It may seem like an immature way of communicating, but passive-aggressiveness can come in handy at times. You know those moments when being too direct could land you in bigger trouble than necessary, but you still want to get your point across? Or, maybe you just want to look like sly smarty pants while you’re getting a bit of revenge on someone? Those are the times we gravitate towards passive-aggressive behavior.
Whether one comes up with a devious plan to secretly foil their foe’s day or create a minor inconvenience for them, makes a snarky yet indirect response at their enemy to point out their stupidity, goes the extra mile to stare down their rival during a humiliating moment (like in the case of farting on an airplane in Story 25) to ensure they’re left with sheer embarrassment, or even tells a story relatable to their nemesis out loud within earshot to send them an ambiguous memo; it’s all considered passive aggression. Sometimes passive-aggressiveness is so indirect and vague that the victim doesn’t even know what’s going on. This occurs in Story 24 where an annoyed employee shakes up a customer’s jar of sauerkraut in secret when they complained that the inside of the jar contained tiny black spots.
There, problem solved!
Trust me, there are plenty more great passive aggression stories where that came from:
44. Snickering Over Snickers
“I teach in a middle school. We have custodians who work staggered shifts, with a few beginning work before the school opens, and a few who work about four hours after the rest of us leave for the day. I am almost always one of the last teachers to leave due to my job.
We have teachers who leave candy in their rooms for rewards (I truly hate that strategy), others who make use of the refrigerators in the workrooms to store their lunches or leftovers, and me, who happens to have an office separate from my classroom where I can keep my stuff fairly secure.
A few years ago, some of the teachers start sending out emails complaining that their lunches were disappearing from the staff lounges. Not long after, a few more start complaining about candy or food taken from their classrooms. One morning, I opened my office to see things that had been in my desk strewn across the floor, and a granola bar wrapper in the otherwise empty trash can.
Before leaving work that afternoon, I saw both evening custodians talking together in the hall. I walked up and told them I didn’t appreciate whichever one of them was stealing my food. There were two locked doors between everyone else and my stuff, so only someone with a key could steal from me.
I mentioned they both had jobs and buy their own stuff.
Stealing is wrong.
Knock it off.
They both stammered ‘It wasn’t me.’ But the next morning my stash had been hit again. Fine.
One of my brothers-in-law loves hot sauce. He used to put it on everything. I once tried to give him a sauce made from ghost peppers and habaneros. He tasted a drop, and said it was just too hot, so he gave it back. That bottle just sat at home, waiting to be useful.
I bought a candy bar. Snickers, because…poetic justice. They have a flap on the bottom of the wrapper where they are sealed, with the flap folded over to lay flat.
I also bought a small bag of insulin syringes.
Before leaving work I sucked a few drops of hot sauce into a syringe. I carefully pierced the candy bar wrapper just at the crease under the flap. Three drops at each end. A few more in the middle. Into my desk drawer goes the bar, and I’m headed home for the evening. I snickered the whole trip, because I like symmetry.
The next day there is a nasty half-chewed piece of chocolatey-peanuty goo in my trash can. The rest of the bar had been thrown across my office. One of the evening custodians didn’t come to work that day.
Stomach-flu, which kept him out for three days. Something about explosive diarrhea and severe stomach cramps. That custodian left our building not long after, and I have never had anything disappear from my room again.” James Kuczero
43. Cut In Front Of Me In Line? Enjoy Mystery Items In Your Shopping Cart
“I’m British. I know how to queue.
So I was in a supermarket once, in the middle of a queue which went all the way around a corner. A woman came up and pushed in in front of me as I got to the ninety-degree bend.
She didn’t mistake it for the start of the queue, it wasn’t that kind of corner.
The wall was actually a waist-high parade of baskets full of impulse-buys, like chocolates and so on, as shops are accustomed to display near the checkouts.
I could hear mutters and tuts from behind me but, of course, I couldn’t say anything directly (cf. British) so I started picking things off the shelves every time she wasn’t looking and put them in her cart.
I started off small, like with a bag of chips. People quickly caught on to what I was doing and I heard a few of the mutters change to noises of approval.
I ended up managing to put an entire umbrella in there.
That got widespread laughter from the shop behind me but the woman was oblivious.
I rushed through the self-service tills as she went to a conventional human-powered checkout. She was clearly not paying attention because I was nearly out of the shop when I heard her say, ‘Where the f*ck did that come from?'” Ben Sinclair
Another User Comments:
“I call that abandoned cart syndrome. I work in large grocery stores all day and these abandoned carts are always in my way. Once I got even by slipping a tube of hemorrhoid cream in the cart. I wonder what they thought of that when they got home!” Jeff Truax
42. FYI, My 6-Year-Old Son Has Better Manners Than You
And that says a lot.
“At her dinner party, along with a delicious meal, my friend offered a variety of beverages, including a regular and light beer, a red and white wine, a popular cola, iced tea, and water.
When she asked a male guest what he would like to drink, he asked for a beer. She asked if he would prefer brand X or brand Y light. He asked, ‘Don’t you have brand z?’ No. Sorry. So he asked for cola P. She had cola C. He settled for the Y light, then loudly complained to his wife that they should have brought their own, and maybe he would go home and get some. (I will note here that as a bartender I often referred to his brand as ‘the crap you have to add citrus to help you gag it down.’)
Well, wifey cooed at him until he settled down and decided to join the other guests in conversation, punctuated with occasional mutterings about looking forward to a good beer.
Really, he did not even try to be discreet about it.
Dinner conversation went here and there, as it tends to do. Eventually, it rolled around to children and the unexpected things they say. The opportunity was perfect so I shared this story:
‘I’ll never forget a time when he (my son Jake) was about 6 years old and my in-laws were over for dinner. We had been working on his table manners and he was doing pretty well. I held out a bowl of potatoes to my mother-in-law and asked if she would like some. She said she didn’t like them and only ate baked potatoes.
It was the texture and blah blah…Jake stopped her and said, ‘Gramma, the correct answer is either no thank you or yes please.’
There was laughter followed by a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence, then a subject change.
Since then I have been at several parties that this couple also attended and have witnessed no repeat offense.” Heidi Hodges
41. Awe Man, I Dropped Your Milkshakes In The Trash By “Mistake”
“I work in management at a convenience store, and I deal politely with all manner of rude customers. That being said, I’ll never forget this one.
It’s a weekend and we have a sale running on milkshakes, any size for $1.99.
10 milkshakes plus other food items pop up.
My employee begins making them and slams her hand in the very heavy ice drawer. I send the other manager and her to the back to deal with her injury and am running the busy kitchen by myself, and people have to wait longer for their orders. Most customers are extremely pleasant and understanding, but I see a couple getting agitated and they come over and ask when their milkshakes will be done. I respond that I am doing things in order, and I will be starting their drinks in a few minutes.
When I finally start their milkshakes, they come over to yell at me again.
‘I mean what’s going on? Are you making the G-D ice cream from scratch back there?’
‘Again, I’m very sorry, I have an employee who may have just broken her hand and the other manager is dealing with that situation.’
‘Are you trying to say that THAT’S more important than paying customers?!?!?’
I had just finished making their two milkshakes.
‘Yes, I am.’
Customer: ‘Girl, don’t you mouth off to me!’
At this point, I was beyond p*ssed. I pick up their milkshakes, show them they are finished, and drop them in the nearest trash can. ‘I’m so sorry, I can so be clumsy sometimes.’ I run over to the register and grab a $5 bill.
‘I apologize for the circumstances, but I JUST ran out of all the ingredients to make any more milkshakes! Here’s your money back plus a little extra, please take it and NEVER come back to this store.’
With much cursing and name-calling and threats to call my corporate office, they storm out of the store. I offer all the other customers in the store a coupon for everything they have seen/dealt with/patiently waited through.
I wait for the phone call from corporate for my write up, but it never comes…guess they realized they had no legs to stand on.
I have so many stories, but this one sticks out like a sore thumb.” Amie Dean
40. You Want A Chain For Your Birdhouse? Do You Want A Bird With That Too, Sir?
“My father returned a birdhouse kit to the store because it did not have the chain to hang it, as pictured on the box.
‘I think it’s shameful that I have to come all this way because a simple part is missing.’
The returns lady -a crusty old gal- looks at the box, which does indeed show the birdhouse hanging from a chain, attached to the branch of a tree.
It even shows a bird on the perch under the hole in the front of the birdhouse.
She looks at the box, looks at my father.
‘Well?’ said Dad.
‘Hey mister,’ she croaked sourly, ‘This also shows a picture of a bird on the box. You gonna complain because there’s no bird in the kit, either?’
I had to turn away, in mirth.
Her response was definitely a bit rude and smart-aleck. But it was damned funny, too.
A nearby manager, spying the encounter, drifted over and quietly asked me what was happening.
I steered him away, whispering, ‘You’re not going to believe this sh*t, but…’ and told him the story.
He, too, found it hilarious.
Then he said, ‘C’mon; grab your dad and let’s go cut him a length of chain.’ I summoned father with a wave, and we three went to the chain department, where the manager cut off a 3-foot section of gold decorative chain made of interlocked ovals – exactly like the one on the box.
‘With our compliments, Mr. Geare,’ he added. ‘And if you’d like, I can try to catch one of the pigeons up on the porch roof.’
