People Disclose Their Pride-Worthy Revenge Stories
20. Traumatized My Roommates Into Cleaning Up
“So I live with two roommates (28m & 21f) who are less than helpful when it comes to cleaning the house.
Wet clothes are left in the washer for days on end, food is left rotting in the fridge and the sink for several weeks if I do not clean it, they also just casually throw garbage into the yard. I asked nicely multiple times for them to clean their mess and even not so nice a few times.
All this filth (since I refused to clean it anymore) has brought some new roommates for us, mainly giant rats! Which seem to have moved into our yard.
The kicker is, they are both ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED of rats.
A plan soon hatched in my mind and with a bit of creativity, some invisible thread, and an old bristle broom, I now had a ‘faux rat’ (I named him Ronald).
Every few days or so for the past 2 weeks-ish I have been placing it in the corner of the kitchen, waiting for one of them to walk in. And then I yank it as hard as I can at an angle so it shoots towards them. Each time they’ve ran from the kitchen screaming in fear. I won’t lie I have very much enjoyed doing it but kinda felt guilty at having made a grown man bawl his eyes out.
So I decided we had to have a house meeting about the infestation and how they don’t feel safe in the home anymore (personally I didn’t feel safe with a pan of veggie rice rotting on the countertop for 12 days but hey ho!)
I simply stated that if they just cleaned up their junk the rats would disappear.
Lo and behold the place was spotless within an hour and since then there has been a lot less mess.
Ronald has been put into retirement and is resting in my bedroom ready to pounce if ever needed again.
But did I take it too far?”
19. My Little Piece Of Revenge Cost My Company $10,000
“The year was 2020. So I have worked for my grocery store for over 6 years. And in that time I have not been promoted. I work part-time and I do more than my coworkers for the same pay (minimum wage). My store went into a remodel and throughout the chaos I rose out as the only survivor of my department to have maintained, cleaned up, and installed all new protocols into my section.
I was the first and the only one to get it right without the help of my managers. I was in fact better than my managers at my section. So, later on, I got a call from the head boss’s office. I thought ‘yes this is my big break! I can finally be promoted!’ To make it short, I was told good job, now you are being removed from your section and being placed in another.
I asked why and they told me that they planned to put a slower person in my section since it was already operational and I would go to his section to fix it and make it work. We then steered at each other.
He said, ‘that is all.’
So I ask, ‘ok, do I at least get a promotion??? Or a raise?’
He was offended and I was offended so we argued for 20 min.
I did not get the raise and I was ORDERED to do the additional work. So naturally, I began to apply for a different job. Oh, but it only gets better. You see as the managers were moving me away they were in charge of the food orders. Before my manager could start I took back what was mine. This was my small piece of revenge.
I took my ‘notes and scan pads’ that I created to make food inventory easier. I destroyed them and threw them away in our store’s compactor. So then my manager had to order the food the old way. Walking up to each item one by one.
But there’s a new process. See to order food now, you scan an item, and then you put the number. For example, if I see 10 on the shelf I punch in 10 on the computer.
The shelf fits 15 so it will order 1 case of 10. To fill the floor and the rest are back stock. Simple. (This is the new system). But as the manager was scanning the items he was placing zero on all the items he scanned. He believed that punching in zero would not order anything, as he believed he was requesting zero. (The way the old system worked).
He asked me if he was doing it right. I responded with, ‘well you’re the manager, you tell me.’ I got sent home early to work on my insubordination. When I returned 2 days later, (I called out the next day) a record of 20 pallets of food showed up. Our store can only hold 12pallets max. I was OVERJOYED.
Over the following week, manpower (hours) were wasted trying to make the food fit on the sales floor, food was thrown away due to out of temp exposure, and trucks of food were sent back causing the store multiple buyback charges and fees. Totaling over a 10,000 dollar loss. I know this because I was blamed for this and fired for it, as my name was still on the department. (No I can’t sue them I tried) either way, I had a new job in a week. And I heard my manager has been fired for not being able to manage their locations. Oh well.”
18. Disrespectful Lecturer Gets Bitten By Karma
“I suffer from depression. From what we can work out, I have actually suffered from it since I was about 5 or 6 years old, with no idea what triggered it. As a result, all through my life, I have tried to make sure others are happy, even if it comes at the expense of my own happiness. If I know someone in the same situation, I will go out of my way to help, to try to provide relief, to try to make things better to some degree.
This is a story about how the actions of one lecturer at university, almost destroyed a person’s will to succeed, but a small matter of pro revenge turned things around.
So my friend Sonia and I were in a marketing-related class together at university. She wasn’t doing marketing but chose this particular subject as an elective. Our whole class had about 35 students. We met once a week for a two-hour lecture, and again later in the week for a one-hour tutorial, where the class would be separated into two separate tutorial classes.
Mr. Vital was our lecturer, and it seemed as though he had a thing against certain students right from the start of the class. For me, when I only got a pass mark in one assignment, he said to me in front of the class ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be at university, coming from the country.’ To another person, who had a physical handicap with one arm, he said ‘How can you expect to have a marketing career if you don’t have two hands to hold a piece of paper.’ There were other instances like that, but the worst was when he commented on a presentation of Sonia’s.
One of the tasks we had to do was to design a radio ad. Because I had selected a radio broadcasting subject for one of my electives, I had access to the university’s radio studios and was the only person doing this marketing course who had unlimited access. Everyone else had to book in to use one of the studios, and you only got a one-hour block once to do your recording.
Because I got along with Sonia (we had some mutual friends at the university), and I was the only person she kind of knew doing this marketing subject, I let her tag along with me to the radio studios one weekend, so she could record her radio ad. We spent probably two and a half hours perfecting it. Sonia had recorded a very powerful 30-second radio ad, about mental health awareness.
Quite frankly, it blew mine out the window (mine was advertising a new fictitious product for a Scottish restaurant with a big yellow letter). Since mental health was obviously close to my heart, I wanted to make sure that Sonia’s ad was the best it could be.
It came time to play the ads in the weekly lecture, so everyone could hear everyone else’s ad and ask questions afterward.
When it came to mine, people got a good laugh from the food concept. When it came to Sonia’s, I kid you not, everyone stood and clapped, and I reckon there were even several people who had tears… it was that moving. We finished listening to the ads, the lecturer writing down notes after each ad and then saying he will give out the grades next week.
Come the following weeks, and the grades are given out during the lecture, as well as comments on each person’s ad. I got a comment that the ad was a bit stunted, but it was an interesting food concept, and still got a B+. When it came to Sonia, the lecturer only gave her a D-. Everyone in the class was shocked. Sonia was nearly in tears.
The lecturer then went to his comments. Said that the ad was not believable. Anybody who suffers from depression is just weak and sad and just needs to grow up. There was no point in the ad if people don’t understand the message, and this ad had no legitimate message to it. Then he said that the world would not need an ad like this. No radio station in the world would ever play it.
Sonia ran out of the room crying. The class was silent, and the lecturer was even looking red in the face after that outburst. I walked out of the room and tried to find Sonia. I saw her in a corner, curled up, crying, I calmed her down, walked her home, and then started working out how I could get revenge on Mr. Vital.
Back then, there was no social media.
There was no posting things every five seconds on YouTube. And most mobile phones at the time did not even take photos, let alone videos. So without a physical recording, it was going to be our word against his. So I started asking around some of our other classmates. Some were willing to help and were ready to sign sworn statements of what he said. Others were sympathetic but wanted to stay out of it.
So I started researching how to complain about a lecturer for unfair treatment. Most of the university’s policy surrounding complaints specifically mentioned written assignments… they had not factored in assessments that were not in writing. I had a flatmate who was a third-year law student, who went over the university’s policy for me and said without physical proof, even with witnesses, the policy is slanted towards the lecturers and not the students.
So I had to start looking at other ways, outside of the university’s policy, to gain revenge.
Unbeknownst to me, one of the guys in the class had actually recorded what Mr. Vital had been saying (the student had a hearing problem, so would often record lectures onto a tape to make sure he didn’t miss anything). I ran into him during another class and mentioned the predicament.
He mentioned that he had finished with his recording of the lecture, so I was free to have it if I wanted it. So I got it off him and listened to it. The recording was literally a goldmine. But I couldn’t work out what to do with it, to maximum effect. Then I had an idea.
I had a meeting scheduled with another lecturer, with who I got along great.
My life and his life shared a lot of similarities, such as our backgrounds, and even our father’s occupations. We would often chat about non-course subjects outside of class. This meeting was about a pamphlet I was designing and wanted some advice on graphics for it. I thought, as a longshot, to take the recording, as well as Sonia’s ad, with me. So I sat down and discussed what I needed to do with him.
