People Shout Their Revenge Stories From The Rooftops
19. Moving Out My Evil Step Mom
“I’m an only son. My mom died of ovarian cancer at only 55 five years ago. It broke my dad’s heart. They had been together since college and were the same age, with my dad being a month older. I’m 22 and am about to graduate college with my degree in chemistry when the main events start to occur. I went to college on a full-ride scholarship.
This is important later.
My dad met my now stepmom when she was my mom’s nurse at the hospital where she spent her final days. My stepmom ‘Grace’ played all the right notes to gain my dad’s trust. She was empathetic to him, nurturing, comforting after my mom passed. I was seventeen and old enough to sense that she was just trying to weasel her way into getting my dad’s resources, but it was up to my dad if he wanted to be in a relationship with her.
I was in my final year of public school and had just won a scholarship to attend college out of the country the following year.
My dad mourned my mom for a year and that whole time Grace would check in on him by phone every month or so, in my opinion, to scope out the possibility of sinking her hooks in him.
After a year passed Grace took the gloves off and went hard after my dad.
Grace was only 40 when she and my dad started seeing each other. I didn’t like her but at the same time my dad at least didn’t seem so depressed anymore, so I tried to be less pessimistic about her and give her the benefit of the doubt. In my gut, I didn’t trust her, though. But we are Scandinavian and at least in my family, the son does not tell his father what to do or even offer any opinion.
Grace is from the Czech Republic if you’re wondering.
My father was a very successful banker during his career and amassed quite a portfolio of wealth. I’ll spare you the details, but after six months of seeing each other, Grace and my father are married. My dad never really got over my mom though, and he was getting weaker and weaker even though he was only 57.
Since his health was fading he called me to him and asked me point blank, ‘Boy, what do you need to set you up in this life?’ I told him I don’t need anything, I’m a man and can take care of myself, but what are you even talking about dad, you’re going to be around for decades yet. I did remind him that he had living sisters with children (my aunts and cousins).
I also reminded him that I had a full scholarship to college so don’t worry about paying me. He was dead only a year later at 59.
I, of course, have seen lots of Hollywood movies so I consider the conspiracy theory that maybe my dad’s nurse wife poisoned him and made him sign over all his funds to her, but I really honestly do not think that’s what happened.
Other relatives didn’t like Grace either, but they knew my dad was totally in love with my mom and that her death utterly broke him.
Well, long story short, my dad bequeathed his five-bedroom house to me even though I wasn’t expecting it and didn’t ask for it. He gave a small endowment to each of his sisters and their children. He left about 80% of all his existing funds to Grace, which amounted to several hundreds of thousands of dollars.
My dad ignored me because he’s generous to a fault and still gave me several tens of thousands of dollars, which were of course very useful to me.
Grace tried to put on a friendly front but I could tell she was angry that she didn’t get my dad’s house, too. That belonged to me, and I had the legal papers to prove it. She was especially mad because we live in an extremely upscale and trendy location, and houses are hard to come by and easily sold for massive profit.
During the first few months after my dad’s death, I had the nauseating, creepy experience of knowing that Grace was trying to feel me out to see if I might be into a little relationship with her. Um, GROSS.
She still stayed at the house though because over the last three years she had gotten used to living there and acting as though she owned it. And, even though I officially owned it, I was always away at college and only visited my dad’s old house once every couple of months, and even then it wasn’t to see Grace but to see my cousins who lived just a few miles away.
I downplayed the fact that it was really my house, and over the months I think Grace gradually forgot that she really had no legal right to the house. She probably believed that sooner or later, because I never asked her for any of the hundreds of thousands of my dad’s dollars that she now had, that I was somehow independently wealthy and would just give up my house to her.
I knew I’d eventually hydrogen bomb this witch when she started seeing some new guy only five months after my dad was in the ground, and one time when I came home from college after graduating she and her new (some sleazy looking jerk named “Ivan” who was only a few years older than me) were acting like I was a guest in my own house and that they owned it.
I played along.
Grace told me she gave away my Playstation 4 to Ivan’s cousin because “I’m too old to play with video games.” I don’t even know this jerk and you give him my PS4 to give away to some other person who I also don’t know? I quickly changed all my network passwords that same day.
I smiled but I knew what I had to do eventually.
She also said that she and Ivan were getting married because ‘I just can’t mourn your father forever. I have to move on with life.’ I tell her that I graduated from college and already secured employment with a local firm, and ‘will soon find a new place to live.’ She looks thrilled. Especially the part where it looks like I’ll soon have a new place to live.
Then in a patronizing way she tells me, “you always have a place in our house though, you are welcome to stay whenever you please.”
Thanks, Grace, really generous of you.
What I really say is that I will probably have a new place in three months. She says that is wonderful because she intends to go to her homeland to have a wedding with Ivan and afterward have her honeymoon.
She assures me it’s a local affair ‘otherwise I’d invite you, honey. And anyway I know you’re so busy.’ I congratulate her. She asks me if I can watch the house for her. Watch my own house? Sure. What I really say is, of course, I will take care of the house. I am careful to not say ‘your house.’
She and her jerk fiance (who I am 100% sure is only there for Grace’s bank account) go on their trip and I immediately put out advertisements on rental websites offering to lease my house.
I hire movers and have all of Grace’s furniture and possessions boxed up and put into a storage rental facility. I retain all of my parents’ furniture that they had before my dad met Grace. Locks? Changed. All of them.
Within days, I am inundated with dozens of inquiries regarding my amazing, furnished house with fantastic views. I rent it to a wonderful young family. A barrister and his schoolteacher wife and their two preteen children.
They pay me their first and last month’s rent and sign a lease for a year. I warn them about my crazy stepmom who thinks this is her house, but I present them with contact information to my lawyer (the same lawyer my dad retained) in case they need any assurance that I’m on the level.
I also give my lawyer the information about the storage facility, including the fact that I generously paid four months of storage in advance, which is a whole month longer than Grace’s Czech honeymoon adventure.
I then found a great apartment in the city near my new place of work. There I met a woman in a restaurant I frequent at night after a long workday. We have been together six months now and are engaged to be married.
Grace, of course, tried to shriek and cause trouble when she realized she got kicked out of MY house but my lawyer quickly shut her mouth without my having to ever speak to her garbage face again.
From what I hear, she and her trash husband left the country and I assume they’re blowing through my dad’s funds and will soon be broke when they taste a little bit of what they think is a good life. So maybe Grace will go and try to exploit some other lonely man into giving her his salary.
Speaking of salary, the house that I rent out is generating so much flow that I not only am able to help pay for my cousins’ college, but I moved into a larger apartment of my own, together with my fiancee.
I love my job but really, I could survive solely on renting my dad’s old house.
And to think. If Grace had only been cooler and nicer I might have let her stay at the house, just to be a good sport. And definitely, if she stayed out of my room. But no, she had to act all proprietary, so I had to make her homeless as a wedding gift.
Postscript. I bought another PS4, even though I didn’t even use my old one that much. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t for Grace to give away. You don’t give away other people’s things.
You give away your OWN things. Which is why I chose to kick Grace out of my house. Because it’s mine, and I decide who stays there.”
18. Manager Went From Making $80,000 To Losing Her Job, Just Like That
Don’t take advantage of your power because your job can slip from you in a snap at any time.
“Current job, previous manager.
I was on a team of 2, and when the lady I worked alongside quit, they decided not to replace her. I have a young child, who as children so often do, gets sick a lot. Being the only person on my team (and the most important role for our office to function since it is literally the first step in all our processes), I had a very hard time whenever I used my paid-time-off (PTO) with short notice.
I had given my manager multiple ways to fix the issue, but she never would hear any of it. She also was in a remote office so she had no clue what I did with my day. She finally sent me a very angry email basically telling me I could not use my PTO for emergencies all the time when my son got sick. I wrote back a long, detailed list of every method I suggested to fix the issue, along with the fact that I was the only person in my position for months, and that our company policy states in bold letters that using PTO because you or your loved one is sick is not only acceptable but encouraged.
My manager responded to my email by stating she would forward my concerns to HR and that I should probably polish up my resume…But HR was in our office that day. For the first time in 6 months. Great coincidence, right? So I went in, asked if I could speak about an issue concerning my manager, and explained everything as it happened. The HR rep had this look on her face like she was going to murder someone.
She asked me to forward the entire email chain to her, which I did. Then she called me back to talk to her.
A few people I talked to were aware that the manager and I had issues, and the lead of every team in our office basically told the HR rep that the entire office can’t function without me and that I’ve been doing the work of 3 people for 9 months.
Later that day, my manager sent me a very angry message over email basically saying I was fired and that I was to pack my things immediately for failing to do my job and because I was causing a hostile work environment.
I forwarded this to the HR rep, and then walked to her office and asked if I should pack my stuff. She looked at me, and in a single, sweet sentence said: ‘Not a chance, she’s royally screwed.’ And that’s basically how my manager went from making $80k a year to being fired on a Wednesday with no compensation, no benefits, and no way to collect unemployment. All around a productive day.”