By then, father had realized how truly amusing this whole incident really was, and he declined the bird capture, chuckling.
We even had a kind exchange with the returns lady, who did apologize for being a bit snippy.
All was well.” John Geare
Another User Comments:
“What? There’s no tree in the box either?
Great story!!! And fantastic customer service by that manager.” Jeff Hawkins
39. A Little Common Sense Would Have Helped Him
“As a Canadian teenager, I worked at Tim Horton’s. This is a chain of fast-food restaurants that serves mainly coffee and snacks.
Many of our customers are gruff, grumpy, caffeine-addicted men. I was the typical, perky, cheerful teenaged girl cashier.
I loved that job because I was REALLY good at it; efficient and fast.
Mr. Grumpy comes in one day and interrupts my friendly greeting with an abrupt, ‘Two medium, one black, one with milk.’ I pour his coffees, lid them, and promptly place them on the counter. I did this quickly, deliberately omitting the step of using a white pencil to mark the lids, which we normally do to indicate which was which.
He looked at his cups, then looked at me like I was an idiot, and sarcastically asked, ‘How am I supposed to know which is which?’
With an almost imperceptible jerk of my wrists, I moved the cups enough that a tiny drop appeared on the lid of each cup through the vent hole.
One drop was definitely black, the other clearly contained milk.
‘Would you like me to write it down for you, sir?’ I asked, smiling politely.
‘Nope, that’ll be fine, thanks.’ He paid me the 2.20 and left. Still gruff, but I think I detected a tiny flicker of amusement in his eyes.” Jane SR
38. You Want To Change Lanes? Here, Let Me Make It Easier For You
“If there’s one thing that irritates me immensely, it’s tailgating.
You know, when the car behind you wants you to make room for him (sorry guys, it usually IS a ‘him’ and sorry, German car manufacturers, it usually IS a BMW, Audi or Mercedes) so he can continue his way undisturbed by morons like you that actually follow speed limitations…
So one fine day I was driving a two-lane highway near the place where I live and as I was slowly passing a long two-trailer truck, the car behind already from a considerable distance started flashing his headlights, ‘Here I come, get out of my way you snail, I want to keep speeding…!’ It didn’t help him it was a Mercedes…
My first reaction when this happens to me is to slow down, at least to the extent that the tailgater needs to brake at least once not to hit me, only then to slowly give way.
This time, the situation of being in the process of passing the truck left more options open to really passive-aggressively annoy the pits out of the guy.
I had almost finished passing the truck when my tailgater arrived at my car so I decided to slow down to a speed only a few km/h less than the truck I was passing. As a result, I now started slowly backing towards the end of the truck, causing the guy behind me to flash his lights even more frantically and to become increasingly agitated and showing so with wild gestures behind the wheel. I seriously wondered why he was doing so because I was obviously doing my utmost best to comply with his demand to make way for him to pass both me and the truck :-p.
Arriving at the end of the truck, I did what I usually do and slowly gave way for the now red-headed Mercedes driver going completely ballistic. As he passed me, I gave him my friendliest smile and gestured with my hand he had now all the space available to him to continue his journey. He didn’t consider me worthy of even a short look, let alone a nod of appreciation for all the work I did for him.
Ungrateful b*stard…” Guy Verrijdt
37. They Stopped Bashing My Religion Once I Started Carrying Witchcraft Books
She might still be the talk of the school, but it sure isn’t to her face anymore.
“This was ages ago. I transferred to a brand-new Baptist high school in Memphis. For those of you that have seen the movie, it’s the same school that the young black football player went to, who was adopted by a rich white family. Anyway, the school opened, and there were a bunch of kids who decided to be self-appointed missionaries to those of us who were not Baptist, and therefore, going straight to h*ll.
Here in America, the different flavors of Christianity hinge upon tiny differences in doctrine and belief that appear bewilderingly small to someone outside the system, but are GIANT AND IMPORTANT to believers.
Not only was I not Baptist, but I was Episcopalian (one tiny step away from Rome).
The Evangelizers were bullies. Not just annoying, they were HUGE bullies. They would not stop, even when you asked nicely. And, they didn’t think twice about lying to the kids they were talking to. This made me more than a bit angry. So, being a thinking child (I was 15), I went to the library.
For about a week, I carried around and ostentatiously read, a couple of books on witchcraft. That’s all. Didn’t speak of witchcraft, didn’t espouse any weirdness, just carried books around. It worked.
It was as if I had a force field around me. They never bothered me again in the 3 years I was there.” Kathleen Tronsor
Another User Comments:
“I was raised Evangelical. But I was also raised with the understanding that those teeny, tiny differences in doctrine, the ones that were oh-so-this-is-the-hill-we-die-on important to others, were walls that divided the faith.
Baptist? You’re my brother. Episcopalian? You’re my sister. Presbyterian, Four Square, S.A.D., Catholic, Orthodox, Mormon….you’re welcome at my table. Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Wiccan/Neo-Pagan, Atheist….come inside and break bread with me. We’re all human beings, and we allow too much to divide us.
I’m sorry these jackholes gave you such a hard time. Seems like Jesus had barely disappeared into the clouds before people started fighting over doctrine. I can only imagine him watching Christians committing acts of violence and intolerance ‘in his name’ and going, ‘…WTF guys, have you even read a single word that I said?? Holy crap! KNOCK IT OFF!!'” Carrie W. Thurmond
36. I Kept Standing In Line After She Dismissed Me Until I Got What I Asked For
“In 1997 I had been living in Switzerland for several months when I needed to take a plane trip. In those two months, I had been subjected to some of the worst customer service I had ever seen.
I just didn’t get Swiss people at all and I was getting frustrated. (spoiler alert: I get along fine with most Swiss now, but there is technique involved).
Anyway, I had reserved the ticket online, specifying that I would pay for it in cash. When I got to the SwissAir (remember them?) counter, I handed over my credit card. The clerk told me no, I had to pay in cash. WTF? I tried to argue, but to no avail. That’s when I snapped (and/or became truly Swiss, you decide).
‘So I need to go down that corridor, down two floors, walk 300 meters to the train station, take 1200 francs out of the Credit Suisse ATM, bring it back here, and stand in line again?’
‘Okay,’ I said.
And just stood there. No expression on my face. Just stood there. With people piling up behind me. Stood there.
Her face squinched up. She started typing. Thirty seconds later I had my boarding pass. I floated onto the plane.
Here’s the thing about Switzerland. If a Swiss person takes responsibility for something, it’s going to happen. Period. As a consequence, some people work very hard to avoid taking responsibility in the first place. Arguing, getting mad, yelling strengthen this avoidance. As does any show of weakness or pleading. Silence gives that sense of responsibility time to work.” Kent Beck
35. We All Know You Were The One Who Farted
“I was on a flight with my wife.
We were on the absolute last seat. There was another family of 3 sitting diagonally across from us.
The aisle seat in our row was empty. This has happened very few times for us and I was excited about traveling comfortably for the 6-hour flight! But the father of this other family notices the empty seat and even before the flight takes off, comes sits right next to us in that empty aisle seat. (As soon as the door lock announcement was made).
I was understandably upset. Maybe his wife told him to park his ass next to us so she and the kid are more comfortable.
Just so that you know I am not being an a**hole to a family with a kid, it was a kid and not a Baby… 10 – 12 years old at the minimum.
Anyways I am upset and p*ssed off… But I decide to forget about it and move on…
Then a minute later… I smell something nasty… It was a fart! In an airplane on the last middle seat with the fans not working… We were suffering …
It was the longest-lasting fart smell of my life… After about 10 minutes after the dust (smell) from the first fart settled… There was another strong whiff of the same smell… This time I f***ing heard the fart too… This happened a few more times and I lost it…
When it happened next, I picked up the safety card from the front pocket and started waving it like a fan around my face… It gave intermittent relief from the strongest fart smell of my life.
People around me were also pretty fed up and followed my lead, using the safety card as a face fan…
I looked at him while doing that… O yes I did… After the 100th fart…
At this point, he was pretty embarrassed … Finally !!
He gets up… Gets his lazy as* to the restroom… Comes back and sits next to his wife and the farting is further and less… And the remaining 5 hours of our flight were heaven compared to the first one!!” Quora user
34. Worried About Black Spots Inside Your Jar Of Sauerkraut? I’ll Just Shake It Up
She’ll be upset when the black spots reappear when the jar sits in her fridge or pantry, but at least she doesn’t know for now.
“It was the day before Thanksgiving at our grocery warehouse and we were insanely busy. I was boxing groceries as fast as I could and trying to keep up with my cashier.
Most people were in a decent mood despite the crowds and long lines, but then an older woman pulled up in an electric cart. She was loud, angry about her wait and wanted everyone around her to know she was upset.
I was packing a large jar of sauerkraut into her cart when she noticed a black spot inside the jar. She demanded a new one immediately. Now, keep in mind that a lot of our jarred sauerkraut was discolored like that and I had been told that it was completely normal and fine to eat.
I nicely explained to the lady that I would gladly get her a new jar, but they almost all had spots like that. She came unglued and yelled that someone like me may be used to eating ‘sh*t like that,’ but that she was clearly used to a higher standard and to ‘fetch’ her a new one RIGHT NOW.
I was flustered, red in the face and pretty ticked off. But I smiled sweetly, picked up the jar and walked back towards the food aisles. As soon as I was out of sight, I gave the jar a good shake so that the offending spot was no longer visible.
