People Spill Their "Sorry Not Sorry" Revenge Stories
29. Lie To Get Me In Trouble? I'll Make Sure You Get Trash Duty
“I was on a piece of playground equipment known as the ‘Jetty’ at my local primary (elementary) school in grade 2, enjoying some time to myself during lunch. This entitled little jerk from the year below me – we’ll call him Trent – decides that he wants to play on the Jetty instead.
He strides up to me and tells me to leave, to which I tell him that I was here first but I’d be happy to share it with him.
Trent didn’t seem to like the sound of that idea. Instead, he chucks an absolute tantrum and wails at me with language no five or six-year-old should even know, let alone repeat in public.
I try my best to ignore him at first, but then he started pushing me. I made the fatal mistake of pushing him back just as a teacher walked around the corner – We’re both dragged off to the principal’s office.
The whole walk there he keeps leaning over and whispering to me; ‘Oh, you’re in so much trouble now.’
The principal sits us both down and calmly asks us one at a time to tell our stories. He starts with me. I calmly tell him the abridged version: Trent wanted the playground to himself, I offered to share but he hit me.
When it’s Trent’s turn, the little jerk breaks down and cries like a baby seal getting clubbed while watching the Arctic equivalent of Bambi’s mum’s death scene in slow motion. He tells the principal about how I threw him off the Jetty, called him names, and swore at him (‘I…
I don’t want to say what he said. I don’t want to say it because I know it’s a bad word Mr. H, he was just so mean!’)
I sat there, wide-jawed and absolutely gobsmacked at this lying little turd, watching the principal hug him and tell him everything’s going to be alright.
Mr. H kept glancing at me like I was some sort of devil-spawn with the sole purpose of making poor little Trent’s life utterly miserable. I try telling him that he’s lying, but it’s just no use. After all, I was the older kid in the situation – I should have known better, right?
The principal asks me to step outside his office to have a chat with him in person.
He tells me how disappointed he is and how ashamed I should feel for hurting poor innocent Trent. I was given a punishment I wouldn’t have (at the time) wished on my worst enemy – Garbage duty with Ms. Hanzel.
Ms. Hanzel was a rotten old lady that seemed to absolutely despise students.
She was about sixty years of age and physically looked like Roz from Monster’s Inc. I could constantly hear her shouting at her pupils from outside the halls, she would scream like a damn banshee and wouldn’t stop until someone started crying.
One time she (apparently) grabbed my younger cousin by the wrist and yanked her outside when she tried to ask a question during ‘silent time’. But that’s a story for another time. The point was, Ms. Hanzel was an absolute witch, and I was going to spend the next few hours picking up garbage in front of all my peers with her.
The principal walked me outside her office and made sure I knocked on the door before heading back to check on poor little Trent. I slicked inside, dreading talking to the wicked she-beast inside. I had a little note with me asking her to give me garbage duty until the end of the day, then to send me back to the principal’s office after school.
She looks at it briefly, hands me a plastic bag, and stares at me for a good thirty seconds. ‘What did you do?’ she asked me. Frustrated and scared, I broke down crying. Between sobs, I managed to tell her about how Trent lied to get me in trouble.
She sat down, and I’ll never forget the story she told me.
She explained that back when she was my age, many teachers would spank students for misbehaving. She told me how the boys would usually get a paddle across the butt, but the girls would get a smaller but still painful ruler across the back of the hand.
One day when she was at school, another girl accidentally knocked over the teacher’s inkwell and blamed it on her. She got 10 hard spanks to the back of the hand (Demonstrating the first three with her ruler in mid-air, one after another).
She told me how much she despised this disgusting little girl, and how badly she was treated for the rest of her time there.
Then, she went to the bin in the corner and poured its contents into my plastic bag. ‘I believe you.
Go back to class, I’ll tell Mr. H that you picked up all the garbage you could find, okay?’ I couldn’t believe it. I was standing right in front of the nastiest teacher in the whole school and here she was giving me the equivalent of a royal pardon.
To make an already long story short, I did go back to class. At the end of the day, I got another yelling from the principal and a call home to my parents, but it wasn’t until the next day that everything fell into place.
I was on a different part of the playground when Ms. Hanzel came storming by with a little boy at her side – Trent. I was overcome with an emotion I didn’t recognize then, but one I now associate with sweet, sweet revenge.
I strode up to the Jetty and played on that damn thing all lunch while Ms. Hanzel made the little jerk pick up all the rubbish down below me. I don’t know what she got him for, but she made sure I could see the brat at all times, and more importantly, the little brat could see me playing on the playground he so desperately wanted to himself. I like to think that she helped me achieve the revenge she never got.”
28. Drink From My Water Bottle? You'll Be Running To The Toilet
“My friends and I like to get together to play basketball, and in my country, it is now safe to do so. Normally everyone carries their own water bottles that are approximately 500ml. Now, as I have a foolish mother, she makes me carry a 1.5L or 2L thermos with me.
As most of my friends know I carry around these large bottles, they usually help themselves. However, now that the circumstances have changed, I strictly told everyone to stay away from my bottle.
One boy, who had a reputation for going against my boundaries and was a troublemaker, decided to bend the rules.
After one of our games, I find my bottle empty rather than 3/4ths full. I asked all of my friends who had been drinking, but no one came clean. However, I knew it was him (I’ll call him victim from now on) and I knew it was him because nobody else’s bottles were even near empty.
The next time we played, I decided to enact my petty revenge.
I added excess Miralax (a laxative) to one of my bottles and filled it with water. The other water bottle, which was kept in my car, had drinking water only for me.
Lo and behold, as predicted he drank most of my water.
Later, that evening, he started complaining of extreme nausea and tummy aches on our group chat. Naturally, I casually mentioned that I had bowel issues in the last few days and may have added some laxatives in my water.
Since then, he’s never had a drink from my bottle again.”
27. Steal My Scooter? I'll Let The Dean Deal With You
“I go to a college that is very hilly but mostly bike-inaccessible as it is riddled with stairs. Being chronically late, I get to most of my classes on time thanks to a big-wheel razor scooter that I can easily carry upstairs & stow away during class.
At our dining halls, there is a very limited amount of lockers and none of them are big enough to fit a folded scooter, some have indoor storage racks but most don’t, and people will leave their scooters and skateboards on top of the lockers, honors system.
When I need to go eat between classes or before heading back to the dorm, I usually just do that and it is never a problem. On Halloween night I leave from dinner in a dining hall after an exhausting day of midterm exams to find my scooter completely gone.
I check all around & it’s not there, but thankfully there’s a security camera right above the lockers.
Unfortunately, when I asked for help from the housing authority, none of the RA’s could help me, no one knew how to access the security cam, & the RD refused to see me & kept delegating to other RA’s.
I finally ended up calling the campus police & filing a report, sure I would never see the scooter again. It’s not like it was very expensive, $100 at most, but it’s my main mode of transportation & it was very dear to me.
Getting a new one would take at least a month & eat into my savings. I wasn’t happy.
The next afternoon I get a call from the police that they found the thief and that they would have my scooter within the hour.
I hightail it over to the station and it turns out the very same night before, prior to when I filed my report, they had caught a freshman responsible for over 20+ scooter and skateboard thefts. When they saw my report they called him in for questioning again and he revealed a list of other thieves, and personally knew who stole my scooter.
They called in that kid (also a freshman) and had him return it, to await my decision on whether to prosecute or not.
Rather than prosecute, which would be a hugely inefficient headache, I had the option to have him sent to the dean’s office.
Our Dean is responsible for 40,000+ students & has very little time to deal with this sort of thing, and being a freshman he would likely be put on probation for the rest of the year if not the rest of his four years here. So I chose to teach him a lesson and put him on the Dean’s watchlist. If he so much as breathes wrong without the Dean’s permission he is subject to expulsion.”
26. Refuse To Treat Your Step-Grandchild As Your Own? I'll Cut You Out Of My Family
“During my first marriage, I inherited a wonderful step-daughter. We had two daughters together and one Christmas my grandmother sent presents, but only for our little two, not my step-daughter. I try to see the best in people, so I call my dad to see if she forgot.
Well, we all know when people are caught off guard, they blurt the truth. Apparently, she told my dad that if she had to buy gifts for all the step kids they would be in the poor house. Mind you, this is her only step-grandchild, and at the time she is at her vacation home in AZ.
Now, I’m angry. I box up the gifts and send them back to her with a letter saying family is family, it doesn’t matter who gave birth to that child, she is my daughter.
She just didn’t get it, still doesn’t. And my dad for fear of getting written out of the will sided with grandma.
So we don’t talk either.
It’s sad, but I stood my ground and for the cause. I may not be married to the girl’s dad anymore, but I still love her as my own.”
Another User Comments:
“You remind me of my stepmother. She’s such a genuine and caring lady, but it’s funny because the opposite happened.