I then casually asked him about his thoughts on Mr. Vital. The lecturer told me not to repeat it to anyone, but Mr. Vital has visions of grandeur. Mr. Vital knows that the Dean of the Faculty is looking at retiring in the next year or two, and he heard through the grapevine that Mr. Vital is jockeying for the Dean’s job. The lecturer told me that almost the entire faculty hates Mr.
Vital. So I mentioned Sonia’s problem to the lecturer. I mentioned to the lecturer how the university’s policy is a grey area when the assignment is not a written one, so the lecturer said he will take a listen to it. I played him Sonia’s ad, then Mr. Vitals comments. The lecturer was absolutely shocked. He said that was a broadcast-quality radio ad, and could not fault it.
Said the ad had a great message to it. The lecturer said to wait in his office, as he was going to see if the Dean of the business faculty was free. He said that this is something that the Dean may be interested in hearing, although again not much could be done because of the university policy.
The Dean was free, so we walked into the Dean’s office (it was just down the hall).
The same thing from the Dean… a great ad, does not know what Mr. Vital was thinking. The Dean asked me to come by his office, with Sonia, the following day at midday. The lecturer was asked to come along as well. No mention of Mr. Vital at this stage. We had no idea why the Dean wanted us there, including Sonia.
Sonia and I meet up with the lecturer, and we get to the Dean’s office.
Already sitting in the Dean’s office is the Vice-Chancellor of the university and another person who we did not recognize. We went through the same thing with the Vice-Chancellor… playing the ad, then Mr. Vital’s comments. The Vice-Chancellor also said that the ad was well produced, strong message, etc. Then the unknown person in the room spoke. He introduced himself as the head of programming for the main local commercial radio station.
He wanted to know whether he could pay Sonia for the ad, by making only a minor edit (the use of copyright music). Sonia had a huge smile on her face and then said that they could have it for free. Side note, the radio station played it for the next two years.
As for Mr. Vital? The following week, there was someone else doing the lectures and the tutorials.
We were told that Mr. Vital was not going to be teaching the class for the rest of the semester. I later found out that Mr. Vital’s tenure was coming to an end at the university at the end of the semester, and the university had been considering whether to extend it… obviously, if he was being considered as a replacement for the Dean, they definitely would be extending his tenure.
After his comments, the Vice-Chancellor elected not to but chose until the last minute to say anything to Mr. Vital. As a result, the best Mr. Vital could achieve for a job the following year was working for one of those private tutorial services, earning a lot less than he would have as a university lecturer. The lecturer, I had a drink with a few weeks ago. As this happened 20 odd years ago, the lecturer has since retired, but I do meet up with him from time to time.
And in case anyone wants to know, last I heard Sonia now lives in the US, is married, has three kids, and works for a mental health organization.”
17. Try To Flunk Me Out While I'm Grieving? Kiss Your Career Bye-bye
“It was 2012 and I was in the height of my college enjoyment. I was living with my grandparents after a bad car accident that knocked some sense into my crazy life, and I was working hard to make my family proud and gain some traction under my feet. Having always gravitated toward art, I chose this as my major and pursued it with flying colors.
I was consecutively making the dean’s list, staying home instead of going out and soaking up every bit of knowledge I could to protect and ensure the success of my future. I was even taking summer classes to graduate early, knowing the sooner I could get out of school, the faster I could start my budding career. It was all peachy keen until a new teacher was hired in the art department, we will call him Mr.
Thin, as he was a tall, thin, sort of gangly type with thick-rimmed glasses. All good right? Excited to meet someone new who could teach me new things.
Except Mr. Thin was not exactly the friendly type. In fact, I couldn’t understand why he had gotten into teaching as I had tried to warm up to him a couple of times and got nothing but frozen shoulders.
No one could get close to him. He made awful jokes in the classroom, and it was clear he had some serious insecurities. His inability to cope with his own issues came out in weird ways, lashing out at students not doing what they were supposed to, him making fun of and examples out of students not properly following instructions he had given with poor verbal direction, and ultimately making everyone feel sort of uncomfortable in his presence.
We all did the best that we could to try and cope with it when going to class with him, and stayed focused on the ultimate goal; learning new techniques, and getting a passing grade.
I had already had a Printmaking class with this teacher and knew what he was like. By this time my grandmother’s illness was getting progressively worse, fast. (It didn’t help she was misdiagnosed and given the wrong treatment.
And she was the pinnacle that kept our large family together – thanksgiving always at her house, every year, traditionally being the binding factor that kept us all connected and grounded.) She, unfortunately, was in and out of the hospital, chemo, and nothing seemed to be going right. I remember the silence coming over her slightly as she accepted her fate.
As such, I missed a few days of school here and there to help my grandfather take care of her and make sure she was okay during his time working at the office (he hasn’t retired, and I’m not sure he will).
I did my best, and most of my teachers were lenient knowing full well the scope of my situation. I had even written a letter to Mr. Thin expressing our family’s woes and my commitment to continue my learning track though I was not physically present.
Unfortunately, as I was scheduled to take a graphic design class as part of my required classes, I was grouped with Mr.
Thin again as the teacher, something I wasn’t exactly looking forward to as I got no response from my letter. But I would do my best trying to focus on my education while my grandmother was slowly dying. Again, he made extremely uncomfortable jokes and made kids feel unable to do as he had commanded. Never directly saying it, but always implying that everyone was an idiot and that he held all the knowledge – that we should all be praising him for this great opportunity bestowed upon us to learn from him.
It was grueling. Reminding him of my family situation yet again, he pressed me about my absences in class and threatened to flunk me, giving no leeway or helpful solutions whatsoever.
Eventually, I had moved out and down the street from my grandparent’s place, and one Tuesday I went to go visit them and check in on my grandpa. As I pulled up to the house, I remember walking up the front curb seeing gurney tracks in the snow, and the house was empty.
I knew this was bad – eventually I found my grandpa at the hospital and immediately joined him as he gave me the run down, we made way to her room, and family slowly joined us, day by day. I called the school to let them know what was happening, and advisors stated they understood and told me to make sure to inform my teachers so they were prepared to help.
Everyone was cool with the circumstances except – you guessed it, Mr. Thin. Unbelievably, I wrote him again to let him know the scoop, and he flat out told me I was lying, and that he expected to see me in class the next day. Mind you I had just got done sitting with the doctor and a priest, being informed these were the last moments.
I lost it. I called the school back, annoyed that I was spending this time defending myself and my family during this sensitive time, that I even had to go through this, and having these minutes taken from me as I said my final goodbyes with my grandma. Trying to keep a collected head and be reasonable with outside personnel. They took note of this and let me know they would follow up, allowing me to focus on my family.
She passed away. I grieved, I went back to school in silence. My grades took a slight dip, I stopped making the dean’s list, but made sure to pass my classes as it was still important to me even though it was all so untimely. I stopped speaking with Mr. Thin until I finally confronted him about his attitude and my situation. He defended himself by saying that (sadly) college kids apparently ‘use the dying grandma excuse all the time to get out of class.’ Saying this, mind you, without even getting to me or my situation – without asking a single question about my living situation, what hospital she was in, nothing.
Just assumed I was another lying college kid trying to get out of class. I filed a complaint and presented the death certificate and my previous USPS confirmed address (at my grandparents) with the school, stating the teacher had no right to treat me like this. I knew my case was weak, I was missing school, but I wasn’t messed up. I felt I had to do my part and say something, even if it meant I would have to go back the next year knowing he still had an office in the art building, where I spent most of my time.
Fast forward to the summer before my Junior/Senior year (remember I was doing summer classes, so was only in school for 3 years). I was out to dinner with my then-significant other and two of his good-looking guy friends. We had a nice time cracking jokes while watching the sunset over the river canyon. I lamented that this was my last summer before my schooling started for the last year, but after some time had passed, was ready to make a better effort in order to make my grandma proud from the heavens above.
We get up to leave and start walking out after paying the bill. And as we start walking through the restaurant, lo and behold I see Mr. Thin mopping the floor straight ahead in my walking path. He watches the three gentlemen in front of my head toward the exit, then locks eyes with me as I followed. I kid you not it was like a slow-motion caption, and without even realizing it, by pure habit, I just happened to slow-motion wave as I walked by, watching as he froze with the mop in his hand. Turns out his contract was not renewed for another year, and I retook my graphic design class with another teacher and passed with flying colors, graduating with a bachelor’s in arts, and going on to work for a major tech company in Data Analytics likely making more than him.”
