People Open Up About Their Repulsive Revenge Stories
16. The Pink Elephant With Purple Polka Dots
“When my father was in his teens, they had a neighbor who always drank. The dude had a tendency to get real nasty according to dad and my grandmother hated this kind of person since my grandfather had a drinking habit. During this time period, I don’t entirely think things like Reckless Driving or DUI existed, so no one gave a darn.
The neighbor had a bit of a nasty habit of constantly parking in areas he shouldn’t.
No matter how many times my grandmother tried to reason with him, he wouldn’t listen. Well, one day he crossed the line when he parked his car right behind my uncle’s car and couldn’t let him out of where he was parked. She tried talking to him, but no dice. That was the final straw for grandma.
Now before I get into the revenge, here are some things everyone needs to know about dear old grandma.
She sadly passed when I was 7 so I didn’t have the chance to get to know her too well. I asked my dad about her a few times and here’s the best way to sum up my grandmother: while she was the type of woman who could bake cookies, create lovely art and make her children and grandchildren gorgeous clothing, she was a woman who literally burned her bra years ago.
She was a complete smarty pants who if you wronged her or her family, you would face her wrath. No one would dare mess with her, not even my grandpa or the neighbors. She was a woman ahead of her time!
Now here’s where the revenge comes in. My grandmother was so sick of this neighbor’s shenanigans she went to the nearest store and bought a ceramic elephant.
Afterward, she went to the hardware store, bought two gallons of paint: pink and purple, and began to paint the elephant. The result was a pink elephant with purple polka dots on the body.
Now that the item was finished, every single night when the neighbor would go to the bar, she had my dad lug the elephant onto the front property, wait for him to come home from the bar, completely wasted out of his mind and see the elephant.
The neighbor would stare at it with curiosity and wonder how much he drank before going inside and passing out.
The very next morning, possibly around 5 am, my grandma would wake my dad up and force him to bring the elephant inside the house. Around 8 am, the neighbor is up, looks out his window, and bam! The elephant was gone.
This went on for MONTHS. They would pull this every night and day for those few months and it soon got to a point the neighbor began to question his sanity.
The other neighbors didn’t do anything since most didn’t know, thought the neighbor was crazy or knew, and didn’t want to get into the crosshairs.
I’m not entirely sure what happened; but I think according to dad, this led the neighbor to quit drinking entirely.
As for the elephant? I think my grandpa sold it a year or two after grandma passed away along with a few other things that belonged to her.”
15. Coworker Hides My Paperwork So I Get Him A Divorce
“At the time, I thought it was my dream job. I was back in my hometown. It was great, or so I thought? It only took me about three months to realize the job made me absolutely miserable. I typically refrain from using the word ‘hate’. However, I hated this job. I also hated mostly everyone I worked with. I had come from a very different employment background than most of the people I worked with.
I did not have a single ‘friend’ in this office building. I also have a very specific definition of someone I would label a ‘friend.’
Friend: Any person who is willing to show up at your house, day or night, with little notice, shovel in hand, fully prepared to bury a body, and never ask any questions. Everyone else is an acquaintance!
My options to depart this assignment at the time were very limited.
In order to leave I had to submit a packet to attend Assessment and Selection for one of two organizations. At the time I had physically let myself slip a bit, but I had a solid three months to prepare myself mentally and physically. That’s exactly what I did. The odds were not in my favor, but I was at least given an opportunity to try out.
Much to my surprise, I was selected. I was ecstatic. Not only because I was selected, but because I knew this would upset all the ‘wonderful’ masters who seemingly took enjoyment in making my life miserable. You see dear reader, I was loved so much that I had 24-hour duty the day before I went to Assessment and Selection and the day I returned. When I notified my many bosses they did EVERYTHING in their powers to halt my departure.
When they failed in that quest they decided to give me another round of 24-hour duty on my last day. I was loved!
I had numerous appointments before my departure. One was critically important and I couldn’t miss it, or it would derail my fast-moving train. I arrived at my desk on one of my final days there and it had been ransacked. People at the office understood I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and my desk was always pristine.
Everything has its place and nobody touched anything.
After seeing the wreckage I calmly strolled to the janitorial closet and grabbed three large trash bags. I slowly moved back towards my cubical eyeing everyone in the ‘cube farm’ in an attempt to determine the culprit. No dice. I then haphazardly tossed all my possessions into the trash bag and took them to my vehicle. I didn’t care anymore; I was ‘out.’
I take that back.
I did care about one thing. My clearing papers, and that one appointment. When I returned to my desk I went to open my three-drawer filing cabinet. The drawer didn’t budge. When I tried harder the entire cabinet rolled out from under my desk. I never lock my cabinet. No worries. I have the keys. Well, they didn’t work either. The calmness instantly subsided. I was angry.
I stood up on my desk like a maniac. I could now see eye-to-eye with all the other peons in the cube farm and loudly stated, ‘My clearing papers are in my filing cabinet. Someone has either taken my keys or moved my cabinet. I want my clearing papers NOW!’ Not all, but most eyes diverted to Hector, and Hector was giggling like a little schoolboy.
OP: Where are my things?
Hector (Still Laughing): Somewhere on the third floor.
Hector: Your key works and the cabinet is somewhere on the third floor.
OP: I have an appointment at 0900. It’s 0730. Each of the three wings on the third floor is the size of FOOTBALL FIELDS.
Hector: Not my problem buddy. (Then bursts out into hysterical laughter.)
You see, Hector thought we were friends. He knew I had OCD.
He knew I was leaving. He thought this was the perfect time to ‘prank’ me. I spent nearly three hours rummaging through empty cubicles to find my coveted clearing papers. I was late for every single appointment. However, the gods smiled on me that day and the sweet ladies at my Final Out were kind enough to send me on my way. I was nearly done.
The only thing I had left was 24-hour duty.
Hector’s logic was flawed. First, he thought we were friends. Secondly, he knew I had 24-hour duty on my LAST DAY. Hector, anticipating revenge, removed nearly everything from his desk when he departed for the day. I smiled at him when he departed and he smiled at me. Game on.
Everyone had departed the building except for myself and Boss Dave.
Boss Dave: So how are we going to organize our dinner and breaks?
OP: Well Dave, (Dave is now puzzled because I did not use his Rank/Title/Sir), I am going to dinner now.
Boss Dave: (Angrily) You know I out…
OP: I am aware you outrank me Dave, but I assume you are aware that I am the only person who has access to the system? Do you know I am the only person between us who knows how to update the daily report? The report that goes directly to the boss of this entire organization? Lastly, did you know that at 0900 tomorrow I no longer work here? Which Dave, coincidentally happens to be the time the boss is expecting to have a detailed report completed? Your call Dave.
There was no more argument.
Boss Dave (Understandably annoyed): You have AN HOUR!
I went to Wal-Mart for dinner. I was hungry for multiple aluminum pans, Zip-Lock bags, clear cling-wrap, and $80.00 of Jello.
Hector didn’t remove everything. He only removed what he thought was important to him. His two computers, two monitors, organizational bins, calendar, and other unimportant things were still readily available for the taking. Everything was placed in Zip-Lock bags and meticulously wrapped.
Computers. Monitors. Everything! Then I encased it all in Jello.
It took a considerable amount of time for it to become electronic Jello. I had ALL NIGHT. I was still seething before midnight. I then removed the electronic dessert and placed it into the deep freezer and returned to the office with Dave.
Dave was perplexed, so Dave and I had a conversation. Dave even came around and we started becoming friendly.
Dave was Team OP by the end of our conversation.