17. Mess With My Flight? It'll Cost You Millions
“A long time ago, I took a trip to Turkey on their national carrier with my partner. When attempting to return home, I was told that they had overbooked the flight, and there was only one seat left. Rather than abandon each other, we were told we could catch a flight the next day instead, so we agreed to that. We were both a bit annoyed as we were due to work the next day, and our employer was not pleased that we wouldn’t be returning as agreed, but these things happen so we made the most of it.
We had to find accommodation (as where we had been staying had been booked) and pay as much for a single night as we’d spent on the entire rest of the three-day trip though.
The next day, we turned up at the airport only to be told that my ticket had expired, and I was supposed to fly yesterday. I explained the situation but was told that it was my problem, not theirs.
In the end, I had to buy another ticket, which cost me more than the entire rest of the trip including the extra day’s overnight stay. I was livid and the uncaring attitude of the staff really rubbed me the wrong way.
So when I arrived back at work I decided to make some changes. Both my girl and I were working in international events organizations, and we decided to avoid using this company in our respective organizations.
I also canceled existing flights booked using them and switched to other providers (this alone cost them tens of thousands of dollars). I did a rough calculation when I left that role a couple of years later and worked out that my boycott alone had cost them almost $300,000 and as part of my handover notes my experience with them was thoroughly chronicled along with instructions to avoid using them at all costs.
Many years later, I’d forgotten all about this until when catching up with old colleagues I was introduced to the person doing my old job, and she updated me on some of the place’s events that had recently been held, and when she was telling me, she said, “Except for Turkey, of course.” Apparently even after I’d left and several replacements had been in post, this instruction was still part of the handover notes! I told her that I was the guy who had put that in the notes and why, and she said that it was the perfect revenge.
This whole business has cost them millions of dollars by now, and I’ve no idea if my long since ex still did the same for her place of work which might mean millions more. Either way, it is something they’d never know unless they read this.”
16. Only Want A Male Employee To Help You? Well, Here You Go
“A couple of years ago, I worked at the big blue and yellow superstore as a member of the remodeling crew. Our team consisted of about 30 workers from 4 different stores in the area. Our job was basically to move all the products and shelving around and put up signage while also directing confused, frustrated customers to the new location of a product.
About a fourth of the employees on this team was Hispanic and spoke either very little or no English.
I was (and still am) a Spanish minor so I liked hanging out with them because they really helped me with my Spanish speaking skills. This is relevant later.
So one day, as I’m moving some cosmetics to their new home, I overhear a man say he hates this remodel because all the products have moved (we heard this basically 5 times a day, every day) and he doesn’t know where the drill bits for a DEWALT drill are.
Luckily, I was moving the hardware product last week and knew exactly where the drill bits he wanted were.
Our conversation went like this:
Me: ‘Hello sir, I can help you find the drill bits, I just put them away last week.’
Rude Guy: ‘I’m looking for a specific set of drill bits.’
Me: ‘I know what section they are all in and I’m sure I can help you find the ones you are looking for!’
Rude Guy: ‘Well I was actually going to ask a male employee, they know more about this stuff.
Plus I see you’re busy putting makeup away.’
Me: ‘Really sir, I’m not busy, let me show yo –’
Rude Guy: ‘No! I want a male employee! You won’t know what you’re talking about. Just find me one!’
I felt a bit defeated as this happened with female employees a decent amount of the time even though we all know where all the products are. Luckily for me, I knew the perfect employee to ask.
I went up to one of the Hispanic workers I got along with well, I will call him Mr. L, and in my best Spanglish explained the situation. He just smiled and nodded.
I took Mr. L over to Rude Guy and the conversation went something like this:
Me: ‘Here you go sir, Mr. L will be able to help!’
Mr. L: ‘¿Cómo te puedo ayudar hoy?’ (How can I help you today?)
Rude Guy: ‘What did he say?’
L: ‘Puedo ayudarte a encontrar las brocas.’ (I can help you find the bits).
Rude Guy: ‘This guy only speaks Spanish! This doesn’t help at all!’
Me: ‘Well sir, you wanted a male employee and I got you one. Everyone else in the area is busy so either he helps you or I help you.’
Mr. L: ‘Estaría encantado de ayudarte.’ (I would be happy to help you, (jerk)).
Rude Guy huffs and turns to me: ‘Fine, I guess you can show me where the drill bits are.’
And I did! I knew exactly where they were, Rude Guy found the exact set he wanted and left.
It just goes to show, you shouldn’t undermine an employee because many of them know what they are doing. I didn’t stay at that job long and now work a job I love at my university’s library.”
15. I Got $40,000 For "Accidentally" Confiding A "Secret" To A Gossiping Coworker
“I worked at a chain salon in the US for minimum wage (+tips). We got paid on a sliding scale, the more you added services the more your hourly pay. Then, for back to school, we started offering $10 haircuts. It’s dumb to offer a big discount on back to school because that’s when everyone needs a haircut but whatever.
Except, to advertise this sale we had to stand on a rickety step stool and hang a 10foot long 3foot wide banner off the roof of our store.
The step stool alone made it a dangerous task, but on top of it, the sidewalk was uneven. Our manager insisted we do it twice a day (open&close) ‘in case someone steals the banner’. Because certainly, someone would want to steal a banner with our logo that says ‘$10 Haircuts’.
It was annoying but I was looking forward to my next paycheck. I had a high service dollar per hour which should’ve meant a bigger hourly pay & paycheck.
Except it didn’t. That $7/haircut discount? It was coming out of our final service dollar calculations and we ended up making significantly less than usual! I’d worked there for years and this was the smallest back-to-school paycheck I’d ever seen.
I went in the next day and was angry. That morning, a coworker (who was a total brown-nose & gossip) and I were outside setting up the banner.
It was my turn to stand on the rickety step stool and I said I was ‘glad this will be the last time I ever do this!’ I was fully prepared to make a joke about how I was going to fall and crack my head open when the petty revenge idea came into my mind and I swiftly executed it. When she asked why I told her not to tell anyone but I’d accepted a job at another salon with a set schedule, higher commission, and $5 more an hour.
I said I’d planned on putting in my two weeks but they needed me to start sooner so I was going to work the weekend and not come back. This would leave us understaffed for the back-to-school rush. After reiterating she could NOT tell ANYONE, especially not our boss, she agreed.
I left early that day and on my next shift, my boss pulled me into her office.
She said she’d ‘heard a rumor’ that I was leaving to work at a different salon. I told her I had a much better offer elsewhere but if she could match that I would love to stay. She had to put a call into our district leader about the raise but said I could work with a set schedule starting the following week. I was working until 9 pm some days and at 9 am the next, the unpredictable schedule made finding childcare a pain in the butt! I was consistently ranked #2 in sales for our store and the district, so the DL approved the raise and I stayed there another five years! This means I got an additional $39,000 in pay for ‘accidentally’ telling the salon gossip my ‘secret’.
I also got a 20% commission on $500-$1000 a week in product sales.
I also started printing out my service sales slip from the day before at the beginning of every shift, so that when payroll ‘readjusted’ the paychecks to include coupons I could pull up my record and dispute it. According to payroll, there was nothing they could do about it. I stayed another five years, raising the issue sporadically until they brought back the $10/haircut sale and I quit.
A few months after I left I was made aware that a different employee in another state filed a class-action lawsuit and I got a letter asking if I wanted to be a part of it. I accepted and the lawyer loved receiving five years’ worth of documentation, emails from corporate and payroll, etc. they had to go back through all of my paychecks and compensate me for the difference. This included adding the free haircuts (reward program) and discounted haircuts as their whole amount, increasing the service dollar. .19 cents an hour here and .30 cents an hour there added up and despite the fact that the settlement was split with a lot of people I got $10k from that in addition to my adjusted pay which was around half the settlement amount.”
14. Karen Only Wants Me To Check I.D.s When It's Not Hers
No Karen wants to sabotage themselves, of course.
“I work in a casual fine dining restaurant in a downtown area.
Prices aren’t crazy but high enough that we don’t get a super young crowd. The average age of our dinner crowd is 30 to 60 although it varies more on the weekend. I only include this information so you understand why I didn’t initially ask for identification (even though you should always check).
Thursday night a table of 4 comes in for early dinner; two entitled moms and their daughters. Excellent. I’m ready for them to split entrees and tip me 15%. Not the WORST type of table if we’re being honest, but nonetheless. They order a pitcher of sangria and I tell them I’ll be right back with that for them to which mom #1 says to me, ‘You really aren’t going to check these girls’ IDs? Her birthday was just last month.
Aren’t you supposed to check anyone who looks under 40?’
She is correct, of course, that I should have asked for identification even though the girls were with their mothers and I was being lazy by assuming they were of age since their moms did not stop them from ordering drinks.
I agree with her and tell her that I actually am supposed to check ALL IDs regardless of age and proceed to look at all 4 of the ladies’ IDs.
Unfortunately for mom, her birthday was a few days previously and her ID had expired. In the state of Michigan, it is illegal to serve booze to anyone with an expired ID regardless of age so I had to deny her a glass of the sangria while her daughter and friend shared a pitcher.
She also threw a fit when I denied her a glass of sangria.
She informed me that she, a business owner, is more aware of the law than I, a mere server, could ever be. I simply couldn’t ‘just do my job’ and bring her a glass. My generation doesn’t respect elders and blah blah blah. Her daughters were a little embarrassed but I tried to move past it and serve them the rest of their meal normally.