I then carried it back and placed it with her other groceries.
She actually had the nerve to turn to the cashier and say, ‘Well, at least she’s speedy!’ I sure am, lady. Enjoy.” Jennifer Ward
33. No Dogs On The Beach
“I used to walk my dog every morning, on the beach in my town, until the year they put up a sign saying we couldn’t walk our dogs from May 15th to September 15th. I, and my little corgi/yellow lab would walk with a friend who had 2 small Papillons, around 8 a.m. every morning, regardless of the weather. (unless it was raining cats and dogs…or we were having a Nor’Easter) It was May 17th….and drizzling out.
There didn’t seem to be anyone else on the beach, and my friend and I walked our dogs as usual. It wasn’t like there were a ton of beach-goers, especially since it was early in the season, and the weather was ugly, at best. And it was 8 o’clock in the morning.
All of a sudden, this frumpy looking woman came out of the dunes and started yelling at us. As she approached, we finally could hear what she was saying. She walked up to us and screamed, ‘you DO know that there are no dogs are allowed on the beach!’
I looked at my friend, who is very meek and mild-mannered and then at the woman who was so furious and asked her to repeat her statement.
‘You DO know that there are no dogs allowed on the beach!’ she screamed again.
I looked at her and asked, ‘then…what are YOU doing here?’
She left in a huff and we continued our walk. I felt just awful, for what I’d said…..for about 12 seconds.” Claudia Gale
32. Stealing Is A Crime, You Know
“A small thing, but satisfying.
So, I used to drink a lot of Diet Coke but the machines at work only had Pepsi (disgusting!) so I kept a 12-pack of cans in my desk. Each morning, I’d go put one in the shared fridge and when I went to get it, I’d replace it with another.
Always a chilled DC in the fridge.
And then one disappeared. Hmnn.
Maybe someone just thought it was the same unclaimed DC in there all day, so they took it because it was abandoned. No big. I replaced it.
It disappeared again. The plot thickens. Maybe they thought it was theirs? I replaced it but marked a big red X across the top in a whiteboard marker.
It disappeared too. This was theft! Outright, bold, shameless theft! I was angrier than I probably should be over a Coke, but they were mine! And I had to drink it warm now!
So, I replaced it again. New Diet Coke in the fridge.
But this time, I shook it up. I mean, like a paint can at Home Depot I shook it up. Then I had to go to a meeting.
When I walked by the fridge again, there was a very satisfying dark brown stain about three feet across on the carpet in the hallway. SCORE!” Myra Scott
Another User Comments:
“What an awesome idea….really smart.
Did the stealing stop?” Sindhu Mahadevan
“Never lost another Diet Coke. It’s a really big office, so I never figured out who it was–they were probably in another section.” Myra Scott
31. Be Racist Against One Of Our Doctors? I’ll Indirectly Point It Out To You
“I was a receptionist in a doctor’s office (OBGYN) in California in 2002, less than 1 year after 9/11.
A woman calls in to make an appointment for her yearly physical exam, and she wants the soonest available appointment.
Me: (Searches schedule for a bit to find a slot) ‘Well, the first availability I have is with Dr. Tukenmez this Thursday, actually, so we could get you in this week!’
Patient:’ Oh, um, Tukenmez? Do you have any appointments with any other doctors?’
Me: ‘Well, the only appointments this week are with Dr.
Tukenmez, the other MDs are booked out for about a month.’ (Dr. Tukenmez was new to the practice so she didn’t have a lot of established patients yet, thus her earlier availability)
Patient: ‘Well… I just… I would rather have another doctor.
Because, you know, I’m from NYC (code for ‘I don’t want a doctor with a middle eastern sounding name because I’m afraid they’re all terrorists and I get a special privilege to be racist because I’m from NYC, even though I was living in CA when 9/11 happened’).’
Me: ‘What a coincidence! Dr. Tukenmez is from NYC too, she was born and raised there.
And actually, she’s an American citizen, and her family is Turkish-American; she’s not Iraqi or Afghani or Saudi…’
Patient: ‘Well… that doesn’t really matter… so I guess… when is your soonest appointment with another doctor? Because like I said, I’m from NYC.’
Me: ‘(At this point I’m super triggered by her racism so I decided to be sarcastic) Well, we have an opening in 4 weeks with Dr.
Goldman. He’s Jewish though. Do you have a problem with Jews, too?’
Woman: ‘(pause)… um, no, that will be fine.’
Me: ‘Ok, he has an appointment on X date at 2 pm.’
Woman: ‘(sounding chastened) Ok. I’ll take that one.
It felt incredibly satisfying to say that. I know it was unprofessional. But I hope she felt ashamed.” Lia Goloff
30. Here’s Your D*mn Biscuit! In the Meantime, I’ll Tend To My Other Customers
All that yelling over 10 cent-worth biscuit, only to not even consume it…
“I was working at Denny’s at the time, and I had just walked in (still carrying my purse; not even wearing an apron) when my manager started telling me to get to my section because I had a customer—he was just coming back from seating her.
I was ten minutes early, but whatever. I went and clocked in, tossed my bag in a cabinet, and was on my way to her table, still tying my apron, less than a minute later.
I started to greet her, but she interrupted to complain that she’d been sitting there for 10 minutes already and is this how we treat customers now? Since I knew for a fact she hadn’t been there more than 2, I knew this was going to be a really fun guest. Nevertheless, I apologized (because arguing with these people gets you nowhere), and started to take her order.
As I was walking away, she actually shouted at me, ‘And don’t forget my free biscuits!’
I’m sure you can guess what I found when I went into the kitchen and checked the biscuit warmer.
Lots and lots of nothing, except for one stale old biscuit that had been in there long enough to get crunchy. Clearly not edible.
I asked the cook how long until more (45 minutes) and made sure to go back to her immediately to let her know that the biscuits had just run out and it would be quite a while before there were more. She called me a liar and demanded her biscuits.
I sighed and went to help someone else.
A few minutes later I brought her her salad. Another demand for biscuits. Then I brought her food. She practically screamed at me this time as I explained, yet again, that it would be another 25 minutes at least before the biscuits were cooked.
She pointed to another table. ‘They have biscuits!’
‘No, they don’t. Because there are no biscuits. No one has biscuits.’
‘They do! I can see them! And you’re just a filthy, lazy liar!’
I’m pretty sure she said some other nastiness at my back as I walked away, but I was truly too p*ssed to listen.
I went to the warmer, grabbed the ancient biscuit (no, no one at Denny’s ever cleans up anything, sorry) and put it on a plate. Then I went to her table and slammed it down on the table beside her drink.
‘Here is your biscuit. It is literally the only biscuit in the godd*mned store because we are out of biscuits and no amount of yelling will make the oven work faster.
Please enjoy.’ I dropped her check at the same time and walked away, refusing to make eye contact with her for the rest of her meal as I went on serving my other customers.
After she left, my manager called me over. ‘That lady was shouting but I couldn’t understand her. What happened?’
I just shrugged and told him that she was angry there were no biscuits. Since I was their best server at the time, he just shrugged and told me to go back to work. When I went to clear her table I found the crusty old biscuit right in the center of the table, and on top of the biscuit was one single penny.
I guess she was sending a message, but for some reason it cracked me up. I still laugh when I think back to Biscuit Woman and her Penny of Rage.” Dionne Obeso
29. Take Your Dog’s Poop Back!
Technically, it was his from the start.
Might as well kindly return it back to him, right?
“I had this next-door neighbor once who had a dog. He did not obey the leash laws and would allow his dog to roam freely. His dog would poop in our backyard all the time.
I asked my neighbor nicely several times to clean up after his dog.
Another neighbor asked him as well. He would tell us that he would get around to cleaning up our yard but he never did.
After saying something to our landlord, she too asked the neighbor to clean up after his dog. He never did. It got so bad that our entire back yard was full of dog poop.
Our children could no longer play in our back yard.
Finally one day I had gotten fed up. I took a shovel and went around our yard scooping up the dog poop. Then I would drop the dog poop right in front of the neighbor’s front door.
I had to make several trips from our backyard to his front door. When I was done, all the poop was out of our yard and now lying in a huge pile at their front door.
My other neighbor and I watched and waited patiently from my front porch. Eventually, the neighbor’s girlfriend came home and stepped right into the huge pile of her dog’s poop.
We laughed so hard we cried!” Ann Young
28. I’ll Just Pretend Like You Don’t Exist
This is a great tactic for bully-victims!
“Ohhhh I still remember this as one of the most satisfying and educational experience of my life.
I was maybe 11 y/o at the local pool. For some reason, one boy, bigger than me, got angry at me, I have no idea why. He came up and started punching me under the water.
I looked around and no one to tell, nothing I could do.
It hurt, but it didn’t really hurt that much, so I just pretended I didn’t even notice him. I stayed there for a while while he punched me (under the water is tough to punch hard, so it did not hurt much).
I got out of the pool, and jumped back in right next to him.
He started punching me harder. I still pretended I did not even notice.
I went out and jumped in again nearby him.
He punched me even harder becoming more and more frustrated. I had realized that I had the power as long as I do not give it to him. It was starting to hurt, but the pleasure of being in control was way too satisfying.
I repeated this a few more times, completely ignoring his existence and he became angrier and angrier and I became more and more satisfied.