It wasn’t enough though. I was not done yet. I took my midnight break and told Dave I was going out and that I would be back in an hour or so. I then drove to a local adult store. I walk in and go straight to the clerk:
OP: I understand why adult magazines have been covered in airports and gas stations!
OP: I don’t want to buy anything per se.
Here are 100 dollars. I would like to open up some of the magazines and retrieve the little mailing cards in them.
Clerk: (Still puzzled) You don’t want to buy them? Do you just want the cards?
Clerk: Knock yourself out man.
I then tore through every gay, fetish, and taboo porn magazine in that store. I retrieved hundreds upon hundreds of cards and returned to work.
Dave was again perplexed when I arrived back, but now it was time to put Dave to work.
Dave knew I was the only one who could update the system, but I told him previously I would need his help with ‘something’. Well, something arrived in the form of nearly 300 mailing cards.
We signed Hector up for everything using his home phone, cell phone, personal email, and work email. I even used his Next of Kin (NOK) information on some. I couldn’t contain my pleasure when I dropped all those cards in the U.S.
Postal bin outside my work. The kind of pleasure when you laugh uncontrollably when nobody is around. Then I returned to work to complete the boss’s report.
It was glorious when Hector walked in. Our eyes met and he waved and mouth, ‘bye.’ Then he rounded the corner and seen that his entire desk area was frozen bricks of electronic Jello. I even took the time to whittle out Jello and reconnect his monitor and set up his computer station.
Everything was in working order. It may have been encased in Jello, but the monitors were on, and the mouse kind of work too. I calmly collected my things and departed. There was no need to gloat.
Fast forward five months:
I am nearing the completion of my six-month course. My new workmates and I are driving to get dinner in small-town America. I then get a phone call.
Ring, Ring, Ring:
Unknown Caller: You ruined my life.
OP: Who is this?
Unknown Caller: Hector!
OP: Hector who? (I forgot about him. Acquaintance… not a FRIEND)
Unknown Caller: Hector from OLD WORKPLACE!
OP: Oh, Hey. What’s Up.
Hector: You ruined my life.
OP: How do you suppose I did that?
Hector: It started slowly after you left. I started getting magazines and emails. Then I started getting naughty toys. Then phone calls. My wife got phone calls.
Today I walk into my house and my daughter was playing with a blowup sheep. My wife thinks I am a weird freak and is filing for divorce.
OP: That sucks. Hey man. I have to go. We are about to get dinner.
Hector: WHAT. That’s all you have to say…
OP: Remember what you told me when I was looking for my clearing papers, Hector?
Hector: WHAT? This is…
OP: Not my problem buddy.
Evidently, Hector and his wife were VERY religious. She was not welcoming to the free mail gifts and didn’t believe his explanation as to why he was receiving them. I mean, what kind of irrational butthole would even think to do something like that to someone?
How was I to know it would damage Hector like that? Maybe they didn’t divorce? Maybe they did? Maybe his next wife will take pleasure in the near-endless supply of naughty gifts. These are questions I cannot answer.
What kind of irrational jerk would even think to do something like that to someone? Me!!!”
14. Brigadier General Apologizes To A Lowly Corporal
“This was back in 2014. I was just settling into a comfortable, yet unfulfilling task of being a secretary for a high (but not that high) ranking officer (let’s call him Mick) in airforce intelligence. I LOVED Mick and the other officers in his unit, but didn’t like the job because I was supposed to be drafted into a frontline intelligence unit, but broke my arm BAD during the first day of bootcamp.
Anyway, was just doing my thing, in the process of ‘fighting’ to be allowed into officer school with 2 metal plates in my arm and a titanium bolt in my knee, and all that time working hard to keep my commander’s schedule the way he liked it.
Now, my commander had 1 strict policy; no matter who it was, no matter how high ranking or low, if he was requested to join a meeting, an explanation (like meeting agendas, priorities, etc.) had to be delivered to me, as his secretary, at LEAST a week before the meeting, to help him review it.
If it was TOP SECRET or TOP PRIORITY, the week prior rule was not applied, but still, we requested the explanation ASAP before we could say yes or no.
Well, as you would imagine – he being a high-ranking officer meant that other, maybe even HIGHER ranking officers might request a meeting with him. Most of the time it went smoothly – except for one.
One morning I was receiving a call on the mainline from a certain secretary of a certain high ranking officer (let’s call her Betty and him – Benny)
‘Hey OP, I need Mick to head over to a conference meeting tomorrow at our office’ (their office is in a different city, like a 30 minutes drive)
‘Um, hey Betty, what’s this all about? I haven’t seen an email invite with the details..’
‘Oh, we can’t send it.
It’s TOP SECRET’ (this wasn’t surprising when things were TOP SECRET, usually it was explained over the red line and in some cases sent by fax connected to the red line)
‘Ok, wait for a second then’ I switch to the red line and call her office.
She picks up, I can literally FEEL her scoffing through the phone and say ‘OP, this really isn’t necessary, just tell Mick to head over tomorrow by 10:30 AM.’
‘Sorry Betty, I can’t do that without being given an explanation, written or verbal.’
‘WHAT?! DO YOU EVEN REALISE WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO?!’
She then goes INTO me, yelling that she could have me on trial for not following orders from a superior officer (I was a mere corporal, which was unusual for a Colonel.
She was a major, and a secretary of a Brig. General)
I then go into ‘anger management mode’ and keeping my tone the calmest and reasonable I say: ‘if your commander isn’t pleased with my reasoning, he’s more than welcome to settle this with Mick. The thing is, Mick isn’t available until 2 days from now because he’s inactive training’ (almost all airforce commanders in high ranking offices are also pilots, and need to go to their respective bases to train once a week)
‘WHAT?! YOUR COMMANDER WILL HEAR OF THIS!’ CLICK
Well, figuring this isn’t over, I send a page to Mick, saying he might receive angry calls soon.
He’s a really chill guy and knows to trust my judgment by now.
Also, a side note – Mick’s office is so unique, he doesn’t have a direct commanding officer that’s Brig. General. His direct commander is the COMMANDER OF THE ENTIRE AIRFORCE.
15 minutes later, I get a conference REDLINE call from the Airforce command office. In it was me, Betty, and the secretary of the commander (let’s call her Angela), out-ranking both me and Betty by a lot and 100% NOT INTERESTED.
Angela: ‘Hey OP, I’m here with Betty, I understand they requested Mick to come to a conference tomorrow?’
Me: ‘Yes, She did call me, and as I explained that without a reasonable excuse, I cannot change his schedule like that.’
Betty: ‘And As I’ve said, I can’t divulge that info to a CORPORAL, It’s TOP SECRET’
Angela, now getting MORE annoyed by this: ‘You do know no officer is acting as Micks’ secretary, right?’
Betty: ‘It’s not MY problem, I have orders not to divulge TOP SECRET INFO’ (which is a TOTAL LIE, I have clearance levels higher Than most, as Mick’s role is head intelligence advisor to the AIRFORCE COMMANDER HIMSELF, sometimes representing him in meetings with top-ranking officials across the globe)
Angela: ‘Well then, even if you’re right, why didn’t you fax it via the red line? Send it now or Mick won’t arrive.’
Betty: ‘OMG what IS IT with you people?! Don’t you get that my commander’s meeting is important?! Send Mick and that’s it!’
She then goes into YELLING AT THE SECRETARY OF THE AIRFORCE COMMANDER, BLAMING HER FOR INCOMPETENCE
Suddenly, we hear rushing steps and a different voice comes up from Angela’s phone: ‘Hi, yes? Who is it?’
Betty: ‘It’s Betty, from Benny’s office.
I understand you’re the secretary of the Airforce commander?’ She then opens up on a tirade of lies about me and Angela.