Mom kept huffing and puffing but said no when I offered to bring a manager over.”
13. Brag About Pranking An Elderly Woman? Things Are About To Get Messy For You
Now THIS is something to brag about!
“For backstory, this story isn’t mine. It’s my grandpa’s. Since he died before I was born, this has just been one of those family stories that I’ve heard since I was a little girl.
My family has a lot of those, which I may tell if I find the willpower to do so. It may not be 100% what happened but the main points where a bully got covered in poop are.
My grandpa grew up in rural Iowa, I’m not gonna say where exactly but Iowa is basically all cornfields anyway, so ya probably got a mental image in your head already. He was always a stand-up guy, and despite this happening over 70 years ago at this point, you can still hear people speak very highly of the boy scout of a man that my grandpa was; I sincerely wish I knew him.
At this point, my grandpa was in his junior year of high school and despite being well-loved in his community, he had his bully; everyone has that one bully. His bully though just seemed to be rude to everyone. Teachers, Parents, kids, there was even a small-town cop fresh to the force who got bullied at one point. No one seemed to stand up to this stupid little high schooler that thought he knew everything.
It got to the point where he’d go out of his way to brag about it to people.
This did not sit right with my grandpa, but he didn’t really know how to stand up to him without making things worse when it came to how he was being bullied. But, one day, mistakes were made.
My grandpa was getting a pop at a gas station with his friends, and this particular gas station had a restaurant attached since it was a good spot for people to pass through, on road trips, or for a truck stop.
And in the restaurant was the bully laughing loudly with his little weasely friends. My grandpa listened, just sipping his drink, and heard that they were going to pull a prank on an elderly woman that owned a farmhouse nearby.
This woman’s house wasn’t in town since her family had built that house long ago and worked the land around it. She was widowed, her children had moved away, and she hired people to help her maintain the place.
Despite her age, I’ve been told that she was still a spitfire and insisted on doing a lot of the farming herself. The main issue with her health was heavy lifting.
Anyway, back to the supposed ‘prank’. This woman didn’t have indoor plumbing, which meant that she got water from a spigot near her house and that she had an outhouse instead of a normal bathroom that we had today.
For those of you that aren’t entirely aware of how Iowa farm outhouses work, it’s basically a big pit in the ground that someone digs, and then they stick a wooden shack on top of it. The shack then has a seat with a hole in it for a person to relieve themselves in. The bullies were going to wait until the dead of night so that they could tip the outhouse over.
My grandpa was furious when he heard this. He had been hired before by her for summer work and knew that she was a strict but kind woman that didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Because when your only outhouse is tipped over, and ya gotta go, there’s no way you’re gonna be able to lift it, and there’s no way to safely crouch next to the hole without falling in.
So my grandpa did the right thing and immediately went with his friends to tell the old lady what was being planned. They expected her to be furious when they told her the story, but instead, she sipped her coffee and gave them a chilling smile.
‘Let them, but we’ll have a surprise for them…’
And she let them in on a plan to make sure that things wouldn’t go as far as the bullies had planned.
That night, my grandpa and his friends, telling their parents that they were at one another’s houses to hang out, all gathered at the old woman’s house, munching on some cookies and pumpkin bread (my grandpa got the recipe off her and it’s an amazing recipe that my family uses to this day) and waited.
At around 11 o’clock, they heard disgusted screams from the direction of the outhouse.
You see, the way that the yard was set up, was so that there was only one way to get into the yard and still have enough room to take a running start to tip the outhouse over.
My grandpa and his friends, didn’t tip the outhouse over, but they did move it over about 5 feet, and lightly covered the now exposed hole in excess corn stalks from the harvest.
The screams were from my grandpa’s bully being waist-deep in human excrement. The bully’s friends were frozen in place by the gate they came in, and the old woman immediately turned on the lights and started yelling that if they didn’t get off her property that minute, that she was going to call the police. My grandpa and his friends waited inside and heard the whole thing, laughing when they heard the pitiful cries from the garbage pit and the running of feet from the co-conspirators.
Wouldn’t you know it, he couldn’t get out himself, and since he wasn’t getting off her property, she called the police.
My grandpa and his friends watched from a window as the poop fiend was dragged out of his rancid prison and made to go to the police station to explain just what he was doing. He wasn’t an adult so he wasn’t charged, from what I was told, but word got out around the school and his last two years of high school were an absolute nightmare. No one knew it was grandpa and the old lady never told a soul. Thank you, old lady.
May you rest in peace, you wonderful woman.”
12. Always Document Everything
“When I worked as a case manager as an MHMR (Mental health and disability services worker), we had a new department supervisor come in and she was the worst.
Every single person but myself and another case manager quit within the month of this woman starting. I really liked my job and it was also my internship site for my master’s degree so I needed to stay employed there.
Since so many people quit, this lady got permission to hire and it soon became obvious that she wanted to get rid of anyone she hadn’t hired and have a department full of people she had personally chosen (surprise surprise, most of her hires were awful just like her).
On top of being an awful human, she also had very little background in mental health and gave truly awful ‘supervision’ when it came to clients and getting them the services they needed.
Since I wasn’t a part of the people she had hired, I knew she would try to get rid of me so I made sure to document document document everything. Any time I staffed a client with her, I would document her advice in that person’s chart as well as the actions I took due to her advice.
I also kept a detailed paper trail and would email her questions about policy so that I’d have a record of her answers which usually were the opposite of what our policy actually was.
She even started walking to my desk to verbally give me answers to the questions I sent via email and I’d have to make up some excuse as to why I needed her to answer in an email. Like I would tell her a parent or client had asked and I wanted to be able to give them a verbatim answer. I could tell she hated it.
Anyway, several months later, I staffed a client with her who I believed needed to be hospitalized and wanted to run it by her first as she demanded. The kid was in a bad place, homicidal, and impulsive which is a recipe for disaster. She disagreed that this kid needed hospitalization and told me to refer the client to another agency because apparently the client was too high risk for us but didn’t need to be hospitalized? I tried to get her to agree to just calling a crisis to assess her but she denied that as well.
I documented what she told me to do and referred out. Well literally a day later, this kid gets his hands on a gun before going to school and gets in a ton of trouble obviously (thankfully he was stopped as soon as he stepped through the metal detectors). Mom is mad that my agency just referred him out and didn’t get him the help he needed.
My supervisor’s supervisor is super angry as this is a PR nightmare and comes down on my supervisor but since I was the direct care staff assigned to this client, my supervisor blamed it all on me. I ended up getting fired for my ‘negligence.’ However, the higher up of course carefully went through this kid’s records and saw all of my documentation regarding the awful decisions my supervisor had made which led the higher up to investigate even more.
Basically, there was Medicaid fraud being committed, this lady was lying about her mileage and being reimbursed way more than she should, and all this other lovely stuff. So she was fired as well. I was asked to come back but forget that place and its corruption.”
11. I Can't Be Your Only Lover? To The Jail Cell You Go
“This happened years ago when I was around 18 and seeing a girl I had gone to high school with.
We had been together for about a year and towards the last month of our relationship things started to die out, we wouldn’t talk as much and she never had time for me. She claimed she was always working at her family’s grocery store. Her family had their own business for years.
It was a small grocery store that at one point while I was in between jobs I even worked at for a short time. Her family was lovely, and her father and I got along great and still chat every now and then because I was always working or studying, didn’t party, and had set goals for myself early in life which her father thought was awesome.
So anyway, back to our relationship. Because we both worked we only had the weekends free so usually, we would do our best to spend time with each other, but she had grown distant and I hadn’t thought anything of it. But one weekend I receive a call from a friend of mine who tells me she had seen my girl out with another guy. I didn’t want to believe it, I was devastated.
But I thought before I throw any accusations I would get my own proof first. It took me almost 3 weeks to convince her to spend time with me. When she agreed and came over for a night after work, I had planned on confronting her to find out for myself.
She arrived shortly after dark and told me she was going to have a shower. She went into the bathroom but had left her phone with her bag and keys on the table.
So I did what anyone who has been told they were being unfaithful would do, I went through her phone to see for myself. And what do you know, she was being unfaithful to me with her ex-man who was a dirtbag.
You see he was one of the kids at school that messed around, never came to school. Was out smoking and drinking instead. I never really interacted with him outside of being asked for a lighter for a smoke.
But he was also selling substances at school. I’ve always thought people who sell stuff like that to kids are dirtbags. Not cool at all bro.
I found out she had been going to see him on the weekends to do illegal substances and drink as well as sleep with him. There were messages talking about how I was “too nice” or focused on work too much.
How she’s only with me because her family loves me and I can handle that if you tell me that, not be unfaithful to me because of it. I would rather leave a relationship freely. This hit me really hard and messed with my perception of women afterward. I had never had a partner go behind my back before and didn’t know how to handle the feeling
But I wasn’t going to let her do me like that.
Here comes the sweet revenge. You see in those messages they had been talking about needing funds for substances and whatnot, this conversation led to him convincing her to steal it from her family business. She had been getting away with almost 800 dollars or so every weekend as well as stealing items from their shop. So I thought fast, screenshot all the messages, and sent them to her father from her phone.
