People Clue Us In On What It's Like To Get Revenge On A Jerk
15. Lay Hands On A Student? Tiny Grandma Will Step In
“…What you have to understand about my ‘Nana’ is she strived to weigh more than 100 pounds all her life, only weighed 102 pounds when she was pregnant with my mom, but she was relatively tall for a lady, so she looked like a rail! People mistook her size, and later her age, as weakness, but what they didn’t realize is that she had grown up on a 98 acre working farm, had worked alongside share-croppers on the next farm over (she swore her daddy worked for the family harder), had 9 brothers and sisters, and could out eat me any day of the week, she was not a wilting flower!
When I was in school my Nana was always the first car in the pick-up line; she never wanted to be late for anything! I was in junior high, probably the middle of 8th grade.
I always had my bookbag ready and rushed out the door when the bell rang because I knew she was waiting. One afternoon, I got to her car and realized that I had left a book in the school, so I turned around and ran back in. When I came out of the side door of the school, I was met by the assistant principal.
He was a big, burly, gruff man and he grabbed my arm (fatal error), so he could fuss at me.
I immediately thought, ‘Oh, crap, you’ve screwed up!’ About the time I finished my thought, I heard her car door slam.
I tried to hurry him up because I knew this was about to get ugly! Then, I see a little bony finger with pink fingernail polish come over his shoulder (tap, tap, tap), and these weren’t the kind of taps you use at church; I’m pretty sure she was going for blood!
He spun around there stood my Nana standing with her arms folded, foot-tapping, and a look that would give Satan chills.
In a fury and missing the obvious clues that were in front of him, he started telling her about my ‘misdeed’ of going back into the building and complaining about her being the first person there and how I should hurry up since she was blocking the pickup lane.
At this point, she put her finger up in his face and said, ‘Shut up, little man!’ He straightened up like he was going to correct her; he didn’t realize that she was just giving him time to pray, ‘YOU put your hands on my grandbaby, her momma, her daddy, her poppy, and me don’t put our hands on her and YOU SURE AS HECK AIN’T… AND another thing, I’ll park where ever and for however long I want to in this school parking lot, and she can go in and out of this building as many times as she wants to, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?????’
This very large man was now trembling and repeating, ‘Yes, ma’am, I do’ in a near-catatonic state.
She looked at me and nodded towards the car. Needless to say, I ran and got in because this was not the first nor the last time I’d seen Nana in action. She got in the car, still mumbling under her breath, ‘Just who the heck does he think he is???’
My Nana was active right up until the end of her 90 years on this earth…”
14. This Is A Drama-Free Gas Station
“I was just 18, and working part-time at a local gas station, a Merit gas, with the little fishbowl in the middle of the pumps.
I was in nursing school, so worked a couple of nights a week.
Now, let me preface this by saying I was not by any means raised to be shy and retiring. My dad was streetwise and made sure we were too. I knew how to defend myself and was not worried about working nights.
One night about 2am this inebriated man comes in, puts two crumpled up ones in the drawer, and says “put 20 on pump 3”.
I yelled that he had only given me $2 but he was too far gone. I made a note of the make and model of his car, and was going to call the police about him as he was absolutely sloshed.
He comes back to the drawer and says “It only took 2$.
Gimme my change.”
I explained that I did not get 20 from him.
He went back to his car and came back with a tire iron, and started to try to smash the windows.
I pushed the alarm, then left the booth with a chain wrench in my hand.
Very useful as a weapon if you know how to use it, and I did. At least, I figured I did.
I went to him as he smashed the windows, and yelled some obscenities…. he turned on me with the tire iron. Just as I caught his hand with the chain wrench, and pulled the tire iron out, 4 motorcycles pulled in.
They were fully patched 1%-ers, members of a well-known motorcycle club not known overall for their sense of patience with morons.
One of the guys walked up to the intoxicated dude and said “what’s your beef?” and he said, “she kept my change!” I said, “He gave me $2, he thought it was 2 tens, it was 2 ones.” Just then the intoxicated man grabbed his tire iron and swung at me, but was so wasted he hit MC-Man 1.
MC-Man proceeded to punch the man even more senseless than he was.
While MC Man 2 peed in his car, MC Man 3 went into the guy’s wallet and took out his driver’s license.
Just then, wasted man gets up, and tries to hit MC Man 1. Next thing I know, the dude is in his birthday suit and upside down in a trash bin; he was wearing only his shoes, which had their laces tied together.
MC-Men are busting a seam laughing.
Just then the Police showed up, and seemed disappointed when I explained it was not the bikers who were the problem, but the upside-down birthday suit man who had attacked me, smashed the windows, etc. The MC Men helpfully gave their version of events, with four-part harmony focused on how they had been as abused and brutalized, being as defenseless as they were, as I was.
The Police dragged off upside down birthday suitman, and MC Man 3 said “I found his wallet, this fell out” and handed the cop his driver’s license.
Just as he was being escorted to the cruiser, he spat on one of the bikes, and was accidentally tripped by the bike’s owner, and landed right on his face. He was filth-fouling his way all the way to the cruiser.
The cop told the guy he would turn him over to the bikers if he didn’t shut the heck up. That seemed to sink in, and he went calmly from there… until the cops said a tow truck was taking the car.
Upside down wasted man yelled “You (expletive).” at me through the open cruiser window (there were bars) but as one of his teeth came flying out when he did, it was actually kind of funny.
After the cop left, I told the bikers they could fill up on me, whatever they needed, oil, gas, cigs, anything. MC Man 1 said “No, trust me, we can pay for our own stuff, and after all the fun you don’t owe us anything….” and they proceeded to use the guy’s own tire iron to smash the glass in his car.
It wound up in court, the guy was sent to jail for a year and ordered to pay for damages.
All 4 MC Men were called as witnesses. They showed up clean-shaven, in nice suits, looking like they had walked out of a Wall Street firm, and spoke about how afraid they were of “that violent man”.
You could just see they enjoyed it.
He complained in court that someone kept breaking his car’s windscreen… the Judge actually said “you better think before who you pick fights with, but I suspect after you’ve paid your debt to society, you might find your windscreen lasts a bit longer. Right gentlemen?” The MC Men just laughed…”
13. Make My Friend Cry? Time To Unleash My Sharp Tongue
“I was a very shy and quiet kid in school. In middle school, there was this group of guys, with one being the so-called leader, who seemed to make it their mission to torment and torture anyone and everyone they could. No one was safe. They made fun of anyone for any reason they could find. They picked on the smart kids for being smart or nerdy, the poor kids for being poor, the goths for being goths, the mentally challenged, those that weren’t physically fit, etc.
In 8th grade, they zeroed in on me, picked on me for being the quiet smart girl, teacher’s pet, and the fact that I wouldn’t use cuss words (I overcame that one though, lol), they called me Miss Goody Two-shoes. At first, I ignored them, my mom told me that if you ignore them and don’t let them get a rise out of you or show any reaction, they’ll just leave you alone, WRONG! Not those jerks, the absence of a reaction just made them try even harder, but I held steadfastly and showed no emotion whatsoever.
Eventually, they would take a break and move on to someone else, but they would always come back to me.
One day in particular started off pretty crappy for me, it was a Friday and it had been a long week. I was tired, I didn’t sleep well the night before, I had a huge headache, and I so did not want to be in school that day.
In my 2nd period class, one of the guys of the bully group, Ryan, who when he was not around the rest was actually a nice guy, asked me if I had any gum, I did and gave him some, to which he was really surprised and said thanks. “Eat them up with kindness,” was also another tidbit of wisdom my mom gave me, and later on would prove to work in my favor.
7th period science class rolls around and I’m just so over the day and ready to go the heck home. The leader of the bully group Brandon and the guy Ryan I gave gum to in 2nd period, sit in front of me, so I knew I had to prepare for the storm of insults and crap they were ready to hurl at me. My friend Wendy who sat beside me and was also not immune from their bullying was there.
They usually made fun of her for being super smart as well as whatever else they could drum up.
The moment they arrive, Brandon instantly starts in with the insults directed at me. I just ignore them as usual. The teacher Mrs. J comes in and tells us to go over our study guides and to finish filling them out if we need to for Monday’s test and that she would be going around if anyone had questions or needed help.
Wendy and I had finished ours and started to compare answers to make sure all was good. Of course, you know Brandon didn’t do crap and expects to bully me or Wendy for the answers, but I wasn’t budging, Wendy however wasn’t as strong as I was when it came to their bullying. She would never give in to give him the answers, but it still wouldn’t end well for her.
