.
Now, mind you I was young, desperate, and inexperienced with roommates at the time and this was a huge life lesson for me and hopefully for my roommate too.
I placed an ad for a roommate on Craigslist which in hindsight wasn’t a smart move. Enter Bad Roommate. Bad Roommate was a few years older than me and at first, seemed really cool with a stable job as a licensed masseuse. After interviewing her, hitting it off really well and getting to know each other for about a month, we rented a loft downtown around October with the agreement rent/utilities would be split.
Around the time our first rent was due (November) Bad Roommate said that her work had been slow and she would pay rent in the next two weeks.
Luckily I had enough in savings so I covered rent. Well, the two weeks came and went and still no rent. When I asked her about the rent, she yelled obscenities and accuse me of being abusive and harassing her.
No kidding! While claiming she didn’t have dough for rent, she would be out of the house from around 9 am until around 2 am “visiting friends.” All of this nonsense continued on as well as other things such as stealing my food and breaking some of my belongings; including a bottle of spirits that my recently deceased sister had gifted to me.
Bad Roommate’s excuse was “bad energy in the house” while giving me a little smirk.
Fast forward to the beginning of December and you guessed it, still no rent.
This time in addition to yelling obscenities, accusing me of being abusive, and breaking my stuff, Bad Roommate called the police on me accusing me of making threats. The cops did not do anything as there was no evidence I did anything (for the record I didn’t) but they did give me a “lecture” about making threats and said next time they come out I could be arrested or forced to leave the residence.
By this time I was almost out of savings and was fearing eviction. Bad Roommate had not paid rent since move-in.
The final straw came when I came home from work to find her threatening my two cats who were cowering in the corner. I almost lost it, but due to what happened before with the police I didn’t want to poke the fire.
This is when I remembered the officer saying “I could be forced to leave the residence” and a lightbulb went off in my head.
Now the revenge part:
I called my Best Friend whose father, “Best Friend’s dad/attorney” was an attorney. After a phone consultation with him, he told me to pay up the rent and utilities through December and then simply surrender my key, garage remote, etc with a signed note saying that I surrender possession of the property with a specified date. I snapped a photo of this note and left it with the secretary in the management office.
I then proceeded to sign a new lease with the last of my savings. One week before Christmas while Bad Roommate was out “visiting friends” I packed up all of my belongings and left the house pretty much empty except for a few belongings she had; a little bit of food and her bed.
After about two days of angry voicemails, texts, and missed calls from Bad Roommate telling me what a “horrible and irresponsible person I was to do this,” BOOM….dead silence until April.
In April I was served with a summons for breach of contract for abandoning the lease by the landlord. I contacted the attorney (aka Best Friend’s dad) and filed a response to the court with a hearing date set in late May. I showed up to the hearing with my friend’s dad (attorney) and his two I’m guessing they were assistants. Bad Roommate was also there looking smug (think wine bottle incident smirk).
Next thing I know the other attorney announces they are dismissing me from the lawsuit since I surrendered possession of the property but they were not dismissing it against Bad Roommate.
Bad Roommate’s face went gaunt, the smirk disappeared and it was priceless. After some back and forth with her almost getting held in contempt of court for outbursts, the judge ruled against my roommate with the full judgment awarded to the landlord.
The first cherry on top? Best Friend’s dad represented me Pro-Bono.
The final cherry on top? I came to find out a month later via an angry voicemail from Bad Roommate that after being kicked out of a friend’s house while couch-surfing her credit was trashed, she had an eviction on her record, and subsequently could not get another apartment and that again I was a horrible irresponsible person.
I never heard from her again afterward but she was on the news a few months later (mugshot and all) for trashing a convenience store.
Last I heard she moved to Las Vegas.
In the end, my credit did take a small hit. Even though the suit was dismissed the debt was put into collections and reported to the credit bureau. For the next four years, I tried unsuccessfully to have it removed.
At the 4 year anniversary of the lawsuit, I petitioned the credit bureau under the advice of my friend’s dad/attorney to clear my record as the statute for filing suit had expired at the 4-year mark.
Failure to comply with the request would result in a lawsuit against the credit bureau for slander of credit. To be honest I just followed his instructions not knowing what I was even talking about. A couple of days later I received a call that my record had been cleared.