The voice cuts her: ‘I’m sorry Betty, but this is The AIRFORCE COMMANDER. Remind me who’s This ‘Benny’ you’re so arrogant about, that you decide to yell at two of my most trusted secretaries?’
Betty, grasping and straws right now, mumbling: ‘Oh, sorry sir, it’s just that they weren’t very nice…’
The Airforce Freaking commander, while I can hear Angela laughing in the background: ‘Betty, listen closely.
I do not like your attitude and do not approve of your demands. You can tell Benny that until he PERSONALLY apologizes to both my secretary AND Micks’, he can expect NO attendance from the airforce in ANY meeting. Good day.’
1 hr later, I received a knock on my office door. Here enters Benny, a Brig. General, asks for me, apologizes for his secretaries behavior, and asks if there’s a way to get Mick in his meeting. I stammer out that ill check with Angela…
We eventually sent a low-ranking officer that told us the things spoken in the meeting were NOT TOP SECRET and had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE AIRFORCE. He just came, ate some pastries, drank some coffee, and left.
Betty never called us again, only Benny, and he always asked for me.”
13. Got My Boss Fired And Took His Job
“I was 17, working at Dunkin Donuts for two years at this point, and had a new manager, he was really cool easy going at first. After about 6 months he started making gross comments to the girls that worked there, I heard him say to a girl who was a couple of years older than me, ‘Darn, you really filled in today’, she just chuckled, I was on the other side of the store but was wondering what I just heard.
This same girl I’d hang out with outside of work, and he’d text her sometimes chatting, which was not ok, she knew it but didn’t care/it was her boss and he’s not doing anything wrong.
This guy had a massive tattoo of his two daughters on his shoulder, so that was a big ‘I feel like I can trust you’ deal for me, but he was starting to creep me out and I was genuinely thinking I was overreacting.
One day after talking to him I turned around and walked away, and he whistled at me and says ‘Darn.’ I turn around and said, ‘Please stop that’s not ok.’ He was ANNOYED, I could tell but didn’t say anything. The next day I come in, my hourly schedule was changed from 40hrs/wk to 25hrs, and that day he said I’d be ‘dish duty’.
His tone was aggressive as if my dad was reprimanding me, but then he’d turn around and be Mr.
Nice Guy to the other girls. First of all, I had been working there longer than every one else working there (I basically trained that manager), also, there’s no such thing as ‘dish duty’ at a Dunkin’ Donuts. The only thing that kept that day going for me, was when the usual customers came in and wondered where I was and the manager had to say I was ‘in the back.’ Little did he know, I knew my customers very well, to the point where if I saw them pull into the parking lot, I’d start getting their usual coffee order ready so they could have it right when they walked in.
Because of the time this saved those customers, they’d get leave their house a couple of minutes later, so when they walked in and had to wait in line they were pretty upset.
I get home frustrated bc basically my boss cut my hours in half and forced me to wash dishes all day because I didn’t have the reaction he wanted after whistling at me. This was not going to work, so I called the DD corporate number, told them everything, and said I didn’t know who else to call about it.
They said they’d handle it.
The next day, we’re all working, me in the back again. A corporate-looking guy came behind the counter and said the manager’s name, asked if they could sit and talk. It was some corporate guy, the guy who owns the Dunkin’s in my town, and my manager all sitting at a table in the lobby area. Naturally, I have to see what’s going on/is this because I called corp yesterday? I go stand at the register, right in front of the table they’re sitting at.
I see my manager look over at me with his eyes and I was screaming a big ‘fudge you’ in my head hoping my thoughts somehow teleport to him.
After 10 mins they all stood up, and the manager walks out right there. The guys came to the register and asked if (my name) was working, I said that’s me, the corporate guy said I did the right thing to call and report everything and that he won’t be coming back. I was offered the manager position the next week, and the boss went on to manage Taco Bell.”
12. He Pranked Me So I Prank Him Into Submission
“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 you want the moolah or not?
OP: (I don’t even know what he is talking about, but $300 seems low. I think?) That’s the 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.
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 fun and giggles. 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 was 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 moolah 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. I enjoy ‘naughty position’, doing ‘naughty position.’ 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. There were plenty of pictures, wrinkle grommets, and things I never wish to see again. 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 text is 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.
(I can hear ‘dings’ in the background as Paul was being solicited for what I assume to be sensual favors.)
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 and have trouble hook in my toe. 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?
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 a 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 for ‘A WEEK OF SO’. 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.
11. Check Into My Financials? I Will Revoke Your Employment
“Early 2017, a four-year relationship I was in came to a screeching halt after the dreaded ‘where is our relationship actually going’ conversation. I have zero zero zero intention of ever getting married or having children – a fact I mention early on and then never breach the subject again until given the full-court press. After two months of mourning after this relationship ended, I decided to fire up the phone and install a few apps and try my luck despite being 37 and no spring chicken.
My success rate at matching on these apps was abysmally lower than I thought it would be, something in the range of 0.75% – 2% tops. I was surprised and disappointed by this but chalked it up to gold-diggers, scam artists, bitter old maids, robots, and my age. So, of my small basket of matches, half of the conversations died before they even got started, which cut my matches by a further 50%.
Then I started messaging with her.
We bonded over having both had common workplace experience: call centers. I had worked in call centers from age 20 until about 25. She was ’38’ and still working in one. Despite having been 12 years removed from that work environment, I was still able to relate to some of her experiences, likes, dislikes et cetera. She tells me that she works for ‘Bank A’ which is a foreign bank but has a credit card division in the USA.
I say I have heard of it but didn’t realize they also operated in the US. I also tell her that I know that ‘Bank B’ and ‘Bank C’ also have call centers here in town. She tells me she used to work at ‘Bank C’ and really liked it but got fired for some timeclock or attendance things. I tell her ‘yeah I do my main day-to-day basic stuff with Bank C but my more important stuff is at Bank D’.
At this point, she tells me that ‘Bank D’ in fact has a call center here in town as well, which I was not aware of. They are based in another state and I was under the assumption that all of their operations were based there as well, due to the way they promote themselves. She says that she has never worked for ‘Bank D’ but has a friend who currently works there.
So we stop talking about banks, start talking about other regular stuff, have pretty good conversations. Two weeks of this.
Eventually, we agree to meet up for a drink. I have been catfished before, so I suggested we meet in the parking lot rather than inside the bar. I wanted to be able to escape in case I was presented with a grenade rather than a flower.
We meet up, and she is who she claims that she is. We chat outside for about ten minutes and then proceed into the bar. Order drinks, chat a little more. This is where the first red flag showed up, but I mistook it for ‘first meeting jitters’. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, wanted to switch seats three times over the course of twenty minutes, checked her phone at least 15 times, and kept saying self-deprecating things.
I got irritated with the phone thing and asked for the check because I felt something was off.
I pay the check, we head back out to the parking lot, chat for two or three minutes and she asks me ‘so can I come over?’… My Southern Brain took over and even though I was irritated, I said sure. We arrived in separate cars and neither of us was wasted so I texted my address to her phone.
I am driving home, and halfway there, I get a text from her saying ‘I have to go home and change first.’ We live on opposite sides of town, so it’s going to take her 25 to get home, who knows how long to change and then another 35 to get to my place. So I’m assuming this is going to take at least an hour and a half.
I tell her to forget it, as it was already 1 am when we left the bar.
I took two or three days off from her, out of frustration and irritation. Phone conversations then resume and I am pretty much sensual right off the bat since she has already asked if she could come over (the very night she met me, for God’s sake). She strings me along for another good two weeks and then finally says ‘ok I will come over tonight’.