Brandon was going at her hard calling her every name he could think of, she was on the verge of tears, and I just kept telling her don’t listen to them, but it wasn’t working and she put her head down to cry and I knew she was done.
Something in me just snapped, I was already in a bad mood, and this jerk really put me over the edge.
My Miss Goody Two-shoes left for the day at that moment and I unleashed my inner badness. I told him, “Listen, you little needle-head mother smudger, I’ve had enough of you’re bullcrap, you freak, leave her alone and leave me alone, or I swear to God and all things holy that the next dang time you or any one of your little freaking butt buddies picks on me or my friend, I will roast your freaking parts, if you even have any, on that big Bunsen burner over there! Got it, you sack of crap!?!?” At this, Wendy lifts her head and looks at me in awe, other kids in the room are staring at me mystified, the popular guy and head quarterback just looks at me and says, “Dang girl, I didn’t know you had that in you, remind me not to make you mad!”
At this moment, Brandon is absolutely mind scrambled and at a loss for words.
He’s trying to think of something to say, but Ryan just tells him, “Dude, just leave her alone.” Brandon asks him why he’s taking up for me and he says, “She’s nice, she’s never done or said anything mean to me, and this morning she gave me gum. Dude, you’re on your own.” So what does this little crap head Brandon do next? He freaking raises his hand to tell on me, to tell the teacher I threatened him.
I thought for sure I was screwed, that I was headed for the principal’s office and possibly detention or suspension. But I remained calm, sat there looking all innocent and quiet like nothing had happened, like I just hadn’t unleashed a tirade that could possibly make a sailor blush.
Mrs. J didn’t particularly like Brandon, no teacher really did. He was rude, disruptive and they knew he bullied people.
So when Mrs. J saw his hand raised, she was already annoyed by him, and curtly asked what he wanted. He replied, “ibeabluedevil just cussed me out, she called me some really bad things I can’t repeat and insulted my manhood, and then she threatened to burn my parts off with a Bunsen burner.”
The whole class busted out laughing, still I sat there calm and stoic.
Mrs. J looked at me and then looked at Brandon then looked at me again and then him and replied, “Brandon, ibeabluedevil is a very sweet, kind, nice girl, and I highly doubt that she said anything remotely near to what you have just described, but if she did, then you must have really done something to deserve it. Now, do not disrupt my class again, or you will go straight to the principal’s office no questions asked, do I make myself clear!?” He pleaded with her and said that if she didn’t believe him that other people heard what I said.
So she asked if anyone had heard anything and everyone within earshot that actually saw and heard it what went down all denied they heard me say any of those things. He even asked Ryan who sat right beside him to back him up and Ryan replied, “Sorry Dude, don’t know what you’re talking about, I was working on my paper.”
After that, he never bothered me again, he still bullied other people, but he steered clear of me, no one really picked on me after that all the way up through high school. From then on I remained the nice quiet girl that no one dared to anger or pick on. Oh, and my aversion to cuss words fizzled out and my vocabulary expanded.”
12. Bully Bus Driver Goes To Court
“This is a time I got a bully bus driver who always picked on my baby brother in trouble and fired from his job.
This bus driver was a mean, cranky, old man who always seemed to have it out for my brother, and I’m not sure why. During the time of this story, my brother was only 8-years-old, and I was 14. Even though me and my two siblings didn’t always get along, I was very protective of them since they were younger than me, and I hated whenever someone would pick on them.
During the time of this story, it was almost time for summer break, and all the students were getting excited and chattering on about what they’ll do for the summer. We had no assigned seating on the bus except my brother for some reason. The bus driver always made him sit right behind him, and no matter how many times my sister or I complained about it, nothing was done.
Now, this driver was always yelling at my brother for stupid things or blaming him for things that were done by other students. It was getting out of hand. What the bus driver did to my brother was the last straw for me, and he crossed the line.
We were all on the bus, early in the morning, heading towards school. (We lived exactly 4 miles away from school.) Another student threw a wad of paper towards the front of the bus, and the bus driver slammed on the brakes, pulled over to the side of the road, and started yelling at my brother calling him every name in the book.
I stood up and walked towards the front of the bus yelling at the bus driver, telling him to leave my brother alone and that he was NOT the one that threw the wad of paper.
The kid that threw the paper stood up and told the bus driver he was the one that threw the paper, but the bus driver yelled at him and me and told us to sit down.
I refused. I was angry, and seeing my baby brother being berated and yelled at and called names ticked me off. My brother was crying his eyes out during all of this. My sister was yelling at the bus driver too, but she didn’t get out of her seat like I did.
This cruel man, he grabbed my Brother, yanked him out of his seat, and pushed him off the bus.
He shut the door and got in the driver’s seat and started the bus up and continued driving towards school.
I was beyond livid. I was screaming at the bus driver to stop the bus and let me off, so I can be with my Brother. I was so angry, I was calling him a senile, old man and other names just to get him to kick me off the bus too, but he just kept driving with a smile on his face and told me I was gonna get in trouble for standing on the bus when we got to the school.
My brother being only 8-years-old, thrown off the Bus, miles away from school and home must of been scared out of his mind, and that fueled my anger more. My sister was crying at this time, and I told her to not worry about it and that I would get this “senile, old idiot” fired, and I would find our brother.
She knew I would do anything in my power to protect him and her.
We had arrived at school, and the bus driver refused to let me off the bus. My sister got off the bus and told me she’s getting the principal, so I waited for her and the principal to come back to the bus. In the meantime, I continued to yell at the bus driver and called him names vowing to get him fired. He just laughed and radioed the bus garage telling them he had an unruly student who wasn’t listening to his commands.
While he was on the radio, I made sure to scream things to alert the garage that he kicked off a little 8-year-old miles away from home and school.
When my sister got back to the bus with the principal and a bunch of other students who were on the bus as witnesses, he demanded to know what was going on. The bus driver told him I was being unruly and calling him names and refused to sit down.
I looked at the principal, still angry, and said, “That senile, old loser kicked my baby brother off the bus away from home and away from school for something he didn’t do! That old jerk shouldn’t be driving buses! I want my parents called right now, and if anything bad has happened to my brother, my dad is gonna kill this old jerk! You better call my parents now, and you better call the police too!” I was fuming.
I was so angry that even I was crying.
The principal looked at the bus driver and said, “Did you really kick off a little child?” The bus driver smugly said, “Yes, I did. He was throwing papers. He’s been an unruly child since the first day of school, and I had enough of that little jerk’s actions.” I started screaming at the bus driver again, and while screaming I managed to get it out that this bus driver has been constantly harassing my baby brother for things he never did all because of his disabilities, and I had had enough! I was demanding my parents to be called and the police, and I was demanding this bus driver to get fired and arrested.
I refused to back down.
The principal told my sister to go to the office and tell office lady to call our parents and to inform her that she’s gonna need to get the manager of the bus garage and the police here. My sister nodded and took off running inside the school. The principal tried to calm me down, but I was so angry; there was no controlling me.
The rest of the students were told to head to their classes. The bus driver was arguing with the principal and me during this whole time. The manager of the bus garage showed up and was told what happened and ordered the bus driver off of the Bus. He looked shocked that nobody was taking his side.
He got out of his seat and exited the bus still arguing that he didn’t do anything wrong.
My parents had shown up by the time he got off the Bus. I exited the bus too and ran up to my parents telling them that Baby Brother was out on the street somewhere, and we needed to go get him. My father instantly got angry, threw the keys at my mom, and told her to “go get our son while I take care of this piece of crap!” My sister got in the car with my mother while I stayed with my father.
He stormed up to the bus driver, grabbed him by his collar, and started yelling at him. Soon afterward, the police arrived, and them seeing my father holding the bus driver up made them think it was my father who was at fault, and they started arresting my dad.
I screamed at them that the bus driver threw my baby brother off the bus, and my father was only protecting his children.
I was so angry that I even kicked one of the officers. The principal and the manager of the bus garage even backed me up which surprised me. The police let my dad go and went up to the driver asking him for his side of the story. Of course, he lied and said I was the one causing problems on the bus and that he did kick off a child but kicked him off at his house which was a complete lie.
He kept trying to paint himself as the victim. But when my mother showed up with my scared, little brother crying his eyes out, they decided to ask him and my sister what happened.