I told him it was me, and that this is what I had found on his daughter’s phone.
Shortly after she had finished up in the shower. I told her we were finished and I knew everything. I told her to leave and I had a surprise for her when she got home to which she was confused. She left after that and I received a call from her dad who apologized to me for his daughter’s actions and sounded almost as devastated as I was.
He told me he had already called the police and they were waiting for her to get back home as well as to collect her ex-partner as an accomplice.
I was shocked but thankful that I had cut the dead weight from my life in a just fashion considering she saw another guy behind my back.
She got to spend the night in a cell with her ex and was ordered to pay back the amount by a judge and given community service. He on the other had happened to have previous warrants out and I don’t know what happened to him after. I wiped my hands clean of her and moved forward. But man, that felt so much better that she at least got some punishment as a result.”
10. I'll Put An End To Your Annoying Noises
“So to begin this story I have to explain, I’m a college student in Portugal.
I was born and raised in Azores (some little islands in the middle of the Atlantic ocean), and in order to pursue college, I had to move to the mainland, and for this, I had to rent an apartment. It’s a good apartment, 3 rooms, 2 bathrooms, a living room, and a kitchen.
It’s in a quiet neighborhood, so it was all good until they started to do construction work in the apartment above.
This construction work was done by a TV show called, ‘Querido Mudei a Casa’ that literally translates to ‘Honey, I Changed the House.’ It’s quite famous here. They remodel the entire house, replacing everything in it with new furniture, new floor, you get it, so THEY MAKE A LOT OF NOISE.
I’m not the party kind of guy and I’m quite calm and peaceful. I like to stay home, have some friends here, drink a bit, play some games, etc. Also, I do a lot of my college work at night in the apartment (I spend most of the day in class).
So to explain this, Portugal has a law that you can make noise from 8 am to 6 pm.
Most of my classes start around 11 and 12 pm which works great for me since I go to sleep around 4 am due to all the work I have to do and plus a little time for myself.
But this means they started drilling the floor at around 8 am EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
My housemate and I were shocked by the amount of noise they were doing.
We let it pass since they shouldn’t take more than a week to replace the floor (make that assumption based on how my dad and I did it once to our house back on the island) but no, that noise lasted for the entire time they were there. I got a bit upset since I couldn’t sleep but I also couldn’t leave the college work undone.
So I decided to try and talk with the crew.
I went to the upstairs apartment and knocked, then came this really fat and short guy looking at me like I wasn’t even there. The talk went like this:
Me: ‘Hi, I’m from the apartment below.’
Fat Guy: ‘Hey, what do you want?’
Me: ‘I was gonna ask if you guys could start the drilling at around 10 am, I’m a college student and I do most of my work at night, sometimes I only get to sleep in the morning, is this possible??’
FG: ‘Nah, we have a job to do, you should go to sleep earlier if you want to sleep.’
He closes the door, I was upset but remain calm, after all, it kinda is my fault if I go to bed at that time.
Some time goes by and the noise continues, I get grumpier and grumpier, I call the customer service of the show, they said politely that there is nothing they can do about it since it’s in the legal rights, I should talk with the guys in the apartment so we can come to a conclusion.
Weeks go by, I’m wondering, ‘That apartment is the same size as mine, how the heck are they taking so long ?’ until a glorious morning I wake up, normal routine, I go to the bathroom to take a shower, and when I turn on the light what do I see? My bathroom full of clay, everything completely dirty, rocks everywhere, and a damn hole right on top of the toilet.
I’m furious. My housemate arrives home that morning, he is NOT a calm person. We both go to the upper apartment, and I convinced him to let me talk. He agrees.
I knock on the door. To my surprise, it’s the same fat guy, but this time he was looking at me.
Me: ‘Umm, You guys opened a hole in my bathroom.’
Fay Guy: ‘Yeah yeah, we know, we already covered our part.’
Me: ‘Okay, but what about ours?’
FG: ‘Can’t you guys fix it? I mean, you are men, can’t you fix the house?’
My friend is furious, but I calmly put my hand on him and keep talking.
Me: ‘No way, you broke it, you’re gonna fix it unless we have to call the landlord and sue your show for this.’
FG: ‘Okay okay, we will fix it, no need to get all formal.’
We came back to the house and we could hear them making fun of us because of the hole. My friend is furious, but I’m calm because I already thought of a way to get back at them.
A couple of days go by when they finally decide to fix the hole. Two nice guys come down and fix it, and said they were sorry and everything. We chatted, they were cool, but my revenge was already planned, sorry dudes.
My friend and I both have JBL speakers, the good ones that can really play loud, this is where it begins. Every day I started to go to bed early, so I can be up at 8 am.
First I take a shower and set up for college, then plug both of the speakers into my laptop, search for inappropriate sounds, leave the volume up – maximum – and let it play in a loop until I get home, around 6 pm.
Oooh, my amusement was sky-high.
My housemate agreed with this since we both started to leave the apartment earlier, until one day we heard a knock on our door.
IT WAS THE FAT GUY.
Fat Guy: ‘HEEEEEY, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING BUT IT HAS TO STOP, WE ARE RECORDING TODAY AND WE CAN’T HAVE THOSE WEIRD NOISES IN THE BACKGROUND.’ (They record the episodes in the house but they could easily use a studio to authenticate the sound. They are really cheap when it comes to saving funds.)
Me: ‘Nah, since you are in the legal right to make noise from 8 am to 6 pm, I am too, I can make all the noise I want in that period of time.’
Fat Guy: ‘That will really affect the show and you know that people love this show, probably your Mother watches it and loves it too!’
Me: ‘Maybe, but she knows how things are around here so she doesn’t really mind.
I don’t really mind and the landlord doesn’t mind, can’t you fix it yourself?’
The fat guy goes mad, starts stomping the ground as he turns around and leaves.
This continues, I see the camera crew arriving from my window, they enter the apartment, knock on my door, I didn’t even answer. Just some loud and lewd noises ALL DAY.
This goes for 3 days straight with the camera crew, but one day they never tried knocking on our door again.
I think the episode was canceled due to the noise. The funniest part is that this renovation IS FREE. The only revenue gained is based on the viewership of the episodes.
It puts a smile on my face when I know that they just wasted a budget for nothing.”
Another User Comments:
“I used to work on several TV shows that sound very much like this one, but in the US. I and every single one of the crew members would have found that to be literally the funniest thing ever. The producers would have been livid, which the crew would also have found quietly hilarious. But the film crew, guaranteed we would still be laughing about the shoot we had to cancel and would delight in telling the story to new folks.” arniegrape
9. This Professor Was No Longer Welcome To Teach
“When I was in University, I did a six-month exchange program in Spain.
I took 4 classes while I was there and all had equivalent credit at my university in Canada. I was getting As in all of my classes except one class where I was really struggling.
Getting a failing grade on an assignment in that class finally broke me. The prof for this class was the worst.
It was an intermediate Spanish class and he was marking us like he thought we should all be writing Shakespeare. Not only that but how he told us to complete assignments versus how he marked them would be completely incongruent. He expected us to be doing things that he never taught us and he should not have been expecting in the first place from an intermediate Spanish class.
I realized it wasn’t just my problem when the girl from France, whose Spanish was far better than anyone else in the class, started crying one day after she got an assignment back and begging to understand why she was marked so poorly. He just pointed at her assignment like that was the only explanation required and then ignored her after that.
There was no way to drop the class or switch into another because of the way it was built into the exchange program so I decided I would start emailing the teacher constantly after he gave us assignments, clarifying every little point, coming back with follow up questions to try and figure out what the heck it was he actually wanted from us, spending way more time on assignments than they deserved.
That way if I failed I would have this record showing how hard I was working in the class to bring to administration if I needed to fight it and all the discrepancies between how he provided assignments versus how he marked them.
A couple of days before the final exam, teacher evaluation forms came around and I could tell by how long it took all of us to turn them in that I wasn’t the only one in the class unloading on this guy.
This was his first-semester teaching at the university so if his teacher evaluations didn’t go well he wouldn’t be invited back. If I failed this class then at least that butthole wouldn’t be doing this to someone else next semester.
We get our final marks a week later and I’ve managed to pull a C- out of my butt. Great, just squeaked by. Then with final marks dispersed he’s allowed to see his teacher evaluations.
He sent an email to the entire class that night and lost his freaking mind. We’re talking sections with all caps, multiple exclamation marks, telling us how freaking stupid we all are and how we don’t know what we’re talking about. He’s the greatest teacher alive and we’re all just bad students. Complete meltdown.
The next morning I found another email, from the university this time, stating that professor butthole is no longer with the university and will not be welcome back again followed by numerous apologies regarding his behavior. I inquired about our grades in light of what happened but I guess they weren’t that apologetic because they refused to change them.
8. Force Me To Wear A Tie? They Won't Be Very Pretty
“I worked for a computer warehouse-type superstore. Right after I was hired I learned it was not a great job.
Almost everyone hated it, but you had some potential to make good commissions in sales so people kept their heads down and never questioned anything. Most competent people never stayed longer than a year and employee turnover was huge. Truly a terrible place to work.
I had recently sold my computer store and was taking a year off.