16. Kick Me Out To Live With Your Man? I'll Take All My Stuff
“My best friend of 5 years and I were 18 years old and decided to go live on our own and rent an apartment together. The apartment was small and cheap but in a great location. We only had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. Decided to not split costs for furniture so that when either one of us moves out they can just take the stuff they paid for.
Like, she bought the dining table and chairs, I bought the microwave.
Over time smaller things like a bookshelf and some door handles (the landlord was very flexible with stuff like this) and other knick-knacks we paid 50/50 for. I also decided to put another floor in my room as did she.
Cue 6 months later and our relationship deteriorated. She was blowing off hanging with (mutual) friends just to be with her significant other and kept buying him stuff.
He was a total jerk, the type to believe that women should do all the household chores. I often found him in the shared kitchen in his underwear. But she was head over heels and had only eyes for him. He still lived with his parents so he was keen to move out and wanted to live with her. The apartment would have definitely been too small for the 3 of us (and I wouldn’t want to be the 3rd wheel anyway).
We weren’t talking much at one point and I didn’t think too much about it. Think it would just blow over and the relationship would end.
After 8 months she told me she wanted to live together with her significant other and she wanted to give me time to find a new place. I wasn’t surprised as they have grown even closer together and I wasn’t feeling comfortable anymore in the apartment anyway.
Also, the landlord that lived in the same building was becoming very hostile and racist towards me (I’m white but come from an immigrant background). I had a look at some rooms to rent but no luck, it was either too expensive or I didn’t like the location so was thinking about going back to my parents.
One month after she told me she wanted to give me time she sent me a text she was done with me (don’t know what set it off) and I needed to be moved out this weekend (it was Friday).
I told her my rent was paid off till the end of the month so no, to which she transferred the fund for my rent and told me to move out.
I called my family to help me move to my parents, luckily I didn’t own much stuff. My mom was so angry she brought spray cans to spray on the walls which I talked her out of.
But we did decide to take everything I paid for. I took the flooring I put in with me, the linoleum was easily cut out and we left the scraps that we were unable to get out.
Remember the door handles and bookshelf that I paid half for? My dad sawed the bookshelf in half and we put half of it in the trash. We disassembled all the door handles I paid for and took the same halves of the handles so that they wouldn’t work anymore, she had like 3-4 door handles which were incomplete.
I forgot (no lie) to give the keys to the landlord when I moved out. She called me really angry telling me I have to give them back or she would put new locks in. Remembering she was a racist jerk I told her to put new locks in then.
In the end, I never heard from the roommate again. Her significant other moved in with her and the landlord started terrorizing her. She eventually moved and I heard her relationship ended after about a year.”
15. Steal An iPhone? Lose Your Job And Get Arrested
“I was working at a boba shop to pay through college and had some regulars. One was a guy, we’ll call Jim, who was visiting after he joined the military. Jim went to the sub shop next door while he waited for me to make his usual, after he came back and we caught up he realized his iPhone was missing. He went back to the sub shop and the cashier said he hasn’t seen it.
He checked his car and the bathrooms and it was nowhere to be found. He borrowed someone else’s phone to check the phone’s location but it was turned off. Now he knew someone took it because he didn’t have his phone off.
He called the police to file a report. The boba shop was close to the station so they came over within minutes. I was also friends with the manager of the sub shop next door and called him to look out for an iPhone and if someone took it in the shop.
The manager came in not too long after while the police were taking Jim’s statement and retraced his steps. The manager found the phone in the chip rack in the sub shop. The chip rack was located in the middle of the store where customers can grab some before they pay.
Everyone was confused because Jim didn’t buy chips. The manager then proceeded to look at the security footage and saw that Jim accidentally left his phone at the cashier counter after paying.
The cashier then proceeded to go through the phone and turned it off before pocketing it. We were thinking he was trying to sell it. It was the latest model at the time and cost roughly a grand. It was so satisfying to see him on the footage freaking out when the cops showed up and him running around trying to find out what to do with the phone. Jim got his phone back, cashier guy was fired on the spot and arrested for grand theft. I don’t know if Jim ever pressed charges because he had to report back to his command shortly after this happened but it was definitely an interesting workday.”
14. You Should Have Believed My Teammates That I Go Catastrophic
“I was at U.S. Army Mountain Warfare School (AMWS). The school was great. Something that enhanced the experience was the fact that the majority of my Team were placed in the same Platoon (40 Humanoids), and in the same Squad (10 Humanoids). It was not entirely organic though, but the other humanoids in our group were Special Forces (SF/Green Beret) or Combat Controllers (CCT)/Joint Terminal Attack Controller (JTAC).
We were all products of the Special Operations Forces (SOF) community.
I had just come off the mountain and was the last one of my Squad to complete a testing event. Upon returning I see that the entire Squad was rolling around hysterically laughing. One of my Teammates had told the entire group of people one of my many tales of debauchery. I am a storyteller though.
Despite hearing the tale, the group of men, that did not work in my organization, wanted to hear it again. This time from the ‘horse’s mouth’.
Paul (CCT/JTAC): Dude. You have to tell the story about, Enjoy Your Free Mail.
I figure, why not? We had at least a 45-minute march back to the barracks and it would provide enough time for me to repeat the saga.
I repeat the story during our road march back, and everyone had tears in their eyes by the time we returned to the barracks.
Time goes on. Stories were told. We eventually graduate. All the SOF guys exchange phone numbers and emails and mostly go our separate ways.
Two weeks pass.
I started getting random text messages and phone calls, from all over the United States. I shrug them off as spam at first, but some of the text messages are specific.
Texts such as:
Texter 1: How low are you willing to go?
Texter 2: I will give you $200.
Texter 3: Do I have to buy everything or are you willing to sell individual items?
It started slow. Then it increased. We are not allowed to have Portable Electronic Devices (PEDs) in our building due to security reasons. No Phones. No Smart Watches. Thus, my personal and government cell stayed in my car.
There were days I returned to work to find hundreds of text messages and missed phone calls. It was absurd. It wasn’t spammed anymore. Someone was messing with me.
Eventually, I get a call that annoyed me.
Angry Guy: I will give you $300 and I want you to overnight it.
Angry Guy: I am saying I am willing to buy your thing. $300 is reasonable. I want it sent overnight.
Do we have a deal or not?
OP: (I don’t even know what he is talking about, but $300 seems low. I think?) That’s too low man. I was thinking $500 (Sounds reasonable).
Angry Guy: Darn you, man. $300, take it or leave it.
OP: I am leaving it, man
Angry Guy: Screw you. (CLICK)
He then told me how much of a jerk I was via text messages.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Caller: Hi. I am calling to inquire about your post. I think the price is super low and I am wondering what you really want for the gear?
OP (Fake sniffle/cry): I am sorry man. My wife and kids were in a horrible car accident and I am on the way to the hospital. (Fake heavy crying) I don’t even know if they are going to make it (Inaudible cry/scream noises).
Caller: I am so very sorry. Man. I am sorry. I pray that everyone is okay. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
The phone call ends and I think nothing of it. I will now refer to the caller as Mike, mostly because that is his name.
Mike via text: Hey OP. We spoke yesterday and I have been worried about you and your family.
I simply want to check and see if everyone is okay. I am sure you have family and friends, but please feel free to reach out if you need anything like someone to talk to.
OP Brain: Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Ring, Ring, Ring!
OP: Hi. This is OP. We spoke yesterday.
Mike: My God. How is your family doing?
OP: So about that. I am sorry, but I lied about my family being in a horribly disfiguring accident.
Mike: (Confused voice) Why would you lie about that? I don’t get it…
OP: Look, man. I am seriously sorry. Somebody is messing with me though. I have been getting phone calls and text messages non-stop for the last two weeks. Everyone is throwing numbers and asking about ‘gear’ and I don’t know what in the world they are talking about. I thought you were another person messing with me, so I thought I would mess with you.
Mike: Wait. So you don’t even know what I was referring to?
OP: NO. What is it?
Mike: Your Craigslist post.
Mike: Ah… your Craigslist post.
OP: Can you do me a favor Mike? Send me a link to ‘my post’.
(Mike sends link)
I open the link. I see a picture that was clearly taken inside the barracks from AMWS. It was a large open bay we used to dry ropes and tactical equipment.
The Craigslist ad was a picture of all my equipment. Crye Precision Jumpable Plate Carrier (JPC), Mystery Ranch Terraplane and 3-Day Assault Pack, Salewa boots, OpsCore Helmet, and the list goes on. The Infrared (IR) beacon on my helmet was worth $200 alone. The helmet was worth nearly two-grand. All said the equipment was worth thousands of dollars and I have a jerk caller telling me $300 bucks and wanted me to overnight it? Did these people think it was MILSIM/Airsoft thing?
I know Mike is a genuine human.