And actually does, but doesn’t drive to my house, but a parking lot about two miles from my house and wants me to pick her up and take her the rest of the way to my place. I tell her to ‘just drive to my house’ and she makes a big deal out of it so I cave in and pick her up from this random parking lot.
I pick her up at said parking lot, come back to my place, hang out watching tv and chatting, maybe a couple of drinks (can’t remember). We start making out, and it is decided that ‘it’s on’… so, like a weirdo, she goes into my bathroom — not to freshen up — to switch into a KIMONO! Weird, but okay whatever. We go into my room, and then she turns into a micromanager tells me what she wants, tells me what I can’t do, won’t do this, won’t do that, kills my desire, irritates me, and then once I’m thoroughly annoyed and she knows it, finally pleases me while she’s directing the activities.
It was awful. Can’t wait for her to leave, and mad at myself that I went through with it.
After she leaves, I start insulting her over text before she even has the chance to make it all the way home. Harsh, mean-spirited stuff, tell her unenjoyable, controlling, and too old to be acting like that. She insults me right back (probably because I was throwing some pretty sharp insults at her).
Fair enough. Time to put this one to rest and move on.
Several months go by and I get a random text from her. I resume insulting her based on the experience she ‘blessed’ me with. She says she knows she was a brat and apologizes. I keep my distance but send a few messages back and forth once a week or so. She starts sending naughty pictures and descriptive stories of what she wants to do ‘next time’.
At this point, I had a friend staying with me and I did NOT want him to meet her and for some reason, she wouldn’t allow me to go to her place. She claimed to live alone but was acting like she had a mountain of cash to hide from the world, so it was out of the question of me going to her place.
Two more months go by and another one of my friends gets married and is going out of town for three weeks for his honeymoon.
He asks me to check his mail occasionally and ‘you spend the night there if you want to’. As I have a friend at my place already and an opportunity to use a buddy’s place for some ‘activities’ I inform her of this and ask her if she wants to do ‘all of these things she’s been talking about’ over at my buddy’s unoccupied place. She says yes.
We set a day and a time for ~3 days from the original conversation.
Three HOURS before we are supposed to meet up, she calls me and says ‘Hey, how come you have an IRA account with Bank D with XXXX dollars in it?’ To which I replied in shock ‘Huh?’… “Not only that, but you also have another account with Bank D that has XXXX dollars in it.
That’s too much. You shouldn’t have that much money.’
My jaw hit the floor because the numbers she was giving me were within $200-$300 of the actual amount that was in those accounts on THAT DAY. As these are investment accounts, the values fluctuate every single day.
Remembering our conversation from the previous year when she told me that she had a friend who worked at ‘Bank D’, I assumed that she gave them friend my personal info and asked them to do a little snooping.
She had asked me enough personal questions over time to know enough of my details to ‘beat the computer’… She had my address, my phone number, my birthday, parts of my work history, knew my original hometown, et cetera.
After about three seconds of pure shock, I said something to the effect of ‘Do not ever call me again. Do not ever text me again. Do not ever drive past my house.
Do not send me any physical mail. Do not ever let my name be spoken by your mouth again. Please inform your friend to prepare their resume, as they will be unemployed very soon.’ And I promptly hung up.
I immediately called ‘Bank D'” and escalated the situation up to some ungodly level within the company. I spent about an hour and a half on the phone explaining the situation to three or four people as they each kept passing me up higher on the food chain.
‘Bank D’ did not operate the call center in my town. It was subcontracted to another company. I kept telling them that ‘her friend’ did this. The final person I spoke to, I said, I don’t know who this person was, but I’ll give you the name of the person I am talking about if it helps you in any way. I gave the name, and the lady on the phone politely and gently informed me that it was in fact HER who had done the snooping.
Apparently, whenever an account is accessed by an internal employee, a digital watermark is left behind so they can track everyone who has ever gone into the records of an account.
After I got off the phone with ‘Bank D’ I texted her and told her how stupid she was, that I knew it was her, and that she’s going to lose her job extremely soon. She acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about, so I reiterated: ‘You’re smoked, you witch.
All you had to do was to SAY NOTHING about my accounts and I never would have known a thing. Since you DID say something, you are now going to be unemployed and will likely never be able to work for a bank again.’
A few more follow-up calls with ‘Bank D’ over the next couple of days, verifying my story. I had to close all my accounts and re-establish new ones..
not only with ‘Bank D’ but also with my other bank as well, out of extreme precaution.
She revealed to me her snooping late on a Wednesday afternoon. She was escorted out of the building the following Monday. The saddest thing, I was under the assumption that it WAS a friend of hers all along, so I wasn’t even looking for revenge. I initially felt sad that one of her friends was going to be getting fired for ‘helping her out’.
I just wanted to protect my financial accounts. It turned INTO revenge when it was revealed to me by the bank that it was in fact HER that did it. So she lied to me about where she worked the entire time. She also lied about her age. She wasn’t 38 she was 41 (no big deal, but still).
I never heard from her again, but out of curiosity I recently looked up public records regarding HER to see if I could find out anything. She was living in a condo that she had purchased in 2004 (the one she wouldn’t let me go to). I found court paperwork that she had lost that condo to foreclosure in early 2019. Her snooping into my stuff cost her the job in July of 2018.”
10. Taking The Trash On My Way Out
“I had been a truck driver for years, and in an effort to raise a family and actually have a home life, I decided to take my skills to work for a garbage company. The company I started working for was a huge one in the US. It came with decent pay, great benefits, and a perfect work schedule. Their equipment was substandard, but I didn’t care much.
The employees at the company, however, we’re voting on unionizing the location in response to the complaints about management. I really didn’t care either way because I was so new that I had zero complaints. Immediately after the contract vote, the Operations Manager confronted me about why I voted to accept the union contract, and stated he knew I did because only three people voted not to, and he knew who they were.
I just walked away from the conflict and focused on doing my job to the best of my abilities. I worked hard and would even work as I was eating my lunch on a daily basis, and pushed myself to excel at being efficient at everything I did for them. I came to work sick several times when I should just call in sick, and covered many shifts when others called in themselves.
One would have thought an employer would appreciate people that are so devoted to their job; in fact, many of the employees there worked just as hard as I did. This employer, however, automatically deducted 30 minutes for lunch from each employee, but would actually harass employees that actually took their lunch break. They would push employees to perform more and more each day so that drivers were actually speeding to keep from being written up.
Supervisors and managers never commended good performance, and would actually make comments such as, ‘If you don’t like it here, McDonald’s is hiring’ and ‘There is always someone else waiting to take your job tomorrow because drivers are a dime a dozen.’ Vehicles were not properly maintained when it came to comfort — equipment such as air conditioning never worked. It was no wonder the employees had decided to unionize.
This went on for a couple of years before I found myself a target of such treatment. They started pushing me to drive faster, and I refused. They daily came and tried to threaten me with disciplinary action if I didn’t Improve my performance — a performance that I knew was already beyond what I was required to do.
One day I finally had enough and told my supervisor, ‘I only have two speeds.
If you don’t like this one… you sure aren’t going to like the other!’ He replied, ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ I then stated, ‘Keep pushing and you will find out!’ He did, so I showed him what that meant.
I started driving the speed limit everywhere I went, did only what I had to, and noted down each and every delay I faced, for months! I took every lunch, and every break I was entitled to, once even sitting with an office employee at a table right outside the General Manager’s window as she shared food he had provided to office personnel.
I knew this was annoying him. Finally one day they called me into the office and started yelling at me. I informed them that I wanted my shop steward to be present for the meeting. They reluctantly agreed and then proceeded to pull out a stack of my logs from files to go through during the meeting, in an effort to fire me.