My grandmother (biological but treats me nothing like one) always spoils my half-brother and step-brother, while my biological sister and I sit there looking pretty. Not that I really cared, as I’m a 14-year-old male who takes pride in supporting himself and I am grateful for everything that the people in my life provide, but my stepmom was flabbergasted. She told my grandmother never to send gifts again unless she was gonna send them for all 4 kids.” CheckMyBrain11
25. We Tricked Our Mean Grandma Into Throwing Out Her Own Dishes
“I’ve never had a great relationship with my grandma; none of my siblings could ever stand her. She was always domineering but didn’t have the guts to do things to our faces; always loudly complaining about us to her friends within obvious hearing distance.
When the lease on our house expired and my dad was looking for new accommodation, my grandma showed up and pretty much waved a heavy and stout umbrella in his face, insisting that we moved in with her ‘so she could take care of us.’ (But we would still have to pay her a generous amount of rent.) My sister and I pleaded with my dad not to, but he eventually gave in ‘because she’s my mother.’
We move in, and not even a month in various altercations start.
She complains that we have too much stuff. Consider that we have what is probably twice her stuff and quadruple the people. We stuff everything we can into this tiny storeroom, thanks to my dad’s packing skills. Those she won’t touch.
But little things start disappearing after; the prized porcelain dish set that my dead mom bought with my dad two decades ago, the tiny mementos that I tucked inside my drawer, out of sight… And then we found them in the bin.
No amount of pleading, arguing, convincing could get her to stop. The only things she wouldn’t throw away were the things she couldn’t physically lift by herself, and obviously, nobody would help her. Guess why she left the storeroom stuff alone.
We get pretty sick of each other. At this point, we’ve already packed all our prized tableware away, and resolve to use only the cheap stuff that our previous landlord had given to us. My grandma proudly loads in her mish-mash assortment of random metal plates and plastic bowls.
It looks like a freaking military cookhouse set. We’ve long learned to keep our mouths shut and not argue, and just quietly retrieve anything she dumps into the bin and hope she doesn’t find it again. That way we at least don’t have to listen to her screaming about the house after every single time we poke holes in her logic.
Literally her comeback every single time is:
‘Karma will bite you in the butt! Wait until you grow up and your children don’t listen to you! If you’re so unhappy why don’t you move out? The sooner the better!’
It hadn’t even been two months since she threatened my dad to make us move in.
Various little things happened, but basically, she started to find fault with all our habits, like… not washing the dishes within 5 minutes of eating. Sometimes when you have a large meal, you just feel like leaning back in your chair and relaxing for a while, y’know? Oh no, not for dear old grandma.
Everything has to be cleared immediately.
Grandma: If you don’t wash them immediately, I’ll throw them all away!
She doesn’t even bother to tell anybody. No ‘can you go do the dishes now?’ We just walk in to do the dishes later and find them in the dustbin.
We pick them out and wash them, and we’re all pretty miffed. If we ignored her requests a dozen times and she does this; sure, we deserve such treatment. But it was the first time, and everything she did was pretty much out of sight.
She would have thrown it away if we hadn’t looked for the missing dishes.
My brother hatches a plan. We pick out her favorite dishes. Not the most expensive ones, just the ones that she uses the most often, and some from the new set that she bought.
The next meal is cooked entirely with this tableware. Down to every utensil and plate. We finish eating, dutifully put everything into the sink, without washing them. Then we go back to the dining table, kick back, and relax. 15 minutes later we return to the kitchen and find my grandma staring at the pile of dishes.
She looks at us. She looks at the dishes. She looks at us. She picks up all the dishes and dumps them into the bin.
My brother giggles.
Go ahead. It’s all your dishes. You like to throw stuff, we’ll let you throw stuff. But don’t touch our stuff.
Half an hour later, she slinks back into the kitchen and quietly picks them all out of the trash. Guess her stuff isn’t as expendable as ours.”
24. I Had A Few Choice Words For Concert Shover
“I was at an outdoor concert and had arrived pretty early to get a good spot near the stage. There were like 15,000 people there so latecomers were pretty far back. Shortly before the opener came on I was facing away from the stage to look for my friends who had gone to get drinks, and saw this middle-aged woman doing the whole I’m a bus thing from 100 yards back up towards me, dragging her mid-20s son (?) behind her by the hand.
Stepping on people’s toes, elbowing, inadvertently shoving some poor teenager to the ground.
I decided that when she reached me I was going to tell her she was a jerk. But then my nice-person brain flipped out and was like ‘you can’t do that! What if she has cancer and this concert is a thing for her?’
So when she shoved her way up to me and was about to shove right past, I tapped her on the shoulder.
Me: ‘Excuse me, I’m sorry, but do you have cancer?’
Her: ‘Um, no?’
Me: ‘Okay, good. You’re a jerk.'”
Another User Comments:
“Having just come back from such a concert, I would like to tell you that you’re a hero. Actually, I did pretty much the same thing but went for the ol’ middle-finger approach instead of yelling. Got told I shouldn’t have come to a concert if I wasn’t willing to put up with that kind of stuff. Screw some people.” Ihaveafatcat
23. Be Greedy And Selfish? I'll Make Sure You Feel Guilt For The Rest Of Your Life
“My grandfather comes from a massive family. There are 7 siblings, I think. They all worked on a family farm which was huge, and a source of income. There was work for all of the brothers and sisters, as well as their mother and father.
The plan for the family was that once the mother and father died, the siblings would continue to work on the farm for their lives doing various things, which meant they could all have a source of income. But then my grandfather’s brother, a slimy, selfish jerk, convinced his dad that he needed to leave the farm to just one person who would make sure it all went to plan.
And he convinced his dad that it would be him that should do it, so the will was changed to leave everything to my Grandads brother (Jim) in good faith.
The parents died, and my grandfather found out about what happened and knew what was going on.
He knew what Jim had done was bad, and what his motives behind it were, so he confronted Jim. My grandfather is a nice and kind man, who works hard for his family. When confronted, Jim told my granddad that it was no way to talk to his boss and that he better watch how my granddad talks to him or he’ll lose his job.
My granddad was disgusted and offered Jim an ultimatum – either he’ll tell his brothers and sisters what he’d done in the next week or my granddad would. Jim was a coward and didn’t do it, so my granddad did. All income and the farm was in Jim’s name and so everyone stopped working at the farm.
There was a huge fight, and Jim was cut out of the lives of all of his family, and still to this day is ignored and hated by them.
But here’s the thing. My granddad’s brother went over to Jim’s house to talk to him about the selfish and horrible thing he’d done and Jim wouldn’t answer the door.
So he left a note, and the note said ‘When you die, you’re going to have to explain what you did to your brothers and sisters to our mum and dad.’
Now, that kind of note is justified. But he’ll think about it every day.
It will haunt him because he knows what he did was bad, but now he knows that he’ll have to pay for what he did for eternity (my family is devout Roman Catholic) and that his brothers and sisters hate him.”
22. I Made Sure The High School Jerks Never Succeeded In Gym Glass
“A few years back, in high school, I was in a gym class. typical high school rude jocks were common in my class and thought they were God’s gifts to humanity. I’m a pretty decent-sized guy, and pretty quick on my feet.
Every time there was a sport and I was against them, I would just run by them, then pretend to be stealing whatever type of ball from them, but ‘miss’. Instead, I would just stop in front of them. Dead stop.
Less than a foot in front. They would crash into me and fall over, while everyone else would look the other way, hiding their laughter. No one, including the teachers, cared because these guys were jerks.
There was one really fit guy who was a great player and had good sportsmanship and was really nice to everyone, regardless of who they were.
He and I had a wonderful, completely fair competition. Everyone thought he was an awesome athlete because he wasn’t falling all over himself around me. I felt extra good because I eliminated all the jerks, ensuring they NEVER scored, and also made the good guy look even better than he was.”
21. Next Time You Want To Come For Me, Read The Road Signs First
“In days gone by, the Sydney Harbour Bridge had a pedestrian walkway on one side and a cycle-way on the other side.
The cycle-way was clearly marked bikes only, no pedestrians allowed.
I am riding along and see a couple up ahead pushing a pram.
As I approach them, they move to the side, I slow down and ride very carefully past. As I am about to pass the pram, their hidden toddler jumps out in front of me. I jam on the brakes, nearly going over the handlebars, and almost end up falling over the fence onto the train line next to the cycle-way.
The father explodes, he starts yelling at me for nearly killing his kid. The little boy is looking at his father all wide-eyed.
I get up, shaky and loaded up with Adrenaline, and proceed to give this guy an even louder piece of my mind.
I am not a small guy and in those days I was pretty fit, so I guess he realized he was on the wrong end of this little chat and shuts up.
I point out to him that the person endangering his family is him and if he can’t even read a street sign, perhaps he shouldn’t be looking after kids at all.
I get back on my bike and am about to ride off when I see the little boy, still all wide-eyed and confused so I lean down towards him and say, ‘Your daddy’s brain doesn’t work,’ then I ride off.”
20. Want To Speed Past Me? You'll Fall Right Into My Trap
“The community I live in has a speed limit of 25mph. It also has a connecting street to another development which leads to the main road, so people tend to cut through my neighborhood to get there. Many drivers enjoy speeding through the streets rather than following the speed limit.