At some point, a lifeguard noticed and called to him to stop, giving him an excuse to stop, but with the rush, I was feeling, I could have gone all day being punched.
Even if it hurt, I had realized that not acknowledging him hurt him more than his punches hurt me.
One of the most vivid memories of my childhood.” Kevin Cameron
Another User Comments:
“As a kid, my father did the same thing, he was walking home when a bigger kid took his hat. This big kid kept on teasing him and laughing, ‘Look I’ve got your hat, haha, don’t you want back, ha I stole i.t’ etc, waving it in his face and stuff. My then 8-year-old dad just ignored him and kept on walking. The kid kept on trying to get a reaction, kept on teasing and waving the hat around.
My dad just kept walking. Eventually, the kid, so frustrated, threw the hat at my dad, burst into tears and ran off. It shows two things I guess – One: bullies will leave if you don’t give them the attention they want. Two: perhaps they wouldn’t be bullies if they were given the right attention in the right ways. Either way, I always liked this story!” Jennifer Clark
27. I Don’t Have Cooties, But I’ll Play Along Like I Do
“I’m of Eastern descent and I have light-brown skin.
Thankfully I’ve hardly ever been on the receiving end of racist remarks but if there are any minor occurrences I try to remain more amused than offended.
I was raised and educated in London, England, and went on to work in the city center. I’m often told I speak English beautifully and that I sound a little posh. This is all significant so do bear with me, yah?!
Years ago, during a very heavy storm, I was rushing from one meeting to another which was a few streets away. It was quicker to go by foot than to tackle the crazy traffic but I got absolutely drenched. On that day I happened to be wearing a new black mascara (note: it wasn’t waterproof).
As I arrived at my destination I stopped at the revolving doors and used a tissue to wipe away the worst of the mascara smudges.
Suddenly, a very large well-dressed Caucasian man rudely brushed past me. As he did this, his hand accidentally touched mine but he quickly whipped it away like I was something contagious. He immediately took out a handkerchief and started wiping his hand and then muttered, ‘You people should learn to keep out of our way!’
Quick as a wink, I turned to him and spoke just loud enough for horrified on-lookers to hear,
‘Oh good heavens you’ve missed a bit. Here allow me.’ I briefly wiped at his hand using my tissue (evidence of mascara hidden in its folds) then shook it open and held it up for everyone to see,
‘My word you can’t be too careful, can you?!’
I then sauntered past him being careful not to trip over his jaw.
Gotcha you ignorant ol’ coot!’ Dee Lachapelle
26. You Don’t Have Smaller Change? No Problem, Here’s A Mountain Of Coins
“I used to be a cashier at a supermarket where I lived. In that particular area, people had a habit of buying meaningless stuff (like a pack of gum) and pay with large bills (over €50).
They did this because, for some reason, going to the bank was beneath them (someone said this to a colleague). This usually happened at the beginning of the month. Sometimes I would ask them if they didn’t have a smaller amount and they would nod ‘no’ while I could hear the change in their pockets
They also used to think that we had an unlimited supply of coins.
Usually, we would receive them every Thursday so when we were short, we would ask customers for spare change to make it easier (if the total was 11.80 and the person paid with €20 we would ask for 1,80 and then the change would only be €10.
That day, my supervisor had told me that we were running very low and it was almost closing time. Two guys bought a small item and paid with a 100€ bill. I asked them if they had a smaller amount. They said no. I explained that I would have to give their change in small coins.
When I started counting the money they realized they would leave with handfuls of small change and said that they could pay with a smaller amount. Unfortunately for them, company policy prevented me from accepting money after the till was open (to prevent scams). The look on their faces when I deposited the mountain of change on their hands was priceless.” Laura Silva
25. This Is Why You Don’t Accuse Me Of Being Late
“On my last day of work before moving to a new job, toward the end of a night-shift which ended in the really busy newsroom of BBC World Service, I was publicly accused by a particularly nasty editor of being half an hour late back from a meal break.
Newspeople can be very abrupt and everything is urgent to them, but I wasn’t late, and it really upset me, particularly as this was my last ever shift and I wanted to leave on a high. But this was ‘his’ domain I was working in – he was at the head of the big news table with his team of colleagues around him, an impressive collection of about a dozen phones (the push-button type with curly leads and handsets) in a big group in the middle, and important piles of paper, working towards the final news broadcast of the night – and it wouldn’t have been constructive to argue the point with him in front of his colleagues.
So when the last broadcast finished, which ended my shift (and my last working day there), while he and his colleagues went off for a coffee, on the way out I stopped by the group of phones on the big news table, methodically lifted up all the phone receivers, and replaced them on different phones.
Walking to the station in the early morning sunshine, against the tide of grey commuters going to work, I kept imagining the scenario for the next frantic news person trying to either make or receive a call in a hurry and wondering why they couldn’t hear anything on any of the phones.
I’m sorry to say I might possibly have cackled to myself like a maniac. It still makes me laugh even now, 30 years later!” Mark Harmer
24. Did You Forget Your Phone? I’ll Just Leave It In The Lost And Found
Whoopsies, company policy!
“Cab driving story.
New Year’s Eve sucks. Too many amateur drinkers. Too many high expectations.
I picked up three nicely dressed young women, taking them to a downtown club for some festivities. They knew cabs would be difficult to get after midnight and so asked me for my card.
About an hour or so later I got a call from the ladies, one was already too drunk and needed a ride home.
At 9:30, tsk, tsk, tsk.
I met her being held up by her friends in front of the club. What a mess! I explained that if she got sick in the cab it would be fifty bucks extra, surcharge. If she was going to get sick, tell me and I’d pull over. We were off, her and I.
Shortly after we started, she told me she was about to get sick. I pulled over just in time for her to open the door and barf in the curb. Blaah! Blaarf! I hate New Year’s Eve.
After five minutes of this display, I asked if we should continue or maybe return to the club.
No, she wanted to go home.
I got her home and the fare was $18.80. She said that’s two dollars more than the trip out. I explained the meter continues to run while she was throwing up. “Outrageous!” she said. She threw eighteen dollars at me. I reminded her it was eighteen and EIGHTY cents (plus tip). She then threw the change at me. Happy New Year, I said as I pulled away, not even waiting for her to get to her door. New Year’s Eve is the worst!!!
Karma is my buddy, for just a few minutes later I heard a cell phone ring in the back seat.
Hello, I answered. She said you found my phone. I said, are you the one who just threw money at me? She said, yes she was, and could I bring her phone to her home? Yeah, right. I told her, per company policy, I would drop her phone off at the taxi station’s lost and found, she could come to pick it up in the morning.
The rest of the shift that cell phone kept ringing, all her friends calling to give her wishes. My fares throughout the night would ask, Aren’t you going to answer the phone? I then would explain what happened.
We’d all laugh and laugh. New Year’s Eve can be festive, too.” Bea Foroni
23. Here’s A Friendly Push
“This wasn’t me but an acquaintance of my father’s some decades ago. Let’s call him John. We live where snow falls just enough to make traffic problems a couple of times a year.
Most drivers either slow down or even stay home when it snows but some people have to drive and some people just don’t learn. It was snowing and traffic was slowed but moving. A meter or so had already piled up so things were treacherous. John is traveling behind a semi-tractor, moving steadily.
Of course along comes an idiot sliding, skidding and swerving around other cars. Rear tires spinning away shooting slush, snow, and sand everywhere. John watches in his mirrors as idiot barely misses other cars then edges to the side to let him by. Idiot swerves back out around semi-truck whose brake lights come on as he cuts off the rig.
A few kilometers later everything slows to a crawl then the truck stops at the bottom of a steep hill. A few minutes later John gets out and trudges through the slushy snow to the front of the truck. The idiot is partway up the hill spinning madly but getting nowhere, effecting blocking the road for the large semi.
Trucker climbs out of the cab and taps John on the shoulder, ‘Let’s help this guy out.’ He winks.
Nary another word was said. The two of them walk to the back of the idiot’s car. Apply shoulders to it, and as the tires spin, shove it unceremoniously into the ditch at the side of the road. High fives and back to their respective vehicles to drive slowly by cursing idiot.” Greg Jensen
22. I’m Not Pudding Up With Your Bullying Anymore
“Oh, this moment is one of my best memories.
Remember that jerk in middle school? Yeah, you know who I’m talking about. The one who slacks off in class and makes fun of you for getting a B+ when his best grade is a C-.
He’s also the one who insults others and responds to witty comebacks with, ‘I know you are but what am I?’, even when the circumstances don’t make sense. Oh, I’ve got it! The one who thinks it’s cool to sag his pants to his knees.
I think you all know who I’m talking about.
I was lucky enough to have this kid in my Spanish class. Every day, he’d walk—no, the swagger in a minute after the late bell rang. This particular day, I was in a horrid mood. I had forgotten about a math test, forgot my binder at home, and on top of that, had to lug around a giant jar of vanilla pudding with me all day.
When I say giant, I mean giant. It was huge, like the ones you find at Costco. It was for a club meeting that was after school, so I was stuck with that monstrosity for 7 hours.
When I walked into class, the token jerk went, ‘Check it out! That jar is almost as big as her stomach!’ and laughed. I replied sweetly, “Oh sorry (insert jerk here), but you have to have a double-digit IQ before you can talk to me.”