When my shop steward arrived and the meeting started they went through log after log for about an hour before finally conceding that I had done nothing wrong.
The meeting ended with them asking me not to share its outcome with anyone else. I just smiled and walked out. As I walked down the stairs from the manager’s office, a crowd of employees stood waiting to see the outcome. When they saw my smile, the crowd broke into laughter.
I returned to my job and resumed my routine of working hard, but continued to take my lunch breaks.
Within a week, as I inspected my vehicle I noticed it was suddenly equipped with a GPS device. This was at a time when such devices were just hitting the market, so I knew the harassment was far from over, but I never allowed the opportunity for them to find fault. Before long, my regular truck was regularly taken out of service for repairs, and the replacement I was then assigned to was a rusty old death trap.
I started to appeal to the union for assistance but was told there was little they could do since it didn’t violate the union contract. I decided I would start looking for other employment but not before enacting my revenge.
For the previous couple of years, the company had assigned me to drive loads of trash to a landfill in the next county, because the disposal fee was MUCH cheaper.
When they first instructed me to do so, my supervisor told me not to tell landfill employees in our county what we were doing because it was a breach of their contract with the county we worked in.
However, since they were now harassing me into quitting, I made it a point to be less than subtle that I was routinely disappearing for long intervals. When a county employee started asking where I had been, I sheepishly replied, ‘oh, just over at XYZ county…’ He replied, ‘You aren’t supposed to go there!’ I answered, ‘Really!?!’ He then made it a habit of asking where I had been whenever I would disappear for prolonged periods of time.
Each time I would reply, ‘Oh, I’m not supposed to say.’
This went on for months as management continued to push me toward quitting. Finally, the day arrived, and I walked off the job and quickly found work elsewhere. A few months later I picked up the local newspaper to find a front-page article about how the company had violated the county contract and was being sued.
A later article read that lawsuit ended with a settlement of more than $800,000 being paid to the county. I found out from employees still working there that the corporate office terminated all of the managers as a result.
I sometimes miss the coworkers I once had, and miss the job itself, but it was justice enough to take the trash out as I left. I was regarded as somewhat of a hero after that by those left behind.
As for the immediate supervisor that directly harassed me each day. He kept his job when new management came on board. However, he insisted that he deserved a raise, and stated that he would have to quit if he didn’t receive one. The new GM told him that he would need the request in writing in order to try to negotiate with the corporation. When he handed the GM the ultimatum, the GM replied, ‘I will take this as your letter of resignation.'”
9. My Name Is Diarrhea
“So I am getting REALLY sick of the darn robocalls trying to scam the elderly. I like messing with the scammers (recently wasting 20 minutes of one’s time as we were driving to town with them thinking they had me on the hook for ‘government pay cards’) but lately, I have been answering my significant other’s phone and getting rid of them pretty quick. Today, I got a call about ‘end of life benefits’ and I was in a mood so messed with them.
This guy is some kind of foreigner with an accent which makes things funny. I spent the whole time trying to sound as confused, nice, and out of touch with reality as I can. I also did this with the MOST ABSURD Southern accent I could do.
He called and pitched his scam, and asked my name. As I’m struggling to stifle my laughter, I say, ‘Yes sir, It’s Dye Areeya Spelled D-I apostrophe A-R-R-H-E-A Jones spelled J-O-N-E-S.
From then on, He called me Di’Arrhea but pronouncing it like poop. IT WAS HILARIOUS. The whole time messing with the guy, I had to keep from bursting out laughing. The name wasn’t my idea, as I had seen a video of someone using a similar name ‘Diarrhea Pants’.
I get him on the hook by seeming to forget what year I was born. Really it was just bad math, but it worked as you could hear in his voice that he was happy to have such a confused ‘customer.’ At one point, he tells me I sound closer to 25 than the 65 I’m saying.
I’m not sure if he thought I was messing with him, or if he was complimenting me, but I thought I’d try and make him SUPER uncomfortable by saying I’d be out sleeping with hot young girls if I was 25 and when he didn’t immediately agree, I began asking him if he was into men. I was 65 after all.
That bullet dodged, he started getting more and more into his spiel, and the whole time he is constantly repeating my name saying things like, ‘Ok DiArrhea, blah blah blah’ or ‘Now DiArrhea, this benefits blah blah blah’ until he finally gets into the nitty-gritty dirt.
He moves the conversation to bank information. I talk up my ‘Forty-one K’ and how I had 2 checking’s, a savings, and an ‘IRS’ account. He works his way to ask for my information.
As he’s talking and trying to ask me for bank information, I pull the phone away from my face, drop the Faux Southern accent, and scream ‘DAD!’ I then put it back to my face, pick up the accent again and say, ‘Excuse me, sir, hold on.’
I then fake a screaming match between this 65-year-old man and his REALLY annoyed son.
The son is telling Di’Arrhea he is a piece of work (he is diarrhea in fact) and isn’t supposed to be on the phone. Meanwhile, the guy on the phone is asking, ‘Di’Arrhea, is everything OK?’ ‘Di’Arrhea, are you alright.’ It peaks with me, as the son, telling Di’Arrhea to get off the phone, and smacking my arm SUPER loud to make sure the guy on the phone could hear.
I then cry out pitifully in full-on overemphasized Southern Super Drawl as Di’Arrhea ‘PLEASE STOP HITTING ME!’ I then get back on the phone as this poor abused old man and tearfully tell the scammer I have to go and hang up.
Fast forward 10 minutes. I’m in the middle of telling my SO this story, and her phone rings AGAIN. I answer in a gruff voice as the son.
The scammer asks for ‘Di’Arrhea’ to which I tell the scammer ‘Diarrhea had to run’ (LOL) and that he wasn’t allowed to use the phone and that he’s not OK. The Scammer asks ‘Mentally… or Physically?’ (It’s at this point you can tell the dude is legit concerned for ‘Di’Arrhea’s’ safety as well as not set me off. It almost made me wonder if I went too far.) I answer that he was mentally handicapped from dementia, and the scammer should be ASHAMED for trying to take advantage of the elderly and scam them out of my inheritance. The scammer replies with, ‘No Sir, I wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone ELSE.’ I then jump on that ‘else’ and rip him a new one and tell him not to call again.
So yah… that was about 10 minutes of my afternoon.”
8. Actively Bully Someone Lesser Than You in A Work Environment? Hello, HR!
“A few years ago, I was working in a job I really enjoyed with a team I really gelled well with. There were about five of us working on the same portfolio of projects in different roles, and every single team member was just cream-of-the-crop, incredibly good at what they do. I can’t overemphasize how satisfying it was to work with such an incredibly competent, likable group of people.
In this job, instead of getting the Sunday night blues, I would get excited thinking about the work I would be doing the next day and planning how we would solve the complex problems together. It was like a series of logic puzzles. (Yes, I realize I’m a huge nerd. I promise I also had a life outside of work.)
The one downside (there’s always a downside) to this job was Steve.
Steve was not in the supervisory line for me or any of my team members, but he was about three levels above us and very senior. He’d been there for years and was tight with senior leadership. Steve was also a mega-creep. He said extremely inappropriate things to young women in the office, and he apparently wasn’t averse to being handsy, though as far as anyone knew, that was as bad as it had gotten.
The women in the office all knew to steer clear of him. My first week on the job, the whisper network made sure I knew: Never be alone with Steve. harassment is difficult to document, and no one wanted to risk their career and put a target on their back going after a big guy like Steve, so he just got away with it for years.