The local police department, therefore, decided to start implementing surprise speed traps right by the main entrance. I have never been stopped by one as I like to drive safely and not get tickets that I can’t afford, but I often tend to end up in front of drivers who like to drive recklessly and get angry when those in front of them don’t do the same.
Our story begins when my car’s cruise control button finally got fixed. I had long been waiting for this because then I could finally enact Operation Petty Revenge.
There’s a gentleman who regularly cuts through my neighborhood who owns a Dodge Challenger.
For those who don’t know, Challengers can get LOUD. Consequently, this fellow enjoys revving the engine every 100 yards or so to inform everyone nearby that this is a Dodge Challenger and its driver likely has a less-than-average-size endowment. This morning, I found myself pulling out of my driveway right as the Challenger turned the corner and approached.
And you bet your butt I booped that cruise control button and meandered at a comfortably legal 25mph the entire ride through my neighborhood.
And the driver behind me was angry. Revving that engine, riding my bumper, the works. I was loving it.
The pièce de résistance was when we turned onto the street right before the main entrance. Sure enough, a police car was there. Now, normally, the police put a car there without an officer inside just to spook drivers into slowing down, but today the universe was on my side.
In his haste to pass me and continue on his merry way, the driver of the Challenger apparently didn’t notice the upcoming police car, because he revved the engine one more time, scooted past me on a squeal of tires (and across a double yellow line, might I add), and for good measure, screeched a cordial ‘SCREW YOU!’ to me out his open passenger window.
The police car, that glorious, glorious police car, flipped on its lights and whipped out onto the street, and pulled that moron over.
I haven’t laughed that hard in years.”
Another User Comments:
“I was witness to something like this a few years ago:
Driving up one of the main roads in town, (double yellow line, since it passes the local high school) there was a red car in front of me and a blue car in front of him.
The blue car was doing the speed limit (25mph) but the red car didn’t feel like waiting… and illegally passed the blue car on the left.
At this point, I should mention the unmarked white SUV that was behind me.
As it turns out, the chief of police was driving the SUV. He pulled over the red car and as I passed him I could see he was wearing a black shirt, black pants, black tie – looked like a rogue government agent.” NJdeathproof
19. Pretend Not To Understand Us? We'll Just Keep Repeating It In Different Languages Until You Get The Hint
“We were in line at the Vatican waiting to get in. If you’ve ever been to the Vatican, you’ll know that the line is an hour-long, at a minimum.
This woman was waiting at the very front of the line trying to cut in.
We had already had a couple cut in front of us, and we’re fed up. We loudly informed her in English that the end of the line was alllllll the way back there. She pretended not to understand.
We repeated it in German, French, Italian, and Spanish until she walked away in a huff trying to cut elsewhere. We pointed her out and word traveled not to let her in and she left looking thoroughly angry.”
18. Try To Talk Over Me And Your Wife? I'll Side With Her
“When I was a service advisor at a big dealership, I would get a lot of people stressing themselves about the bill, despite the fact that all prices are discussed ahead of time. When a man and wife were talking to me, the man was trying to talk over and bully me, while his wife was siding with me.
She said, ‘Well if he says–’ and then the husband cut her off, and said, ‘Honey, please.’ As if, you’re a woman, butt out. She looked very upset.
I used this to my advantage. I stopped dealing with him when he kept trying to yell to get his point across.
I turned to her and said, ‘Ok, obviously you’re the adult here…’
He lost his marbles. As soon as he was about to go off on me, she looked at him with a ‘Shut up’ face. She apologized to me, paid the bill and they left.
My boss wasn’t thrilled, but he wasn’t mad at me either. Had a good chuckle.”
17. Yell At Me For Having Too Many Items? I'll Throw Yours Across The Store
“After working late one night I went to Walmart to get a ‘couple of items’ and you know how that goes at Walmart. Next thing I know I have 13 items. I walked up to a checkout line and didn’t realize that it was an express 12 or less item line.
Walmart was not busy at all, lanes to both sides of mine had only one person in them. A grumpy old man walks up behind me as I’ve just put my 13th item on the belt. He remarks, ‘there’s a special place for people like you!’ Not realizing he’s speaking to me I look around for the intended person.
That’s when he really starts in on me.
I explain to him in a very calm manner that I am very sorry, that I did not realize that it was the express lane, and offer for him to go in front of me.
He won’t quit his harassment. I mean saying things like, ‘You’re just too stupid to realize you were in the express lane you jerk, what are ya dumb or something?’
I tell him that I was raised to respect my elders, but he was crossing a line with me and that would not be tolerated.
He continues. Finally fed up with his antics I ask him, ‘Well how many items do YOU have?’
He replies, “I HAVE 12 ITEMS LIKE I’M SUPPOSED TO, YOU DUMMY!’ at the top of his lungs.
I grab his closest item, Colgate Toothpaste, and launch it as far as I can towards the back of the store and tell him he now has 11 items, would you like to work on 10? He goes absolutely nuts, screaming, hitting.
Not much damage, he is about 5’2″ 130 pounds and I am 6’1″, 205. I continue picking up his items and throwing them as far as I can. Get down to about 6 items before the manager and police officer get over to us.
The cashier explains what happened, the police officer handcuffs the guy for assaulting me, while the manager tries to keep a straight face about the whole situation. Officer asks me if I want to press assault charges, I reply, ‘No sir, his hitting really didn’t hurt. I wouldn’t consider it an assault.’ Cop laughs and escorts the guy out of the store.”
16. Yell At Me? Good Luck Driving Home
“I worked at a gas station for a few years. We were one of a few that sold diesel on this particular side of town.
Anyway, I was working one afternoon and this guy comes up to the counter complaining that the diesel pump wasn’t taking his card.
I checked my register and didn’t see anything so I told him that he might have put it in wrong or that it was too worn to work. I suggested that I could run his card inside if he’d like.
He flips at this point and starts questioning my intelligence, my family dynamic, and everything in between.
I was pretty taken aback, so I let him go on for a little bit. After I tried to calm him down with no success I walked out from behind the counter and told him to get out of my store (not really MY store, I just worked there).
I had to tell him a couple of times like he was a dog or something.
Anyway, the miserable jerk goes back to his car, starts messing with it some more. He finally comes back in and looks sheepish, like he realized he is out of gas and might not make it across town.
He was like ‘Can we try running my card inside?’ and I just had to laugh. Couldn’t help it. I told him to get out and off the property before I called the police, as I had already warned him for his language and behavior the first time.
The miserable jerk looked so down, I almost felt bad for him. But screw him. I hope he had to walk ten miles. I got paid garbage and I didn’t need his nonsense added to what the owner provided me in bulk every day.
As a sort of afterword, I ended up getting hurt at that job. Sprung a disc in my back. Ended up getting paid to stay home for a couple of years and after months of diagnostics and therapy, finally surgery. I’m pretty sure the owner’s insurance premium is in the stratosphere now. Serves ’em right.”
15. I Watched The Company That Took Everything From Me Suffer While I Flourished
“I was recruited by a well-known company, who convinced me to move my family from the city we loved, sell my family home, give up my well-established 17-year business and income, then work like a dog for a year building up a failing competitor, invest nearly $250,000, turn them around, nearly double the business in a year, then get shown the door at the end of the year when it was time for my permanent contract.
I’ve spent the past five years rebuilding nearly next door out of pure spite, spanking them daily at every chance I get. I’ve rebuilt the income I once had and now it can’t be taken from me in any way by corporate shills.
Hate can be one heck of an inspiration.
I get over it a bit more every day, but watching the person they shoved in to take my place slowly lose what they took from me has been quite healing.
Still, that day, that knife in the back. Betrayal seems a tame word.”
14. You Want Me To Take You To Court? If You Say So
“In December, I was selling an item of clothing in a social media group. I wanted either something bigger (trade) or to sell it. This guy, call him D, messages me and asks for a trade. That’s all fine and we both send off our items.
Weeks go by and I go to message him to say I haven’t received it but he’s blocked me. I got my partner to message him and he instantly unblocked me and was arrogant, saying that he’ll return my item if it’s that big of a deal.
Alright, fine. So I wait and wait and then comes August, I remember. He’s blocked me again! Again, my partner messages him and he blocks her. So I told my mum (I know, I know) and he apologized and said he’d pay me at the end of the month.
Again, okay.
The end of the month comes and I get a message: ‘If you message any of my family, I’ll get you done for harassment and I’ll get a non-molestation order against you!’ A non-molestation order is; type of injunction that may be sought by a victim of domestic abuse against their abuser.
Uh, I’ve never met this guy so like… Anyways, the message ends with ‘Take me to court then.’
Cue petty revenge. I called so many lawyers on this but because it was $54, they wouldn’t take it. So I sent him a letter saying he’s gotta pay or I’ll take him to small claims.
He sent my item back (!!!) after 9 months and said… ‘it was stuck at the post office.’ I opened it and it was disgusting, it was covered in animal hair and had sweat stains galore over it. I messaged him saying it was disgusting and he could have it back if he paid but he replied ‘Guess I’ll see you in court.’ So I went through with small claims.
