People Describe Their Wide-Eyed Revenge Stories

Not everyone is a fan of getting revenge. Some people just want to shrug the offense off and move on, but a lot of people will also agree that moving on is so much easier when you know your enemies got what they deserve. Moving on is not easy, especially when you know that your offender sleeps soundly at night while you're still haunted by the shame and hurt. Here are some of the wondrous ways people got their justified revenge.

17. Flash Your Lights At Me? Smile At The Camera


“It was late on a Friday night and I was driving over to my Dad’s place, which was a good 90-minute drive, even late-ish in the evening. I was taking it easy because I’d just driven a company car from Shepherd’s Bush to Oxford, and then had another long drive out there. Anyway, I’m on the A420 (standard specification for piping fittings of wrought carbon steel and alloy steel for low-temperature service), making it easy, say 10 MPH under the limit, when a kid in an XR3i (sporty Ford Escort hatchback) comes blazing up behind me.

I knew the road, so I knew where there were safe overtake places, and I knew there wasn’t any for a while. So I just kept on rolling slowly, nice and wide, basically meaning there wasn’t enough space to overtake safely. And there was occasional oncoming traffic, so he couldn’t go around. And we carried on like this for a fair while. The kid behind me gets more and more annoyed with this old guy in his old car (I wasn’t, it wasn’t), and begins flashing his lights at me, bibbing his horn, and so on.

Nothing fazes me, I’m having an easy time of it.

Eventually, he just sticks his main beams and driving lights on behind me, filling up my mirrors with light, and making it harder to see, so I slow down, like a responsible driver. I’m pretty sure he had his window down at this point shaking his fist at me.

Eventually I ‘realize’ he’s behind me, and at the first convenient overtake spot, I pull over to the left and flash a left indicator.

He goes barnstorming past me on full throttle, finger in the air and all sorts.

The speed camera that I knew about, but he clearly didn’t, thus got two beautiful pictures of his car, accelerating hard, well over the 50 limits, and him with his finger up. I trundle past the camera a few seconds later, quite safe as I’m still well under the speed limit, and continue, happily smiling.

Speeding is normally 3 points, but I don’t know if he’d have got extra, because he was clearly accelerating and only had one hand on the wheel. I’ll never know, but by heck was it amusing at the time.”

7 points (7 vote(s))

16. Ongoing Pettiness Over Misspelled Name


“I have a dog, his name is ‘Oscar’, and he’s been around for over 5 years. I’ve written emails, social media posts, messages, texts, in reference to him, but to this day, one of my relatives has insisted on misspelling his name (both privately and publicly). They spell it incorrectly in emails, on social media, and even on Christmas cards.

I’ve never brought it up directly for a few reasons:

1: It doesn’t change the pronunciation of the name; think ‘Oskar’ instead of ‘Oscar’.

2: As frustrating as it is, it’s such a silly thing to make a big deal out of. I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it but they might.

3: I’ve tried replying to those comments by repeating the correct spelling, ‘(…) Oscar does like XYZ,’ hoping to emphasize that they didn’t spell his name correctly without publicly shaming them for it, but it appears to be ignored.

4: The first few times, I thought it was an honest mistake, but now it’s been several years and I feel like I’ve waited too long to say anything!

A year ago, said relative was blessed with a grandbaby whose name has an unusual spelling. Their name is ‘Alyx’. Being the petty jerk that I am, I have spent the last year spelling it ‘Alex’ whenever I’m talking to that specific relative.

I’ll spell it properly when talking to the other relatives (including baby’s mum). Part of me was hoping that they would make the connection between mine and their blunder, but it’s been a year and nothing’s changed.”

Another User Comments:

“I have a name that can be spelled a couple of ways. I had a colleague who always spelled it incorrectly, despite the fact that via many emails (address, signature, others referring to me), she would know the correct version.

Her name was Denise, and I always spelled it correctly. One day after yet another incorrect salutation, I replied with ‘Hi Dinyce’ and she never misspelled my name again!” iatlo7762

4 points (6 vote(s))

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ang 2 years ago
Names matter. I'd be calling that grandbaby "Alix", "Alex", and so on until they get your dog's name right. Maybe find ways to misspell their names too.
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15. Expel My Son? Get Your Car Burned


“This happened to my dad in the 80s in Communist Bulgaria when the government had issues with the Turkish and changed their names, didn’t let them in the ruling party, didn’t let them guard the borders, and didn’t let them talk Turkish.

There is also that teacher who hated my dad for being Turkish. Often tried to get my dad in trouble (often failed). That teacher also lived far away from that school and the bus didn’t go there so he really needed his car.

He was stupid enough to tell the class where he lived (important later).

A lot of my dad’s classmates hated that teacher so they gathered to break his lights with a slingshot. My dad was going home and went past them. The teacher saw them and they ran away except my dad who was FAR AWAY from them already going home. On the next day, my dad was expelled for that.

My granddad was angry. He had loads of Rakija and came up with a plan.