So for a couple of years, I followed this advice. There were a few instances of Steve saying incredibly uncomfortable things to me in passing, but for the most part, I managed to avoid him. Then I found out that my teammate Rob had gotten on Steve’s radar. For context, Rob is non-neurotypical and has some minor tic-ish behavior. He’s also shy and easily spirals into social anxiety when put in uncomfortable situations.
So one evening at our team’s informal weekly happy hour after work, Rob lets it slip that Steve’s been giving him a hard time. The rest of us are like, “whoa, wait, what?” because Steve never interacts with staff at our level, except to creep on women, and we basically make Rob tell us everything.
Basically for the last few weeks, Steve has been bullying Rob, making fun of his tics, and mimicking his way of speaking back to him.
He’s also been asking Rob how he can possibly be competent to do his job and implying he’s a pity hire. Once he called him an “r-word.” It’s clear Steve is seeking out Rob for this, because, again, there’s really no reason for him to interact with our team. Rob has been having horrible anxiety over this situation and has had bad insomnia and stomach issues since Steve started targeting him.
And not that it bears repeating, but just to reiterate, Rob is a beast at his job. And a genuinely good guy.
At this point, I’m seeing red. (We all were.) We tell Rob to go to HR, that his neurological issues put him in a protected ADA class, that he could get Steve in big trouble. Rob panics and says he can’t do that, begs us not to tell anyone at work, and says he wishes he hadn’t said anything.
We assure him we won’t say anything if that’s what he wants, but we’re all very distressed.
I leave the bar fuming just thinking, OK, that’s it. Fudge you, Steve. You’re going down.
I can’t tell anyone about what’s happening to Rob, because I promised him as much, so I start my own paper trail. I start baiting Steve. And I don’t mean I behave in any suggestive manner or lead him on: I just stop avoiding him, and I even initiate contact myself.
I IM him through the company’s IM system very professionally/politely asking if a big client will be staying on through the next project cycle, and the floodgates open. He starts sending me outrageously inappropriate IMs. I mostly don’t respond, but I occasionally keep him going by sending extremely literal responses to his innuendo-laden questions or pretending not to understand something suggestive he’s saying. Sometimes when he clarifies, I’ll outright say, “This isn’t appropriate” or “this is making me uncomfortable,” or “please don’t say things like that, Steve,” but he steamrolls right over me.
During this time, I’ve also been seeing him more in-person around the office, and he often says gross stuff to me in person as well, a lot of it not just inappropriate, but bizarre and nonsensical (“Is it legal to have a butt like that in that skirt?” Lolwut?) Every time this happens, I immediately go back to my desk and write down what he said, the date and time, and the names of any witnesses.
After about a month and change of this, I compile my creep journal with printouts of the IM conversations and take them to my HR rep. I ask to file a harassment complaint against Steve. As soon as the words “harassment” leave my mouth, my rep instantly gets the head of HR and two other reps, and they go through my evidence with me, and ask me a ton of questions.
The head of HR assures me they’ll take my complaints very seriously, and asks if I know of any women around the office who have had similar issues with Steve. I’m able to give them several names.
They send me on my way, and two weeks later, my rep formally reaches out to me and lets me know Steve has been let go. Much jubilation is had around the office!
It took a couple of months for me to piece together the whole story, but basically, after my complaint, HR started following up with the names I gave them, both the witnesses to my in-person encounters with Steve, and the other women he’d harassed.
They corroborated what I’d told HR, and then through them, word started spreading around the office that HR was conducting a harassment investigation against Steve. This emboldened at least 15 different women who’d been biting their tongues about Steve for ages to come forward and tell their own Steve stories. The worst story was from a junior staff member who Steve had assaulted at a company party the year prior.
During all of this, IT had been asked to go through Steve’s emails and IMs, and this had not only been used to validate my printouts as legitimate, but IT had found a ton of additional incriminating stuff in Steve’s correspondences.
Somewhat frustrating: Steve received an extremely generous severance package as part of his termination. But on the bright side, word got around the industry quickly, and Steve was poison at that point.
No company would touch him with a 10-foot pole. The last time I thought to snoop on his public social media pages, he was listing himself as an “independent consultant” in our industry, which I seriously doubt he’s actually doing, and based on his public FB page, he’s doing a couple of MLMs, so that should kill off whatever savings he has in short order.
I don’t work with Rob anymore, but I did recently attend his wedding! He’s extremely happy with his new wife (who is a sweet and lovely woman) and he’s doing really well in his career.”
7. Mess With My Cat? I'll Mess With Your Life
“My significant other, Hunter, loves animals, especially cats, he has 3 dogs (not all of them are his since his parents live with him) and had 3 cats until the story begins. He has a neighbor who I’ll call Jo. Jo had a wife, Mary and a daughter, Sammy, and an important fact Jo hates animals even though he has one.
Jo tried to poison my significant other’s dog twice (luckily she recovered) and then he poisoned one of his cats who sadly died and Jo bragged about it as if he had done something amazing for hurting my significant other in such a way (Hunter is known for being a tough man, like, for real, he’s really known in the city as well), when he told me what happened I knew that going to the police wouldn’t make any difference (I live in Brazil so the police here doesn’t give a darn for minor cases like that, he already tried to do so when Jo first poisoned his dog but to no avail) so I told him to get revenge.
Jo basically depends on his wife, she’s his gold mine and without her, he’s all alone, and yet he two-timed her and Hunter found that out. So, he followed him and saw Jo going at it with a lady of the night. Hunter knew that would be enough, so he learned when Jo would leave at night, Hunter planned his revenge. One day he saw Jo leaving and left as well but not without inviting Mary and Sammy (Who is already over 18) first, he said he would go to the store and asked if they wanted to come with him, they said yes and as they were going Hunter said he saw Jo taking the road that leads to this nightspot and asked if they wanted to follow him, Mary said yes without hesitation and so they did, when she saw Jo doing his business with the lady of the night she got out of the car, walked towards his car, opened the door, slapped him right across the face and yelled at him saying that everything was over and she was going to divorce him. Then she threw all his things out of her house and he went to live with her and now he’s basically her pet, and it all could be avoided if he left my significant other’s pets alone.”
6. Restaurant Owner Who Doesn't Pay Bills Gets His Life Ruined
“I am a quiet young guy (now 23) and started a small company with a few friends (about the same age). We had some common interests in IT-related work so we decided to make it official, but for us, it is more a hobby than a job (we just generate enough revenue to be at the 0$-mark end-of-year, working weekends/evenings mostly) as we all are employed in our main jobs and earn quite well despite our age (no conflict of interest).
I have a neighbor (I am living with my parents in a small village in the country-side) that manages a small non-profit youth club out of his own pocket mainly for school children to hang out on Fridays evening with their colleagues and enjoying some music and party (a room probably around 100m2 in the school building, fitted with a small bar, lights, DJ-equipment, 2kW PA system, etc).
I was helping him out to manage this youth club when I was at school and from then on. We would rent out the equipment and offer dj-ing services for birthday parties, weddings, (school) concerts, etc for quite cheap prices.
Through some colleagues of my neighbor, we got offered a gig to rent out equipment and offer dj-ing services in a restaurant. We met with the restaurant owner (Let’s call him RO) and got some backstory about the restaurant and RO.
The location of the restaurant struggled hard the last few years, as it is quite remote in the countryside. RO doesn’t have much experience in running such a restaurant, nor anything to do with running a business. He was before a ‘normal’ office worker (don’t quite remember what exactly tho) and at some point thought he can earn a salary with this restaurant (he rented it for quite a high price) by serving mainly food and some basic drinks.
He started with that about 3 months prior. The interior of the restaurant was quite old and not a lot of effort was put in to make it attractive for anyone wanting to come there. The kitchen wasn’t quite up to standards (they are quite high in the country I live in). Food was basically frozen and just heated on-demand, the ‘chef’ in the kitchen wasn’t a real chef and RO was losing a bunch of coin from running this restaurant.