He sent his defense in, saying it was a gift and blah blah blah whatever, he also said I sent him abusive messages. So I’m angry at this point. Our court hearing was $35 and I’d paid $35 for it to be sent to court originally so I was going through with it.
I sent in every piece of evidence I had, every chat log, and pictures.
March came around and a few weeks before, I was going ham looking through court docs. I even called the royal mail to ask them questions about post offices and times and shipping! I literally spent all day, every day focusing on this day.
Court day arrives and I answer the phone, the judge is lovely then she tries calling him twice, he doesn’t answer. After some back and forth, she’s frustrated and she said ‘Given that I’ve called D twice and he didn’t answer and he hasn’t submitted any evidence, I rule in your favor.’ So I’ve gotten $132 AND my item back.
I got the court letter yesterday and yup, it’s ruled in my favor and he has 21 days to pay or it’ll be taken further. Haha, I win.
All this over $54! I’m petty and proud.”
13. Keep Stealing My Tips? I'll Get Your Paycheck Cut
“A bit of backstory: I worked in a high-end pizza restaurant as a busboy and a server (not a waiter). This restaurant also had kitchen workers making pizzas, delivery drivers who did prep and made deliveries, and bar-girls who took your order when you came in and served you drinks at the bar that you placed your order at before you went to sit down at your table.
At the bar, there are two big tip jars that are usually jam-packed on busy nights. Now you would think the money in that jar would go to everyone right? Wrong.
Company policy back then was that half the money in the tip jars went to the main bargirl for that shift while the other half went to the main kitchen worker for the shift.
Not a penny went to any of the servers, this meant that the closing bar and kitchen people would get an extra $40 or $50 dollars in tips on top of their actual paycheck. Any time servers got tips was when customers left it on the table, but of course, that meant any of the servers could snatch it up if they bussed the table (I could write some crazy stories about that one day) and customers leaving a tip at the table was incredibly rare.
Petty Revenge Start:
One weekend I was scheduled to work the opening server shift, which I didn’t mind. Good Manager was substituting as the manager for the weekend while JerkBoss was away for a family vacation. The restaurant was fairly busy Saturday with about a quarter of the tables taken, including a nice family of four that included a kind customer sitting in the back of the restaurant.
I put on my best customer service skills, and serve all tables as best I can. As the people trickled out, the kind customer and her family were leaving and they wanted to give me a tip but at the time couldn’t find me.
(I was taking a phone order at the time.) As I walked from the backroom that was beside the bar, the kind customer found me by accident.
Me: ‘Have a great day ma’am.’
Kind Customer: ‘Thank you, same with you. I couldn’t find you to give you a tip, so I gave it to the nice lady (points at the bar girl) at the bar to give to you.’
I internally groaned as I watched the kind customer walk out the door.
The bar girl didn’t have the typical Karen haircut, but she had the ‘I’m better than you and I know it’ attitude. After the customer walks out the door, I go straight to the bar girl all while the general manager is standing nearby drinking water beside her.
Me: ‘Excuse me Bar Girl, could I get that tip the customer gave you?’
Bar Girl: ‘Ooh that. I’ll count you out later.’
Me: ‘I’d really like it now.’ (tips for servers are rare.)
Bar Girl: ‘Later.’
Before I can get another word in the phone rings and she instantly answers it (the first time I’ve seen her actually take one) to avoid talking to me.
I look past her and see the general manager lightly jerk his head as if to say ‘go bus the customer’s table.’
I groan and proceed to get back to work. But all that day and into the dinner shift I approach the bar girl about the tips I was owed.
She would say every time that ‘She would count me out later.’ But every time I asked her and she responded the same way I made it a point that the manager was standing well within earshot. I forgot how many times I asked her for my money, but it was at least six times, and she would always give the same response.
I was let off for the evening and asked one last time before walking out the door. She told me that she was ‘very busy with customers.’ I let it slide and leave for the night.
The next day I’m working the same shift, same manager, and same bargirl.
Right after clocking in and minutes before customers come into the restaurant I walk up to the empty bar with the bargirl and manager behind it. The bar girl is on her cell phone texting while the manager is standing nearby writing inventory in a binder when the following occurs:
Me: ‘Hey Bar Girl can I get my tips now?’
Bar Girl: ‘What tips?’
Me: ‘The tips from last night? Remember that customer gave you money to give to me cause she couldn’t find me?’
Bar Girl: ‘Ooh, you didn’t make any,’ sneering before turning back to her phone
Me: ‘Last night a customer gave you money that was meant for me, and I’d like it,’ holding my hand out beside her phone.
Bar Girl: Not looking up from her phone, ‘You didn’t get any.’
At this point the manager closes the prep folder he’s been writing and approaches, ‘Excuse me, what is going on?’
Bar Girl: ‘He thinks I took his tips from yesterday.’
Me: ‘I served a woman last night, and she wanted to give me a tip but couldn’t find me.
So she gave the tip to her.’ As I point to the bar girl.
Manager: ‘I know all last night he was asking for his tips, and you said that you would count him out later.’
Bar Girl: ‘He didn’t get any tips.’
Manager: ‘Was it the lady in the back room?’
Me: ‘Yeah,’ I nod my head as I point to the table at the back of the restaurant.
‘She was sitting there with her family.’
Manager: ‘Well I know for a fact she asked to give a tip to her server, but couldn’t find him. So why didn’t OP get his tips?’
Bar Girl: ‘He didn’t get those tips cause he doesn’t deserve them.’
Manager: ‘Why is that?’
Bar Girl: ‘He didn’t deserve them, I do! He’s a server, I’m a bargirl! I’m pretty damn it!’ (Yes, she actually said that.)
Manager: ‘OP go wash dishes or something, Bar Girl let’s go into the office.’
I walk into the dish area and smirk from ear to ear, thinking this was the end of it…
how wrong I was.
A few days later the Jerk Boss had come back from his vacation and finds out what happened over the weekend. The man was notorious for writing ‘get out of jail’ free cards to people if it was ‘for the good of the company’.
This has led to some employees thinking since they were ‘essential employees’ they could get away with stuff they’d certainly be written up or fired if it happened under a competent manager. The first-day Jerkboss and I worked together he asks me to step into the office before I can begin my shift for the dinner shift.
Jerkboss: ‘What happened last weekend?’
I go into detail on how I served the customer, how they left the tip to the bargirl for me cause they couldn’t find me, how I asked multiple times for the tips I was owed and never got it, and how I confronted her.
Then he cut me off.
Jerkboss: ‘I’m afraid I can’t excuse what you did.’
Me: ‘What I did? What about what she did? You’re gonna excuse her for theft?’
Jerkboss: ‘She did nothing wrong. Half the tips go to her while the other half went to the kitchen worker.
You know the rules OP.’
Me: ‘Yes I do know the rules. The rule states ‘Half the contents of the TIP JARS go to the main shifts bar girl and the other half go to the main shifts kitchen worker’ but this customer handed the tip to Bar Girl and told her the tip was for me, and Bar Girl kept it for herself.’
Jerkboss: ‘Either way I am not punishing her and that’s final! Now go back to work or I’ll write you up.’
I leave the office, only to be met with the smug grin of the bar girl standing behind the counter.
I walk into the dish area where all the other servers were standing there loitering around. They all knew from how I was pestering her on Saturday that I was supposed to get tips, and all of them were delighted when they heard the manager had pulled her into the office to lecture her.
However, punishment for all employees at our restaurant was decided and ultimately handed out by Jerkboss.
Me: ‘I need to make a phone call, cover me for a few minutes.’
All the servers nodded as they all guessed what I was about to do.
I left the restaurant and went behind the dumpster out back and called the manager. I told him he refused to punish the bar girl and threatened to write me up. He promised to check into everything.
The fallout was great. The owner of the franchise got involved and reviewed everything.
While I didn’t get my tip, the manager now had to give the main server for the shift and the closing dishwasher a portion of the tip jar. It irritated Bar Girl so much that she wasn’t making as much money anymore, so she left the company about three months later, but of course not without being a royally sized Karen every night I worked with her.
The surprising thing is where she went to work next: a bank (no joke).
After that Jerkboss severely cut my hours so that a new server would get double the days and hours I got, and he rarely ever scheduled me to close.
Also when the minimum wage went up he didn’t think I ‘deserved a raise’ despite working for the company for so long. I continued to work there despite this since I had difficulty finding other employment, which is difficult since I have some bad knee, back, and asthma problems.
Eventually, Jerkboss was offered a job at an auto shop, which he was raving had better pay, shorter hours, and was closer to home. Jerkboss left the company and the new manager who took over is way nicer. All the toxic people who thought they were ‘essential employees’ and benefitted from the countless ‘get out of jail’ free cards were upset that they couldn’t get away with the nonsense they had fun doing when Jerkboss was manager.
They all trickled out of the company one by one and were all replaced by employees who were not only more polite, but better at the job.