After a few months, I got bored and got this job as a part-time to get me out of the house and stuff. Being in this position gave me some freedoms some of the other people who worked there didn’t have. If someone was complaining about something, I was more than happy to bring it up with management since I didn’t care if I got fired.
I’m pretty sure the store manager hated me.
The dress code for guys was a white button-down shirt, tie, and some form of Dockers type pants. Since this job didn’t pay much for the non-sales staff, many employees had cheap ill-fitting button-down shirts and one cheap tie. Honestly, the staff would have looked better in a store-branded t-shirt or polo shirt. But since this store was crazy cheap, that would cost them overhead, and you can’t have that.
I’ve got a collection of some really nice ties I’d collected over the past 15 or so years – mostly vintage silks from the ’50s and ’60s. I actually hardly ever wore ties, but collecting them was a little hobby of mine. If I saw a particularly nice one, I’d nab it.
One morning I was getting ready and managed to forget my tie. It was about a 40-minute drive to work and I noticed my missing tie when I got out of the car at work.
No big deal I thought.
About an hour into my shift I get pulled aside by my direct manager. I explain I somehow forgot about my tie and didn’t really think it was a big deal. I also explained I was 40 minutes away from home and didn’t have time to go back before my shift started. My direct manager was pretty cool, but he has his stupid rules to follow so I got passed over to HR and the store manager.
The store manager acted like I just poured epoxy into all the toilets. He was crazy angry at me. He lectured me for 25 minutes about the importance of the dress code, how those that don’t follow it aren’t ‘team players,’ and how, if it happens again, I’ll be looking for a new job.
He actually made me read the section in the employee handbook on the dress code ‘so I knew it and could follow it to the letter.’ All this over a tie.
I got written up and sent home to get my tie.
Since I was 40 minutes from home I just went to a local store, bought a cheap tie, and hung out at a cafe for an hour.
That weekend, I went thrift store shopping. I spent all day hitting every thrift store I could find. I found the ugliest, widest, most horrendous ties I could find. Massive 1970’s brown vomit-colored ties, ugly green avocado-colored ties as large as a lobster bib, patterns that made eyes bleed – polyester atrocities time forgot.
I also bought some Christmas ties with Santa and holiday wreaths (it was summertime). To top it off I bought some terrible oversized white button-down shirts – a few were just off-white enough they looked almost dirty.
My next day at work I went from being the guy who looked fairly sharp to someone who looked like they escaped a mental ward in the 70s.
My direct manager saw me and started to laugh.
He got it. He just patted me on the back and I was back to work. The store manager saw me later in the day and was not pleased, but since there was no wording in the employee guidelines on ties being within reason, or shirts fitting, he couldn’t do anything.
I’m sure he thought it was just a fluke for the day. Sadly, he was wrong.
My ties just got worse and worse as I uncovered them in thrift stores and garage sales over the next few weeks. I’d tie them short or uneven so the back hung lower from the front. I’d triple wrap a Four in Hand knot to make it look wrong and sideways. I found so many I started giving other people these terrible ties and within a few weeks, 1/4 of the people in my department looked completely ridiculous.
I ended up quitting about a month or so later.
My last day at work I distributed all my atrocities to everyone I knew at work to let my tie legacy live on.”
7. Close ALL Your Accounts? We Can Do That
“I used to work for a bank on their contact center. I literally have hundreds of stories about that place and its customers, but today I’d like to share a story that has always bought a smile to many a suffering customer service co-worker’s faces about the time we got one back for the good guys.
Backstory: I was employed as a Customer Service Officer. I’d been with the bank for about 18 months at this point, mostly working afternoon shifts, but recently the bank had moved to a 24-hour customer service model, so while most of the bank would be closed (Head office, Complaints, Credit, etc) — we were still open.
Let me set the scene: ~10 pm, midweek, fluorescent lights flicker overhead, the call board empty and I’m literally counting the seconds left in my shift, ready to go home.
Phone call pops onto my screen. I think ‘Darn! I always get a call just before I finish…’
Me (mustering my best customer service voice): ‘Hi, thanks for calling (bank), you’re speaking with OP, how can I help you?’
I hear nothing but dead air, so I start to repeat myself.
‘Hi, you’re speaking wi—’
When I hear the tone of voice and words every contact center worker has heard at some point. It just lets you know you’re in for a great call (not!).
Customer: (loud sigh) ‘Yes! I’m here! God, what takes YOU people so long to answer?! What are you doing?’
As noted before, there were no calls on the board, this customer didn’t wait in a queue.
He would have dialed, gone through to the IVR to enter his customer number and pin before being put through to me. Max 60 seconds.
Me (trying to not provoke any further and get this customer off the phone as quickly as I can so I can go home): ‘Oh, I’m sorry about that. Our system doesn’t show a queue, but I’m sorry that you had to wait.
What can I do for you this evening?’
The customer seems to settle down and starts explaining that the reason for the call was the interest charges on the most recent credit card bill. He was sure they were a mistake because ‘I always pay my bills on time’ and ‘I don’t like paying you bloodsuckers anymore than I have to.’ Charming, I know.
So I place him on hold to look at his account.
I started looking at the payment history, when payments were due/received, what the balances were etc. Then, I quickly looked at the customer’s interaction notes. This is where the bank records any contact with the customer as well as, any fee waivers, special interest rates, etc., and I see an interesting series of notes from colleagues of mine stating things like ‘Customer advised interest was charged due to full payment not received by the due date.
Customer threatened to close all accounts with the bank. The manager approved the interest waiver.’ Notes like this went on for months until there was a note from the head of customer relations and retentions stating ‘if customer threatens to close accounts to seek a waiver of fees, interest or other charges, please process immediately. No retention authorized.’
I was a bit shocked because usually, the bank would do a lot to keep existing customers like they told us in training, ‘it’s cheaper to keep a customer than it’s to gain a new one.’
So I call over my night manager to read the notes and give him a heads up I’ve got a feeling the customer is going to be demanding another interest waiver.
My cool night manager said, ‘well if he does, do what the note says.’
Total hold time: maybe 2 minutes.
I take the customer off hold and thank him for waiting.
Customer: ‘About time! My time is very valuable, you know. So have you fixed it yet?’
I start explaining that the interest charges are valid because he didn’t pay off his balance before the due date.
He goes ballistic!
He starts calling me every conceivable name under the sun and mid-sentence stops, he plays it like he’s just had an idea.
‘Fine. If the interest charges are valid, I’m going to close my accounts. I want to close my accounts with you now!’
At this point, I’m excited about putting him in his place but I also want to cover my butt, so I ask:
Me: ‘So, just to be certain. You are instructing me to close all of your accounts with us, including your credit card, savings account, and transactional account?’
Customer: ‘Are you stupid? That’s what I said!’
Ladies and Gentlemen: We got him!
Me (Grinning my butt off): ‘Okay no problem.
I’ll just place you on hold to do that for you.’
I hit the hold button fast just as I heard him say, ‘No I—…’
With my night manager’s help, we close his accounts.
His savings account was a term deposit so by breaking the term early he had to pay an early access fee of 10% of the balance. We used the funds in his transactional account to cover the outstanding balance in his credit card (including the interest) and sent a request for a cheque to be issued for what remained.
I took the customer off hold.
Me: ‘Again thank you for your patience. As requested your accounts are now closed. Was there anything else I can help with tonight?’
If I thought the customer went ballistic before, oh boy! There was talk of suing the bank, suing me, suing my night manager, suing the head of customer relations and retentions.
That we were guilty of discrimination. That I didn’t have the authority to do what I did.
He’s going to call the police. We’re thieves. Some other ways of telling me how useless I am and how I can kill myself. You get the picture.
Me (still smiling because I know I nor anyone else at my bank will have to deal with this again): ‘Sir I understand you are upset. However, on a recorded phone call, you instructed me to close your accounts.
I’ve complied with your wishes. As there is nothing else for us to speak about tonight. Thank you for calling (bank) have a good night!’ And hung up on him before he could say another word.
My night manager created an incident report and sent it to the head of customer relations and retentions with an attached copy of the call recording. I later found out the head of customer relations and retentions sent the customer a letter telling him he was banned from our bank for life due to the ‘vile and disgusting’ way he had spoken to me! We would never do business with him ever again and if he called or visited a branch, we would be the ones calling the police.
Do you want to know what the total interest charges were that started all this? ~$30.
His term deposit had $20,000 in it. He cost himself $2,000 in early exit fees because he thought he could bully his way out of ~$30 in interest.”
Another User Comments:
“This reminds me of when I closed my internet service account.
I called because my building had a special deal posted if paid for the whole year upfront, and I’d been vaguely annoyed for a while that my sister was paying less than me from the same ISP for better service.
I thought I’d see if they could give me the posted deal on a month-to-month basis (we rent and weren’t sure at the time if we’d be here another year).
But my plan had also just jumped up after another promo rate ended and they had told me I could call and renew the rate I already had after 6 months, so I figured if all else failed, no problem, I would just do that.
I had a friendly chat with the customer service rep and he said he couldn’t do the special deal at all by himself because it’s not one of their regular ones, so he’d transfer me to a customer retention rep. No problem.
Cue customer retention rep. He can’t do what I was hoping for so I ask if I can renew my current plan instead as I’ve been promised.