RO planned to organize musical events every weekend to get more customers into the restaurant. Some weekends RO had some small one-man bands organized, another we were planned for dj-ing, etc
My neighbor and I decided to give it a try for some time and set our price (it was quite low, probably about 150$/weekend with 2 people working 6 hours two evenings). No big problem about the price, as it is also more of a hobby and not income.
After a few weeks of doing this, probably about 10 people (max probably 20) were there on average a day on weekends. That’s not a lot, the restaurant had space for 100 seats and definitely didn’t cover costs.
RO approached me after some time to ask if I (actually my own company) would be interested in creating a website for said restaurant and run some ads on social media.
I agreed – why not, we haven’t done such a thing so far, and we are willing to learn what we need to do (Of course letting him sign a small contract). In about 2 hours I had set up a small WordPress site with the menu, some pictures, etc, and hosted the site for him. For the ads, I required prepayment of the amount RO wanted to invest into it, just for safety.
The total of this job was probably around 500$ (100 for ads already paid), but then when we sent him an invoice he mentioned that he had difficulties with paying it. I agreed to a payment of 200$ and the rest can be paid over time by the RO.
At some point, we heard that RO actually ‘lent out’ 50K$ from the ‘chef’ he ‘hired’ (he didn’t get paid for working there) to help to pay the bills.
Even the one waitress working there hasn’t been paid since she started working there. Also, the payments for our gigs were getting delayed for some time by RO.
A bit concerned about this, m y neighbor and I continued with the gigs, knowing that we probably won’t get paid. One evening RO approached me again to ask if I (in the name of my own company) can help out with some technical stuff at his home.
Sure I did prepay, 40$/hr (still very cheap) for setting up some e-mail, fixing some printer issue, etc at his flat. When I saw RO’s desk I was blown away from what I saw there all around: Hundreds of unpaid invoices, bills, reminders (including 3rd reminder to pay some bills), etc. that weren’t small things (for ex: reminders for rent of restaurant and his own flat, internet, mobile phone, even federal reminders).
I finished the job, went to my neighbor to tell him what I have seen in RO’s flat.
After that, my neighbor and I decided to decline any further gigs that were planned, and I (in the name of my own company) declined any further work RO requests and send some reminders for our still open invoice (200$). We didn’t get any moolah from RO after that but wasn’t hurting too much as it was just some free time I spent creating the website.
After some time I took the website and email server offline for the restaurant.
I and my neighbor did some further investigation on RO and found quite some interesting things: RO had tried to run two restaurants before, but failed miserably and had to file for bankruptcy, RO hadn’t registered the current restaurant as business, RO doesn’t have a license to sell drinks in the restaurant, and some other details.
We also had some talks with the ‘chef’ of his restaurant that lent RO those 50K$, and we advised him to ask for his coin back from RO, and take legal advice / go to court for claiming his moolah because otherwise it may be gone completely (if not already).
With those pieces of evidence, we started to write some anonymous reports to federal administrations: Tax office, Trade office, Health department, employment exchange, etc.
And then we waited.
A few days later it started: Different departments were inspecting and searching his restaurant (and of course had to close it), searched his flat for files about the illegal business, questioned the ‘chef’ and the waitress, and finally, RO got arrested.
I couldn’t really follow up what actually happened after that with RO (because of the anonymous tips, and I was away from real-live for a year, military service), I only know that his wife left him, some money was paid back to the ‘chef’ and the waitress (from his retirement funds) and I think RO ended up in jail for some years, but not sure how long.
I (from the side of my own company) didn’t bother to try getting the money RO owed us, as it simply wasn’t a big deal and amount for us, as well as I and my neighbor, didn’t really bother either for getting some money. Seeing him go down and have his life ruined was more than enough for us as a ‘payment’.”
5. Taxi Driver Thought He Got Away From A Hit And Run
“So it was December last year, already dark out, and I was driving home after work. At that time I drove a very recognizable pos car of around 600usd, self piped with pretty nice wrapping and godawful bright red mudflaps. (I have grown since)
I was overtaking a car when the mentioned taxi was driving up my rear, too close for comfort while flashing his high beams to try to get me out of his way.
I am not easily impressed by this behavior, and once I had overtaken the car, I moved to the right, he passed me, swerved in front of me, and break-checked me. I played on the horn, he sped off, and I thought that was the end of it.
A minute later, he was stuck behind a slow car on the left, and I was nearly beside him.
Without warning, he turned on his blinker, and swerved into my lane, in what I assume was an attempt to get me to rear-end him, but I failed and clipped my front left side instead. We both pulled over, and as soon as we stopped he came up to me shouting, discriminating, and threatening me.
I stayed pretty calm but was pretty shook, especially after all the nonsense he was sprouting.
I was reaching for an insurance firm, when he decided to get back in his car and drive away, nearly hitting another car.
At that moment I decided to get back at him. What I knew and he didn’t, is that I have a dashcam, and it was pretty well hidden. I contacted my brother-in-law for damage estimated (he works in a garage, and helps me maintain my car) and visited him later that evening.
I also contacted the police and scheduled an appointment to get him charged for hit and run, threatening, and discrimination.
Thanks to my in-law the damage ended up being close to 800usd, with spray work and hours. I got his number plate in full HD on my dashcam and contacted his insurance. The guy was smart enough to deny being involved, but after reviewing the footage, the moolah was quickly deposited in my account.
This was in February. In June I got contacted by the police. Their investigation has ended, and they found the suspect. I will be contacted later for a court date. He will face a hefty fine and may be banned from driving for a period of time.
In short, his decision to run away cost him his premiums, and maybe cost him more cash, and his job as a taxi driver.”
4. Mock My Job And Say You Can Do It Better? Get Your Finger Burned
“This happened in about 2002. I was in a subprogram where I had a paid part-time job during school hours where I was a dishwasher at a local elementary school. I would wash mostly those colored plastic-eating trays, and then whatever the cooks used to cook with. And kids frequently volunteered to bring me trays on carts so I or the cooks wouldn’t have to get them myself.
Which was nice of them.
One day when I was just loading trays into the huge industrial dishwasher, some mean kid in a red shirt who looked about 8 years old brought me a cart of trays. Then just stood there and stared at me for a while. I asked what he wanted and he asked me how much I earn. So I told him. Then he started talking about how he could do my job better, how much faster he’d be than me, how much cooler he’d look doing it, and how much more he could make, ETC.
At that point, I was struck with an evil idea and said ‘Oh really? Can you do this?’ I then put my un-gloved hand flat on the washer, which was very hot stainless steel. But I was used to it after touching it so many times while doing that job for months.
The kid scoffed and said, ‘Of course I can do that!’. Then he put just one finger on the washer and said ‘I don’t feel any-AAAHH!!’ He grasped his finger in pain and rain out of the kitchen crying. I never saw him again.
I’m pretty sure the cooks saw what happened too, and just didn’t say anything because that kid was a little jerk and got what he deserved.”
3. Hack My Friend's Account? Get Permanently Banned
“I used to play games online with some close friends (had to stop due to IRL and mental health issues). We all had our own way of acting around each other and towards other people in the game. I used to be the group’s goody-two-shoes who never did anything wrong. I never did trashtalk or insult, tried to be as nice and respectable as possible, and never rage quit because I wanted to have fun and chill out the most after a hard day.