Now you’re all thinking ‘This must be where the story ends.’ Well there’s one last cherry on top
Jerkboss suddenly realized the auto shop wasn’t as great as it was promised and soon began asking Good Manager if he could come back. I laughed when I heard this, since after Jerkboss left, the pizzeria is booming with profit, and it is now a much nicer place to work.”
12. Try To Ruin My Senior Year? I'll Ruin Your Final Grade
“When I was in high school, I took AP classes, and my favorite subject was English. (Still is, went on to get my Bachelor’s degree in it.) For my senior year, though, I was stuck in one of two AP classes on campus for 6th period, and this one had all the kids I didn’t get along with.
Some were neutral, some were just the kind of stuck-up that didn’t associate with anyone except their friends, but a good portion were active bullies of mine. They would openly mock me (my weight, my social awkwardness/anxiety, a couple were even very prejudiced to me but not the other girls in the class), ostracize me, and try to turn the neutral kids against me.
I’m not saying I was perfect, but I was a quiet kid and tried not to bother anyone unless I was attempting to defend myself. I was also being harassed in my 7th-period library aide class, this comes into play later.
The class was laid out in ‘islands’ – each island was made up of six desks and your island was your group for whenever group activities came up. Ms. Cindy, the teacher, initially had assigned seats, but since the class was so small (about 26 or so) and everyone knew each other, everyone moved seats to be with their friends.
Except for me, because I didn’t have any friends in this class. My whole island moved away from me, and I sat in the back corner island alone, surrounded by five other desks.
We were reading a book that not very many people enjoyed and then Ms.
Cindy announced the big research project for it. Everyone had to get into groups with their islands, write a research paper, and give a presentation to the class. The presentation had to be some form of visual medium (PowerPoint, pamphlets, etc.) and effort would be taken into account for a grade.
She also said that, since the only thing that mattered for the college credit was the grade on the AP test at the end of the year, this project would be graded on a curve. I think she was trying to make it easier.
Of course, everyone in class groaned, nearly everyone hated the book, but we dutifully started. I, on my lonely island, started working on my own, but Ms. Cindy, trying to give me a fighting chance, told me to go find an island to join.
Each other island had at least one open desk. I went over to each island and was promptly rejected. Some did it silently, moving their backpacks or books to the empty seat(s) basically saying ‘you can’t sit with us,’ but the two islands with the more vocal bullies basically straight up said they didn’t want me.
Ms. Cindy started to press the issue but I told her not to worry. I got this.
I was hurt, sure. But the bullying was not foreign to me. As I said earlier, I was being harassed in my 7th-period class (asked inappropriate questions and mocked my chest size and lack of experience by two other girls), and around this time I was going to administration to get it sorted.
So I had a feeling that I was likely going to switch classes. Therefore, the plan formed: I would utterly wreck that curved grade, ruining the assignment grade for the whole class, then dip the heck out.
Thus, it began. I wrote the best 10-page research paper of my entire high school career (it only had to be 7 pages) and I made a freaking documentary.
Not a PowerPoint, not a pamphlet, not anything easy or trivial.
No. This was a 14-minute masterpiece on comparing and contrasting this book with Mark Twain’s body of work, namely Huckleberry Finn. Fully acted with me, my younger brother, and his then-partner pretending to be the experts that I quoted in my research paper.
(Basically took the quotes and read them in different costumes that made us look professional and professorial.) I narrated the points, edited scenes from plays and movies and pictures, and everything I could, included music, effects, Photoshop, everything my dad had taught me about editing videos.
And my favorite part? The credits, where everything was made by ME. (Of course I credited my brother and his partner for their acting roles but I did everything else by myself.)
The day before the project was slated to start being presented, a Wednesday, I was notified that I would be getting my classes switched beginning that next Monday.
I would no longer be in either of the toxic classes and I would be able to be with my friends in 7th period English. Hooray!
But I had worked too hard on my stupid revenge, so I was glad to wait a couple of extra days.
Thursday rocked up, and the presentations are your normal fare. They’re… fine. But the kids presenting them basically just read off of about five slides, one per kid in the island. It seems there had been some sort of agreement between them all that, since it was a curve, they’d all turn in around the same quality work and get a good grade.
No one had bothered to clue me in on this because, hey, I’m the loser idiot working on a group project alone. No way I’d be able to pull off better, right?
Friday comes, and I’m the second to last one. (Islands were drawn randomly.) I go up to Ms.
Cindy and hand her my paper and my flash drive. Nothing unusual, most everyone else had brought in a flash drive. But when she plugged it in and I sat back down, she was utterly confused.
‘CoalTownQueen, where’s your PowerPoint? You need to come up and present.’
‘I don’t have a PowerPoint.’
‘You don’t have a presentation?’
‘I didn’t say that.
Try that .mp4 file.’
She does. She hits the lights. And my masterpiece is shown. I can see every single other islands’ reaction. Most were silently grumbly. The one or two truly overambitious types looked petrified, knowing this had wrecked the curve they’d been banking on.
But the best was the vocal bullies; they GLARED at me, didn’t watch a second of the film. They whispered furiously to the rest of their islands, but some of them were shushed because the others were enjoying my documentary! Ha!
My work was done.
And Monday I was gone. But the grade remained because I had turned it in while I was still in that other class.
I got a 96% (100 for the movie, 92 for the paper). And the rest of the class, according to the nice kids in my new 7th period English class who knew some of the kids in 6th, averaged about a C, C+.
For some of them, that must have HURT. Some of us had really strict parents. But I wrecked their curve and showed that I didn’t need their acceptance. It felt good.
I know Ms. Cindy used my movie for a few years to show other classes, but I don’t know if she still does. The rest of my senior year after the class switch went pretty smoothly, and I got to enjoy it with my friends.”
11. Complain About Our Service? I'll Mess Up Your Grocery Order
“I have been working at Ralphs Grocery Store for 8 months now, and this story starts 1 month into my employment. It was raining outside and I was braving the elements to bring in carts for customers, and a lady, I will call her ‘Mrs.
Wonderful’, decides it is my fault that none of the available carts are dry, directing her very loud and aggressive voice past the stand with paper towels to dry the carts, right at me. I begin fuming inside at this entitled jerk who is too good for the elements, but I smile and wipe down her cart for her.
I tell her that if customers brought their carts up to the front after unloading their groceries, none of them would be wet, but she disregarded my statements, and later left her cart in the middle of one of the handicapped spots, for it to get rained on.
The gears have begun to turn in my head.
Months go by, with her coming in about twice a week to buy $300.00 dollars worth of expensive wine and vegan groceries, for her very wealthy husband I assume, based on her massive ring and Porsche Carrera GT.
And then I became a cashier, and I saw my opportunity. Whenever I worked, I would watch for her, and when she got in line I would hop on a register and call her over to my line to checkout. Everything was ready for my revenge.
At our first encounter behind the register, I slipped her salt off the belt to the side, because the only reason people buy salt is because they are out, and basically everything needs salt. I don’t ring it up, it’s not on the receipt, it’s not in her bags, and it’s not hers.
Perfect. She comes in the next day, only for salt, and with a very unhappy look on her face, I smirk. I do this a couple more times, not every time, because this is a long play, and I cannot get caught, but about every third time.
But I think she is about to put 2 and 2 together, so I move to phase two of the plan.
I start to take items off her belt at other cashiers’ registers. She comes in screaming at my manager because her items keep going missing.
On the day before, I had taken the Cumin from her belt on another cashier’s register. Mrs. Wonderful speed walks in, arms a-swinging, and walks up to the 58-year-old gentleman who had rung her up the day before, and yells ‘WHERE IS MY CUMIN’, and he started laughing.
Made this all worth it, and made me want to continue this to the next level. Mrs. Wonderful then storms over to my manager, who says she will look into it but never does because she thinks Mrs. Wonderful is just looking for free groceries.
Then Mrs. Wonderful begins to stare intently at the belt when she is checking out. Darn, what am I going to do now?
So whenever I am sweeping the floors and I see her. I steal an item from Mrs. Wonderful’s basket.
Even watching the belt she sees nothing happening, yet her butter, an egg (yes, only a single egg from the carton), some spices, the occasional meat, and when I’m feeling really ballsy, a bottle of booze, gets put swiftly back on the shelf.
I can visibly see her breaking down week after week. Looking in her cart to make sure everything is there every minute, watching the belt, being aggressive and hateful to the cashiers.
I step it up another notch. I start to not steal her groceries but swap them with the competitors’ brands.
I have no idea if she notices, but it makes me feel good inside to think that she is confused when she gets home. One particular night I replaced her 50 dollar bottle of booze with a 3 dollar bottle which I had stored under the register, one that looks eerily similar to the one she bought, and I think I saw her start to tear up when I rang the correct one up for the next day.
At least I hope that’s what I saw. 1 month ago I decided to lay off this woman because I think I broke her enough to say I’ve gotten my revenge. That didn’t stop her from still checking over her shoulder, watching the belt, staring at the screen that tallies up the order every time she is in the store.
BUT, she still leaves her cart in the lot and doesn’t put it away, so I am still taking items out of her cart every once in a while, just to keep her on edge, anxious, and fearful, and will continue to haunt her shopping experience, Forever.