Between sobs, they were able to get out that the bus driver not only kicked off a little child away from home and away from school but that he was also calling that child all kinds of horrible names and got upset because that child’s big sister started defending that child and refused to back down.
The police ended up arresting the bus driver. While he was being arrested, the bus garage manager said loudly, “Bob, you’re fired!” He then looked at my family and apologized to us for what happened. The principal apologized too and said that if he knew all this was happening, he would of put a stop to it a long time ago.
My parents took us kids home.
We didn’t have to go to school that day. We were told by the police that there would be a court hearing we’ll have to attend, and my father said, “Oh, we’ll be there” and herded us in the car.
The next day when the bus showed up, there was a nice lady driving the bus. She heard about what had happened and told my brother he can sit where he wants and told me I was brave and a good big sister.
Rumors were going around school that my father had beat up the bus driver even though he didn’t. Students kept stopping us asking us all what happened, and a lot of bigger kids would walk with my baby brother and tell him to not worry and that they’ll protect him whenever his big sister wasn’t around to do it.
My baby brother had a huge smile on his face knowing bigger kids wanted to protect him.
They told my sister the same thing. These kids were about a year or two older than me and told me I was “baddie” in their words. They would pat me on the back and commend me for protecting my siblings the way I did. My siblings and I had gained some new friends during all this that even my own bullies stopped bullying me after they saw the back-up I and my siblings had.
My family ended up going to court a month later during summer break. The Judge was shocked and angry after she heard everything that happened and lectured the bus driver about how he’s responsible for children on his bus until they get home or to school.
She told him that what he did endangered my brother’s life and that he should have never been allowed to work around children.
She then ordered him to spend 30 days in jail, 2 years of community service, and he had to take anger management classes AND parenting classes. The bus driver tried to argue with her, so she told him that since he wants to argue, he’ll spend 3 months in jail and pay some kind of fine too on top of everything else.
She then apologized to my parents about what happened and told me that I was very brave for standing up to someone older than me and that I was a good big sister.
She called me a hero.
She told me that I should be proud of my actions, and I said, “Ma’am, I was only doing what was right for my siblings. I love them,” and she smiled at me and said, “I can tell.” Court ended, and my Parents took us kids out for ice cream as a celebration. It was a good day. My baby brother hugged me and told me he loved me My sister hugged both of us and said she loved us too even when we argue.”
11. He Might Be Outnumbered, But He Knows Kung Fu
“1979 Two incidents with the same person. I was at a well-known night spot near Farnborough; for anyone not a Brit, it’s close to Aldershot where you’ll find the Paras (parachute regiment).
Background I had just left the Junior Leaders (in the UK you can join the Army at 16) and I was going through what they call man service training. In those days it was still wooden huts and I’d seen this guy walking around camp who wasn’t what you would think most people in the army should be, fit athletic; most people would call him a bit of a porker and as I found out later, he was Scottish so he was called “Jock.”
Back to the night in question.
So I’m 17 (how the bouncers ever let me in I don’t know as I looked like I was 12), I’m behind these guys trying to buy a drink and I spot the fat lad “Jock.” He’s just got a drink and there are these guys standing next to him.
More background: In those days the Paras were a tad out of control at times, a bit more than the usual rivalry you would see between units.
Anyway, I’m watching them because they’re clearly together being stupid and clearly Paras.
One of the Paras pushes “Jock” and then shouts at Jock that he’d spilt his (the Para’s beer). It was the sort of typical bullcrap you used to get in those days. They clearly fancied a fight, spotted a fat lad that they thought would be a suitable target.
So this is where I get interested because Jock doesn’t do what most people do and say sorry they don’t want any trouble etc etc.
He just looks at these guys and says, “No I didn’t.” These guys look stunned — a bit of a WTF moment (this isn’t going to plan) so this guy carries on.
“You calling me a liar?” because he’s escalating the situation now, working himself up.
Jock says, “YES I AM.” I’m starting to laugh now, mainly nervous energy, but I’m thinking there’s a ton of Paras here; they want a fight and this guy is NOT worried at all, so there must be a reason.
So the Para then steps back and does a KungFu kid stance and Jock laughs at him and says, “What the heck is that supposed to be? Tell you what. Why don’t we sort this out outside, me and all of you”
So these guys, their eyes light up (they’re clearly not the brightest around, because they haven’t worked out why one guy is happy to take on five people — and I can only describe it as Jock was happy to do this).
They rush out. He follows and I follow him, I have to watch this.
So they’re waiting. He just meanders out and goes, “OK, who’s first?” and they all go for it.
I then have my very own WTF moment. Really it was bang bang bang, three guys on the floor, two others with roughed up noses. The bouncers are looking worried and I’m still thinking WTF did I just see.
Jock looks down at one of the guys and says something along the lines of, “If you want to play the big man, you’d best be a big man” If you say that with a Scottish Glaswegian accent, you’ll get it.
He then says to the bouncers, “Sorry, guys, I don’t want any trouble,” and goes back to the bar.
I’m still thinking wow.
Four weeks later.
I’m out for a run.
I’m on my way back to camp and in the distance, I can see Jock walking along the road and then stop, and look at this pub.
I’m catching up and there are some guys chucking stuff at him and then one of them throws a punch and yeah you get it more bish bosh and there are guys on the ground.
I’ve caught up now. The pub was a well-known bikers pub and it’s full of bikers, they’ve clearly been drinking and there’s a load of guys trying to get out of the pub to “have at him”.
I’m crossing the road thinking I’ve no idea what I can do, but he’s in my Regiment I’m joining in even if I am screwed.
He looks at me and shouts I’ve got this stay there, he’s smacked a couple of other guys and then reaches into an old Adidas bag he had and brings some nunchucks out of the bag. Now this is 1979 Bruce Lee was still alive and not many people really knew how to use them.
Man he knew, the bikers turn round and lock themselves into the pub and he starts smashing their bikes up and these guys are just watching from the pub.
He smashed a couple more bikes and then just wanders off and I’m thinking I’d best get going, the police will be here soon.
The next day the local paper ran a headline “Kung Fu kid smashed up bike gang’s bikes”
Fast forward, four months, I’ve been posted to Germany and we have a new guy posted to us, I’m thinking, “Great.
I won’t be the new guy anymore,” He’s been allocated a bed in our room (In those days if you were single, you lived in four-man rooms).
Guess what? In walks “Jock.” I’m thinking I need to get to know this person, because the last thing you want to do is share a room with a nutter who knows what he is doing.
All I can say is, he was a top lad but you didn’t want to screw with him.
When I later asked him about the incident at the pub, and why he had nunchucks, he said, “Oh, they just saw some fat lad and started having a go at me.” But he’d just come back from giving a nunchuck demonstration at a local dojo, and he’s a 5th Dan in taekwondo. Remember this is 1979; martial arts just wasn’t that big then.
Those were the days.”
10. Make Me Feel Bad For My Weight? Here's A Sucker Punch To The Mouth
“Growing up, I was always the “fat kid” in my grade. I was always bigger than everyone else, and taller too. I was 6’1 in the sixth grade. However, I was a gentle giant. I never messed with anybody and never bullied anyone because my parents raised me to always be as nice as I could.
But, it never failed. Everyone always picked on me and called me names.
And, if I reacted, I was usually the one punished, cause the teachers automatically assumed the big kid must be bullying the little kids.
Well, fast forward to 7th grade, and I was walking off the football field after practice, and this kid who we’ll call Mark came up behind me and kicked the back of my knee in as hard as he could. I immediately fell to my knees and stomach and laid there for a minute kind of in a daze.
Well, my first thought was to cry. Not because I was hurt so much physically, but because emotionally I hated being treated that way.
However, before a tear could fall, I hear him in a loud voice say, “Ahh, did you trip, fat butt?” I could feel every eye on the field, from my other teammates, to the coaches, to the cheerleaders practicing on the sidelines, all turn towards the sound of his voice.
They were all staring at me wondering what I was going to do.
Suddenly, embarrassment became pure, raw, unadulterated anger. Moving even quicker than I thought possible, I jumped to my feet as fast as I could and turned and swung my helmet up and into his chin and mouth and nose, and hit him as hard as I’ve ever hit anything in my life. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
I had knocked him out.
As the coaches all start to run towards me and screaming at me, two of my teammates and one of the 8th-grade cheerleaders both ran over to intercept them and tell the coaches I was defending myself. They told the coaches how Mark had hit me and knocked me down first.