His eyes narrowed and I knew what was coming. His signature comeback was about to slip out. But then he surprised me by retorting with, ‘Sorry, I don’t talk to girls with mustaches.’
Instead of engaging the idiot, I sat down and pretended to pay attention, all while devising a plan for revenge.
Throughout the class, I unscrewed the cap of the pudding jar, little by little.
Then, as we were leaving, I ‘tripped’ and spilled the entire jar of pudding right at him.
It got everywhere. His clothes, his hair, even his backpack. The teacher couldn’t accuse me of anything because it was an ‘accident’. (Secretly, I like to think that she hated him too.)
And the club director started yelling at me for dropping the jar, all I could think of was his clothes and bag, covered in pudding. It was awesome.” Riya Kataria
21. Don’t Want To Be Next To A Kid’s Birthday Party? Dine To Our Disgusting Conversation
Who goes to McDonald’s for peace and quiet anyways?
“I had had a really bad day at work and was in a foul mood.
I had to leave a few minutes early because my husband was out of town and I had to get my children (perhaps 8 and 11 at the time) to two different activities that were far apart. My daughter had a half-hour lesson almost right away, but my son was going to be at ball practice for three hours and needed to eat beforehand. The solution was McDonald’s.
There was a birthday party for very young children in a separate, but the not enclosed area and our only choice was to sit near it. The party was noisy in a ‘kids are having fun’ way and not in a ‘kids are being wild’ way.
I was actually starting to feel better listening to the chatter of younger children and thinking of my own children’s parties when two older women sat immediately behind us and started complaining about all the commotion. They were loud and mean. My mood went right back to sour.
Just as I was about to turn around and say, ‘If you don’t like to dine next to a children’s birthday party, don’t come to McDonald’s at 5:15,’ my daughter announced that she had finally gotten to start dissecting her lizard that day. The vocalization behind us was somewhere between a gasp and choking.
As an interested parent, I started asking my daughter questions about the dissection and her younger brother had several graphic questions of his own. My daughter was pleased to tell us everything she knew. Of course, the women turned their complaining away from the party and to us, but we were oblivious to the inappropriateness of our dinner topic. (I think the kids really were.)
It was too bad that we couldn’t stay until we drove THEM away, but we had two appointments to make. As we left, I smiled at them and said I hoped they would have a nice evening.
And I laughed to myself every time I thought of how they had inadvertently lifted my mood. I do wonder if they ever ate at McDonald’s again.” Nancy Maloy
20. I Guilt Tripped Her Into Donating To Needy Children
“I work in retail, trying to pay my way through the obscene cost of higher education, and the store I work for just started a fundraiser yesterday. All proceeds, every penny, would go towards finding a cure for type one diabetes. I worked from open to close as a cashier but I hauled my keister out of the break-room during my break to donate five bucks because I like to think I’m not a despicable human being.
However, the number of people who ‘donated’ the day before was really starting to p*ss me off. Maybe seven hours into my shift, a mother and daughter came up to my register. I rang them out and like a good little robot asked them if they’d like to donate a dollar. The mom had the audacity to look at me, smile smugly and say, ‘Oh, I’ve done it every time this week. I’ll do it tomorrow.’
I remember the conversation clearly from there.
‘Really?’ I asked. ‘That’s pretty amazing.’
She agreed, ‘It is.’
With a smile, I know was too wide and didn’t reach my eyes, I said, ‘It always warms my heart when I see parents leading by example.
I’m so glad you’re teaching your daughter to value the quality of life of children over a few measly bucks. What’s a dollar compared to the suffering of a kid, heck the whole family, has to go through? Isn’t that right?’
The daughter gave her mother a hateful look and the mother was mortified and scrambled to grab her bags and leave.
‘Thank you so much for donating, ma’am,’ I called out as she rushed out the door. ‘Be sure to come back anytime next month, because we’re collecting donations through the month of September!'” Joel Ricki
19. Cut In Line At The Airport? You’ll Be Waiting For Your Bags For a Long Time
“My wife and I both have a pet peeve of people cutting into lines, particularly if it’s done without asking.
In our home country of India, this phenomenon is unfortunately particularly prevalent at airports.
Standing in the security queue is a tedious exercise in itself and it is extremely annoying to watch people skip ahead and put their bags in for a screening and then stroll through the security check without as much as glance at those patiently waiting in line. Expressing your objections can often lead to pointless confrontations which I don’t particularly enjoy.
I finally found a good way to address this by waiting for these truants to drop their bags on the belt and move through the security check. While they are getting their pat-down, I glide ahead and silently remove their bags from the belt and place it on the ground out of view.
I also exchanged a knowing wink with the staff to assuage any security concerns they may have.
It was quite gratifying to watch them wait impatiently for their bags to appear on the other side while it moves smoothly for all the other passengers who had observed the proper decorum. So far, fortunately, I’ve always been well out of sight by the time (I assume) they’d worked out what happened.” Shujah Das Gupta
18. Have Fun Finding Your Car Keys
“One time, when I was working as a cashier in a natural foods market, I encountered an extraordinarily rude customer. She kept demanding I work faster, and spoke to me in a condescending manner.
I could have retaliated in the usual way—press my thumbnail into a piece of fruit, crush the eggs—but then I saw something far more satisfying: her car keys hiding at the bottom of the cart. Normally, I would have just reached down and retrieved them, since they clearly fell down there by accident. Instead, I simply placed her bags on top, concealing the keys, and sent her on her way.
Moments later, I had the pleasure of watching that bitter woman frantically retrace her steps, up and down the aisles, until another employee finally discovered her keys and rescued her from her personal hell.
It was one of the most gratifying, passive-aggressive acts of revenge I’ve ever executed in my life. And the best part is, that ungrateful woman will never know I was the mastermind behind the whole thing.” Scott Ivener
17. She Ordered All The Shrimp, So I Stole A Bag Of Hers When She Wasn’t Looking
Plot twist: they probably had more shrimp in the back.
“This actually happened a few months ago. It was probably the most devious thing I have ever done.
I was at a Chinese supermarket looking to buy shrimp for my boyfriend. Shrimp is expensive and happened to be on sale for a great deal that week.
If you’ve ever been to a Chinese supermarket, you’ll know that customer service is not the greatest thing and that some of the shoppers there are not very respectful, to say the least.
So I’m in the seafood line waiting to be serviced. When suddenly, one older Chinese woman (mid 60’s) pushes her way in front of me to examine the shrimp that is on sale. Maybe it was because I wasn’t confident in my Cantonese speaking abilities (I am an American born Chinese) or maybe it was because I thought she was just browsing – whatever the reason, I didn’t say anything.
Next thing I knew, she was placing an order for 5 pounds of shrimp. 5 pounds of shrimp!
There was absolutely none left. I watched in anger as I saw the 5 pounds of shrimp being handed to her in separate bags. I was boiling inside from the rage.
I watched as she put the shrimp in her cart and walked away to look at produce. Then, a single devious thought popped into my head. I went over to her cart, nabbed a bag of shrimp and scurried deep into the supermarket with the biggest grin on my face.
Shrimp never tasted so good… and I don’t even like shrimp!” Vicky Dubz
16. Your Daughter’s Education Means She Can Do Whatever She Wants? So Can I
“When I was a young, poor university student, I traveled on the tram where the old couple was sitting and a young mother with her 6–7 years old daughter opposite to them.
The child was very bad and was kicking old lady all the time to the shin, it was visibly painful for the lady. She was moving her legs to left and right, but the bad young girl was kicking her, again and again.
After some time, her husband noticed it and ask the mother politely: ‘Please try to calm down your daughter to stop kicking my wife!’ Mother suddenly becomes furious and starts yelling on the old couple: ‘She is raising in Montessori education, so she can do whatever she wants to do! Nobody will ever tell her what she can do and what she can´t!’
The whole tram was silent in shock :/
When I was leaving the tram one stop later, I took my chewed chewing gum and carefully rubbed it into bad girl’s long hairs.
Her mother becomes yelling on my: ‘What the f..k are you doing?! Now I have to cut her hair totally! Are you mad?!”
‘Madam. Do not yell at me! I have a Montessori education, I can do whatever I want to do and nobody will ever tell me what I can do and what I cannot do!’ I replied. The tram was still laughing when I left it.” Igor Pauer
15. Call Me For Nasty Conversations Again, And We’ll Talk About Jesus Instead
“For several months I was awakened a couple of times a week at 2 or 3 in the morning by my ringing telephone.
It was always the same male voice who called me by name and, before I was fully awake enough to recognize what was happening and hang up, described through heavy breathing the perverted sexual things he wanted to do to me.
I never responded, thinking that any reaction might encourage him, but the calls kept coming. I was very concerned since he knew my name and had my unlisted phone number that he probably also had my address so I did not want to antagonize him… but I wanted the calls to stop.
One day I confided what had been happening to a co-worker and she suggested a great solution.
The next time he phoned, I said, ‘Oh, I’m so glad you called me.’
He was obviously surprised and said, ‘You are?’
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Let’s talk about Jesus.’
There were a few seconds of silence, then HE hung up the phone. I never heard from him again.” Jill Carroll
14. My Window Washing Duties “Suck?” I Think You Qualify For The Job!
Don’t bash a job that suits your skills perfectly.