He went to the teacher’s house and saw damn fingerprints on the car. Without even trying to blame the other kids the teacher straight away blamed my dad. My granddad in a fit of anger made Molotov and burned his car down.

The teacher didn’t show up in the school again since his car burned and lost his career.

The only thing I heard from my dad is that the teacher was working as a trash collector.

My granddad even threatened the other teachers’ cars to be burned down if they didn’t take my dad back for false accusations.

They took him back.

My granddad was a feared person in that neighborhood.”

4 points (4 vote(s))

14. Shot Up House Is The Price For Screwing With Retirement


“Many years ago in rural Appalachia and coal country lived a cluster of families on a holler. Jim and Betty owned a mobile home and had their daughter Kirsten (me) with them. This mobile home was two bedrooms and one bathroom, but it was sufficient enough for shelter.

During the middle 1980s, a recession hit Appalachia hard, and Jim found work in another part of the country.

In moving, he approached Larry and Tilda (Betty’s sister) to look after the mobile home and collect rent for anyone that wanted to lease the mobile home. A rent amount was agreed to and would be adjusted for inflation and the cost of living for the area. The was to be deposited into a savings account except for the needed necessary repairs and receipts kept. Jim and Betty trusted their siblings with this and moved, trusting that this would be part of their retirement fund.

I was privy to these conversations but did not pay that much attention to them at the time.

Shortly after leaving Appalachia, a renter was found, and Jim and Betty were glad to know that something was coming about from the land in their home area. Then Larry and Tilda’s son Mike moved into the mobile home, and Jim stipulated that the rental agreement did not change even with his nephew renting the mobile home.

After Mike moved out, his sister Sunny moved in and stayed for several years. Betty asked Tilda several times about the rent, knowing Sunny was very unreliable with rent in the past, and was assured that between Section 8 and Food Stamps that the rent was being paid on time, and there were no issues. A few repairs had been done, but the receipts were stored in the safe deposit box where the savings account was.

Fast forward a few more years, Sunny finally moves out, and there are a few more renters, and then the taxes are not getting paid. The mobile home will not pass for Section 8 any longer. As we (Jim, Betty, and I) have been told repairs had been made over the years, we find this odd and inquire again to Tilda, who states this was all a misunderstanding.

Once again, Betty trusts her sister and is relieved when we get the tax receipt in the mail; this is very important later.

Another few years pass, and Tilda dies. Jim and Betty attend the funereal, and Betty makes a gesture to assist with some of the expenses. Larry agrees, and Betty requests access to the savings account that should have at least 10’s of thousands of dollars by this point, not including interest to only find out it has never existed.

All of the paperwork has been fraudulent and/or forged.

Remember that tax receipt? Another forgery.

Betty refused to fight; she had just lost her sister. Still, Jim is livid, as am I. Sunny was always abusive to me and to find out she had been living off my parents for free while receiving Section 8 for rent and getting food stamps sent me over the edge on top of the missing retirement funds.

So knowing everything was fraudulent from the beginning, Jim and I attempted legal means first to get revenge on this thief. We were met with walls of red tape and with states separating us, it was an uphill battle with a slim chance of winning. Plus, the attorney fees would drain any winnings and then more.

First, I put my piece into action; against Sunny, I filed claims of fraud against Section 8 anonymously and SNAP benefits given that there was absolutely no proof of rent being paid to the homeowner or the custodian.

Larry was stupid enough not to write out a fraudulent receipt for when his daughter lived there.

Next, I filed against Larry for tax evasion and social security fraud since Sunny was claiming to be paying him the rent via Section 8; this was income. Since he was not claiming this income on his tax forms, he was double-dipping into the social security system and avoiding paying taxes.

I did the same for the time Mike was paying rent, although he did not claim government benefits, he just paid rent.

The next stage was to notify their local church about the shady dealings with the family. Their faith is big on lay ministers and credibility. I told anyone and everyone I could from the church directory about what had happened. I even showed the fake tax receipt.

The last bit was the most nefarious. After ensuring that Larry was visiting Sunny and the house he owned was empty. A rented car was used, and while Betty drove Jim used a 22 rifle to shoot holes in the roof, the AC compressor, the garage doors, and anything that was laying in the yard and not immediately noticeable. We wanted the burn to last so no windows were shot out or anything evident from the start showing.

Sunny is now being investigated for multiple charges of fraud. Her side business has been closed due to the sweeping allegations that will not be allocated as intended. Her applications for Small Business Loans and health funds have been denied. Criminal charges are being whispered but I do not think anything will come about with that portion.

Larry has been found guilty of overpayment by the Social Security Administration and no longer receives benefits.

He now lives with Sunny and no longer has his truck, camper, boat, or ATVs. Unfortunately, once again, criminal charges are not pending.

Larry Jr has moved into the old home that was shot up. The roof had several places where hail or other debris punched through and made it leak. The siding had similar damage. They finally figured out what it was, pierced some of the old PVC/plastic plumbing. He has spent a fortune fixing the roof, plumbing, and siding where a LOT of little holes were. I do not know if he has tried the AC yet, and I will be delighted to find out if it malfunctions as severely as I hope.”