Long story but in the end, it was worth it to get back at an otherwise horrible person.”
1. Like To Short People Hundreds Of Dollars? Kiss Your Rich Life Goodbye
Once your man is out of your life, you’ll be left with nothing.
“So this whole debacle started in my freshman year of college. I went to a religious college so there were a lot of really strict rules regarding curfew and punishments for not going to the mandatory worships, this comes into play later.
Background on me: I am not a physically imposing young lady, just under 5 ft and 100 lbs soaking wet and wearing cinderblock shoes.
At this time I had been recently dumped and so I was starting college practically alone as my ex and I were set to go to the same university but he dropped out to join the military school.
As this was a religious school, we had a sort of camp out in a week or two before classes started, it was meant to be a getting to know you kind of thing, and so we had things called “family groups”, I was a little freaked out, but in the group, there was one loud, overly friendly girl named Sam.
Sam was the same ethnicity as me and so we quickly bonded over a shared ethnic background and how similar we were, she had a man in the army and I lamented my single status and how my ex basically ditched me for the navy. She seemed perfect, sympathetic, social, and fun. I warmed up to our family group with the help of my new best friend.
We had a great weekend and got to know others in the group, including Jess.
Jess was more quiet and disinterested, with a classic case of resting witch face but eventually, she warmed up to me and I to her. Sam didn’t really like them but you wouldn’t know it unless she told you.
The first sign of something off with her was during dinner, I was sitting with Jess and her friend from high school Andy.
He and I really hit it off, but as my heart was still freshly broken I kept some boundaries up but agreed to go watch a movie when we got back from the trip.
Immediately Sam pulled up a chair and was all over him, asking about his past, how he and Jess met, what he thought about her outfit, and on and on. I was a little miffed but just ate my burrito.
For the rest of the trip, Andy and I were hardly apart and Sam got more and more passive-aggressive with me, bringing up my ex and how I was moving on too quickly.
I believed her and canceled my “meeting” with Andy, and said that I didn’t want him to just be a rebound. He was understanding and chill with just being friends which was a blessing for me, but seemingly not good enough for Sam.
After the trip was over I decided to show them around the city since I was a local student. While the others put their stuff in their rooms Sam asked me to stay behind because she had to “confess” something to me.
She started spewing some bs about how Andy had cornered her outside the cabin and was being a pervert and telling her how beautiful she was so on and so forth.
I was skeptical and made it known, but her response was just “just looking out for ya girly.” By then the others came back and I just decided to ignore what she said and have a good time in the city.
This was incident 1.
A couple of weeks go by, Andy, Jess, and I became a little squad of sorts because all our schedules matched up, whereas finding time to hang out with Sam was more than difficult.
This all came to a head when Jess and Andy planned a little trip to the local Benihana place and didn’t invite Sam. She found out via social media and flew off the handle.
I had gone home for the weekend and when I came back on Monday I was greeted with drama, tears, and accusations. The gist of the situation is, the group didn’t invite Sam because she is vegetarian and has a lot of allergies, so it would be dangerous to even step foot in the Benihana, and in retaliation, Sam took her “best friends” aka random girls from the dorm, horseback riding and posted a photo with the caption “better than Benihana”.
Once again this is what I came back to and so things were pretty frosty. I asked for some backstory and apparently, it was work friends who invited Andy and Jess so it wasn’t even their place to invite someone else, and it wasn’t like she would be able to eat anything at the Benihana anyways so they literally didn’t even think they were being rude.
According to Sam, they were purposefully excluding her and that no one likes her and that this was just like it was in high school.
She didn’t have very many friends and we were just becoming privy to why exactly that was.
Incident 3 was the friendship bracelet. She ordered these semi-expensive bracelets for me and Jess but mysteriously Jess’s broke in the mail and the replacement would “totally come any day now.”
Jess pretended not to be hurt but it obviously stung when she would fawn over our bracelets and how we are such great friends.
Spoiler the bracelet never came.