“I worked at a Bose store years ago, when I was about 24, in an area that was incredibly slow. We still did a little under $1,000,000 a year, but there were days where we stood around with very little to do.
Often times, we would clean the outside windows, since the little mall we were in no longer had outside custodians (the Bose store was the anchor for that outlet mall).
It was cold, so I put on my black hoodie, got my bucket, rag, and squeegee and headed out to work. Now, I was still in my uniform, but with the hoodie on, only my khaki pants and black dress shoes were visible, no identifying tag to show I worked for Bose.
Up walks a young man, 22 (saw it on his resume later), and before I can greet him and say I’ll be right with him, he walks past me and mutters:
‘Sucks to be you.’
I can’t help it. I set my stuff down, walk into the building, take my hoodie off, and stand behind the counter, in my Bose shirt, with my Bose name-tag, where he’s waiting, with his application and resume in hand.
His look was the best and most satisfying thing of it all – I read it as sucks to be me.
I took it to the store manager and told him the story, then suggested he give the kid a callback and tell him his skills would be better suited to something similar to a window washer.
My manager did it, too.” Rex Spaulding
13. Want To Leave Me And Your Unborn Child? Have Fun Finding Your Car
“My abusive then-spouse decided to leave me, which I didn’t mind, but his family was visiting from overseas, having a great time, partying, going on road trips, and inviting him.
They were horrified by his stories of what an American, awful, disobedient wife I was.
He was going to casinos with them, losing all our money.
I was pregnant (high risk, no less), on maternity leave from graduate school so no job, and had another infant at home.
One day he starts packing his $hit, tells me he can’t take it anymore, he’s leaving.
I had no money. The rent was overdue. We had impending disconnect notices from the phone and electric companies (there were no cellphones or social media back then, so pregnant and with an infant, I needed that phone, and of course, the electricity).
He had promised to make payments that payday but instead he was off to another casino
No groceries, food, diapers, etc. So. As he’s stacking his $hit in a corner of the living room, I tell him I’m going to the lobby to get the mail.
Instead, I moved his car. I parked it a few blocks away, went upstairs with the mail, and waited for him to leave. He takes his suitcases, loads them all into the elevator, tells me I brought this on myself, and leaves in a huff.
A few minutes later the intercom rings: ‘Do you remember where I parked my car?’ No.
He comes upstairs, all sweating and confused. Calls his brother. ‘Do you remember where I parked my car?’ No. And even if he did, he couldn’t read English, so wouldn’t have known the street name, anyway. Calls the police. They arrive. He talks to them privately. Then they come in to talk to me. ‘We understand there are marital issues. Did you steal his car?’ I hated being dodgy with the police. I simply stated, No. (I didn’t steal it.) I told them my side of the story and they became more sympathetic to me. No food, no diapers, no money, pregnant, etc.
The police told me to apply for WIC assistance and lectured him. They take his report, warn him about his behavior, and leave. Okay. So his was the car the visiting family was gonna use for their road trip.
So the road trip was canceled. All packed up with no place to go.
I decided to outsmart him. ‘Honey, since now there’s no chance of you winning anything at the casino, maybe we should make the payments you promised the utilities so they won’t cut us off.’
Since he was stuck there now himself, he gave me the money.
Of course, he begged to use my car, but I had never given him a key, and I told him the brakes were shaky and it cost too much to repair them.
For two months this idiot had no car and had to take cabs and buses to work. And the visiting family couldn’t rent a car so they went home early.
Meanwhile, I had applied for WIC, gotten a social worker, and spoke with the idiot’s ultra-religious boss who agreed it was best to give me the idiot’s salary (he was paid in cash).
He was furious but I was protected by the religious community, and the social worker’s home visits helped.
He realized he had to start acting like a human being, so he became much more agreeable to live with, but I wanted him out of my hair.
So one day I told him, ‘OMG, honey! I was driving around looking for parking, and I think I saw your car!’
We excitedly jumped into my car and I drive him there. ‘Is that it?’
He was thrilled. To this day he thinks he parked it there after partying and couldn’t remember.
We’re divorced now (can I get a Hallelujah?) and the kids are grown. They know the whole story. But he’s serving life now, so we’re all estranged from him.” Source
12. You Build A Road According To An Agreement, Not On Your Own Terms
“This happened when I was still married to my second ex and we were living in New Hampshire.
We lived on top of a hill we called ‘Heck’s Hill’ and for many years, ours was the only house within several miles.
A builder in town, known for his rude arrogance, bought a huge parcel of land behind and beside us. It was his intention to build a road around us, ending in a cul de sac to the right of our hill, where he would build eight homes.
Since the road would go up the left side and wind around our property in the back before continuing on to the cul de sac, the builder claimed an easement for some of our land for a cut down to where he would put his road.
Otherwise, he would have to curve his road more to go around the hill and it would cost him more.
We were told this would take about 150′ from the back of our property to account for the necessary slope because the road would be cut into the hill with a 25′ drop.
Our home was totally surrounded by woods and most of the trees were old, huge, and entirely established. Just inside the treeline, was a rock and stone wall, which went entirely around our home. In the back, the stone wall was only a few feet from our in-ground pool.
In the State of New Hampshire, it was against the law to destroy or remove, an existing stone or rock wall.
I don’t know, I think it had something to do with history.
Anyway, on the day the bulldozer and other machinery arrived to make the cut, the bulldozer operator came to the house to let me know he would start cutting trees in an hour and if we had a pet, to make sure it was kept indoors.
When they left, curious me went out to the back of our property where they had placed orange ribbons around the trees that were to be bulldozed. Two of the largest trees were within a foot, or so, of the rock and stone wall —only a few feet from the pool.
Horrified, I called the builder on his cell phone and told him that was NOT what we had agreed on when we spoke with the Planning Board —not even close. I told him, per our agreement, he would have to move his road further out, because he was NOT going to cut that close to the stone and rock wall.
(By taking out the marked trees, it was obvious he was planning to take part of the stone wall, too).
He said something obnoxious like, ‘Plans change. The additional feet of moving the road further out would make it cost-prohibitive. Get over it, lady.
The road is going in where I say it’s going in.’
I told him we were going to put it back in front of the Town Planning Board and let them decide. We would have them make the determination because there was no way either my husband or I would allow them to do it this way.
He said the Planning Board wasn’t going to be meeting for another three weeks and he didn’t have time for sh*t like this from me —he had a job to do, the equipment was there, and then he hung up on me.
Now I was p*ssed. I went inside, got a rifle, loaded it, and planted myself on the rock and stone wall behind the pool and waited.
When the drivers came back, I told them to get off of our property or I would shoot. They complained and I told them to go call their arrogant bully of an employer and tell him I was going to sit there until the Planning Board met and I didn’t care how long it took.
It was said with all the bravado I could muster. Oh boy, I thought. The police will be here any minute and I’m going to be in so much trouble …
Okay, the short answer is, no police came and The Planning Board put an immediate hold on the whole project until they could convene and review both sides of the agreement, which would be in two days’ time.
They heard both sides and the arrogant SOB was told he had to move his frigging road!
Satisfying … oh yes, very satisfying.” Source
11. Grab My Butt? Get Kicked Out
“This goes from passive-aggressive to aggressive. On my way to work one day, the train was delayed. By the time it got to the station, the train car was packed. The car had the same layout as the photo below. I was standing perpendicular to the doors, squished with my back against the bars on the ends of the seats. Let’s call them ‘grates’ (see pic above). Right after the doors closed, I felt a hand go under my jacket.
The guy tried to grab my a*s but missed. I turned to look him dead in the eye but he just grinned.
This man had an unsettling face, perhaps even more so because he was proud and not the slightest ounce ashamed of lewd actions. To further paint a picture, he was a bone skinny punk, probably in his mid-40s, and not very tall. I got really creeped out but there was no room to move and I couldn’t get off at the next stop for another 3–5 minutes. I felt him try to attempt a 2nd grab, and I swatted his hand away pretty roughly.
He still had the same, creepy grin on his face.
Only seconds later, he tried again and grabbed me twice, once on each butt cheek. This time, I was furious. I stared him down and shouted, ‘Care to tell everyone here what you just did to me?!’ He just kept smiling and didn’t respond. I probably looked like a crazy person with my loud outburst but people were now paying attention. About a minute later, he still had the nerve to try again but this time, people were watching and one woman nearby shouted ‘hey’ at him.
He took this new attention as a sign to hold onto my a*s instead of pulling away, knowing the train car was so busy that it would be hard for someone to intervene.
This weirdo now has his hand latched onto my a*s and that’s when I got so grossed out that I flew into a rage. Since he stuck his hand through the grate, I grabbed his wrist so that it would be difficult to get his hand through the grate and as he tried to pull back, his hand got stuck on a bar.
I intended to grip his wrist until I could get out at the next stop but he kept twisting his hand and even tried to bite my hand. Thankfully, his skinny, creepy face didn’t fit through the grate. He did slip away for a second, but I then got a hold of his thumb, afraid he was going to try something again.
While I gripped his thumb, he vigorously tried to pull away and ended up cracking his thumb, only mildly. I heard the crack and told him ‘good luck grabbing anything now.’
I then had this adrenaline rush go through me and I told him to get off the train before I purposely crack the other one. He was bent over in pain but refused to get off the train, stood up and started threatening me! A gentleman then stormed over from a few feet away and proceeded to violently drag him out by his shirt. He unnecessarily apologized for not being able to help sooner.