The only person to legitimately inquire about my equipment, and showed real concern for my family and myself in the horribly disfiguring fake car crash. I call Mike back.
Ring, Ring, Ring.
OP: Yeah. Someone is messing with me man. That picture was taken at Mountain Warfare after we got played on during repelling. The equipment was set out to dry.
Mike: (Laughing). Yeah. I thought the post (Craigslist) was odd, but I thought some idiot was looking to offload things and didn’t have clue about how much to ask.
What are you going to do?
OP: Revenge. Plain and simple. I am going to figure it out and then deal with them.
Mike: Let me know how it goes.
OP: Sure thing.
I knew who did it. I knew everyone in my Troop. I knew the people that would never do it. I narrowed it down to two people. My flawed logic led me to believe excluding the people that wouldn’t do it would leave me only with the people that did, two of my best friends.
Guys who were likely to do it for jokes. It was them. Had to be.
I immediately went to Poop Senders (website) and sent them the gallon-sized ‘COMBO PACK’. Cow, elephant, and gorilla poop alone were not good enough for me. They were going to get it all. Sent to their house anonymously. I also went ahead and signed them up for a 24-hour subscription of Cat/Sloth facts.
Every hour, on the hour, they would receive a delightful fact about a cat/sloth with a wonderful picture. EVERY HOUR for 24-HOURS.
I return to work and Jake and Jimmy are talking among themselves. Jake is ANGRY. He didn’t sleep well last night. I walk over while overhearing their conversation.
Jake: I keep getting texts about goshdarn sloths. Every hour.
Jimmy: I get them about cats. I just texted STOP though.
Jake: That worked?
Jimmy: Yeah. But also got a box of poop. Like a huge box of poop.
(Jake hadn’t received his chocolate package of animal dump yet.)
Jimmy: Yeah. Big ole box of poop.
Jake: Who? Someone is messing with us?
OP: Serves you idiots right! I think we are even now!
(Jake and Jimmy both look at me. Perplexed)
Jake: For what?
OP: That Craigslist ad. You idiots. I was getting calls and texts all day, every day.
Jake: (Sincere as ever. I could see the honesty in his eyes) Wasn’t us dude. We know not to mess with you. This basically reaffirms that.
OP: (Sincere as ever) DARN. I thought it was you guys.
I go on to explain the events that had transpired. In great detail. I show them the website. I then swallow my pride and spend way too much on dinner and drinks on an apology meal.
I need to show them that I am sorry, but more importantly, that I don’t want to be retaliated on.
So what are we to do? Well, I work at a very special place with very special people. People that may not do my job, but people who excel in other things, like communications. Some are radio/satellite people, but one of them is a computer guru. I kindly explain my situation to one of them.
His reply was simple, ‘give me the webpage.’
It took this man about twenty minutes to get me an email address and phone number. I didn’t recognize the email. Emailing the account would probably do nothing for me. Maybe I could text the number? That wouldn’t illuminate who it was though. Maybe I should call? Maybe I will recognize the voice.
I waited until work was over. I took the information out to the car and grabbed my phone.
I was going to call this idiot. I open the phone, go to the phone icon, then to the keypad. Number, Number, Number… and boom it’s an area code associated with ONE of my contacts. ONE. Turns out the other numbers matched exactly. It was Paul. The SOF Air Force CCT/JTAC. Why would Paul do that?
This is the only thing we (Jake/Jimmy) could come up with.
I told Paul a story of revenge. Maybe Paul thought we were friends now. I have a very specific definition of ‘friend’.
Game on, Paul.
I log into this Craigslist thingy. I am savvy with firearms. I know the science and math regarding ballistics and trajectory. I am capable of things that go boom. Computers? I am getting there. Craigslist wasn’t complicated. I figured it out.
I created an account.
I now have a useless email. Now to search Craigslist. Oh, Male seeking Male. That sounds like Paul. I make an epic page for Paul. I went on the web and managed to find some pictures of Paul. I also happened to have some pictures from Mountain Warfare with/Paul. Great. I happen to have Paul’s home address, and email accounts thanks to the internet. The gem? I have Paul’s phone number.
Craigslist wouldn’t let me input it numerically. The cogs in my head managed to spin fast enough, what about alphanumeric? Success. 8Six7Five3Oh9.
My computer friend even assisted in the endeavor. He managed to route all the emails to Paul through an email address that we could check. After about a minute on Craigslist, we decided it’s best to not have this information go through a phone.
This will be brief, but the page went a little something like this:
Male Seeking Male: 8Six7Five3Oh9
Name: ‘Cool guy pictures’
Description: My name is Paul.
I am a Special Operations, words, words, words. I spend my nine-to-five defending America from all aggressors and terrorists. I spend my days leading and bossing other men around. When I get home I want a man who can take charge and boss me around. I want to be told what to do and how to do it. Feel free to call, text, email, or just stop by ADDRESS.
It was longer, but you get the point.
I go to bed.
The phone has LOTS of text messages. I mean LOTS. I get a lot of calls. Both phones are always on vibrate, because of this. We don’t all work in the same timezone, thus vibrate is the way to go. I check to see who they are from. It’s Paul. I don’t want to feel guilty or let off the gas so I don’t read them.
I simply delete them all. I go to work and leave the phones in the car due to the PED policy. Jake and Jimmy are excited.
Jake/Jimmy: Let’s check the email.
(Look for generic email and password. Enter)
Collectively: OH MY GOD.
The emails were plenty. Turns out Paul is National Guard (NG). Par-time guy. Paul actually lived outside NYC. Turns out there were a lot of people interested in Paul, and willing to travel.
Some of the emails were funny. Numerous men discussed in great detail what they were going to do to Paul. Some even provided pictures. It was like passing an accident while doing 60 MPH. You know you shouldn’t look, but we did. My god.
The gents and I decided dinner that night would be appropriate. We knew Paul would call. I mean, he had to if he wanted it to stop.
Tuesday Night (Random Steakhouse outside DC)
We are seated and the texts are coming and coming. ‘Please Call Me.’ ‘Sorry.’ There were hundreds of messages echoing the same thoughts. I wasn’t reaching out though. Screw that. I did though. I don’t eat cold steaks.
OP (Text): Long time no see. What’s up, man? You can call me if you want.
RING. RING. RING.
Paul: Dude. Make it stop.
Paul: The guys.
Everything. I’m sorry man. I will never mess with you again.
OP: Why would you do that?
Paul: Your story of revenge. I thought it was funny, and I wanted to mess with you to see what you would do. I didn’t even think you would figure it out.
SIDE NOTE: Paul also lied at school. Not a biggie. I don’t care, but Paul said he was single. Turns out Paul was married and had a kid.
I know I am an idiot, but I would have never used his address if I had known. So… it’s Paul’s fault, I think!?!
Paul: Dude. I am at the hospital right now. I had a fishing accident. My wife is calling me and saying that ‘men’ are showing up at the house asking for me. She keeps turning them away but is wondering why.
(I go to Craigslist and delete the address)
OP: I have deleted your address from the page.
It probably won’t help for another day or two. Sorry (Not Sorry. Maybe a little sorry, but more not sorry.)
Paul: What? There is a page? Dude, you have to delete the page. Do you know how many texts I have gotten?
OP: No. But I assume they are colorful like the email.
Paul: You know about the emails? Yes! Exactly like the emails.
OP: Yes. I know about the emails, Paul.
Paul, you created a Craigslist ad for me. Paul, you thought I wouldn’t find out. You took revenge on me for the sake of it. Why?
Paul: I just thought it would be funny, man. Please make it stop.
OP: How long do you think my page was up?
Paul: A week or so!?!
OP: Okay Paul I will take it down. In a week or so. I will delete the page on Sunday.
That sounds about fair to me.
Paul: No. Dude. Take it down now. Please.
OP: Paul. These are your options as I see them. I leave it as is until Sunday or I re-post your address and invite all willing participants. Your call Paul.
Paul: No address? When on Sunday?
OP: No Address. Midnight, very first thing. Before the bars let out!
Paul: I am never messing with you again man.
OP: Steaks are here Paul. Maybe I will see you on a deployment (I did). Have a nice one, Paul. Read your emails brother.
I sincerely avoid revenge at all costs. Mostly because I have little self-control when it comes to revenge. I may have gone a little far. Paul knew better. Paul understood he was playing with fire when he started this thing. Well, Paul. Checkmate. I win. If you do however become a single man again, I know there are a ton of guys interested. Screw you, I win, Paul.”