As our trainer was checking on Mark, he came to. He spit out two teeth One of the coaches rushed him to the ER.
I was suspended for the rest of the football season, and the school threatened to suspend me as well, but my two teammates and the cheerleader defended me to the very end. The cheerleader actually lived in my neighborhood, and we became good friends after that. She drove me to school for a year until I turned 16 and got a car. I still get together with her and her family a few times a year.
Mark never bothered me again, even though he told everybody that it wasn’t a fair fight since I used my helmet. Whenever someone said that to me, I just told them what my grandfather said, which is that no right is ever truly fair.
Nobody bothered me much after that, but I don’t think it was out of fear so much as it was out of an understanding, which was that I wasn’t going to just take it anymore. I’ll be honest, hitting Mark was one of the highlights of my teen life.”
9. Good Luck Getting Into Your Dream High School
“So, this all started in my 8th-grade year. My school was a good one with many of its students going to extremely good high schools. These girls were in my friend group with about 3 other boys. I will call the girls: Angela, Ella, and Emma. Angela’s mom was a very high rank on the school board. I will call the boys Todd, Adam, and Jackson.
Just to make the story clearer, our school was a private school.
Angela, Ella, and Emma weren’t that smart, so they copied off me and my friends during the test. When they got caught, they blamed it on my friends and me. Guess what? My friends and I got in trouble and got over 20 detentions. The girls used Angela’s mom’s rank against me and my friends to let them copy off of us on the test.
My friends and I knew that girl one’s mom couldn’t do crap; however, we let them copy off us because their parents were horrible, and we knew that patience would get us the best revenge.
At this point, we had kicked Angela, Ella, and Emma out of our friend group, but they still cheated off of us.
They then proceeded to bully us and spread rumors about us.
They basically ruined our last year of middle school (our school chain has elementary schools that filter into the middle school), so it was probably my last year with a lot of my friends that I had known for many years.
Here’s the revenge…
We took screenshots of what they said about us on social media. We also recorded what they said about us and to us. Most of it was racist and derogatory.
We bided our time, collecting every mean thing that they had said to us until the end of the year.
Since all of the girl’s parents and siblings had gone to a really good school, all the girls really had to do was pass with low Bs or a high C, and they would get into a good school, (let’s call it School A), and they all got into School A.
My friends got together on the last day of school and put together all of the evidence that we had gathered and emailed the administration people at School A. In the email, we had explained the situation and also had proof of the girls cheating on test and all of their school work. We sent the email and waited. About 2 days later, I get an email back from School A saying that they have reviewed the email and reviewed all of the evidence, and they have decided to rescind Angela, Ella, and Emma’s acceptance into school A.
The cherry on top, well, actually, there’s two… School A forwarded the email to all other schools in our area, so the girls couldn’t get into any of the schools in our area.
The second cherry on top is that we used my real email address to send it, so the girls knew that it was me and my friends who had sent the email.
Angela’s parents called my parents over the phone furious, and my mom let me answer the phone and act like I had no idea about what she was talking about.
I love my mom. Last I heard, they were all attending an online school.”
Another User Comments:
“Something similar happened to me I went to a crap school with crap teachers. I was bullied from the second I came through the door.
So this happened in 2017 and early 2018. I was in year 6. All of the kids in my class were entitled brats, but what made EK stand out was that she bullied me non-stop for a year.
Most days, I went home crying. When I reported her to the teachers, they did nothing to help.
So I was going back to my old school in a couple of weeks. I was tired of EK and the freaking teachers. One day, I was on the playground trying to have fun when guess who came up to me? EK and her parent, EM. The other kids were going inside
EM: WHY ARE YOU BULLYING MY KID?
ME: What? SHE SLAPPED ME.
EM And EK started screaming at me about how I was a disrespectful brat, then well Strict Teacher came and yelled to EM and EK LEAVE ME ALONE. He calls my mom, and the police say my mom was livid and tore EM and EK a new one. When the police arrived, my mom pressed charges, EK got banned from every school in the county, EM was fired and was put behind bars and had to pay a fine and was not allowed to work in a school again.
THAT IS WHAT YOU GET, KAREN.” tftdctdctfctf
8. You Don't Know Who You're Messing With
“This is one of my dad’s many incredible experiences.
Years ago, back in the late 70s, my father was doing business and skiing in Italy. Just before he left, he went to a really good restaurant in Rome. My father, ever the great conversationalist, noticed a very distinguished man at the table next to him.
The two of them started chatting about wine and food…then skiing, philosophy, children, family and the history of Italy.
My father was a great amateur historian and knew all about Italy and spoke a smattering of Italian. Although he was not Italian, he deeply admired the country. He and the old man,—-who was from Sicily and owned a farm there, it seemed, as well as other “interests”—- stayed up fairly late drinking a wine and grappa, laughing and finally singing together.
The one thing about this very well-dressed, little old man, was that the waiters were VERY subservient to him and ignored all the other customers when he snapped his fingers.
It also was clear that there was at least one very large fellow sitting at the bar making sure the old man was looked after.
Anyway, when the meal was finally over, my father pulled out his wallet to pay his end of it and the kindly old man laughed, shook his head, and said, “You can put your bills away. You are my guest, of course.
It has been a magnificent evening!”
My father tried a few times to help pay but the man old man wouldn’t hear of it.
And my father also noticed that no bill came to the table…at all. For either of them.
The waiters seemed to think that it was very amusing that he would offer to pay.
The old man then said this to my father, just before he left.
“I want you to take my card. This is my personal card and I only give it to only a few people whom I really like. Now, you are going back to America and I have friends there. If you are ever in trouble with the wrong people there, or you need help, show them this card. It may be useful.”
My father pulled out his own card in exchange and the man just laughed again, highly amused.
“Now, you listen. I am being very serious,” he said. “Just keep my card. It may come in handy. You never know.”
The old man found his way out of the restaurant, helped along by bowing waiters and his bodyguard. My father put the card in his wallet and promptly forgot about it….
Fast forward to about a year later. Dad was in New York and had arranged a very nice lunch with his business associates at an extremely well-known Italian restaurant in Manhattan.
He came early to make sure things were ready only to find that the restaurant had given his table away to a group of very tough-looking, well-dressed men. My father was furious and asked why the exact table he wanted, which he had carefully reserved, had been given to these other customers. The table the restaurant wanted to give him was near the bathrooms and much too small, and there was no time to rearrange things and go to a new restaurant.
His guests would be there in only a few minutes. The waiters simply said that the men at the table he wanted were regular customers and they were very sorry but there had been a “mix up.” To make matters worse, the table my dad had been given instead was still full and he would have to wait at the bar. My father sat down in a huff, and the server offered him a free glass of champagne.
The server also said, quietly, “Sir, please don’t complain anymore about this. The men at that table are very powerful here in New York. They are very connected men, if you know what I mean. You don’t want any trouble with them, OK?”
Dad got the message, downed the champagne, and then remembered the business card he had in his wallet. He figured now would be as good as any a time to see if this very tenuous connection to Sicily might help.
He showed it to the helpful server and said, “Would it help if I was a friend of this man on the card?”
The server smiled, and glanced at the card, and then snatched it from him. “Where did you get this?” he demanded. My father told him that he travels to Italy often and this was somebody he admired greatly.
The waiter nodded, pale. He took the card to the manager, and the two of them conferred.
Then they brought the card to the table of these menacing men in expensive suits, and it was quietly presented to the leader of the group.
Instantly all the men at that table stood up, sputtering in Italian and Sicilian. The very meek manager pointed over at the bar where my father was sitting, and the men approached him, and asked his name. The top guy made a major show of apologizing profusely, bowing and scraping, and yelling at the manager for making this “monumental screw up” and telling him to clear his table for my father and his friends—-he and his associates would take the little table near the bathrooms, no problem at all.
And if my father were ever to speak again to the man whose name was on the card, they hoped he would not mention this unfortunate event. Oh, and of course the lunch would be on them, and please take a bottle of wine with it. Take two.
All the men hugged my father and one actually kissed his cheek.
My father greatly enjoyed the lunch with his friends.
I wish I could share the name on the card, but this is the Internet and I’m not a made guy…”
Another Users Comments:
“A similar thing happened to me once in Cape Town. I was sent by my boss to have a meeting with two guys at a restaurant. Got there 10 minutes early and my booked table had some tough guys (5 of them), sitting down and being very loud and obnoxious to other patrons.