I thanked him for ‘taking out the trash’ and he kindly accompanied me to fill out a report profiling the idiot.” Source
10. Never Kick Anything On The Beach Made Out Of Sand
“When I was 17, I went camping at a beach one day and decided to make a sand throne, to relax in, except, it wasn’t made entirely of sand, because it would collapse the moment I sat on it. So, I gathered some large stones nearby, arranged them neatly to form a chair, and then covered it with sand to even out the gaps so that it would be comfortable to sit in.
After 2 hours of toiling under the hot sun, the job was done, and I sat in my throne with a great sense of fulfillment. After a while, I retreated back to my tent nearby to rest.
As I stared out of my tent to enjoy the view of the beach and admire my handiwork, a young boy, around 10 of age, went to my throne and walked around it, inspecting it curiously. For a moment, I thought he was going to sit on it. But then, a mischievous glint shone in his eye and he backed away from it a few steps.
Then, he dashed and swung a mighty kick! And… collapsed, clasping his foot and crying for his mom.
I stayed in my tent, with tears in my eyes trying to hold back the laughter, thinking ‘Served you right!’ It wasn’t intentional, but making a ‘sand’ structure with stones was definitely the most satisfying passive-aggressive thing I did to a troll who goes around kicking sand structures.” Source
9. This Passenger Was Just Too Rude For Words
“I once had a rude passenger traveling with her baby on board.
When one of the crew went to her to brief her (the airlines I work for make it mandatory for crews to brief parents traveling with an infant below 2 years old) on how to use infant seatbelt and what to do in an emergency, with a flick of the wrist she dismissed her.
‘No need to brief me. I know the drill,’ without so much as looking at the stewardess.
When it was time to take off, she didn’t strap her son in using the infant seatbelt we provided. When we insist, she dismissed us again saying her baby is allergic to metal (the only piece of metal on the seatbelt was only the buckle and it would be right on her son’s belly covered with clothing). All the while my brain keeps going, ‘This woman is a piece of work.’
When we roll out our cart for meal service, she snapped her fingers at crewmembers demanding she is served first.
Now, this is understandable since we always serve kids, elders, and mothers with infants first. But you don’t have to do it by snapping your fingers at us. You could have just stop our cart and ask nicely.
When we roll out our food sales cart, she stopped us to buy some snacks but refuses to take off her headphones while talking to us. Her sitting at the window seat means she’s farther away from me and her words were not as clear as the passenger sitting on aisle seat talking to me. I look at her dumbfounded that after a few times of asking her what would she like to buy, she keeps muttering under her breath all the while not really bothered to make eye contact with me or take off her headphones.
So I pass all kinds of snacks that we had, one by one until she gets frustrated. She keeps saying, ‘No not this one! I want xyzcbhsjdkwhateveritis!’
I passed another packet of snacks knowing full well that wasn’t what she wants. ‘No I want xcbsggeyetheotherone!’d
I took out a packet of peanuts that she most definitely doesn’t want. ‘No! That one, I need xctshdchstheonenexttoit!’
This went on for a few minutes, while the passengers sitting nearby watch in amusement. Not even once I mutter anything rude to her, just pretending I can’t fully comprehend whatever she’s saying.
If only she had taken off her headphones and talk to me like I’m a normal person instead of her slave, I probably won’t play dumb.
In the end, she got so frustrated she just said, ‘Yeah ok give me whatever you have then!’ handing me a rm100 note ($25 USD) to pay for something that cost her only rm7 ($0.25USD).
I asked if she has smaller notes and again I was dismissed like my fellow crewmembers. So I went around the cabin asking everyone if they have smaller change for me to return her the balance. I went from row 5 to row 30. Everyone just keeps shaking their head saying nope sorry don’t have small change.
Again, she got frustrated waiting for her change, she pressed the call button and handed me the exact payment of rm7 in small notes and demanded to get her rm100 note back.
And oh, towards the end of the flight, during descent, her kid started acting up and cried as loud as ever. She struggled to get him to calm down while the rest of the passengers look at her in disgust.” Source
8. Be Kind To They Neighbor, You Will Need Them One Day
“12 years ago new neighbours moved in. They were young and arrogant with an air of superiority. We were middle-aged, kind, helpful, respectful towards all people.
They started slowly but surely to adopt this really bad attitude against us. Unfortunately, we share a drive between our semi-detached houses. When they wanted something from us it was banging on the door to move the car, which as it happened was not even in their way.
Fix the fence immediately when their grass was up to the knees and no one was even using the garden. They would knock and complain about our friends parking on the drive even though they could get a bus out of their side if they wanted to. There were letters through our door, and threats of solicitors, etc., all to no avail as we knew our rights and did nothing wrong.
When we wanted something from them. i.e. their drainpipe was leaking for a month on my side of the drive outside my kitchen. Drains blocked with dirty sewage running across the path for 2/3 weeks before they deemed to get a plumber in.
Polite requests went unheeded. They just ignored us. You get the picture – one rule for them and another for us.
One day about 10 years ago, I was extremely angry at their attitude for no reason but to be awkward and I said to my husband I am going over. I was at the time in a temper but I did calm myself down because I knew in temper you get nowhere in life.
The husband came to the door, and I saw the wife on the hall stairway in the background – we do not even make eye contact now. And that does not happen to me because I have never had an occasion for it to happen.
I said to him. ‘Look I am just going to say this once and once only. I do not know why you have come with such an attitude when we are really nice neighbors and cannot understand what you have against us. But let me tell you something – one day in the future this will go against you big time. There will come a time when you want something from us. You will go on holiday and your house will be vulnerable to burglars and such like. Neighbours should join together in their best interests. You will want a parcel taking in when you are out.
You will want something to do with our joint ownership of the drive. Mark my words, something will come up and you will be sorry.’
Fast forward a few months ago, the neighbor started saying good morning and being a bit civil. I said to my husband, I am suspicious – they want something from us. Two weeks later he came to my door – asked how my family was. Smiled. And here I stood waiting for the punch line. It came.
Turned out they wanted to build an extension and swap the rights of the shared drive so we each owned our own half.
This meant if either of us wanted to build a slightly larger extension taking in the half driveway we could. He tried to persuade us that it was beneficial to both properties, and he would be paying for all the legal fees etc. My husband wanted to think about it but I immediately said no. I said:
“You know it may well be of benefit to us, but in different circumstances, we would consider it, but I do not know if you remember the conversation I had with you about 10 years ago when I said one day because of your obtuse attitude for absolutely no good reason on earth you will be sorry.
And now I am pleased to inform you that day has come!”
With that, I closed the door. Turned about-face. Nodded slightly and thought – justice has at last been served.” Source
7. Sometimes You Have To Stoop To Their Level Just A Little Bit To Make A Point
“I am an Indo-Canadian, who immigrated with his family back in 2001. Coming from a middle-class background, and an Army brat as well, I was fortunate to be educated in Catholic schools throughout my schooling in India. I was provided the best of facilities at all the schools that I had attended and had an excellent command of English due to the Catholic presence in my schools.
Coming into Canada, I never expected that I would be a subject of the stereotypes that some westerners had about India and Indians.
So, I come to Canada in Grade 11 and get enrolled in Grade 11 right off the bat due to my fluent English and my grades in India.
On my first day in Grade 11 English class, I sit behind a guy who is Canadian born with an Egyptian background.
Him: ‘So, where are you from?’
Me: ‘India, and you?’
Him: ‘Oh, I was born here but my parents are from Egypt. Say, this is all must be really weird for you eh?’
Me: ‘What do you mean?’
Him: ‘Well, all these desks and chairs, and the blackboard and being taught in English.’
Me: ‘Um, not really, no.
We have desks and chairs and all that jazz in India. I am not sure where you are getting your information from.’
Him: ‘Oh, that’s strange. Well, I was watching these documentaries on the Discovery Channel, and they showed you guys sit on the ground in the school and nobody speaks English.’
Me (trying to control myself from being defensive but smiling): ‘Well, don’t judge a whole country because you saw something on the Television. If we all did that, then I bet you that your parents must have brought some Mummy’s curse when they moved to Canada…but that didn’t happen, did it?’
Him: (Taken aback and visibly embarrassed)
Understandably, he never asked me about my Indian past.
Ironically, he now works with the federal government, with an Indian born-and-brought up as his boss 🙂
P.S. I understand that “an eye for an eye” is not the best way to treat such kind of people. I was young, and would have been more “diplomatic/PC” in my approach if it was now.” Source
6. Her Friend Just Kept Asking For More And More
“I hadn’t met with a female friend in a while, with being busy with University. All else was put in the back seat. Anyway, we were both invited to the same wedding shower a couple of hours away.
That female friend, (I’ll call her Lynn), said why don’t we ride together and pool for a shower present, we could get it at Macy’s on our way to the shower? She asked if I could drive, saying she drove so much for work and could use a break.
I agreed and drove. She said she would pay half the tolls and contribute to gas. She had me pick her up at her house.
We went to Macy’s. We picked out a vacuum cleaner. I gave her half the amount. Then when she went to pay, she pulled out a BUNCH of coupons which brought the price down to half … and did not reimburse me!! So I paid for that ‘shared gift.’ Then she tells me that she has to look at (expensive) watches for her husband (ensuring that I am fully aware of the ‘expensive’ part – her way of bragging).