13. Read My Messages? I'll Mess With Your Personal Life
“I use Hangouts for messaging, just because that’s what my friends use and I ain’t super picky about platforms. No, dad doesn’t know my password, but he got in somehow. Parents are divorced. I’m sixteen, and my dad and I have never gotten along. He’s one of those people who thinks that just because he is my parent, I have no right to privacy, and constantly tries to find things out when I tell him to let it drop.
Several times he has tried to get me to let him read my messages, and I always tell him no. I’ve never given him any reason to believe I’m doing anything wrong in my messages at any point.
So today I was scrolling through the internet while riding my bike (Yes, I know it’s dumb) and I wreck. I get back up, and I go check my messages.
(My priorities may be a bit screwed up…) At first, I don’t see anything wrong with it, then I notice that it has marked read on some stuff I definitely did not read. I thought it was some sort of glitch, which seems to be fairly common with Hangouts for me, so I paid it no mind. Later I’m talking with mother, and she mentions that dad said he could see everything that goes on on my phone, and I get suspicious.
Dad isn’t the type to say that if it wasn’t true.
A little later, I notice that dad’s Gmail account has been added to my phone when it definitely wasn’t before. This confirmed that he had been messing with my phone somehow, and though it didn’t necessarily mean he read my stuff, I would bet my life he did. What he wasn’t thinking of is that I know his password.
So I decided that I’ll mess with his life. Until today, I didn’t know he used Hangouts until I did, but apparently, he has been talking to some women, which fortunately he doesn’t know in real life, on there. Surprised he uses that platform, but then again he uses a lot of different platforms, he’s kinda desperate. I go through all the women he’s talking to, and I just have ‘him” leave all of the conversations. This may seem just a little too far or petty to some, messing with a desperate man’s personal life, but this privacy thing is a huge deal to me, and he knows it is, so this seems completely justified.”
12. She's Only With Me Because Of My Fat Wallet
“18 years ago (2002) my older brother and I got our first jobs at ages 12 & 13, normally child labor laws would come in play but it was a volunteer gig for selling soda at a stadium so the laws weren’t valid.
I was 4 feet tall (short for my age) and carrying 16 cups of soda in a rack and a lot of people in the stadium were buying from me cause they thought I was cute being a big man for my age.
Selling at least 8 racks a game I was making at least $150 in tips and commission but my bro who worked with me had us combine and split our earnings so I was getting screwed until I said I didn’t want to anymore.
Fast forward 2 games and I was still bringing home $150+ and to me, I felt like I was an adult bringing home bank after only 3 hours of work.
I would walk to the little store in my town and buy pizza and sodas cause that was a king’s meal back then I thought lol. It was then I met my ex, Shelly, and we hooked up after walking together for a week and got to know each other and she kissed my cheek. I was love-struck, damn you cupid. We were together for a month, hung out, fished, biked, and did other things together, and back then cash was tight for my parents so they would borrow $ for gas which my brother and I were happy to do since we were making a lot.
However, I started seeing I was missing more and more and I asked my parents if they took any more and they didn’t. They blamed my brother and tried to punish him but I stopped them.
My Friend C-dog (nickname) was my only guy friend in the neighborhood cause we attended different schools. He told me Shelly was two-timing me and was probably the one who was stealing my hard-earned coin.
At first, I didn’t believe him but he had no reason to lie so I asked for proof; he took me to the top of the hill that overlooks the park, and with high powered binoculars I saw her there kissing another guy and eating food paid for with my money. To say I was upset would be accurate for a 12-year-old but this just proved she was two-timing me, not stealing, so the following Sunday after Thanksgiving I set a trap.
We had walked together and I asked her if there were guys at school she liked and she kissed my cheek again and said ‘you’re the only one I really like and who’s nice to me.’ Yeah, nice enough to let me steal from you I thought. We walked to my home just before it started to pour hard outside and watched some Gargoyles when she started to hold my hand.
I said I had to go to the bathroom and I set my wallet on my nightstand – all $260 in it that I made from the day before (fans were very thankful/generous).
I walked out and left the door open a crack, walked to the bathroom 5 steps away and closed the door, counted to 3 and tip-toed back, peeked through the crack, and saw Shelly going through my wallet grabbing the $50 and $20 bills I had.
I opened the door before she was about to pocket it and said Lord Raiden style ‘ah ah, I don’t think so ha ha ha.’ Then with an angry face, I took the bills from her, and while she tried to explain I walked her by hand to the front door, opened it, and pushed her gently out in the POURING RAIN. She asked me if she could at least call her parents since she lived over a mile away and I said ‘no you stole over $130 from me the last month we were together.
You can walk home,’ and slammed the door on her.
Some of her friends had heard about what I did and when asked I told them she was playing me and using me for my bank. They knew she had borrowed from them and had not paid them back but lately had done so obviously with my own $. They tried to give it back and I said I didn’t want to take it from them even if the money belongs to me. They need it more. Her friends didn’t talk to her again, her guy left her & my parents never found out till a month later but in the end, I won.”
11. The Kitchen Messes Up Again
“This happened several years ago, around 2017. I had left college the year before and already had a job in a small family-owned restaurant and was looking for a second job so that my roommate and I could save up to get our own apartment (we were living with her family at the time), and roomie was also searching for a job. She was having a harder time of it, due to multiple leg injuries as well as other health complications, but eventually, we found a restaurant that was getting ready to open, and it was on the same street as my current job.
I picked up two applications on my way into work one morning and turned in the filled applications the next day. On my day off, we went in for our interviews, and at the start, the manager said, ‘This is really just a formality, I’m going to hire you both anyway,’ and we both thought that was a good sign. The new restaurant was going to be a 24-hour diner, similar to Denny’s and Waffle House, (the lady who gave our interviews used to be a WH manager) but it was fifties-themed, and it was across the street from several bars.
As the interior of the restaurant was still under construction, no one outside of management and construction crew could be in the restaurant for the next few weeks, and the management told us that they would text us when it was time to start training. Yeah, make that about two months before we hear about any sort of training, already not a good sign.
Once training started, it became clear that these people had no clue what they all needed to do.
Do you know how a restaurant is on Kitchen Nightmares before Gordon Ramsey comes and does an overhaul? Yeah, pick one of the worst restaurants and you’re getting close to the nonsense this place pulled: Can’t take any breaks no matter how long your shift is, can’t be seen rehydrating in front of customers, and don’t get me started on what we found in some of the food.
One thing I also forgot to mention earlier: this was a two-story restaurant. Remember those multiple leg injuries that my roommate has that I mentioned earlier? She made sure that the management knew about it, and they said each time that they wouldn’t put her upstairs. That night of the soft opening, it was clear that they had lied, because they put her upstairs (meaning that she would have to go up and down the stairs to get the food for her tables multiple times a night with a bad leg), and when she asked to switch sections with another girl, the managers told her to ‘get over it.’ One of the other waitresses was the manager’s niece, and major favoritism was given to her.
This girl had no clue what she needed to do: she kept dropping everything, took forever to key orders in the computer system, and couldn’t even mix a basic vanilla milkshake. On the soft opening night, the niece and my roommate were in similar sections, and my roommate would often help out the niece with figuring out the system (slightly in the niece’s defense, this system was a pain and would repeatedly crash multiple times a day).
Well, guess who went to her auntie and said that my roommate had shoved her off of the computers and was ‘stealing’ her customers!
After the soft opening, the managers just seemed to be itching for a reason to fire me and my roommate, but they couldn’t because neither of us had any write-ups, and any bullying accusations that the niece tried to pin on us were quickly disproved by other waitresses.
And then the restaurant started opening for real. July 13, 2017, was when the pot boiled over. This was one of my days off, but roomie had to work that night. My aunt and uncle from Minnesota were in town that night, and my parents called me and offered to all go to dinner that night at the diner to help support my roommate. Well, the kitchen messes up again, and it’s so bad that my uncle asks to speak to the manager.
He was very open to my family about what his complaint was (the kitchen had royally messed up the Rueben sandwich that he had ordered), but the manager told roomie that my uncle’s complaint was about her service. I stayed behind since I was her ride, and fam left (she was in a section downstairs this time). About half an hour after fam leaves, I had a milkshake on hold and look around the restaurant and realize that I don’t see roomie.
I had seen her a little bit ago leaning against the wall and figured her leg was bothering her, but I don’t see her anymore, so I start looking for someone to ask them for that milkshake. Almost as soon as I realize this, I see her coming down the stairs. She doesn’t look towards me but instead goes behind the milkshake bar, and I hear her politely ask for one of the other waitresses to let her by so that she can get her backpack.
As soon as I heard that, my heart dropped. I knew exactly what had happened, why she had been upstairs: that’s where the office was.
I packed up when I saw her go into the restroom, and she came out in her street clothes (we had uniforms at this diner). I was ready to go, and one of the hosts comes over to us asking if we were okay.