I spoke to a waiter and he just shrugged and asked what he can do about it? These were local riffs from a gang, and he didn’t want to have trouble come knocking.
So. I’m not one to stumble when placed on the spot… I grabbed a chair. Pulled it over to the table in question and sat down between the silent surprised the tough guys.
‘Hi there, guys.’ I said.
‘This table is booked in about 2 minutes for a meeting. Would you be so kind as to screw off?’
Now, these guys were looking at each other and started laughing. One gets up and grabs my collar, so I kind of did my thing. He let go with a sharp yell.
Now all of them were on their feet while I’m still sitting down. I dig into my top pocket and lay a certain item on the table, and it’s like they walked into a brick wall!
People I worked for never use business cards. The people I worked for used other things as a calling card (not mentioning). One look at this item and the toughs made themselves scarce very quickly.
The waiter comes over and watches as I put the “calling card” away and makes sure that the meeting goes flawless. Turned out to be a waste of time that meeting. But no loss.” Kwelio Largo
7. Try To Force A Relationship With Her? She'll Give You Broken Bones And Stitches
“I saw security camera footage that was at first, horrifying, and then, very entertaining.
I have a friend, female type… and she once dated a guy who ‘was’ a cop at the time she dated him, but he was tossed off the force for violent criminal behavior…
Now, she’d broken off with him before he got into that trouble… and hadn’t seen him in a few years, but knew of his judicial misfortunes, and had already decided even before that, that she really didn’t want anything to do with him.
Well… as it happens… that knucklehead got out of the slammer, and decided to call on her, to try to convince her, that she should start seeing him again. He stood a good 6 foot 3, probably, and easily tipped the scales at 220… She stands 5 foot 6 inches, and MAYBE tips the scales at 130 pounds if she’s soaking wet.
When she declined his generous offer, he communicated his displeasure, and hurt her.
She planted her hands on the deck, looked up at her horrified daughter (I later learned that her daughter witnessed the entire exchange… and she told me that the look on her mother’s face, when she looked up, was one of pure, unadulterated FURY)… and pushed herself up to her feet, and turned on the man.
What ensued, would’ve made Joe Frazier blush… because she commenced punching… and by punching, I mean punching like ole Joe… HARD punches to the body and head of that despicable man, and it was very clear… he wasn’t at ALL prepared for the onslaught.
She backed him up against the wall and continued teeing off on him, and I can honestly say, she staggered him and had him going out on his feet.
His efforts to return fire, were pathetic and missed BADLY, which only angered her even more as she continued the beating.
When the cops pulled up, lights and sirens going, the man somehow scrambled out of the corner she’d backed him into and ran for his LIFE to the cruiser.
A neighbor told me that he heard the guy clearly say, “Get me out of here before she kills me!!!”
His face looked like he’d tried to kiss a speeding truck, and from the report presented at the man’s trial, he had. He was found guilty of several charges related to the incident, and the judge threw the book at him.
Yeah… I’d say he picked the wrong woman to mess with.
Probably doesn’t hurt, that despite being a very feminine and lady-like type woman, my friend holds a 6th degree black belt in Taekwondo, and was a rather talented kickboxer in her younger years. Sweet as can be… would give the shirt off her back to anyone…
I guess you can’t fix stupid… but you can knock the crap out of it.”
Another User Comments:
“I’m not really into fighting on TV or whatever, but I would have paid good moola to have seen that fight. Good for her. Too bad she didn’t see the sucker punch coming. Had she seen it coming, she could have deflected that blow and started hitting him a bit sooner. More women need training like that. After a while, the guys might figure out is isn’t worth finding out the hard way which ones have and which ones haven’t.” Bobby Baucom
6. A Kayak Paddle To The Face And An Embarrassing Yearbook Mention Of A Manipulative "Friend"
“I was friends with a really manipulative girl for a few years at primary school. On the outside, she was funny and charming, but her MO seemed to be nothing other than getting people in trouble or breaking up friendships.
I finally felt foul of her ways in high school when she decided I’d be her next victim. The bullying that followed made me want to end my life.
It didn’t help that my parents divorced around the same time.
She encouraged other girls to walk up to me and call me ugly and make fun of my clothes. School was terrible.
Sometime around the last two years of school, she decided that she had “forgiven” me (for who knows what!) and tried really hard to be my friend. I was really confused but went along with it.
Turned out, she was going through some personal stuff and realized I was probably the only person she knew who would be ok with it. While she was fine with me in person, she’d still try and humiliate me in front of others. It wasn’t a mutual consolidation but went along with it to see how it panned out.
One day, our class took an outing to go kayaking.
We had a ton of fun, and at the end, I was paddling my kayak up to the dock when said girl reached down to pull me in. I lifted my paddle and accidentally hit her the way I’d always dreamed about hitting her right across the face. She was floored, and I felt good. Of course, I apologized but I never meant a word of it.
A few months later, we were compiling our yearbook, and one of the questions we were asked was, “What was your best high school memory?” This witch was first on the register alphabetically, and I was next. My opportunity arose.
She was a very popular girl (hence her minions), and she was overjoyed at being on the first page of the yearbook. I suggested that we should put “reconnecting with each other” would look really good on our pages.
This cow used to make me afraid of being alone as I found the horror of reliving what she did that day so hard to deal with. For instance, she would call my house and swear at me down the line if I answered. One day when the hospital was calling my parents to say my grandad was dying, they couldn’t get through because this witch was blocking our line with abusive calls.
When I stood up to her about it in school, she got most of her “gang” to scream in my face about how ugly I was.
We wrote out our submission for the yearbook together. She wrote, “Realising your friends are right in front of you.” I wrote, “Finding old friends.”
When the yearbook was published, her quote was there. On the next page, mine said, “Smacking XXXXX in the face with a kayak paddle. I couldn’t have paid for that experience! She was right in front of me!” accompanied by the photo of me winking.
Not much, but it made me happy.”
5. Don't Like That I'm Friends With Your Chick? Come Fight The Little Guy
“Buddy didn’t like me cuz I was his girl’s ex, and me and her were still good friends, so he was always saying crap to me, and eventually, he spat a fat loogy on my locker lock.
At that point, I said enough was enough, so I challenged him to a fight. This was in grade 10 and fighting in this school was unheard of so when people heard there was a fight in a school of 2300 kids, you can bet a lot of people showed up, and funnily enough, he was the one who requested to fight in the busiest part of the school.
I just wanted to deal with it outside, but he wouldn’t fight unless it was in the school.
So eventually lunch came around and while I was prepping my lunch in the cafe, he walked up to me and asked me if I’m sure I wanted to do this. I should say this now the kid was a half foot+ taller than me, I was probably the top 5 shortest kids in the grade, but I was a wrestler for 3 years up to that point, so I was short but secretly built like a tank and knew how to fight.
Anyways we were in the “forum,” basically a massive hall in the front of the school where everyone chilled during lunch break, I on one side with about 20-30 people around me and him on the other side with about 40-50. I told my brother who was in grade 12 beforehand just in case some idiot tried to jump in.
At this point, he and his group walked over to mine, dead center of the forum and the 2 groups formed a huge circle.
Seemed like kids were pouring in from every hallway as they were all waiting in anticipation of the fight. There had to be at least 250+ kids from all grades there, so I knew there was no turning back. But I had no intention of turning back as I knew what had to be done, I asked for the fight, I wasn’t backing down.
The night before I went through some mind simulations of what would happen and how I would deal with it, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing that he would just come out with a massive haymaker.
Knowing who he was and judging the situation, I had a hunch he would be overconfident with himself, so he wouldn’t have any sense of a guard.
So the groups formed and I see him, he sees me. I’m just doing a few stretches and he is pulling all his stuff out of his pockets one piece at a time handing his stuff to his girl (my ex).
At that point, I knew for sure he was way too confident and that he would come out swinging.
And sure enough, as he finished giving all his gear to his girl, he started walking at me slow… then his pace quickened as he set up for a pretty obvious right hook. He pulled his arm back to get a good KO, but I very smoothly and quickly ducked his punch and went in for 1 leg, then the second as I pulled the first up, then charged with all my might as I raised his dumb butt high off the ground and slammed him with all my might onto the tile floor.
I quickly made good of the success of my current situation and got on top of him into a full guard position, grabbed his collar with my left, and just started pouring right hooks.
At this point, all I can hear is the people around us going mad in excitement over what had just happened. The adrenaline that was coursing through my veins was so powerful that I barely felt how much damage my hand was going through.