But he has a special deal for me: instead of paying $35 per month as I have been, he’s authorized to offer me 6 months for only $246! Great savings according to him! He actually quoted me some random amount of savings too, like “you’ll save $48” or something. This was years ago and I don’t remember his exact phrasing (or the exact values, these are all examples) but he was telling me an outright lie.
I confirmed the monthly amount with him, then basically said “you’re telling me that your $41/mo plan is cheaper than my $35/mo plan.”
I was so angry he would lie outright in an attempt to trick me into a more expensive plan that I closed my account on the spot.
The part that reminded me was OP’s “just to confirm, you’d like to close all your accounts…”
This guy put me on hold for nearly 40 minutes. I threw it on speakerphone in the background, fully aware he was doing it out of spite. Doesn’t matter, I found a better ISP that doesn’t force me to call in every six months for a decent rate, so I won.” faiora
6. Using Malicious Compliance To Refuse Working During Vacation
“I work for a small company in the trades as head of the IT department (aka the only IT person). Truthfully, the gig is pretty great. Good pay, benefits, and I can come and go as I please within reason. The two people I have to answer to are the VP and CEO and as is par for the course they know nothing about anything to do with technology and generally leave me be as I’m good at my job and everything runs smoothly.
Being a small company a lot of us don’t take vacations due to A) building the company and B) not having replacements for the time we’re gone but after two years vacationless (we’re in the US) my wife convinces me to use the time I’m given to decompress and take a small, one week, getaway. I talk to VP and he gives me the thumbs up to take the time barring I get everything in order and do some minor teaching to other staff in case of an emergency.
Enter FOD (Field Operations Director) a man who is an attack dog for the VP for no reason as the VP is nothing but polite and reasonable. FOD loves giving everyone a hard time, adding steps to tasks to make himself look like he’s part of the process, reminding everyone how much of a ‘boss’ he is to the rest of us in management, and calling me a nerd any chance he gets.
Fair to say, I dislike FOD immensely.
After making my rounds with other staff it’s FODs time to do some scary computer-related learning. FOD refuses to look weak under any circumstances and gets very aggressive when learning new things because ‘I’m the boss, I already know.’ In the midst of learning, it dawns on him to ask why he has to learn this stuff anyway, I’m the nerd and it’s my job to do this.
I clue him in on the week I’m taking off and this stuff is just precautionary. This worries FOD as he’ll have to retain information, answer questions and do some minor troubleshooting.
The conversation went something like this, and I wish I could tell you that this guy isn’t this much of a jerk, but he is.
Boss: ‘Who approved your vacation?’
Me: ‘VP did as long as I could get you guys comfortable with some small maintenance.’
Boss: ‘I only approve vacation time, I’m your boss.’
(Side note: he does THIS so much that VP actually wrote out the hierarchy in chart form and we all carry a digital copy with us to remind him who he’s actually in charge of)
Me: ‘You’re not.’ (shows chart)
Boss: ‘Well fine! But you’re salary so you have to work during your vacation.
You’ll bring your laptop and work phone with you.’
Me: ‘When YOU vacation you make it very clear you’re unreachable and can’t be bothered even if it’s an emergency.’
Boss: ‘That’s because I go to places without service and unless you’re going to the mountains you have to work! You’re salary!’
Malicious Compliance initiated.
Me: ‘Just to be clear; if I go to a place without service I won’t be expected to work, yeah?’
Boss: ‘That’s right, but you’re a nerd you don’t do anything outdoorsy.’
Me: ‘Great, thanks for clearing that up.’
Fast forward 3 weeks later and it’s vacation time.
All my ducks are in a row, people are comfortable with me being gone for the week and are all encouraging me to just disconnect.
A close coworker of mine knows of the conversation FOD and I had and asks what I plan to do about it so I shared my easy but effective plan.
The wife and I rented a cabin in the woods, 2 hours from the nearest town and it doesn’t have service.
I set up automatic email replies that have all IT questions and concerns forwarded to the Boss since ‘he’s the boss, he knows.’ I leave my work phone on the charger in my office with the ringer on, the door locked so he has to hear it, and voicemail changed to have FOD become IT for the week.
Coworker loves the idea of flooding FOD with questions he can’t answer so much that he gets other coworkers in on it.
Midway through the week, I get a call from a coworker with an update: FOD loses it. He can’t keep up with any requests for help and didn’t bother to memorize the simple tasks I showed him so he does what any good ‘boss’ does and puts in a request to take a vacation until I get back. A retreat is always an option. Nothing screams leader more than retreat.
It’s not weakness and failure if he’s not there!
My coworkers were able to manage and FOD got his 3-day vacation, unfortunately.
After the week off I’m called to VP’s office to catch up and get things back on track. VP obviously heard of the hardships FOD faced in my absence and laughed at my MC surprisingly. VP struck a deal with me moving forward since it was made clear to him no one else knew how to do my job: I can go on vacation wherever I’d like as long as I bring my laptop and phone and check it once a week. They’ll refund my vacation time for that day even if I only work for 5 minutes.
I took that but with the caveat of making FOD actually learn some of my duties just in case.
VP agreed. Now I do an hour of teaching a week to a very surly FOD. After all, he’s ‘the boss’ he’s gotta know.”
5. Say Support Staff Can't Fold Napkins? Then Get No Napkins
It’s not rocket science.
“The restaurant has two floors, with two-floor bussers per floor. When bussers arrive, our job used to be folding napkins for use in the service ahead. As one would expect when you put a bunch of high schoolers (and one outlying college student, hi) together, folding napkins was not a priority but catching up on gossip was. On a normal morning, I folded a majority of the napkins used during lunch simply because I was faster and could talk while doing so.
Meanwhile, the Back Bus had to set up all the bus stations before he could join the rest of us, and the wait staff set up everything else.
One day, Bob, our lunch manager, decides the floor bussers are not doing enough to help get the restaurant ready for service. His plan to fix this? Bussers were no longer allowed to fold napkins. Instead, we had new set-up chores.
At first, we bussers tried to strike a balance by having two-floor buses do the new chores and two do the folding, but nope, all bussers had to do the new chores, there would be no more folding of the napkins unless chores were done. If they weren’t done, oh well. From now on, folding napkins was added to the Back Bus’s list of duties. I also worked nights, so I didn’t find this bit out until my next lunch shift.
I want to give a shout-out to the Back Bus of this story for actually agreeing to go along with this. The dude was a champ and still is.
The Malicious Compliance:
We didn’t fold napkins. We performed our new chores. Meanwhile, the Back Bus did all his normal setup chores and then furiously folded napkins. However, as expected, we ran out about 2/3 of the way through the shift.
Servers started folding napkins just to reset tables and they complained to Bob because they were doing our job (god forbid the waiters had to bus a table). Bob demanded to know why there weren’t any napkins, why isn’t Back Bus folding them? Turns out, he was doing one of the dozen other more pressing tasks like running dishes or taking out the trash. Annoyed that Back Bus is doing his actual job, Bob ordered one of the floor bussers to go fold napkins.
We manage to get through the shift, and the dinner shift starts coming in. The dinner bussers get to folding and are confused as to why there are no napkins. We tell them that lunch bussers are no longer allowed to fold napkins.
I had a few dinner shifts. Meanwhile, the same thing plays out during the lunch shifts: floor bussers do their new chores, Back Bus can’t do it all, and they run out of napkins in the middle of a rush.
Bob doesn’t understand why one busser can’t fold the same amount of napkins as four bussers. So he comes up with a new plan to fix this: the dinner shift bussers now have to fold enough napkins for the lunch shift, or at least enough for lunch to start.
To which the dinner shift bussers said, “Oh heck no.” Bob tried to throw his weight around but since he wasn’t a dinner manager, dinner bussers were technically out of his jurisdiction.
Plus, they could fold all the napkins in the building, but there was no guarantee there would be any leftover for the lunch shift, let alone get through dinner during the high season.
The dinner bussers told the dinner managers what was going on, one of whom was the general manager and management told Bob to knock it off. Bob adjusted his policy so that two bussers could fold napkins in the morning and the others did all the chores. We still ran out of napkins on occasion, but it usually wasn’t because enough wasn’t prepared before service started.”
4. Giving Away A $15,000 Vacation For Free To Get Back At Boss
“This was easily about 8/9 years ago. I was working in a call centre, we’re sort of a middle man between a selection of theme parks and 100s of hotels that customers could book as a nice package holiday.
Now, most people would call up the theme park, think they were talking to the location itself but actually be talking with a bunch of part-timers in an office nowhere near.
Depending on which brand they called we’d answer as that brand and all in all, it was painless. There was a website but we were there in case of special requirements, sometimes people didn’t want to book online etc.
Now the parks we support are fairly popular… So much so people do fly in specifically to have holidays there.
This means the job was two things, wonderful for some families as these were once in a lifetime trips and you were the person helping them get the holiday they wanted.
The other side was pure torture. If the holiday went to trash you knew full well it was somehow our fault. We had all sorts of calls of people screaming, threatening us etc etc.
I had a good track record, often closing sizable packages and always going a little further – sorting out some balloons in the room for little Timmy’s birthday, notifying the park to add Tom’s birthday alongside the other kids to celebrate his special 45th.