So Mrs. Wonderful, thank you for shopping at Ralph’s, where you get Real Low Prices and a Fast Checkout.”
Another User Comments:
“You know what I’ve learned? When you’re sent out on carts, no one cares about whether or not you have a nametag on.
And if you catch people too lazy to put their carts away while they’re leaving, they’ll be too lazy to actually go back to the store and point you out to your manager. So a nametag is all they can use
The last few days have been quite fun.
Someone parked in front of the cart entrance (which also has a No Parking Fire Lane sign). I politely told them that they had to move, they ignored me. I told them that we needed to get in through that entrance, as the others cannot accommodate the line of 22 carts our machine is pushing.
They could even just back up 10 feet so we could drop the carts off instead of blocking traffic. They open the SUV’s hatch and start loading their over-full cart of stuff in.
I tell them ‘Well, I have to move this line out of everyone’s way at least’ and push half directly in front of and the other half as close to the open hatch as possible.
The guy starts telling me that I have to move them, and I say ‘You mean like through that entrance?’ and walk past him staring without blinking. Not a customer in the store (well, the exiting area and the parking lot) complained about me, but as I was leaving to go grab the next line, I heard some old lady yelling at him about how he’s not the only one at the store and she needs to get to her car.” BraedonB
10. Won't Clean My Dishes? I'll Lock Them Up So You Can't Use Them
“So I live in student halls and there are normally 7 people here, however, only one other guy and I came back after Christmas.
He came back a few weeks before me and I come back to find moldy and crusty dishes.
Bear in mind that everyone except for him cleaned up before going home for Christmas, and he was first to leave so we put all his dirty dishes in a bag by his door.
Since then I’ve had ongoing issues with him using my kitchen stuff and leaving it dirty.
Normally I wouldn’t care but he has not washed a single thing since he’s got back, he’s been using everyone else’s stuff and leaving them to mold in the sink.
It got to the point where the cleaner was refusing to touch any of it and it was becoming a hygiene issue so I’ve repeatedly asked him to wash and he has repeatedly said he will with no result.
So I’ve put it all into the same bag of dirty dishes from before Christmas and left it on the sofa in the kitchen.
Still, no change and he’s just reusing what was already molding in his room and he’d began eating my food too and getting annoyed about it when I tell him to replace it.
I’ve tried asking management if they can do anything about it and they’ve said they’ll talk to him about it and say he’ll need to pay for a professional cleaning.
Even after that, still no change so I’ve decided I’m no longer going to give him a chance to use or eat my things.
I’ve moved my food to a lockable mini fridge and put locks on my cupboards.
I know it may seem excessive but if he had been cleaning up after himself as he went I wouldn’t mind, it’s the fact he’s been using everyone else’s stuff and leaving it dirty and then uses mine and leaves it for me to clean
I may update as I’ve only just put the locks on today but it seems to be working as I can hear dishes being clanked and moved around so I can only assume it’s the bag of dirty dishes.
Doesn’t bother me that I have to unlock it to get to my stuff. Now he doesn’t have anything clean, so have fun washing up to 3 months’ worth of mold buddy. We’ll see how it goes.”
User Updates:
“So since the locks were installed I did find my drawer ripped open once with another flatmate’s things in there which was strange but I reattached it with gorilla tape and it seems to have done the job since then.
As for my gross flatmate, he had an old flatmate round (I think he fancies her but she thinks he’s a bit of a jerk so I did kinda use that to my advantage) and was hanging out in the kitchen with our other cool flatmate too.
I did hang out with them for a bit but wanted to head to bed semi-early, so when I was leaving I asked him to wash up as it’s gross and moldy and I’d been asking him since New years. He tried to negotiate with me I think mostly to show off to the girl but I told him it shouldn’t be negotiation when it’s not even his stuff mostly.
It seemed to do the trick by shaming him in front of his friends as he did wash up everything, however, he definitely was not happy the way I went about it. All the moldy food that was on the plate was ‘somehow’ scattered outside my door, I was on a call with my mum when I found out.
She was asking maybe it’s been tracked from the kitchen but since I’m furthest from the kitchen and both the guys are right next to it he would’ve had to make a point of coming to my end of the hall to put it there.
Needless to say, I was not happy and I immediately went to reception to tell them. Luckily the welfare manager rocked up right at that moment so I told him and he said he would come up and talk to him.
The way his job is he can’t outright ask about things students have come to him about but he did ask him how he was and if there was any tension in the flat etc, standard stuff. He said that my flatmate denied any issues and said everything was fine but he did tell me after he didn’t believe him as he was acting kinda shifty.
But the poor welfare manager was the one who cleaned up the food and I felt terrible and tried to help him but he said it was fine. My gross flatmate did see him cleaning it and didn’t say anything about it, but the welfare manager said he looked quite embarrassed about it.
A few days after that my flatmate pretty much just ignored me. I ran into him at the main door and held it open for him and he didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or nod, just walked past. I kinda said to myself (probably a bit too loudly) ‘stinking rude’.
I’m guessing he heard that because since then, it’s been pretty much ok. There are some unwashed dishes building up in the kitchen again but the flatmate whose stuff he used and left the most came back to get her stuff and move out, so now he doesn’t really have anything except for his buddy’s stuff.
Though we do have a cleaner come around every Monday so I’ve been making a point of putting clean dishes on the counter so he can clean the sink. The dirty dishes are in the same bag as before which my gross flatmate has now claimed to use for his groceries.
(it ain’t my food so it’s not my problem, my stuff is in a different fridge now anyway.)
I doubt he’s gonna do his own washing up again any time soon but he’s using his buddy’s stuff anyway now and he’s pretty good at cleaning up after himself.
I’m going back to my parents next week anyway for Easter, but I’m gonna try and find a place to move into not long after I come back as I have been given the all-clear to move. I just need to find a place. So here’s hoping but it’s doing a ton better, I just need to stop forgetting the key to the cupboards.” NoisyScrubBirb
9. She Was Put To Shame For Trying To Return A Perfectly Good Stereo
“I work in a resale center for a local non-profit organization. We have signs plastered everywhere that ‘all sales are final’ period. I generally work in the back going through donations, testing electronics, so on and so forth. Well, one day we got a pretty nice Sony portable stereo system.
I tested it.. and my co-workers and I played around with it in the backroom for a few days before putting it out on the floor. Usually when we test things we write ‘tested’ on the price tag but still offer people to test things out for themselves if they want.
Some lady bought it (I wasn’t present) for 25 bucks (not bad for a stereo system with detachable speakers). A few days later she came back to return it. My co-worker who was working the front came and got me since she had known I tested it because the lady had complained it didn’t work.
I plugged it in, turned it on, and popped a CD in. Sounded fine. She complained that the Radio didn’t work. Alright. I turned it to the radio and put it on a station I knew worked. Sounded great. She complained.
She doesn’t listen to bad music, she only listens to classical. She turned it to a well-known station (talk radio/classical) and it was fuzzy. My co-worker chimed in ‘That station is ALWAYS fuzzy, My husband listens to it and it’s fuzzy in our car.
It’s just the station, not the stereo.’ Well, the lady wasn’t happy about that and blabbed about how it sounded perfectly clear and crisp on her other system.
After arguing a bit back and forth about how ALL sales are final – it’s on the receipt and plastered everywhere in the store – she decided to test Her cd.
A classical CD. I put the CD in, sounded perfectly fine. She pointed to a speaker and said, ‘SEE, It sounds fuzzy! It wasn’t properly tested! It’s broken! I want store credit.’ We don’t do store credit. We don’t even have a damn computer in the store.
Just an old-school register with its own set of problems. She wasn’t happy. She said for us to keep the stereo and said we don’t know how to test things… basically trashed talked us and she went to turn around after saying, ‘yes I’m donating it, I don’t want a broken stereo.’ (mind you there were several customers in the store and this lady was being loud and obnoxious to try and make us look bad.) We tell her we’re sorry.
All sales are final, with no exchanges, refunds, or store credit. It goes to a good cause to help people out in our local community and we appreciated her business. She got mad and just as she turned to walk out a customer who had been listening wanted to buy the stereo right then and there and mentioned how the lady needed a new hearing aid and to stop being such a jerk to us. It was pretty awesome. The rest of the customers in the store said we were really nice and kept complimenting us on our customer service.”
8. I Wrote My Mean Uncle A Nasty Letter
“My ‘uncle’ moved in with us for a bit after he lost his job, etc. This is a man I’d not seen since I was about 2 (in my 20’s now.) So he’s staying with us, doesn’t contribute ANYTHING, complains about my cooking (he said it was too salty), and then goes out and buys TV Dinners loaded with salt.
He eventually had a heart attack and pretty much blamed it on me, said I was stressing him too much. I guess telling him I didn’t appreciate his bigotry and ignorance when he went off on rants about how the government was out to get him was too stressful.