Buddy had no chance of getting out of this mess that was taking place as I was just feeding him punches while ensuring I wouldn’t get countered thanks to my karate/wrestling background.
As the fight was getting a little stale because of how one-sided it had gotten, one of my brother’s good friends pulled me off of him, which happened to be the most satisfying moment of the fight because at that point, the adrenaline had worn down, and I could actually think for a moment and realize that I had won, and all I did as buddy was pulling me off of him was look at his face and grin, the reason that it was so satisfying was that judging by the look on his face, he didn’t even realize he had lost the fight until I backed off slowly from him and could witness the sheer embarrassment and disappointment consume him as he suddenly came to his senses.
And of course just to make things better, the hottest teacher in the school escorted me to the office.
At that moment in my life, I knew that if anyone ever bothered me again, I knew I could handle it, not that anyone ever did after that beating but it wasn’t that I just knew I could fight my enemies to solve my problems, but more so that I knew I could stand up and deal with my problems head-on and have been doing so ever since.
I never once took any crap from anyone in school again from that day on, I had earned the respect from my peers and my enemies. Me and buddy actually became decent friends afterward, and I still see him every now and then and we always have a good laugh about it.
If you are still reading and are wondering if it was worth it, heck yes it was, standing up to that kid was one of the proudest moments of my life and I’d do it again. Never let anyone dictate who you are or how you live, and if you ever have a problem with someone or something, dealing with it sooner than later is always the best way forward.”
4. Workplace Bully Loses Her Job
“I work in the UK for a large technology company doing software support. I’m part of a team that has members all over the world. I’ve been in this job for around 10 years, and other than the major issues I’ve had with this guy, I truly enjoy my job.
When I started with the company, I wouldn’t say that I was “green” – I had about 7 years of industry experience under my belt.
I was definitely inexperienced with the company, but the job that I had been hired to do used technologies that I was more than comfortable with. The point I’m trying to convey here is that I wasn’t completely oblivious to all of the applications supported by our company. Everyone in my team (around 30 of us) was very nice and was very keen to help – except for Shane.
Shane is probably what you’d term as the “team guru” – about 5 years from retirement, part of the office furniture (metaphorically, as we are all home workers) – he’d been with the company for nearly 40 years.
Everyone labeled Shane as “the only guy to go to when you were truly in a bind.”
When I was initially starting out, I did indeed find that Shane was highly knowledgeable and more often than not had the answers to whatever obscure questions you might have.
Things were great, and our team ticked over nicely. I got to know the rest of the team well (over phone) over time too – and my best friend was a woman named Mel. She was of a similar age and experience level to Shane, and in my opinion, was just as knowledgeable as him.
One day, Mel and I were on a brief call chatting about a work issue when we got to shooting the breeze for a while.
We talked about ourselves and also the team. I’d said that I hadn’t met anyone face to face yet, and that was when she told me she’d once met Shane in person a couple of years ago. They are both based in the US (I’m in the UK), and both got invited to a tech conference in New York. She told me that he has serious health issues due to his weight (around 450lbs), and when he was home, he was often on oxygen and medication.
His plan was to ride things out until he was able to take early retirement so that he didn’t need to worry about paying for his medical insurance any more. That sounded like a reasonable enough plan to me, and we were soon talking about something else.
The issues started about 2 years into my tenure with the company. We started moving in a new direction with what applications we were going to be offering to customers, and towards that end, we were trained in a bunch of new stuff.
I saw this as a great opportunity and equalizer – if no one on our team had any experience with this new software, then I would be on equal footing with everyone. This went really well for me, and I put a lot of time and effort into learning as much as possible.
Shane didn’t show much interest in the new stuff – he still continued to spend most of his time with the legacy tools.
In team meetings, you could clearly tell he was getting mad that his status as a guru was gradually becoming more and more meaningless.
This wasn’t anything personal – we work in software, you have to adapt in order to remain competitive.
As time went on, it was becoming clear to the team how much work I was putting in, and I was well on the way to becoming the “go-to guy” for the new software.
During this time, Shane would start sniping at me for anything he could plausibly manage. For example, if I was late to a team meeting because a customer call overran, he’d make sure to interrupt whatever was being said to comment something like, “Oh look, OrdosDeluxe has bothered to grace us with his presence,” even though he’d been guilty of the same in the past. Things like email chains too – almost anything I sent out that included him, and our boss on an email, he would reply with some unrelated complaint or observation – completely irrelevant to what was actually being discussed.
One day, Mel called me and asked me what my beef with Shane was. I (truthfully) told her that I had no beef at all with him, and he just seemed to have it in for me. She said that if she managed to find anything out, she’d let me know. Things continued like this for a couple of years. I continued to be the go-to guy, and he continued to try and discredit me and generally paint me in as bad a light as possible.
One day, we had a major incident – one that literally could have cost the company millions in SLA fines if it was not solved quickly. Our manager split us into teams to troubleshoot specific areas, and she paired me up with Shane.
I wasn’t happy about it, but whatever; I was a professional. We got on a call and started working through the issue. As our call progressed, it was becoming abundantly clear why he didn’t like me – he knew NOTHING about the new application.
He hadn’t done any work on it at all. Everything I asked him to check, he needed handholding – even for the most basic of tasks. Eventually, I just shared my screen and said for him to watch me.
I went into the guts of the system through so many logs (explaining to him what I was doing the whole time) and eventually found the problem was with a recent patch we had installed.
At this point, he dropped from the call – I didn’t think anything of this at the time (we use Skype for business, and it can be flaky), so I just continued what I was doing.
Our process was not to rollback any changes until it had been approved by the senior manager. As I was the one responsible for deploying/rolling back patches, made some notes about what we needed to do, and then rejoined the main call.
I wasn’t worried at all because bad patches happened every so often; they just didn’t usually have this level of impact.
As soon as I did, I got absolutely DESTROYED by the incident manager. Apparently, Shane had returned to the group call and informed everyone present that the outage was caused by an error that I had made in the deployment process and that Shane had told me what the correct fix was, and I had refused to implement it then and there.
I was FURIOUS. He had accurately told them the cause of the problem because it was ME who literally demonstrated to him how to find it. I had even foolishly mentioned to him what I thought would fix the problem.
Because of how long he’d been with the company compared to me, only our immediate team knew the truth about who was really the better-skilled person in this situation.
His historical reputation still carried a lot of weight with people who didn’t work day to day with him. Because this incident was so major, over 100 people were on this call, several of them 2 or 3 levels of management above our team. He made me out to be a reckless, incompetent idiot, and he was believed.
Despite my manager’s protestations, I was disciplined and given a verbal warning.
He meanwhile was congratulated for steering the company away from a potential disaster and given a commendation.
I was so angry, and a while later, Mel gave me a call. Apparently Shane had been bragging to her about “putting that smart aleck punk in his place.” She was shocked and asked him what he was talking about. His real beef was that he thought I had disrespected him by trying to take over his role as “go-to guy” for the new software.
That wasn’t my intention at all – I didn’t see it as my fault that he was too dang lazy to do the work again. I lamented with Mel that she should have recorded the call.
She laughed and said that Skype shows when you’re recording a call, and he’d never have spilled his guts while being recorded.
I immediately had a brain wave.
I decided that I would confront Shane one on one.
I pinged him on Skype and said that I wanted to talk. He responded with a smiley and just said, “Sure.” I called him and let him know that I was recording this call (and the Skype notification popped up to let all participants know that this call was being recorded). I went right for it and accused him of lying about the major incident and said that it seemed like he had major beef with me.
As expected, he lied and said that he was sorry that I felt like I had to react this way.
He said that he would need to talk to our boss about it. I said wait one second and turned off the Skype recorder. I then said that Skype isn’t recording and that he knew exactly what he had done.
His mask slipped at this point, and he said that he was perfectly in his rights to put me in my place.
He said that you need to respect the longer serving people in jobs like this and that he would do it again in a heartbeat. I didn’t hold back – I called him a dinosaur, who refused to move with the times, and wanted to coast out his days here without doing any work. He said that he was a couple of years away from retirement, and he’d be damned if he was going to bust his butt for some shiny, new software.
I said to him, speaking of new software, has he heard of OBS? Of course, he hadn’t, and I suggested he Google it. I then hung up on him.
Not long after, the messages started. He was begging me not to use the secret recording that I had taken. He said that if he gets fired, he will lose his retirement package and his medical benefits. I told him to go screw himself and that he should have considered that before trying to get ME fired.