You know, random acts of kindness.
I was often told by management to remember to stay in my lane and while it was nice I should be on the next call not emailing the hotel to arrange the ‘unpaid for’ bits and bobs.
Now one day a family called me and I could tell immediately they were posh. They were flying in and were looking for our top options, top hotel, unlimited fast track tickets the whole lot.
I went in immediately and suggested one of the onsite hotels, asking what favourite characters the kids going had etc…
However, the woman booking heard wonderful things about this alternative hotel (we’re talking 5-star, head chef won an award for cooking a pigeon some well other pigeons would offer themselves to be next). All fine sorted it all out, booking came to $12,000 something, threw my discount on there, pulled all the bells and whistles out.
Boss comes overs raving, what a deal! What a close! I’ll go tell my boss, wanders off.
An hour later, the family called back. The woman had since googled the on-site hotel and was stunned at how wonderful it was, as it was for her granddaughter and could she be a pain and rebook there?
Yes. Absolutely. I have to cancel the old booking first (the refund can take the usual however many days) and the second booking was made immediately.
She went fine, went through, and red alert. Her Amex is stalled as two 12k shots at a short pace caused some issues. I checked out the system, found out it was us blocking it not her and had to get a manager to resolve it.
I explain I can’t do anything right now to finalise it but let me call in a favour.
I call into the hotel and explain everything.
Could they do me a favour and hold the rooms until we get it all hashed out? Yes. You want your usual balloons nonsense? (Their words) Yes. Go on then.
I log everything in our system, all the conversations I spoke to when I went hard as it was a small holiday here. And go ask my manager. She’s fuming. Because she’s been bragging to the boss how she’s doing well because I closed this sale and now suddenly asking her to refund the amount.
“Yeah but it’s to book it again?” The second booking was actually more and we’d end up still better off but she wobbled about it. Tells me she will do it but it’s the end of my shift so go home. I beg her to call the family. She said she would.
Two days after my next shift I sit down and see that my weekly total is missing.
The 12k was not replaced with the 15k. I go ask my manager what happened. Did she speak to them?
“No they didn’t answer; they’ll call back.”
I asked if I could call them myself?
“THIS IS NOT YOUR JOB, YOUR JOB IS TO ANSWER THE PHONES.”
I protested, this could be 15k we lose. Shouldn’t we chase it?
“NONE OF YOUR EXTRA NONSENSE THIS TIME. GO GET ON THE PHONES.”
I’m a little mad.
But there is nothing I can do, so I decide the smart thing to do is log everything new in our system including what my manager told me and “just answer the phones.”
Two days pass and I get a phone call from the family who ask for me. They were ready to pay again. Amazing let’s do it. I call the hotel to sort out the package and all is ready to go.
The red alert comes up again. My manager hadn’t greenlit the payment, however, as the refund had been processed it was just sat in pending. All my manager had to do was hit a button and the family would get the confirmation email.
I speak to my manager. She tells me to screw off and to stop bothering her over this.
I mark all that in the account on the system and promptly have a week off.
I come back in. It’s a Sunday night, the slowest shift of the week, usually people phoning to tweak a booking, ask what time the park opens etc but then one phone call came into a newbie. The screamers are easier to deal with, they come in hot and you just play kind and calm. They look deranged and as all calls are recorded, if it escalates you look sane.
It’s the calm collected complaints which are the scariest and this family’s grandma? She’s definitely killed people.
The poor newbie got this call and we knew immediately something was up – he nervously asked if I was on a call and if he could patch them over. Sure thing.
It’s the grandma and she’s not happy. Calm but not happy. They had flown in, at the park’s hotel but as no payment had been received they weren’t allowed to check-in.
I check the booking.
My manager never processed. They were sat in the lobby, 4 kids two sets of parents and Grandma and nowhere to stay.
I call my manager (it was 9 pm at night at that point) and she didn’t answer, tried three more times and got an email saying it’s her night off don’t bother her (another one logged in the system.)
I actually then called the hotel front desk, explained I was balloon nonsense and needed help, the staff there knew me and gave me a break, but they didn’t have the power the hotel manager did.
I got patched to him, explained everything and he went okay, here’s the deal. We can put the family in the rooms but we need to charge someone the room. I’m going to charge the company you work for and you guys can hash it out later?
This is where the first MC piece I felt guilty about comes in. I’d done everything by the book and there was this family stuck stranded in the lobby and charging the company was just a no-no, like lose your job have them come after you type no-no.
so I tried calling every contact I had but it was 11/12 pm at night at this point and no one was answering…
So I hit screw it. I called the hotel back and told them to do it. Knowing full well I’d be job hunting the next day. Logged it and left.
Wasn’t due in till 10 am but got a call at half 7 telling me I needed to be there by 8.
I arrive, get frog-marched into a meeting room with three levels of bosses in front of me, my manager, her manager and his manager. They also had a single printout with an invoice for 15k from the hotel in my name.
They went in on me, 20 minutes of yelling, shouting, one left to get HR in for immediate dismissal.
HR arrived and only asked one question, can you justify why you comped a 15k package?
The only thing I could think to say was “check the logs.” My manager looked thunderstruck.
Her boss looked perplexed and his boss just looked at my boss with a scowl and all three told me to wait there while they left and HR sat with me.
10 minutes later I was told to take the day leave and when I came back the next day my manager was on the phone like the rest of us… And I was told I’d be reporting to her boss alongside the wider team.
Learnt two things, do nice things and people do nice things for you.
Also log everything, emails conversations. If you ever feel like something isn’t right, make a note and time stamp it for the love of God.”
3. You Insisted On Getting EVERY Topping, So Here You Go
“My first job was waitressing at a 50s diner style burger-joint. I think I was about 16? It was a sweet gig. My coworkers were generally nice, the customers were a mixed bag. Though we did have one homeless guy that would come in and do our food challenge weekly for a free meal. He was cool.
Anyways, I had a family come in. If I remember correctly it was the traditional dad, mom, two kids.
It was lunch rush and basically, all the tables and the bar were filled.
So, I’m taking their order and the dad asks for a burger.
Me: ‘What would you like on that burger?’
Me: ‘Well we have a lot of options.’
I gesture to the menu section containing the topping choices. The dad does a once-over (clearly not long enough to read) looks back at me and states.
At this point, I should note we had a bunch of choices:
- Grilled Jalapeños
- Grilled Mushrooms
- Grilled Onions
- Grilled Bell Peppers
I feel like there were even more choices when I worked there. The place also had 4-5 cheese options.
I ask the dad a few more times if he’s sure. Even tried to list the toppings. His wife even tried to explain the situation. I could tell he was getting agitated but I also knew he didn’t know what ‘everything’ meant.
Eventually, I take his word for it and attempt to get the rest of his order.
Me: ‘Do you want cheese?’
Dad: ‘I said everything!’
Me: ‘Well we have 4 –’
Yikes. I want to point out he’s literally yelling here. Those exclamation points are not for emphasis
Well, I finish taking the table’s order. On the ticket, I remember specifically taking the time to meticulously write out every ingredient as clearly as I could.
The tickets were small and each ingredient was denoted by an acronym so it was a challenge to fit ‘everything.’ I also made sure to include every possible cheese.
I knew this monstrosity was going to be sent back. I knew it was an abomination, but I was determined to give that man what he asked for. The line cooks looked at me like, ‘You sure?’ With a simple nod, I pulled the trigger.
I walked that burger out to the man with the biggest poop-eating grin. It had to have been 2 pounds of a sloppy, wet burger. The annoyance on his face would have been reward enough, but as predicted, the father called my manager over and complained.
My manager came to me fuming. Clearly, he had been chewed out by the man.
‘You know you have to ask the customers what they want on their burgers?!’
‘Well, the man at table 11 said he didn’t ask for that.’
Mind you I was still 16 at this point and timid. Still, I explained the situation. My manager’s demeanor changed and he had a little smirk on his face. My manager asked me to follow him back to the table and grabbed a menu on the way.
Manager: ‘Hi sir, I need some clarity. What exactly did you ask for on your burger?’
Customer: ‘Uh, everything but –’
My manager opened the menu on the table pointing to the topping options.
Manager: ‘Sir, this is everything. This is what’s on your burger. I’ll be happy to remake the burger to your specifications if you can give them this time, but we are very busy and it could take a while. OP, please take his order.’
So I did. I can’t remember his actual order anymore, but it was definitely a more traditional burger. It probably took about 10 minutes to come out so his family was mostly done with their meal while he was beginning.
We could’ve taken another burger off the line to make his, but why make a chill table wait?”
Another User Comments:
“Had this same kind of thing at a Subway I worked at. The dude had been kicked out of the store during the day (when the owners were there) but still came in at night when all of us teens were working. He ordered a meatball and told me “I want everything on it, don’t mess it up.
I am going to the store next door.” I tried to ask what he meant by everything and he just gave me an annoyed look and walked out. I put every ingredient we had on that sub including all the sauces, mayo, mustard, and every veggie we had. Got finished wrapping it right as he walked back in. He paid and left. Never had the fun of seeing his face, but he also never came back so it was still a win.” grimbuddha
2. Just Stay Out Of Your Way, Mrs. New Hire? Got It
“Some backstory; I was a general troubleshooter for my company. My job involved a lot of traveling to different clients we support. My area of work is in Ontario, Canada (where I am based) and some of the nearby States in the United States (New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, Pennsylvania.) I did most of my traveling by car since my schedule can change quite quickly and flying can become very expensive.