She brushes by him and exits the building, and I simply tell him to cancel the milkshake and follow roomie out of the restaurant. He follows us asking if everything’s okay, and roomie turns around and exclaims ‘They fired me because I leaned against the wall for forty-five seconds!’ Oh, no. I ask her to wait for me and go back into the building. Fortunately for me, one of the managers is already downstairs, and I call to her to get her attention.
Thanks to theater, I know how to project my voice, and I make sure that the whole building can hear me when I tell her, ‘Because you fired my roommate over an injury that she made sure you were aware of, you can consider my employment terminated as well!’
Come to find out the whole story from roomie later: Managers had been creating false write-ups for her and false complaints (like my uncle’s) and all sorts of other things, like the fake bullying charges, to use as an excuse to get rid of her.
And now comes the part that you’ve been waiting for: the revenge.
See, roomie’s family knows some people who are pretty high up in the city/state, such as the city sheriff, and one of the senators of our state. So, one of her family members got her a meeting with said senator and she told him everything that this diner had done. He gave her the contact information to both the labor board, as well as a little company called OSHA, don’t know if you’ve heard of them.
While she got in contact with them, I started a hashtag on social media, spreading the story, and asking my friends to do the same. Whenever she and I were in town together and we’re having conversations with the locals, any time that the conversation turned to good restaurants in the area, we made sure to warn them about the treatment that they gave to their staff and asked them to spread their story.
It got to the point where roomie even overheard other people, even lawyers, talking about it on the streets and in the coffee shop that she stayed in while waiting for me to get off of work.
My boss at my primary job knew everything that was going on at this diner, having heard both me and roomie express our concerns and frustrations, and once we were no longer working there, she and the rest of her staff joined us in cracking jokes and throwing major shade at this diner (I still remember fondly to this day her saying that ‘The wasted ones are the only reason that place is staying open!’).
Even some of my co-workers were lurking for dirt on this diner, and on November 13, 2017 – literally four months to the day that they pulled that thing – the cook at my job asks me, ‘So, did you hear that the diner’s closed now?’ Wait, what? I had to pull out my phone and check. Sure enough, there it was in the local news: The diner was closing their doors, effective immediately. The excuse that they gave was a management change and that it was only temporary, but to this day, the space that the diner had occupied is still boarded up. Roomie and I went out for celebratory milkshakes that night. We didn’t expect that the whole place would be closed down, but we do not regret making those calls or social media posts.”
10. Butt-Kissing Doesn't Get You Everything
“I used to work at a large CPR facility where I honestly loved what I did, but a few people there, including the owner, made it unbearable to work there.
The owner had hired a 40 something-year-old guy he’d met in the grocery store parking lot as an AED salesman. No one liked him and everyone told the owner not to hire him. He ended up being one of the most arrogant, entitled, racist, and discriminatory men I’ve ever met.
He was the only ‘older’ guy in the office as most of us were in our 20’s. This guy kissed the owner’s butt like no other and somehow managed to get the title of ‘Director.’ Titles meant absolutely nothing at this place, but he let it get to his head, sticking his nose in things he had no business in. This caused a lot of problems considering he’d been working there less than a year, only knew about AED sales, and would try to medal in my work as Training Manager.
My job was high stress, required a lot of organization, and no one else knew how to do it properly other than my direct supervisor who didn’t have much time to help me out herself.
This ‘Director’ guy finally messed enough things up in not only my department, but others too, and got enough complaints that he got ‘demoted’ to ‘Director of Sales’ (DOS) only.
One day in a daily morning meeting, DOS sits down looking all stressed clearly wanting one of us to ask him what was wrong.
My supervisor reluctantly asks him and the following conversation goes like this:
DOS: I’m just so stressed out. I’m trying to get this Child Heartsaver class organized for this client, but I can’t get the CPR instructors to cover it. The class is in a week and I don’t have the contacts.
OP: Wait what?? I don’t have that class on my calendar.
DOS: Oh yah. I didn’t tell you.
OP: And why is this the first time I’m hearing about this??
DOS: Oh, well I was selling her an AED and I didn’t want to do her a disservice by having the DIRECTOR just transfer her to some other person in the office.
I was fuming at this point. Keep in mind I had an incredibly busy week and knew if this didn’t get resolved, I would be the one to get in trouble as this class fell in my wheelhouse.
OP in a very serious tone, in front of everyone: With all due respect, you are the Director of Sales. By not transferring her over to me, you WERE doing her a disservice.
I had never seen DOS so red in the face. None of us had ever put him in his place before. I knew he’d go and try to run to the owner and ‘tell on me’ and I was right.
I heard him sitting down in the owner’s office and heard whispers of my name from DOS very shortly before the owner started yelling at him.
There was only one thing the owner liked more than butt kissing. His company’s image and reputation. If that class didn’t go well, which it was going to be, this could mean a lost client and my boss wasn’t having it.
I soon saw DOS walking into his office like a scolded puppy and shortly after I got a raise for my hard work.”
9. Steal From Me? I'll Steal Your Dress
“So this happened in my 2nd year in college. I moved to a new dorm, old dorm had some construction issues with health hazards.
The first 2 months in my new dorm are great. My roommates are great they do their chores, and respect everyone’s privacy. For an introverted person that is a score for me because I don’t like any unnecessary confrontation.
All is well until my friend moved in, let’s call her Magna.
(we’re not that close but we belong in the same circle of friends). Magna is the opposite of us she’s very loud, doesn’t do her chores on time, and is always out very late at night. It causes us some disturbance because we should be inside at 11 pm, she returns at around 2 or 3 in the morning hitting the door demanding to let her in.
In general, she’s a good friend we’re cool except for these bad habits.
Until I noticed my allowance is quickly decreasing. At first, I thought I might’ve made some purchases that I have forgotten or I’m spending so much on food and unnecessary items. That’s why I budgeted and I quickly noticed that I’m not overspending but someone is stealing from me. I didn’t know who that’s why I decided to purchase a nanny cam to catch the burglar in the act.
2 weeks after installing my nanny cam lo and behold I see Magna snooping in my room like a rat. She reaches for my purse that is in my wardrobe and steals some bills, which upon checking was worth 10$. That might be a small amount for you guys but for a not so well off person such as myself it is already a big deal and who knows how long she’s been stealing from me.
This is where I hatched a plan. As I said I don’t like any confrontation so the solution that I see is to ‘steal’ from her (aka sell her clothes, things, whatever I can find that can suffice the amount that she stole). This went up for 8 months. She already stole about 200$ from me and I already sold about 3 blouses, 6 of her dresses, 4 pairs of pants, 4 pairs of shoes, some of her art mats (branded ones), and her ukelele (most of these are never worn or branded items).
Why didn’t she notice you might be asking, because she owns a lot of things and she is so disorganized. Her room is a complete mess.
The last straw was when I caught her trying on my clothes (underwear) nasty jerk. That’s when I called her and told her to get out and that I can see her in my room snooping. She ran and locked herself in her room.
I returned to my dorm and went to my room. Surprise, surprise Magna is nowhere to be found I wonder why. Later that day her mother came and told us Magna is moving out. My other roommates are asking what was the reason. Her mother doesn’t know, she said she came home crying asking to move out but not stating the reason.
A few months after that no sign of Magna until a party was held.
She confronted me saying ‘HOW DARE YOU SELL MY DRESS.’ I told her I don’t have any idea what she’s talking about. She told me I sold the dress that was given to her by her late grandmother. She’s accusing me as a klepto now and I told her between the two of us I am the one who has proof that she’s been stealing from me and if she wants to cause a scene and accuse me we will meet in court. She walked away and I haven’t seen her since.
Eye for an eye I guess.”
8. Never Hire Friends
“Helped get a friend I had known for a period of time hired where I work. They had some previous experience in roughly the same field and seemed competent.
Over the course of the five years they worked with me, they kept demanding better pay, etc trying to justify it by claiming because they were a year older than me, they were entitled to even or slightly better pay than me.
Whatever okay… figure it’s just them being stupid.
They put in their two weeks several times over their last two years working here trying to use it to leverage a raise… Over the course of the last couple of years, I take a promotion to head of the department and obviously have to take on more responsibility, etc.
I’m now this person’s direct manager and am forced to watch their work quality decline as they seem to think since I am their friend, they can get away with doing nothing or doing it poorly.
Unfortunately for me, I have some integrity and the jobs we do if done improperly can lead to catastrophic engine failure, loss of life, etc.