Anyway, my mom gave him a few months’ notice and said he had to get out by a certain date, all in a calm measured tone, never raising her voice. He went off on her and was shouting that he had the right to stay there, didn’t cost anything (even though he used our water, electricity, and owed my dad $200+ for paying to get his van fixed, etc etc.) Later he tells my dad (his brother) that he wanted to slap my mom (who is missing a leg and has lupus) upside the head, but my dad agreed with my mom and told him he had to leave.
I knew if I tried to talk to him he’d just go off and not listen so I wrote him a nice letter. I called him a worthless human being and I told him that I am ashamed that we are related and I don’t consider him to be my blood at all.
I congratulated him on showing me how a man should not act and informed him that I would not tolerate threats (idle or not) against my mother, and I would no longer have any contact with him, and I was eagerly counting the days until he was out of our home and our lives.
He moved out a few weeks later and is now living off the government, got new teeth (my dad can’t even afford dentures WITH insurance and two people working full-time jobs, he has one tooth left in his mouth.) My ‘uncle’ apparently still complains about how other people get more work than he does. Despicable despicable man. He even rejected a kind gesture of a Christmas gift once.”
7. Mess With My Dad And He'll Stuff Your Car With Cherries
“This happened back when I was in high school, but the memory of this one makes my entire family laugh to this day, so I remember this one quite well.
For backstory: my family has gone camping ever since I can remember, I even celebrated my 10th birthday camping with family friends.
So every summer when my younger sister and I were out of school for the summer, my parents would take us camping on Vancouver island a lot and just generally hopping around BC.
I can’t remember the entire nature of our trip, but we were passing through Vancouver and decided to check out the aquarium.
For those who don’t know, the aquarium is located in a park on an island with only 2 bridges on and off, and one road that loops the entire island. So as you can imagine, parking and traffic can get pretty hectic, and this day was like no other.
The story: after taking some pictures in the park, we decide to drive up to the aquarium parking lot and get in the queue with all the other vehicles. Kinda stop and go as the parking is all one way and diagonal into each side and you have to let people in and out of spots.
I can’t really remember how the whole lot was arranged though cause it’s never been me who drove there, and there are huge trees everywhere.
We see a car pull out of a space and my dad tries to squeeze in but doesn’t quite fit right, so he decides to try another.
He backs up a bit just to see behind the car beside us and this lady lays into her horn. Mind you it’s pretty hot out so most people have their windows down so a lot of people turn and look.
The lady sticks her head out the window and screams:
‘WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!! I HAVE KIDS IN MY CAR!!’
Dad: ‘Whoa okay sorry just backing up a bit to see traffic. I saw you coming.’
Lady: ‘Ugh whatever.’ And I kid you not, she dramatically flips her ponytail, flips us off, and drives off.
Whatever. We go to an emptier area of the parking lot and pull into a spot in the shade. My dad has always been pretty frugal, plus he had really bad gout on this trip, so he decided he was gonna nap in the car while my mom took my sister and me into the aquarium.
As we get out of our car, we look to our left, and it’s that same angry lady helping one of her two kids out of a car seat. The kids aren’t really involved cause I didn’t really get a good look at them and didn’t say anything.
The lady notices and turns to my dad.
Lady: ‘YOU KNOW YOU COULD HAVE HURT MY KIDS!’ Oh boy.
Dad: already ticked off by seeing her ‘I’m sorry, but as I said before, I was just inching out to see people so I DON’T hit them.’
My dad is a no-nonsense kind of guy.
He’ll be nice up until you give him a reason not to be. And this lady just loaded the gun for him. They have a couple more exchanges and end it before my mom, sis and I leave the car and say bye to dad.
Sis: loudly mocking the lady as we leave, ‘we have kids too.’ (she was maybe 10 so I laughed a bit, especially since I’m older.)
We see the lady with her kids in the aquarium, but we don’t make any exchanges. It’s pretty dark in there so she probably didn’t see us or maybe didn’t care.
Mom, sis, and I are just enjoying ourselves. We do have a ferry to catch later that afternoon, so we head back to the car. Dad’s got his legs propped up but isn’t totally knocked out when we got back. As we’re getting to leave, he tells us he’s got a funny story for us.
Now, if you’re someone who knows my dad, you know he doesn’t smile much. He’s a stern kind of guy with a resting witch face (I laughed so hard when my friend told me that, cause he was right) so when he tells us he’s got a story with a grin on his face, you know it’s gonna be good.
Turns out, that the lady reeeaaaaalllly didn’t sit well with him, and he decided he wanted to do something about it. After the lady left with her kids, he waited until no one was looking and hobbled out of the car (his gout was so bad he had to use crutches).
He then brought a bunch of cherries we bought along the way, mushed them up, and stuffed the jam into the lady’s car’s air intake with a stick. He did take out the pits, he’s not that much of a jerk.
But basically what’s gonna happen is over time, the cherries are going to rot and stink up the car when you turn on your AC. It’ll wash out eventually, but since BC is pretty humid, those cherries aren’t gonna dry anytime soon and keep stinking until they are completely gone.
He says it’ll take a week maybe with the rain the coast gets, but we had a wickedly good forecast ahead of us so I can’t say I trust his estimate.
So after he tells us all of this, the rest of us are basically laughing and in shock cause we never thought he’d ever do something THAT petty.
He might say something but never act on it. Regardless, we shared a great family moment and continued on our journey.
The best part of this petty revenge/entitled parent story: they’ll never know what’s going on, and why their car smells like rotten cherries.
Moral of the story: don’t upset my dad.
Looking back, I’m not sure if it was chill to mess with someone’s car like that, but there were no actual damages. Only cherries in places she couldn’t see. To this day I still wonder about that lady and if she suspected us or anything.
Who knows. I still think it’s a really good story to give an example of how my dad can be.”
Another User Comments:
“lmao reminds me of when my auntie got married in the 70s. My Dad and Uncles decided to play a prank on the newlyweds and put a fresh fish on the manifold of their car. Auntie and now Uncle were planning on driving from Nova Scotia to Vancouver for their new jobs and it took them till the far side of Quebec to figure out why their car reeked of rotten fish LMAO.” Waifer2016
6. Refuse Training? You'll Regret That
“I work in a head office of a family-run essential business that has 10 satellite locations. Most of the managers at those locations are fine. The fellow who runs the storefront attached to the office is a real peach though so will be referred to as such.
He comes into my office all the time to complain about every little thing from his staff not working to how we aren’t processing his requests for inventory fast enough. Our DM hates his guts because his staff has to be rotated out on a weekly basis because they just don’t want to work with him as he constantly berates everyone and no mistake is ever his fault.
It’s gotten so bad that the other staff refuses to be rotated to the head office storefront.
Peach also loves to come into my office strutting about like he owns the place and stealing things off of our desks when we’re not looking or away.
Nothing major just pens and supplies but it’s very annoying. I do suspect him of stealing lunches but I can’t really prove it.
He’s also very disorganized and makes our job harder. His invoices are a mess and he doesn’t properly account for his inventory or expenses.
And we have to put up with it because he turns up the charm with the owners (a really nice couple) and is the top sales guy in the company (hence his posting here).
So now to my petty revenge. It is an ongoing situation.
Our software provider is going to roll out a new version of our invoicing software. Functionally it is the same. But visually it’s like night and day and a lot of the old menus have been slimmed down or moved around.
It’s my responsibility to do teleconferences with the staff at our locations and illustrate to them the differences and conduct training as best as I am able given the circumstances. And we’ll be rolling out the new version this coming Monday as our provider will be ceasing support for all previous versions.
I showed the cashier just fine. Peach refuses to learn. I told him that it would be to his benefit to learn now as support was ceasing. He didn’t care. I told him that the new version would be rolling out very soon and the DM needed everyone to be on the same page and using the new software.
Also didn’t care. And then he told me he would continue using the old version. He’s the type that just does what he wants.
In my final zoom meeting with the owners and the software people today I reported that the new version is good and that most of the staff were taking to it well.
But if our provider was ceasing support for the old version there would be no need to keep it installed at the storefront surely? Everyone agreed. So at week’s end, the plug is going to be pulled on it at the store level.
The upper management and owners support this fully for the sake of efficiency and the software company thinks it’s great to pull the bandaid off quickly so to speak and I guess this saves them resources too.
Peach’s cashier is aware and she is eagerly awaiting the hissy fit on Monday.”
User Updates:
“About noon, coincidentally when Peach’s cashier goes on lunch, he rolls into my office mad as a wet cat and stomps up to my desk.
He asks/yells at me why we can’t keep using the old system.
I tell him that support has been discontinued by the developer. And besides, the new system has better security, which is true, that was a big plus for the owners as we’ve had a lot of trouble in the past with data theft by former employees.
He screams back at me that it makes no sense.
I tell him that the plug has been pulled. Just like how we don’t use MSDOS anymore. Yes, we are that old.
He gets it now and I internally smile to myself as he furrows his brow and tries to think of a solution.
Peach then asks me if we can hack the old version and bring it back and use it in perpetuity and then junk the new version.
I try my best to diplomatically tell him how massively illegal this would be and how we would be sued and that this is a stupid idea.
He doesn’t respond well let’s say and leaves.