I passed all of this on to the relevant channels before really giving it any thought. Things set in motion, and sure enough, a few weeks later after a company investigation, he was fired. I heard from Mel that he had asked to take early retirement so as to keep his benefits, but this was apparently rejected.
It all came out later that apparently, he had significant debts and that he was counting on his retirement package to keep him financially afloat.
With no job and no package, he had no cash to pay for the medical treatment which he badly needed. He was in no state to get himself a new job, and his skills had stagnated so badly that he couldn’t even get a new job online. Mel told me that he died about 6 months after this whole incident due to his ongoing health issues.
I felt conflicted about this for a while. Sharing that recording obviously contributed to his death – but I don’t know how bad I feel about it. I am a young guy trying to build my career – and he actively tried to destroy me.
I should maybe have held off when he pleaded for me not to reveal the truth, but he was old enough and wise enough to not engage in the childish games he played.
If I’d known he’d be dead as a result of this, I’d maybe have done things differently. It’s one that stays with me, that’s for sure. I’m still at the company, and I can tell you all that I will NEVER treat a new employee the way he treated me. So, maybe the breaking of that cycle is the positive attribute to come out of all this.”
3. Start Something For No Reason? You're Not So Tough
“I was about 22, on summer break from college and I’m in a neighborhood bar with my friend Greg.
We’re at the bar and we meet a guy named Bull (…apparently not his name…but he looked like a bull). We meet the guy, he seemed like a nice person so the three of us are hanging out having a few drinks.
Bull is dressed way too nice for this bar and another patron – wasted– stumbles into him, apparently by accident, spilling beer on Bull’s clothes.
Bull is polite about it, the patron…is not.
Bull says, ‘Hey man, watch where you’re going, OK? Be careful next time!’
The patron, ‘Screw you! Get outta my way or I’ll drop your butt.’
Greg’s and my eyes light up.
Bull, ‘Dude, why you got to be like that, you bumped into me. I’m not trying to start any crap.’
Patron, ‘OH…you’re not going to start anything…I’M GOING TO START IT…’
The patron reaches under his jacket and attempts to pull a weapon from his belt.
I say attempt because before he can put his hand under his jacket, Bull drops him with a left hook to the temple.
This is a place where what has gone on so far is not uncommon and if security has to step in, it’s at the end of a sawed-off, pump action shotgun. This patron is out like a light so security isn’t involved – yet.
Bull reaches down, takes the weapon out of the guy’s belt, unloads the chamber, takes the clip out, puts it on the bar unloaded and we continue to drink, the server (…lady server) comes around with a pitcher of ice water and pours it on this guy to wake him.
He staggers to his feet.
Bull says, ‘Look man, I don’t want any problems…OK. Let’s just forget the whole thing and I’ll buy you a drink.
Here’s your piece, no bullets of course. I’m not stupid. How about it…OK?’
Well…this patron wasn’t having any of it. He grabs his weapon and responds, ‘You’re a dead man. You don’t know who you’re messing with or what you just did. You’re freaking dead where you stand. Don’t you go anywhere, I’ll be right back!’
NOW, security gets involved.
‘I’ll have that piece please…’ Security says please.
The patron gives up the weapon.
Security says, ‘Look man, I know you. Go home, don’t come back…let it go.’
The patron turns back around to Bull, ‘You see that car (..this guy drives a freaking gremlin of all things) when I come back, step outside and we’ll settle this.’
This guy leaves…
Greg and I come to find out Bull just got released from jail and has a fairly extensive amount of experience dealing with people who are armed, as is evidenced by the incident.
This was his first night out and he didn’t want any trouble, but sometimes trouble finds a man before a man can find trouble.
‘What do you want to do?’ I ask Bull.
‘Have another drink.’
‘No…I mean what do you want US to do…man?’
‘I’m good…I don’t know this guy but what am I supposed to do…run?’
Greg says, ‘Look…we’ll go outside. When he comes back we’ll let you know so you can at least be ready.
It’s apparent he’s not coming inside.’
Bull says, ‘OK.’
A half hour goes by and the guy shows up…in his gremlin. He has another piece, he’s got it hanging out the window. He’s honking his horn for Bull to come out.
Greg and I go inside and tell Bull. We ask does he need us to go out with him. Bull says no, but he gives Greg a phone number on a slip of paper, asks Greg to call the number and give this address to whoever answers telling them he’s got a problem.
Greg goes to the phone. Bull leaves.
I’m looking out the window. The patron parks his gremlin, Bull has his hands up, The patron has the piece pointed directly in Bull ’s face inches away. I hear words exchanged but since I’m inside I can’t hear what’s being said. By this time the whole bar, except for Greg, is looking outside.
Bull continues to have his hands raised, words continue to be exchanged…and then…
…Bull drops him again…
…I’m dying from laughter, everyone in the bar is dying from laughter, this guy is out cold…again…this time in the parking lot.
Bull collects the weapon…again, unloads the chamber, takes out the clip and throws it on the other side of the parking lot.
Someone asks the server if she’s going to go out and wake him up again, she says, ‘HECK NO! Leave him!’ …more laughter. She walks away shaking her head and by this time the bar is rolling.
Greg comes back.
‘What’d I miss…’
I point to what he missed.
He’s laughing. We walk out to Bull,
‘Did you call that number?’
They said they’d be here soon. In fact, they should be here any minute.’
I say, ‘Dude, not that it matters, but do you need us to do anything?’
‘Naw it’s good…’
This guy wakes up…again. He hasn’t had enough. He’s screaming, cursing and crying. He holds his jaw and goes back to his gremlin. He going to go get his friends, he’ll be right back.
Bull says he thought so, he’s called his friends and Bull says he might just want to go home.
This guy doesn’t know when to quit. He’s in his car and on his way.
Two minutes later. A white Cadillac followed by three black sedans pull up. If you’ve ever seen the original Superfly movie from the seventies, I am here to tell you Superfly showed up with his crew.
The exact car, the white suit (no hat or coat, it’s summertime), the hair, the girl dressed in a white gown – EVERYTHING – followed by three black sedans with tinted windows.
Bull walks over, shakes hands and gives ‘Superfly’ a hug, he brings ‘Superfly’ over to Greg and I and introduces us.
The guy starts to say his name, I interrupt, ‘I know you…you’re Superfly.’
The man says, ‘Well, not really.’
I say, ‘Hey, that’s all I need to know.
I’ll call you what you want me to call you. But does it matter?’
The guy says, ‘Naw, not really. We’re good.’
I say, ‘Cool.’
He says, ‘Thanks for watching my boy Bull…I appreciate it. Here…’ he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills…
‘No need…,’ I say…’If I ever need a hand I’ll just ask for you..that’s OK?’
‘Anywhere on the south side, we owe you one.’
‘I’ll try not to have to call you on it.’
Greg refuses the payment as well.
We go into the bar and Superfly buys us a drink, the sedans wait for this guy to come back. I leave shortly after the drink with the uncanny feeling this guy isn’t coming back.”
2. Don't Mess With His Girl
“Back in 2011, I was in China. On this particular night, I was having drinks at a club. This was more of a high-end private setting.
I was with a couple of guys, talking business, closing some deals. Most of the clientele there that night was locals; rich business kids, business ‘wall street’ type, government officials, etc.
Place was pretty packed, there was only one other group of 4 or 5 foreigners (to China); either investors or buyers from the US that was seated along with one of the bars (behind me), whereas we were at one of the raised tables like 10 feet away.
As the night went on, they were drinking heavily. They were definitely wanting to get hammered. As for myself, and most other people, it’s mostly casual drinking there. I had a couple of beers and maybe a mixed drink while I was sorting through business proposals and contracts, and trying to make heads or tales of the Chinese letters that couldn’t be read back then.
The group of Americans, were there before I got there, I wasn’t paying attention or really watching them, but I’d estimate they were downing beers, shots, mixed drinks, the works for a long time.
It got to the point where they were talking loud (even for Chinese standards, and Chinese people naturally are loud). But they started getting very inebriated. Cussing in English, talking about American differences to China, they were talking crap about China, Chinese culture, and Chinese people.
Now, in Chinese culture, even the ones who understood English, which most people there that night probably did too, they don’t pay attention or ‘care’ about what the guy is saying, it’s none of their business.
They don’t typically get involved.