I had one colleague, Jim, who is technically my subordinate but we have a very good working relationship and would often handle calls independently of each other only checking in by phone once a week and in-person once a month/when necessary.
A little over a year ago, I get an email calling me to the head office in New York City for a meeting with the CEO (Bob) and the board of directors regarding my job.
I check with my colleague and he got the same email. So we make our travel plans and meet in New York City the following week. We have dinner together the night before our meeting and can’t figure out between us what the issue is about (it’s rare to get summoned to head office and rarer for things to be so vague).
When we go into the meeting the next day we are informed that the company is dividing our department between the US and Canada and that there would be a new person to deal with the US clients and we were to restrict ourselves to Canada.
Both my colleague and I were a little shocked at this since neither of us has even heard this was being discussed. I asked who the new person for the US was and we then learned that it was a new hire that the CEO Bob had taken a special interest in.
Trying to be of good spirit I offered to train the new person, as there are many realities of the job that are not in the job description.
Bob accepted and then brought in the new hire. In walks a young lady (Karen) who looks about 23 years old and wears an expression that she knows everything. She sits at the table and immediately makes it very clear that she wants nothing to do with us.
Bob: ‘Welcome Karen, we have just informed OP and Jim about the change in structure and they are willing to give you the support you need to get yourself started.’
Karen and Bob both look at me.
Me: ‘Glad to have you aboard Karen, I think both Jim and I have a lot of experience to share with you and we are happy to do so, perhaps it would be better in a separate meeting so we don’t take the board’s time.’
Karen: ‘Thank you all. I have a lot of ideas about how I can streamline our department and new policies I can introduce that should save the company a lot of expenses.’
I’m very confused at this point.
Karen is speaking as though she is my supervisor and that is distinctly not what Bob spoke to us about. I can see some of the board members giving strange looks at this as well.
Me: ‘Bob perhaps I misunderstood the new roles here. Would you please clarify?’
Bob: ‘Sure, Karen is the new head of your department and both you and Jim will answer directly to her.’
Board member: ‘That isn’t what we discussed or approved as a board.
We weren’t fully convinced of dividing the department but this is completely against what we discussed.’
Karen: ‘What did you discuss then?’
Board Member: ‘That your department would be divided between the US and Canada. OP and Jim would remain north of the border and you would run the US.’
Karen: ‘That’s not what I was told but I can work with that. As long as these two stay out of my way.’ (Indicating me and Jim.)
Jim and I are both shocked and insulted to be spoken of in this manner.
We are both very good at our jobs and before today have never seen this woman in our lives.
Bob: ‘That settles it, OP, effective immediately, you and Jim are to have nothing to do with Karen. Do not interfere with her work at all. You are both to restrict yourselves to working within Canada only.’
With that, he ended the meeting and left the room with Karen close behind him.
Jim and I sat there stunned for a moment and some of the board members came up to us to express their shock and sympathies about this. I had enough presence of mind to ask if we would get a written directive of this change and was assured we would. Sure enough both Jim and I got emails with the new directive from Bob by the end of the day.
So after sending an email to all our US-based clients advising them of the change and giving them the contact information of Karen, Jim and I made our way back to Toronto and reorganized ourselves for working within Ontario only. This meant much less traveling for us so it gave us more room to breathe.
Within a week I was getting complaints from our US-based clients that Karen was not answering emails and missing appointments.
I forwarded these emails to Karen and copied the entire board including Bob.
Another week later I get a phone call from Karen who sounds frantic but will not admit she needs help. She makes pleasant conversation and then asks how I would handle a particular type of situation. I tell her I’m really not interested in discussing work as that might be seen as interfering in her work.
Later that evening I get a call from Jim telling me he had the same conversation with Karen and handled it the same way.
By the end of that month, I get a call from Bob asking if I will take over the entire department again. I politely tell him no since I didn’t want to interfere with Karen and her role. For the next 3 months, I’m getting emails and phone calls from US clients asking if they can have me back as their contact.
This confirms an idea that had been in my head.
Jim and I had actually grown our client base in Ontario since restricting ourselves here. So I had lunch with Jim one day and asked him if he wanted to go into businesses with me as partners starting our own consulting firm. We couldn’t provide everything our current company provided but we could provide a high degree of professionalism for our specific field and it seemed we had a ready-made client base.
By the end of the lunch, he was on board and we started the necessary steps to get ourselves set up.
As soon as we were clear we both submitted our resignations with explanations of why. The next time clients contacted us we told them we no longer worked for the company. When they asked if we still worked in the field, we told them we had established our own firm and what services we offered.
A month later, we had 60% of our US clients on board, and since the former company had no Canadian support at all, we had 80% of the Canadian clients.
Within 2 months, we had 80% of the US and 90% of the Canadian clients.
In the year since that time our new company has grown enough that we have hired 7 new consultants. Jim and I find ourselves doing more office work than road work, and a lot of client courting.
Our old company has had to stop offering in-person troubleshooting (what our department did) and Bob was fired by the board. No idea what happened to Karen.
I made a phone call to one of the board members I remained on friendly terms with. Here are some answers to questions I’ve been getting:
How did Karen get the Job? Apparently, Bob had set up a business school scholarship out of his own pocket which had put something like 6 or 7 students through business school.
Karen was the latest graduate and Bob wanted to give her a start in the business world.
Was Bob sleeping with Karen? No clear answer was given. But Bob’s wife divorced him shortly after he was fired from the company. Make of that what you will.
What happened to Karen? Apparently, she got a job in middle management in a financial services company. Hopefully, she can still build a life for herself and has learned some important lessons.
What happened to Bob? Last heard he was a regional director for a large hotel chain. Hopefully, he also lands on his feet. Everyone deserves a chance to make a life for themselves.”
1. Want The Data Exactly As You Specify? Sure Thing!
“Every year, an external agency requests data from our company. The first time this happened, the accountant liaised with me on the requirements and the format I would send it to her in (Excel, in a particular layout) to facilitate her data entry to the agency’s web page.
After the first year and realizing this would be a yearly occurrence, I created a script and template. The accountant would give me the dates and a few other specifics and I would send her the data within the day.
An hour if I felt like it.
This year, the accountant was on leave. So her boss (BA for boss accountant) took over and talked to me over the phone.
‘I need the data for XYZ event.’
‘Oh, is it the yearly request? Sure, could I have the dates and–’
‘No no this is new, you need to get me from…’
I didn’t bother to take notes since I was sure it was that same request and already opened my scripts ready to input the new data requirements.
‘Yes that’s what they ask for every year, I just need the – ‘ BA interrupts me
‘NO! YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME! DO I NEED TO SPEAK TO YOUR BOSS? THIS IS A NEW REQUEST!’ She paused to breathe and I quickly apologized ‘oh no, so sorry, please tell me what you need again?’ At this point, I already knew I was going to maliciously comply.
Why else be so polite?
BA repeats her requirements and this time I take detailed notes since she was so specific in which tables she wanted the data from as well. She takes inordinate pride in knowing ‘the backbone of the system and how it works.’ Who was I, a lowly tech peon, to tell her otherwise?
I apologized again and promised to send it to her by the end of the next working day since it was, as she was well aware, really complicated.
And urgent too, since there was a submission deadline.
I took a coffee break and the chance to quickly update my boss about this PRIORITY request and that my other tasks had to wait till this was sent out to BA. I told my boss what BA said: it’s not the same yearly request, there were apparently some changes but since the documents were so sensitive I could not review them, I only had her word on the requirements.
And since it was so specific, I would give her exactly as she wanted.
She should’ve gone to my boss first if it was a new request but she decided she would bully me into giving it to her urgently.
My boss didn’t want to get involved and sealed the deal for me: ‘Give her what she wants.’
Sooooo, I spent the next hour extracting large amounts of raw data and pasting them into Excel.
Screw formatting and layout, BA knows what the raw data looks like. Auto-calculated fields and date ranges? Pivot tables to organize? BA never mentioned that. How would I know, how could I guess?
I sent it early. A large zipped Excel file was emailed to BA, cc my boss on the Urgent data requested.
I sent it the next day just before our lunch hour. I knew she would see it before leaving for lunch and would want to check it for a chance to berate me ASAP if it wasn’t exactly what she asked for.
Spoiler alert: It was exactly what she asked for. She never spoke of it to me again.
Her team wasn’t happy that she was late to join them for lunch (they have to walk past my cubicle).
I waited for the accountant to return from her vacation and gave her a few days before I asked her how this year’s submission of external agency’s request went. She was concerned.
Was I on leave too? BA was manipulating a huge Excel file and it didn’t look like anything I’ve sent previously. She thought perhaps MY boss has given her the data, since he wouldn’t know what we had discussed and worked with previously.
Turns out it was the same yearly request. BA spent a few days tediously doing what my scripts already do and she could’ve (as the accountant has been doing) just copied and pasted from my scripted data.”