Throughout the time, I met this other friend. Let’s call him Lucas. He was the complete opposite of me. He was a pro at insulting, badmouthing, targeting, and bullying… that it honestly surprised me how we ended up being buddies. Whenever he created a room, I’d receive his invitation to join. Even if I just logged in to play, he’d invite me out of nowhere. And when we played together, he’d made sure that we were the last people alive for us to duel against each other.
It’s as if we were best buddies or if I was his only friend or something since he was highly hated on the server.
Then enters Jerkwad. He’s just as bad of a person as Lucas is, if not even worse. As if the other behaviors weren’t enough, he also threatened people, saying that he could ruin them online, outside of the game (a.k.a. social media). Since knowing other people personally wasn’t typical in that game, I honestly couldn’t know if he was joking or if that was possible, so I had my cautions whenever I spoke to him.
Lucas, on the other hand… boy, he didn’t give two poops. Both of them bickered so much, it felt like it was a warzone when we were playing in the same room. Out of 8 players (the max a room was capable to afford), they fought each other even if someone else hit them. But it was just playing so nothing serious happened.
Until that certain day.
We were together in the room, in a group of four people: Me, Lucas, Jerkwad, and another random player. Both decided to bet their accounts in a best of 3. Instead of creating a duel room, they wanted a witness so that’s why I was there. Although I served little purpose since I didn’t watch their fight and played against the random guy in the room, Lucas won the bet (don’t know if it was fair and square) so Jerkwad had to give his account up.
On the next day, I logged in and saw that Lucas was logged in. Weirdly, he didn’t invite me immediately but I start playing nonetheless. Usually, he’d chat with me if we weren’t gaming together but he stood quiet all day long. I even asked him if everything was OK, but he just ignored me and didn’t respond. Since I had him on Skype, I questioned him there and the answer he gave me was that he wasn’t even playing at that time.
He tried to access his account and wasn’t able to, no matter what he did. Turns out that Jerkwad hacked Lucas’ account and took it for him as if he won the bet.
When we discovered this, I immediately told him to go to the GMs and tell them what happened. Problem is, we had no proof to corroborate the accusation and the chances of it being ignored were tremendous.
But Lucas told me to not do anything and leave it to him. He’d find a way to get back his account and make Jerkwad’s life miserable. So I stepped back and let the flames go forth.
Wait, let me rephrase that. It wasn’t just flames. It was pure lava flowing out of a volcano.
His revenge started by creating a new account. Since I wasn’t told anything, I didn’t even know about it when he returned to play with his new account.
While I was kept in the dark, he began to act friendly (with his teeth gritting) with Jerkwad. He even took the insults spewed at him and didn’t reply just so he wouldn’t be found out. Eventually, he got inside Jerkwad’s circle of friends and was put in a new group. New, but horrible group.
Lucas discovered that Jerkwad had a group of friends that were hacking accounts and selling them for coin.
They used this ‘bet’ approach and began their hacking from there onwards. They managed to hack some good accounts, ones with a lot of the game’s best weapons at the time. He was fuming and got really angry with the whole scheme, but ate his own anger to carry out the plan.
First things first, he needed to recover his own account before messing everything up. He tried to plead for HIS account to get it for free or with a DISCOUNT.
Unfortunately, he HAD to pay for the account that was HIS in the first place. The price back then was settled at BRL 100,00 (roughly $ 28,34) with the ‘friend’ discount. It might seem cheap, but it isn’t. And it’s wrong.
Once he did that, he started to collect the necessary evidence for the GMs. He managed to get their usernames (by asking sympathetically so he wouldn’t forget), the list of the accounts they were aiming to get next (mine included), and even asked how to do it himself in order to ‘help’ them.
All of this was to make sure he wouldn’t miss any details on how to do it.
The fallout? Ladies and gentlemen, it was a gloriously planned downward spiral.
Occasionally, the GMs posted users who were banned, the ban type, and the reason for the ban in the first place. On the day they posted, I looked at it and saw Jerkwad’s account with an IP PERMABAN! Yes, he was banned permanently through the founded accusation of illegal account hacking and transaction.
I. Was. Shocked. The guy turned out to be a criminal scumbag this whole time.
Lucas later told me about it and he finally explained everything to me. From beginning to end. I had no words to even respond. It was just… wow. The guy went into a crafty revenge plan to actually reveal what happened outside the scenes and managed to win in the end.
And you want to know the best part?
He revealed himself to Jerkwad and his friends.
He showed me pics (unfortunately, I lost them in my old phones) of the reveal and I could just laugh. Jerkwad was so furious, so blazing that he swore to get revenge on Lucas for what he did as my friend just laughed his life out like a maniac and taunted him to try it again.
Another friend of mine, who was close to the GMs, told me that Jerk tried to create new accounts using different IPs, emails but was still banned all of those times. Not just for hacking, but other issues.
It was somewhat amazing to know that all of this was unveiled right under everyone’s nose. Sadly, the game closed and I lost contact with Lucas. But if I did, I’d definitely reminisce this story all over again.”
2. My Comeback Went On For Years
“This happened about 33 years ago, in the days before the Internet. There was me, Tom, my friend Liam, his sister Carol and a friend of Liam’s called Phil. It was a weekend and I was at Liam’s house. The phone rang and Liam’s mood changed as soon as he answered the call. It was the local Police questioning my friend about a supposed crime and my friend’s involvement.
The Police officer’s name he gave was one my friend had dealings with in the past, so you could see the worry on his face. He was one of those vindictive officers who would fit you up for something you didn’t do. It was his friend Phil who thought it would be funny to prank Liam.
After ending the call you could see the relief on his face.
That is when Liam, myself, and Carol hatched our revenge plan. We went to our local shop and bought every trashy Sunday Newspaper and Magazine we could find. We knew Phil’s address, so we cut out every coupon we could find to send off for product catalogs, free samples, etc.
In those days many of these were Freepost so it didn’t cost anything to send them and paying for those that weren’t Freepost only cost a few pence per item. The revenge went on for years! Once these companies have your details they never stop mailing you. He was annoyed! The postman must have hated it too, I feel sorry for him/her. Not Phil though.”
1. You Want Me To Replace Your Phone? I'll Cut Off All Your Money
“My sister and her significant other have just moved out and are pregnant. I help them out a little by paying a bit of pet insurance and offering to buy her car for more than it’s worth so she can get one to fit her kid in. She has a decent job that they can live off but her significant other lives off the state so moolah is tight as she has to provide for 3 people when the kid is born.
So we (me and sister’s significant other) went out on a drive cause we were bored and to meet some mates. We sit at a car park by a busy road and I turn my engine off. We all have a session and sit there for 20 mins. Anyway I go to turn my car back on but the battery has died and I don’t know how to jump-start a car so my sister’s significant other gets out and the door doesn’t fully latch.
We get the car started and he stands outside. My car alerts me to an open door by keeping my interior light on so I check my door and it doesn’t go off. Now, remember when I told you the door didn’t latch well I open the door and slams it shut and it sounded like catching the belt buckle in the door so I try it again and it didn’t close.
As I looked down I could see a smashed phone and screen so I called him over. His mood changed and he got annoyed so I told him I will sort something out not telling him I’m only prepared to give him half cause it’s a joint liability.
Well, here comes the revenge I told my sister a few months back that I will buy her car for 6k (worth about 4.5k) and I agree to pay for her puppy’s first year of animal insurance.
I give him lifts everywhere to help him try and get a job and also give them access to my Netflix.
After the threats I received and how much of a lazy jerk he is, got fed up and told them that I’m going to replace his £600 phone but I’m not going to buy their car and pay them generously for it so they can get a suitable replacement for their kid and dog. I told them I’m not going to pay their first year of pet insurance and cut off the only streaming site they have access to and I’m going to stop driving him to places to find employment.”