I spend the next four months having sit-downs with this person about their quality of work, their attitude towards others, and even toward myself after they become hostile toward me. They earn 5 major write-ups and the only reason they aren’t fired is that the company owner has been footing this person’s bad financial habits (kept borrowing from the facility when they crashed their cars…
yes several of these. Or they couldn’t afford their community college courses) and there was constant joking from them that if we ever fired them, they would just sue for harassment because they were trying to transition (this was common knowledge at the shop since they literally told everyone and it was the first thing they talked about every day.)
Skip ahead another few months and they finally give another 2 weeks’ notice.
Between HR, the company president, and myself, we decide we will not allow them to rescind this one as they have in the past. They are not worth the headache anymore. We start doing all the employee departure procedures and removing any personal effects from the facility pc etc.
Find a 2-page long time-stamped rant personally attacking myself, my family, other facility staff, and more. Remember I said it was time-stamped? Written during work hours, specifically, a morning they were found to have not performed their duties.
Decide to print a copy for me, HR, and the president to keep on file. President and HR decide the day this person leaves, we hand them a copy and bar them from ever entering our facility or associated offices again. The day comes, they start begging to keep their job because supposedly the other offer fell through.
Nope… the plant manager, president, HR all tell them to hit the road.
Tries begging me as a last effort. I just smile and say ‘No, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you by holding you back anymore.’ Get an odd look. President comes over, hands them the letter, and tells them to leave, never return, never call here again, etc.
Two days later, they post on social media about how much of a jerk I am for firing them and not helping them out how I am a trashy friend, how my brother and I are transphobic, and whatever else.
Ends up with a wonderful stream of mutual friends treating me like trash, etc.
In retaliation, I take screens shots of old convos of them ragging on a lot of our mutuals, the derogatory names they used to describe a lot of people, even how this person had treated someone like a literal sick animal because that person had asked them out once and instead of saying they weren’t interested, acted like this person just would never leave them alone, how sickening it was and the whole nine yards.
Do a massive name and shame post dump of all of this on social media where they can see and are tagged. The cherry on top? That wonderful letter they wrote bashing everyone at our facility and personal attacks on my family and me, who all the mutuals know since we used to always offer car help to people, and the offender and I shared the same birthday so we used to have joint parties to celebrate.
So… am I a jerk? And yea, I still have all the screenshots, the letter and to this day, the social media post still sits on my profile for any soul to find.”
7. Kill My Fish? I'll Make Your Life A Bit Harder
“So, my ex kinda sucks. A lot. He lied to me and there was some emotional abuse. He stole my $50 hoodie and has been giving me the run around for at least a month.
I was pretty much keeping to myself until around two weeks ago a mutual friend confided in me that he killed my fish by starving them. We won the fish at the fair together over the summer, and he decided to keep them because I had cats who could easily kill the fish.
When I moved to college about 45 minutes away, I wanted to get my fish back because fish were allowed in the dorms. He said he didn’t want to bring them in fear of the tank tipping over on the drive which seemed reasonable. Now, these were just goldfish; BUT it absolutely enraged me nonetheless. Those were living things. I was incredibly upset, so I plotted.
Almost as if fate intervened, I was on Tik Tok the next day and found a video of a guy saying what to do to make someone’s life a little bit harder. I bought 2 and a half pounds of miscellaneous cut keys and 100 plastic ID key chains. Yesterday, everything came in. That same mutual friend and I sat down, wrote his phone number on every single ID, and added a key onto it. We then drove around town and dropped them everywhere. Target, side streets, grocery stores. Everywhere we could think of. So he’ll start getting random calls about his set of keys (that he never lost). At least 100. I’ll update if he says anything about it.”
6. Order Me To Make Your Lunch? I'll Get My Revenge
“Back in the day, my sister used to treat me like her personal servant. She even stated I was her servant once. And I would fight her about it. But she’d relapse here and there and act like I was subservient to her. But one day I got some petty revenge when she made me make her lunch.
At the time we lived in a house that had a second living room in the underground.
So my sister and I spent a lot of time there watching TV and playing N64. While there she suddenly ordered me to go make her lunch. Which for us at the time was basically microwaved hotdogs. And she’d only ever eaten one at a time.
So I went into the kitchen and started getting ready to microwave her hotdog. But then I got an idea. I took the hotdog and cut various lines, designs, and shapes into it.
Anyone who does this knows that the hotdog will gnarl and twist and contort like crazy while it cooks.
I set the microwave to one minute and returned to the underground. She looked at me and said, ‘Where’s my lunch!’ I just dismissed her and said, ‘Get it yourself!’. She glared at me and then walked up the stairs. A few seconds later she yelled, ‘OP YOU MUTILATED MY HOTDOG!!’
I nearly fell over laughing. And my sister still ate the hotdog. But she gave me side glares while she did. She also never tried to order me to cook her lunch again. And shortly after she went to live with relatives for a while.”
5. I Made A Homophobe Almost Pee His Pants
“I‘m trans, female-to-male. I only figured that out this year, which means I‘m basically pre-everything. I still introduce myself as Alex and tell people my preferred pronouns if I feel safe enough. I do look naturally masculine tho (which I‘m eternally grateful for!)
At a house party, everything was chill, we were just vibing and having a good time until some dude arrived. We‘ll just call him DL for the sake of simplicity.
It took us exactly three seconds to figure this idiot out. He was rude, especially to the girls, aggressive, and already reeked of booze when he arrived.
He apparently didn’t think I looked masculine which means I was greeted just as disrespectfully as the other girls.
He acted inappropriately and told some of the lesbian girls (the host was a lesbian herself so there were a few straight people there) that he could ‘change their minds’.
Also, he started a physical altercation with another guest although he didn’t do anything.
Time flies and he continues to be a jerk, insulting people left and right but threatening to beat people up if a swear word was uttered in his general vicinity. Regardless of whether he was addressed or not.
Then we wanted to leave for a quick smoke break outside (I didn’t wanna smoke, I already had some earlier, but I still wanted to join them).
This is why I go to get my jacket.
We had a separate room where we kept shoes, jackets, and backpacks because otherwise, there would’ve just been a mess all over the place.
I’m alone in the room and apparently, it’s my turn to bask in the glory of his almighty sensual appeal (which he didn’t have, he was really ugly).
So he goes inside, closes the door, and tells the others to give us a minute.
He immediately has a condescending look on his face while he wobbled in my general direction. He basically just spewed lies like: ‘I know you want it. Come on, admit it, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t want this.’
And while I am not opposed to the idea of sleeping with a dude (I’m bi), I still have standards.
I just wanted to brush him off and ignore him, as I had for the past three hours.
But then I remembered something.
Earlier we had played a game of ‘Never have I ever’ and one of the other male guests had made a joke about hooking up with him. And DL did NOT like that. If looks could kill, Male Guest would’ve been dead. He immediately became aggressive and felt insulted that Male Guest had perceived him as gay. Which he didn’t.
So I turn to him, look him in the eye, and just say in my deepest possible voice:
‘I’m a dude, bro.’
The sheer look of terror in his eyes was absolutely hysterical.
Never in my entire sixteen years of existing, have I caused someone to feel this level of pure horror.
He was just frozen in shock before turning around and bolting out of the room.
‘No way! That’s a guy?’
I think I broke him and it is safe to say, he didn’t bother me again. I just grinned and went on to have my well-earned smoke break.
Sadly, that didn’t stop him from being a jerk to the others and we sure didn’t miss him when he finally left.”
4. Let My Aim Be True
“This happened close to thirty years ago. I can’t remember if I was ten or eleven. My family is traveling showpeople and we lived in trucks and caravans. So if you can imagine a heap of caravans cramped together as the setting.
When I was a kid my brothers and I briefly had a nemesis called Taddam. He was a brat kid and always tried to fight us.
One day he and his friends started a mud fight with me and my brothers.
They had the advantage because they had started the fight when they were already in the muddiest area and we were on our patio. They pelted us with clods and we scrambled for cover. We tried to fire back but the ground was grassier where we were.
In a fit of frustration, I plunged my hands down into the sodden puddle and pulled up a meaty clod the size of my head, a massive muddy ball but dense and held together by the grassroots.
With all my strength I launched the wet cannonball.
And with a satisfying sloppy, weighty, messy punch to the face, the super clod blasted Taddam right in the center of his face. The mass detonated. Roots, mud, and rocks splatter outwards like a goopy explosion, as the inertia transferred to Taddam’s head, sending the bully tumbling backward into the mud
We took the opportunity to get away but looking back I saw Taddam get up and angrily punch a lean-to pole and swear after hurting his hand.
Even now nearing forty, this is one victory I still smile thinking about.”