Of that American group, there was this one guy that stood out above the rest. He was completely racist, and a pig. Every Asian woman in that bar, was a complete turn on to him. Even his buddies in his group were trying to get him to settle down and stop being ‘too much.’ Other people weren’t paying them any attention other than the server getting paid for drinks.
That one guy, was a pretty big dude. Not big as in overweight, but just tall, broad shoulders, muscle, that T/Triangle shape. Now I’m within earshot of their group, so some of the things they were talking about, especially that guy, I could hear. And some of it was over the top even for me.
It got to a point the guy started being handsy with some of the girls passing by him.
He would turn around, spew stuff in English (flirty comments, wanting to pay for stuff, etc) and brush up or try to fondle a woman passing by him. This wasn’t the type of establishment for that, this was more high end, high class… it was completely inappropriate.
His group were kind of trying to get him to stop by making him face the bar. But he kept doing it.
Some girls would comment in Chinese to him, not to touch them. Even the server said in English to the guy not to touch customers. But the guy wasn’t stopping.
Well, he made a mistake. (To be honest, any girl he touched was a mistake.) But a particular woman he tried to touch was a really big mistake for him. The lady went over to her table, in the VIP section in the corner and told the table what happened.
I first should mention that in China, Chinese do not like when foreigners get intoxicated and cause issues to local people. Many foreigners (to China) get beat up, stabbed, killed etc, because of this, especially in student bars.
When a gentleman from that VIP table stood up, everyone in the bar stopped talking. It was instantaneous. Everyone turned to look because in the back of their minds, they knew what the foreigner guy was doing.
I remember muttering under my breath “oh crap.” Like something was about to go down. My party at my table said we should leave, but I wanted to see it, this was sort of all new to me. My younger self was curious as heck to see what would happen.
I knew the Chinese guy that stood up. I’ve never seen him before, or met him myself.
But I knew of him, and his reputation, I recognized the area of the VIP section, the tattoos he had, and the ring he was wearing. His Guanxi (his social status) in that area of China was well known. I don’t think a single person who lived there didn’t ‘know of’ that guy or the guys network. It took me a couple seconds to realize who it was.
People started leaving, customers. Girls were grabbing their purses and just making for the door. No way these foreigners knew of this guy. They weren’t in the area long enough, they probably didn’t even know what Guanxi was.
So the Chinese guy has stood up, and he reaches into his back waistband/belt and takes out weapon from it, and he hands it to one of his friends who then conceals it on himself.
For those of you who may not know, firearms are completely banned in China except for Police, Army, and certain Government officials. The only other people who can even get their hands on guns are organized higher end crime organizations/families (think triad). It’s 1000x harder to get a gun in China than it is in Canada or the USA. Penalties are 1000x more severe if caught.
The Chinese guy walks over right up beside the foreigner group behind me and asks them in (pretty perfect) English, with a Chinese-Asian accent “Who is touching my girls?” He’s right up in their personal space.
The American on the end, closest to the VIP tables was the guy causing the issues, who happened to be right up beside the Chinese guy said for the Chinese guy to “Fudge off.” And the American gave him a shove.
Big mistake. And I mean, the biggest mistake he’ll ever make in China.
The Chinese guy grabs the stool from under him, and the big guy falls back hitting his head on the floor. The guy on the ground is screaming, wailing loudly and protecting his face with his arms.
His friends/party at this point are on their feet watching (probably in shock). I’m standing up too. There are tables knocked down, chairs knocked down, drinks spilled everywhere.
The American group made the decision to go help out their buddy. They didn’t even make it two feet towards the completely one sided fight and the bartender girl goes “No, no, no, no, no”, like saying no as many times as she could in a short amount of time and she grabs one of the other guys arm to stop him from interfering, which stopped everyone from going to help.
I was standing right beside them and I said to the rest as well “I wouldn’t mess with that if I were you guys, just watch and learn.” Even the building security didn’t interfere, they knew better.
The incident didn’t last very long. I’m sure to the guy on the floor, it felt like an eternity. But in reality it was less than a minute. The guy on the floor was crying like a baby.
Honestly I was more worried about the nice suit the guy had on. May that suit rest in peace, it didn’t deserve it. The guy was still alive, and deserved it. Probably had a ton of broken bones, especially his arm. That guy definitely picked a fight with the wrong person.
The Chinese guy went to the washroom to wash his hands after. Then he eventually sat back down in the VIP section.
One of the building managers came over to the American group and starting saying “Pay, pay, pay.” “Give cash.” “You damage place, you give cash fix.” Which they did, quite a bit too. Probably was their play cash for the rest of the night.
They helped their friend to his feet and security pushed them out. The guy was lucky, obviously he caught the Chinese guy on a good day.
Waitresses started cleaning up and mopping the floor and picking up chairs and straightening tables up.
It was quite an experience to have witnessed that myself. The Chinese guy never actually said “You just picked a fight with the wrong person.” But the smirk on his face when the American pushed him… definitely said it for him. Sometimes you know exactly what a person is thinking by their face expression.
And that is exactly what he was thinking.
Police were never called, they would have arrested only the American foreigner anyways. I checked the local social media the following couple days, it never made the news. I doubt any taxi would take them to the hospital, because of the mess he was in. And they had no moolah left. So I assume to this day that they walked to the nearest hospital which would have been like 30 minute walk away. I didn’t go outside for at least another hour so I’m not sure whatever happened to those guys. Never saw them again in China.”
1. Teacher Won't Do Much About Him Bullying Me, So I Fend For Myself
“From 4th grade up until high school started, I was kind of a brat. (If I’m being honest, I was probably a brat then too, but it’s not relevant here). I had skipped a grade previously and, while I’m not really that smart, in elementary school I was usually one of the first to finish my work or understand what concept the teacher was talking about in class.
I would quickly get bored waiting for everyone else to get done, and I made my position rather clear through loud, obnoxious sighs or similarly rude gestures. I either wasn’t told about this or it didn’t sink in enough for me to stop until 8th grade, hence calling myself a brat.
Anyways, most students kind of shrugged it off and just ignored me. I was the weird kid who was a year younger than everyone, so they just left me alone entirely.
All but one of them. There was this kid, Trent, who was already a bully to most of the kids in our class, but he took a special liking to picking on me. It could have been because I was younger and smaller, but now I attribute it to the fact that he didn’t like my impatience, especially since he was one of the slowest kids in class (not saying he was dumb, just that he took longer than most on homework and stuff).
For most of the year, he limited his bullying to words: taunting, insulting, making fun of me. But then one day, Trent decided to get physical, and not in the good way-if there is one. It was the last day of 4th grade, and the teachers basically gave us free rein to do whatever. A lot of us wanted to go outside and run around or play football (there was a grass field right beside the school).
So we’re playing touch football, and of course Trent and I are on different teams, but this isn’t going the direction you might have thought.
On one of the plays, it essentially becomes a Hail Mary, with my team’s quarterback launching the ball downfield. Pretty much everyone ran in that direction, but I had run a short route and apparently decided to just walk that way. All of a sudden, I get hit hard in the middle of the back and taken down with someone landing on top of me.
It’s Trent, and he proceeds to just start throwing haymakers at me. I had my arms up protecting my face, but he got a couple of shots on my body and I stayed down for a while after he grew tired and got up. Eventually a teacher came up and asked what was wrong, and I told her what had happened. She pulled the two of us inside and proceeded to have a chat.
She confronted Trent and he admitted it. Then, she looked at the two of us and said that because it was the last day of school, there wasn’t really anything she could do, so she wanted us to apologize to each other and forget about it. I was pretty mad because that was a cheap shot and I didn’t get any hits in. I asked her again if Trent was going to get in trouble and she said “he is in trouble, he has to apologize.”
That wasn’t enough for me and I wanted revenge, so I went after him.
I was in karate, but I didn’t know squat about fighting except for one type of kick, which was some sort of side-step sidekick that pushed the other person back. I kicked the heck out of him and he went back into a wall, then I started wildly flailing my arms, connecting on about every third swing. After about 5 seconds the teacher pulled me off and started lecturing me and threatening to suspend or expel me.
I repeated her own words and said since it’s the last day of school, there’s nothing she could do.
Somehow, I got out of that with just a lecture and a note home to my parents. The kick hurt Trent, but not enough to require any attention. We had class together the next few years, and while I wish I could say we became friends happily ever after or even that he left me alone, the next year he was right back to picking on me. But, he never laid a finger on me again.”