I get a call from the DM immediately afterward that apparently he’s refusing to work and this hurts the DM’s pay. I explain the situation to him about how Peach refused training. He heaves a heavy sigh.
He doesn’t even ask to see my documentation about who completed the training. Fortunately for me, this is old news to him.
Peach calls me back later in the afternoon. He opens up with a shot across my bow saying that I don’t know how inconvenient this is, that I don’t work in the frontlines, how he needs to hustle, and how hard it is when he’s trying to use the program.
I tell him as neutrally as I can this all could have been avoided last week if he had cooperated.
He hangs up on me.
The DM then calls me back and we go through the same song and dance again. I bring up at this point that the owners really desired the extra security the new version provides which he knows.
Not sure what happened after that but Peach calls me back near the end of the day and just tells me that I have to train him now and to do a good job.
I kind of have had it at this point as I’ve been fielding calls all day from the other 9 managers and compiling a bug and concern list for the programmers to deal with.
So I snarkily tell him that I’ll see him last week for our scheduled training.
He hangs up on me.” Raxtenko
5. Teacher's Jealousy Affected My Grades So I Got Her Fired
“This story took place a few years ago when I was going to a private high school in Germany.
It wasn’t a rich private school, the fees weren’t too high, the teachers really did a great job and helped me through my first degree so I decided to go a step further in education and add some years to it to obtain a higher education level.
Since I’m half German, half American needing to learn English anyway to communicate with my father, not to say I spoke it anywhere fluently, I usually succeeded comfortably in English at school.
You know the type of teacher, surely you’ve encountered them too, who hates it when a kid sits in their class and already has a lot of knowledge over the subject they are teaching? I’ve seen it in history class, IT class, Biology, and that teacher just start hating the kid’s gut.
Well, I guess I was that ‘kid’ this time. Now I was older and I was not having it.
So let’s call this teacher Karen. I started my new year with new teachers in the school and Karen introduced herself as our English teacher, she told us she just freshly became a new teacher and is excited to work with us for the next 2 years.
And you could tell she was a green one, she seemed really nervous in front of us, always rocking herself back and forth and moving a lot, playing with small objects. I noticed her accent was heavily German and that she often switched between both languages mid-sentence, but I thought maybe she has anxiety or just needs time to settle in.
But weeks pass and the work she gave us was to be nice, grade 7 level, mind you this was grade 12. At some point I started helping the teacher out with translating single words back and forth or ending her sentences in English, sometimes when asked, sometimes when not, I didn’t care much about it and only acted when it was absolutely wrong.
I would also help her in her class and start explaining and answering questions to my colleagues when she went to help others. At this point, I asked myself how she even got her degree in the first place.
My grades were solid As, no worries until my grade for communication in the class came back and it was a D.
Since my English seemed to be as good as hers and since I had to help her out so often and I was active in class, I confronted her after class about the grade and an explanation for it. She just tells me that I don’t say enough in class from her viewpoint and that I shouldn’t act like I already know everything, to not be too sure about my abilities and that I was being lazy.
I knew immediately she had it in for me, but she messed with the wrong one. She forgot I’ve been in this school longer than her and I was taught by the most respected British lady in this house before her (she gave me 13-grade stuff and let me listen to music cause she knew my experience.) Honestly, I loved that lady.
So I went roaming around school and ‘accidentally’ walked into her with a sad face. Immediately she asked me what was going on so I told her about Karen, how she acts so nervous, and about how she gave me a bad grade.
I said that I didn’t want to be too rude or make any assumptions, so she should sit in our class herself.
So she did, by surprise just casually slid in halfway through class the following day and watched. Karen was sweating like crazy since what she taught us in this lesson was also 7-9 grade level stuff when we were supposed to be preparing for our final English exam grade 13.
My lovely British lady gave me a look and one week later I met Karen in the hallway with her stuff in her hands asking me if I was happy now, cause she got fired. I just looked her straight in the eyes and told her that maybe she shouldn’t be too sure about her abilities.
I’m petty like that haha.”
Another User Comments:
“So relieved to hear it’s not just America that has a terrible foreign language teaching program for high school.
I took French in high school and didn’t really learn anything. I took time before college (about 6 years) and had to take a language for my degree.
Since my husband’s family is French, (he is a first-generation American on his dad’s side) I decided to take French in college. Night and day with one exception. The teachers from Provence and Normandy were amazing and I learned so much.
The American teacher was TERRIBLE. She mispronounced words (said parce-que like pars ka instead of pas que, which is correct pronunciation) and didn’t really teach, just followed along with the textbook.
The kicker? She supervised the student teachers for foreign languages in the public schools. Husband (then fiance) had a good laugh when I came home enraged after that class before helping me actually learn the content.” TGNotatCerner
4. Even Adults Get Consequences For Running On The Pool Deck
“I was a lifeguard at a water park and was authorized to remove and ban customers from my area of coverage if they did not comply with rules. Usually, this amounts to children who horseplay in the water and do not stop after repeated reminders.
One day, however, I was guarding a spot on the lazy river that went around the entire park. A man whose family set up their picnic on the grass near me kept running back and forth behind where I was standing because he was chasing his kids or getting food.
I repeatedly told him to keep his children in line and that he should set the example of not running on the deck, but he angrily told me to ‘let the kids be kids’ and to focus on watching my water instead.
So, I told him that he was banned from using the sidewalk directly behind me. This resulted in him having to make a trip around the entire park every time he wished to pass. The 100 feet trek to the bathroom or food stall was extended to a good three minutes. I felt proud.”
3. Won't Get In The Back Of The Line? I'll Hurt Your Ego
“I made the mistake of going into Michael’s on a Sunday morning. Michaels, for the uninformed, is a superstore for craft supplies and household decorations. I was third in line, and behind me were easily fifteen other people, there was also a second line to my right with an equal amount of people.
The lady at the front of the line purchased over $100 in Halloween items that were all discounted between 50% and 80% off. After her transaction, she steps to the end of the counter to examine her receipt and her items.
The person in front of me finishes with her two-item transaction, and my two-item transaction is about to be up.
The lady with her $100 in merchandise steps in front of me, and tells the cashier that the cashier had rung up an item incorrectly.
The item in question? $1.75 Halloween stickers – before 50% off, this thing had the audacity to cut in front of a long line and demand a refund. The cashier tells her to step to the end of the line, the lady says, ‘I don’t think so.’ The cashier turns and apologizes to me, I respond with, ‘It’s okay, some people are incredulous.’ I stared into her icy blue eyes and glared.
She said, ‘How dare you!’ I retorted, ‘Get in the back of the line.’ I was not aware that the cashier was almost finished with the transaction, the lady stared in disbelief and stared at me, while I stood in my most menacing and evil look possible. She received her refund and left the store as fast as she could.”
2. Claim You Hate Me? I Won't Help You With Your Homework
“I normally help my little 7th-grade sister out with her homework because she is doing the exact same things I did when I was in 7th grade. She’s also really lazy and she’s one of those people who hates reading.
Earlier she had to go give something to the neighbors, but it was almost dark and she was afraid.
I said ‘I’ll go with you!’ and she said, ‘Yes, okay… wait, I hate you. Never mind,’ and put it off until the next day. That really hurt. I try to be a good big sister, but she just is too much of a jerk sometimes.
10 minutes later she wanted help because she was supposed to create a summary for The Outsiders, but put off reading it and had ten chapters left. ‘I thought you hated me?’ I replied. ‘Shut up and help me!’ she said.
‘Better start reading!’ I said while giving her an evil grin. She pushed me against the countertop, punched me, and said ‘DO IT, ABBY.’ And I said no, especially not after that. She went to go and tell our mom. Of course, mommy’s little darling was being hurt by her mean older sister, and only wanted some help. She came back, sticking out her tongue at me. Mom said that she could copy one off of the Internet. Oh well, at least I got to mess with her a little bit.”
1. Refuse To Give Me Attention? I'll Get With Your Best Friend
“In high school, I’d been seeing this guy (We’ll call him S) for nearly a year. He was my best friend and I loved him. Over the summer break, we were able to hang out every day. There wasn’t much to do at my place, so I’d go over to his place.
I didn’t have a car, though, and he didn’t want to drive over to my place and back, so I walked about a mile to his house in the heat of the Texas summer every day, where I would… sit on the couch while he played video games and be ignored.
I found… ways to get his attention, but not for very long at a time, and once the deed was done, he was back to his games.
About halfway through the vacation, his friends discovered that this was happening, and his best friend (we’ll call him M) started coming over to my partner’s house while I was there, and he’d talk to us both and ask if we wanted to go to the park or something.
S was usually too busy leveling up his character in his favorite MMO, but I agreed to go, and he insisted that it was okay and better than me sitting around his house bored.
When I was out with M, we would talk and do things, and he actually paid attention to me.
It made me feel special, whereas sitting on the couch watching S play games all day unless I distracted him for a few minutes… didn’t make me feel so special. One day, after this same thing happened yet again, M and I wound up… let’s say kissing very intensely. The next day, I broke up with S and spent the next month or so trying to go back and forth between them, which I’m afraid just wound up leading them both on.”
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