His birthday is coming up. She takes seriously 30–45 minutes at the watch counter, while I mull about. I did not expect that.
Then we travel to the shower. She springs on me during the trip that she needs to be dropped off at a different place (not her home) and that she has a second event she is attending that day. Total surprise to me.
We attend the shower. It is fun. They are suggesting going out to dinner after. I can’t because my ‘friend’ has to go (and had not told me ahead of time, if I had known, I would not have driven with her!!!!).
We were having a fun time at the shower. I did not want to leave. She kept approaching me and tapping her watch. I dragged my feet a little, but really just a little. I was having fun. She starts getting more emphatic. So we go.
Her ‘little extra stop’ is 45 minutes out of the way at a shopping mall in some whole other town. I only find this out when in the car, she tells me her destination and I put it into GPS.
Here is my satisfying passive-aggressive payback:
I intentionally drove SUPER SUPER slow, as in under the speed limit on the highway and made some wrong turns.
THEN she asked if I wanted to share a ride to the upcoming wedding.
Um, NO WAY. Excuse me? Not a chance in h*ll.
Upon getting home, I unfriended her on Facebook and finally blocked her. She sent me a LinkedIn invite, which I ignored. She had been a new friend and we were still getting to know one another. After this though, it was clear that she was no friend at all and just dumping her was the best course.
Horrible, horrible, horrible woman. She did all this sooo easily like it was totally normal behavior and I was the weirdo. What a freaking creep.
And she paid NOTHING for gas and tolls. Lest I think she ‘forgot.’ She told me would have to pay me back by inviting me to her beach house so I could ‘wiggle my toes in the sand.’ She loves to brag about that stupid beach house in a dry (no alcohol sold there), quiet town.” Source
5. She Figured Out A Way To Silence Her Obnoxious Friend
“There was this one girl in my high school class.
She was Miss Popular, but not someone friendly and nice, more like the mean kind of popular from the movies. She was really nasty, downright cruel for fun, loved to brag about how great and pretty she was, and sucked up to every teacher like it was her life’s goal.
She manipulated everyone she could for any little reason and bragged about how much fun it was to manipulate people and get others to do her bidding.
We’re from an Ontario high school, so there were very few of us actively trying to get into top US colleges. Both of us were among them. For several years, all she could talk about was Columbia University. How perfect of a fit she was for Columbia, how much she couldn’t wait to go, how sure she was she would be accepted. She was talking to all these admissions people to secure her acceptance. She was in the ‘know.’ Columbia was her dream, but, ‘you never know,’ she claimed, ‘I’m going to have a hard time deciding between Columbia and Harvard.’
Application season comes around.
She’s decided she’s too good for Columbia ED and applies to Princeton SCEA. She wants to keep her options open.
She’s deferred, unsurprisingly. I, too, was deferred from my EA school.
In RD round, I was accepted to Columbia, two other Ivies, and a bunch of comparable universities, most on more than 50% ride (scholarships + aid). The only US college she was accepted to was NYU, with a $1K entrance scholarship.
The little brat was down for a while, but man. She could not shut up about that $1K scholarship. She was totally smug about it, too, and would mention it every time we ran into each other.
I assume she thought I didn’t get into anywhere good, either.
Decision day rolls around and I come into school wearing my Columbia tee shirt.
The look on her face was amazing.
I wore some sort of Columbia gear (whether that tee-shirt, my Columbia hat or my Columbia sweater) every single damn day the rest of the school year.” Source
4. He Paid What He Owed In The Most Annoying Way Possible
“I had a horrible experience trying to buy a new Honda at a local dealership. I told them what I wanted, but they kept trying to upsell me on a different model. Then it was switching sales guys, to the hardcore close.
etc. etc. I understand sales and all the BS really doesn’t bother me since it’s part of the game. However, after reaching a price and completing the paperwork, I drove out with the car.
I was happy until Jennifer from the office called me three days later at work. They made an error and didn’t collect money on some specific fees listed in the contract. I was pretty sure I paid everything listed. I told Jennifer I needed a couple of days to review the contract and look at the check I wrote to determine if I owed money. She became a belligerent b*tch, yelling about how I have their money and need to come down right now and pay.
I told her I would review the contract and pay them if I owed them money. She called at 9:00 am the next morning being a b*tch again demanding money. Later that evening, I reviewed the contract and they didn’t total up the doc fee correctly and owed them $394.00.
I called Jennifer and told her that I did find the error, would pay the amount, and asked if she could please tell me when she left the office so I could pay her personally. I waited to 4:50 pm on Friday night (Jennifer works an 8-5, M-F) and paid her $394 in nickels.
I had broken the seals on the bags from the bank which meant they needed to hand count all the coin.
I had brought a book, took up residence in their customer lounge, and waited for them to complete their count. I enjoyed watching Jennifer and 4 salespersons make little rows of nickels. After over 90 minutes they brought me the $0.45 in additional funds I added to see if they would accurately count it. My back up plan was if they said it was all there, I would inform them that I actually included extra money and couldn’t remember how much, so they would need to recount.” Source
3. She Thought She Was More Important Than Everyone Else
“In Turkey, there have been x-ray machines and metal detector doors at the entrances of every shopping mall since even before 9/11.
And still, we get more than a fair share of line cutters.
On that particular afternoon, at a very non-specific hour, with no lines whatsoever, I walked toward one of these machines following the people who had just walked in briskly before me. The machine was a small model like this one with a short conveyor belt and a non-moving part at the beginning:
Just as I was putting down my purse and stepping towards the door two steps away, some self-important young nobody dived in, plopped her small purse right in front of mine, and rushed in through the door.
With a speed that is so unlike me, which still amazes me today, I picked up her purse as she was walking through, and put it back on the non-moving part.
I walked in, picked up my purse and walked on without a glance at the disrespectful adult-shaped brat waiting for hers.
I am glad that she probably had to stand there and lost a few more very, very precious seconds of her time as she figured out what happened, walked back out, put her purse back on the conveyor and walked in through the metal detector door again.” Source
2. Use Items That Aren’t Yours, And You’ll Get A Not-So-Nice Surprise
“As a student, I was living in a flat together with other students sharing the bathrooms, toilets, and kitchen.
Sometimes, things in the kitchen vanished.
Well, such things happen. Occasionally, I found a replacement in my place in the fridge or shelf or some other delicacy in exchange. Occasionally, something just vanished. Oh, well. No big deal.
But two things really aggravated me:
My nice, tasty original Heinz Ketchup (no advertisement here, I just really liked the stuff at that time) was used up incredibly fast, even when I was absent. The same happened to my sugar, which I kept out in the open in a nice sugar bowl with a spoon in the kitchen. This stuff was never refilled. It just vanished. Well, I knew how to get them…
My parents used no-name ketchup from a very cheap store, so when I once went home I picked up an empty bottle, thoroughly cleaned it and filled my lovely, costly and trademarked Heinz ketchup into that bottle.
I could store it for ages. Nobody took it. Heck, even when I actively _offered_ it, nobody wanted it. Problem solved.
The sugar thing was a bit more tricky. Of course, I could have taken it into my room, but then I would have to drink my morning tea in the kitchen either without sugar or take the sugar with me and remember to lock it up again. In addition, this wouldn’t have been fun, would it?
So I exchanged the sugar with salt. I left it for a few days. With satisfaction, I noticed that some of my “white gold” has vanished, but not as much as if it was sugar.
I enjoyed the picture of disgusted facial expressions I imagined and the thought of coffee or tea being poured into the sink, ‘cause it was salted. Later I exchanged it with sugar again and used it, but on random occasions, I exchanged it with salt again, so nobody could ever guess if it was really salt or sugar in there.
Sometimes I even salted my own tea, which was useful when I was doing sports (one of the things I learned during military service), which probably helped to fool any observer. It did not take long and nobody dared to touch my sugar again…” Source
1. Say A Derogatory Comment, Suffer The Consequences
“Once in line for boarding a flight, as a frequent flyer I stood in the priority line.
A burly German pushed his way in front of me and grumbled something about women should defer to businessmen whose time is more valuable.
He proceeded to put his bag down next to mine. Sticking out was his boarding pass. I put my coat down briefly over both carryons. Then a minute later picked up the coat while palming his boarding pass underneath it. When it was time to board it turned into a circus, with Herr #@$ unable to find his pass, holding up about 50 people impatient to get on board.
He was told to step aside to let us inline board, which we did.
Once onboard (business class) I ordered a drink and went to the lavatory where I put his boarding pass on the table and went back. After a half-hour, they were closing the door to the plane when Herr #@$ stumbled on board, sweaty, red-faced and angry (later found out he had to go back outside security to get a new boarding pass). He too was in business class.
Prior to takeoff, the FA secured the lavatory doors. Once in cruising altitude, seat belt light turned off the FA unlatched the lavatory, did a quick check inside, saw the pass, saw the seat number and delivered it to Herr.
With a smile, she said, ‘This must be yours. Welcome aboard. What would you like to drink?’
His expression was priceless. Karma is a b*tch, you know. I’m Barbara by the way.” Source
It’s so hard to resist the opportunity to engage in a little passive aggression when the time comes. Although it’s not always the right thing to do, it’s difficult to say that the latter people didn’t deserve it. What was the most passive-aggressive thing you did to someone?