3. Abusive Boss Didn't Care About His Staff's Health And Safety
“I was an idiot growing up and ended up in a rehabilitation program for people under 18 to avoid jail time and eventually got given a place at a large charity agency that sources workers for anything from retail to gardening. The person directly in control of my position at said charity was one of those ‘I’m too nice for anyone to notice me doing wrong’ people and he put me, someone, who literally couldn’t (and still can’t years later) talk to a stranger without panicking, into a job in retail speaking to upwards of 35+ customers a day.
It may not sound like a lot but I struggled to make it through a day without going into the back room and crying.
So, I get assigned to work in an (unsure of the right word here but, privately owned?) retail place that sells ‘upcycled’ furniture. I had previously worked at the site actually doing the upcycling and knew this stuff was a scam, barely had a thing changed and the people doing the work spent most of the day drinking coffee and smoking while playing games on their phone.
The boss of this site (Kevin) showed just what kind of person he was from day 1 by threatening to fire me for telling him I can’t handle strangers and shouting in my face. God, I wish he had fired me. This never got better and over the months of working there, I eventually started recording it all without his knowledge. Among the things he did is this list:
- Shouting at staff for not putting toilet paper on the holder (there was a pile of it on the back of the toilet)
- Calling the person in charge of my placement, and reporting me for ‘lack of workplace enthusiasm’ in front of me while I was having a panic attack.
- Telling a 70+-year-old woman who I worked with that she needs to “grow up and handle confrontation like a man” after having 2 large men shout and swear at her for refusing to sell an already sold item to them.
- Throwing his phone (told by another employee) after I called in sick for a day due to crippling stomach pains brought on by Crohn’s.
- After being told at 11 am that I won’t make it to my shift (due to being in hospital), proceeded to call me at 3 am the next morning and yell at me (he seemed VERY wasted) demanding I have a doctor prove I was in the hospital because I didn’t give 2 weeks notice.
And back to the story.
All of this was recorded in the space of only 3 weeks and I gave it all to my placement manager who proceeded to organize a meeting between himself, Kevin, and me to try and put things right. During this meeting, however, instead of calmly talking about the issue and what can be done to solve it, all the evidence was shown to Kevin who then yelled at me for recording him then throwing a full-on tantrum that I would dare question his style of management while I sat there scared and my placement manager just did nothing.
Back we go to work with a final warning strike issued to me for gross misconduct and told that I should do as stated in my contract and anything else that is asked of me or I would be fired. I do everything I can to follow my contract and anything else asked of me including cleaning a toilet and seeing a broken window above it.
That’s when I finally get a plan together.
The plan I came up with meant I had to stay in everyone’s good books, deal with jerk customers, go to work even in crippling pain and dose up on meds to control my panicking but in exchange my belief was I could get Kevin replaced or at least get myself removed from the situation.
I should have clarified earlier, being fired from any site ALSO gets you taken off the charity’s payroll.
I started informing Kevin of every little safety violation the site managed to break from broken windows in the female toilets, loose light fixtures, and broken locks on doors all the way up to a giant glass panel going across the front of the shop that was barely hanging in by a few bits of rubber and could easily kill a small child or less than strong adult if it were to fall out.
I emailed him and texted him about each one individually and brought it up to other staff in hopes they would do the same, while also making sure to take photos of each of these issues so I could use them again later.
Another month and a half of working there and at this point I felt I may have too many minor details saved up but decided its best to go overkill than underkill and sent a huge email to the UK HSE (health and safety executive) detailing every risk and danger with photos attached to show what the place was doing wrong and requesting an inspection.
Of course, they obliged.
1 week later I get a phone call from Kevin. He tells me how the shop is closing down, how a safety inspection was carried out, and how it had been failed so badly that he lost his contract with the charity and that nobody would be able to use the building for weeks while everything gets brought back up to code, but he couldn’t run the place anymore due to financial issues while it was closed because he had no savings for this.
I never heard from him again.
A year later: After this happened I moved on and began working from home doing image editing for a quick buck and around a year later I get a call from the placement manager who hadn’t heard from me the whole time and I got asked in the coldest, most passive-aggressive tone ‘why didn’t you tell me the store closed?’ Turns out they had been apparently paying me £300 a DAY for a job I didn’t have, hours I didn’t work and this was all apparently being reported on the charity’s income as someone else’s account.
They got me confused with another person and reported their hard work on my files and it took them a year to notice because of how badly they handled everything.
They had my name on another person’s paperwork and though they paid the right person, they were using my name. As for the numbers being so high, some type of fraud was likely happening on one side or the other.”
2. Paint My Nails In My Sleep? I'll Scare You To Death
“This happened years ago. I went over to my sister’s place one day for a reason I don’t remember. And while there I was very tired and took a nap on her sofa. At some point, I remember feeling like something was licking my fingers. I half awoke and inquired if one of my sister’s cats was licking my hand.
My sister said the cat was indeed doing that.
So I reached for the cat to pet him and went back to sleep. A while later I felt that same licking sensation on my fingertips. So I got suspicious. I woke up slowly but didn’t move.
I cracked my eyes open slightly and saw my sister was painting my nails as I slept. Funny thing is, when I went to pet her cat, I ended up getting wet nail polish all over the poor thing and didn’t know it.
But anyway, with my sister trying to paint my nails and thinking I was still asleep, I saw a golden opportunity.
I waited for just the right moment and sprang into my trap. My hand, the one she was trying to paint the nails on suddenly flew up and grabbed the top of her head like a basketball. And she let out a hilarious scream that she’d never done before or since.
Another person who was there the whole time saw what happened and nearly fell over laughing. My sister looked like I’d just given her a heart attack. But it was so worth it.
My sister laughs about it too these days. But I’ll never forget how funny it was when I did that.”
1. Bite My Man? You Won't Get Out Of The Rental Contract
“A few months back in autumn of 2019 I was in dire need of a flat, as my then-fiancé had broken up with me and canceled our rental contract. I moved in with 2 flatmates in October, as they seemed nice enough when I first met them. They were a nightmare to live with though.
Alik was from Russia and Gedeminas from Lithauania. (We lived in Germany.
Also, those are not their real names.). Alik spoke almost no English and Gedeminas no German, so they talked Russian to each other even when I was in the room, which made me feel rather excluded. Alik once woke me up at night and was so mad at me when I told him I’m officially in bed, he didn’t talk to me until I moved out months later.
But this story is about Gedeminas.
As my therapist had suggested finding some friends, I chatted to some people on the internet and got to know someone who would soon become my significant other. In January, he came to visit me in the shared flat. He LOVES cooking and is very good at it. He would often invite our flatmates to eat and only asked for a little contribution to the raw ingredients.
Gedeminas wouldn’t pay the 2-3€ he asked, but we didn’t mind as it was rather insignificant and more symbolic, as to not make them feel indebted to us.
Now at one such meal, when my significant other served dessert (mousse au chocolat), Gedeminas didn’t finish it for some reason. My significant other said no problem, I’ll finish it for you. Gedeminas refused to give it to him, as he wanted to throw it in the trash.
My significant other laughed and told him it’s really no problem, he’d just use his own spoon and stretched his hand out to grab it. Gedeminas reached for his wrist and pulled it towards him, and a little quarrel ensued over the table (they sat across from each other), and in the process, Gedeminas bit down hard on my man’s arm to get him to leave his mousse alone.
I screamed at Gedeminas, and he eventually stopped. I was furious and could never really let go of my grudge even when my man told me it didn’t really bother him.
Now, 2 months later in March of 2020, I moved out. Our rental contract had a special clause that said that we had to rent the flat for at least 3 years, and if we wanted to move out earlier, we had to provide a new tenant.
When I moved in, I thought this would be no problem, as the rent was relatively cheap and there is a famous university in our city so there are always students looking for a shared flat. But as you all know, the whole situation happened and it got significantly harder to get someone to move in. In February, Gedeminas had visited his parents in Lithuania, and due to the ongoing health crisis, he didn’t come back to the shared flat and looked to get out of the contract.
He thought that it was a normal german rental contract where you can terminate it with 3 months’ notice. (remember; he didn’t speak german so he probably didn’t understand everything in the contract that he signed). I sent him translations of the contract and told him he had to find a new tenant to take his place.
Finding new tenants is hard with everything going on. Finding a new tenant without being able to show them the flat though, because you are in an entirely different country…
That might be considered close to impossible.
I finally found 2 people that were willing to move in June, and they would start renting in July. Now, I COULD have told my landlord that Gedeminas could ‘use’ one of the new tenants to get out of the contract, and given his situation, I probably would have, had he not bitten my significant other. I decided to be petty and keep them aaaaaaaall to myself. Now he gets to pay 250€ a month until either he can find someone to move in there or until November of 2021. It’s admittedly petty, but sometimes karma needs a little help…”