Now I was still trying to smooth things over but it kept getting worse and worse, if I was hanging out with Andy or jess she wouldn’t speak to me, but would only talk crap when we were alone. During all of this Andy and I kept getting closer and eventually started seeing each other but low-key cause the whole situation with Sam and we didn’t want to set her off.
I know we were spineless back then.
Now for the catalyst for the revenge. She was a wanna-be YouTuber and wanted to do a holiday video.
Andy is a film major but he doesn’t want anything to do with her after all her lies and petty behavior. But then she made an offer we couldn’t refuse, “I’ll give you $200 and pay for food” and for what should’ve been an hour or two of filming we were sold.
I was set to manage the site since that’s my personality is “get it done”, and he was in charge of filming.
He worked so hard on it y’all, he storyboarded, he made a script for her, he got all his equipment together. I was so proud of him. I contacted the diner where we were filming and got everything together and we were set.
Filming Day arrives and we get our hair and makeup was done for the “actors” and “actresses” and we all get to the diner an hour before, at her insistence, and set up.
She says she’ll be 30 minutes late and so we decide to eat after shooting some B-roll. Guess how long it took her and her “entourage” to arrive? 2 whole hours. We finally get filming and if you are counting we have been at the diner for 4 hours, pre-filming. We spend another 2 hours filming and we have to take after pics in our outfits and everything.
Did she pay for our food? Nope.
And she tells Andy “You got a big payday coming, you deserve more than 200 for today.” He’s happy cause he wanted to take me out for a nice date for the holiday but spoiler again, she didn’t pay up.
So a week or two goes by and it gets closer and closer to holiday and we already turned over all the footage we are just waiting for payment.
Then came the excuses, “I don’t trust Zelle.”, “I’m waiting for my auntie to pay me.”, “my aunt’s in the Caribbean right now and she doesn’t trust Zelle either.” We kept hounding her for the money and the holiday came and went, she posted the video and stopped answering texts.
Since we all lived together I confronted her and more excuses then she said give her two more weeks.
During those two weeks, she told everyone who would listen that she already paid us and that we were terrible people to try and extort her for more. Now at this point in the year, we are fed up with her, and Andy is ready to write the 200 off, he complains to his smoking buddies and the smoking buddies get our side of the story out to the relatively small school and pretty soon she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
She gets nasty, texting me all this bs about how Andy is being unfaithful to me and that I deserve better and screenshots of their conversations where he supposedly tells her how he’d rather not be committed. Now we had some commitment issues in the beginning, on both sides, but she tried to present these texts as recent, not stuff from months ago. The final straw was when she called me stupid and naive for staying in the relationship despite him being a greedy man.
Now I was going scorched earth, for some background on Sam. She was a chronic liar, like get wasted at a party and give a guy some special treatment type of liar, then go out the next weekend and do it again.
She was also married, she and her husband got married right out of high school, which is typical of army guys in my experience. The ink wasn’t even dry on the marriage certificate, less than a year when she burned us.
But I was someone she chose to confide in since she thought I was too stupid to see through her after all the crap she put us through. So I gathered evidence, all the unfaithfulness, the videos of her doing stuff at parties, texts with various guys, the drinking binges, and her crap talking her loving army man. I gathered all of this information for more than a year, I felt horrible for the guy but I needed a file that would darn her to legal heck.
D-day arrived when about a year and a half after I met her she told me that she thought her man was unfaithful too as when he was deployed she found a video on his phone of him and his buddy dancing on some girls in a club. Sam was livid, she was cursing and swearing she would take him for every cent in court for being unfaithful to her.
Never mind that she was seeing guys for fun every other weekend.
I asked her if she had proof, and she said that proof doesn’t matter, they always believe the hurt wife.
I complied with all my evidence and wrote a very long apology letter for waiting this long, and sent it anonymously. Sam didn’t return to school the next year and I kinda lost track of her.
I got reminded when my fiancé showed me that terrible video we did for her, I confessed what I did and we social media stalked her accounts.
She now posts a lot of “single and loving it” memes and she has a few vlogs talking about fake friends and how simple living is the best. I guess that’s a consequence of losing her luxurious “rich girl” lifestyle that her husband’s family provided for her. Looking at her ex-husband’s page he has a beautiful wife and a baby on the way, looking way happier than I’d ever see him.”