3 points (7 vote(s))

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catman61 2 years ago
Unfortunately this tale is an obvious fabrication with several red flags. The most obvious is the "social security" fraud in regards non reporting of rental income. Income from rental property is what is defined as passive income and as such is NOT subject to FICA (social security) & Medicare
FURTHER Since it was actually Jim & Betty's property, it was Jim & Betty's income that should have been declared on Schedule E of Jim & Betty's 1040 every YEAR, not to mention the interest income from the savings account reported by the bank to Jim & Betty each year on a 1099-INT.
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13. The Karen With The Left-Handed Bag


“I was working at a Tim Horton’s in my youth (think 19-20 years old) and I prided myself on polite and courteous service. I was always cheerful and tried my best to fill orders promptly. I managed this by telling myself that even the worst customer could just be a normal person on the most terrible day of their life. I usually brightened people’s days and saw many grumpy people leave happier because of me.

Until The Karen came in.

I was dealing with a lunch rush, which means for several hours people stream in as if food and drink had never existed, and will never exist again. So there were a LOT of people to get through. A LOT. So under these conditions, Karen showed herself. She was belligerent, rude, and had a truly MASSIVE order to fill. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

However, she had several drinks ordered (think 8 different beverages), and she had 3 dozen donuts. This is fine (nothing out of the ordinary) but, she had to have them SPECIFICALLY in a certain order in the boxes and, this took time as she ordered me about. No problem, I’ve dealt with weirder things while working there. The line however was backing up while I was serving her, and her true colors were starting to show as I filled her order.

Then we get to check out. I start to ring her up. She changes her order (third time) again and wants to add 4 sandwiches. I say ‘Ma’am, could we ring the drink and donuts through first? Until I ring you through completely it ties up a register.’ The Karen screeches ‘I WON’T PAY MORE TAXES ON MY ORDER! YOU WON’T FOOL ME!!’ I stare rather dumbfounded at this logic.

I tried to argue with her saying, ‘Ma’am this won’t increase your taxes it’s just faster…’ Karen interrupts ‘No I WON’T BE FOOLED YOU HEAR ME!?’ and I shoot a deeply apologetic glance at my coworkers who are now, regretfully, dealing with a crowd with one less register. Then proceed to head to the deli to make her sandwiches, as fast as I physically can, so I can get back to the counter.

Karen smugly chides and reproaches me while I make her order telling me, ‘You’re making the sandwich wrong!’ and tries several times to order me about as if I were a complete idiot. As I’m finishing my second sandwich for this woman I am getting irritated with her attitude. I (still politely) inform her that I have to assemble the sandwiches in a certain order. I even have a physical chart to follow.

I could get fired for not following the chart. She harumphs at me while muttering under her breath about how ‘No one respects their elders anymore’ and ‘screw you’ and more angrily ‘witch’ when I am beginning the fourth sandwich. My sunny disposition was leaving me at this point. This woman obviously had no respect for me, thinks I am incompetent, and doesn’t care if she insults me.

So impulsively I came up with a plan as I finished up the fourth and final sandwich.

Smacking my head I say ‘Oh! I almost forgot!’ The Karen grumbles ‘Forgot what?’ I say, ‘Well, we have a new promotional offer and I almost forgot to ask you about it! You see Tim Horton’s has been doing ergonomic studies and, has found that right-handed people and left-handed people hold bags differently.’ The Karen look interested, so I continue ‘So with these findings, they designed ergonomic bags for their customers as a promotional offer.

Would you like to participate?’ The Karen huffed at me ‘Of course I want to participate!’ I give my best customer service smile and say, ‘Ok, would you like a lefthanded bag or a righthanded bag?’ The Karen looks offended ‘A righthanded one of course!’ I say, ‘of course ma’am!’ and duck down below the counter to quietly rummage through the COMPLETELY IDENTICAL bags I have.

I decide to take the whole thing a step further and I pop back up with a look of pure regret on my face ‘I’m so sorry Ma’am, we only have lefthanded bags left. Is that ok?’ Karen is upset with this turn of events but does not wish to lose out on the promotion. ‘Ugh… FINE,’ she says icily and grabs her order. I ring her through and watch her walk out the door with complete satisfaction in my soul.

The added cherry? I heard her complaining about her ‘lefthanded’ bag to her friend as she walked out with her order and the confused look on the friend’s face was priceless as this woman ranted and moaned about this completely made-up problem.

I have never done anything like this before or since. She was a special kind of a jerk. The Karen with the lefthanded bag.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

12. We Prank Called My Former Boss


“Years ago I was fired from a job as a barista. (I asked a friend who happened to be there as a customer if she wanted to hang out later, and apparently, a customer complained that I made them uncomfortable because they thought I was hitting on a customer.) I was pretty upset about it at the time and was complaining about it to my then almost-not-quite-official-yet-significant-other during a party she was throwing.

She gathered up her friends, extracted the boss’s phone number from me, and everyone (except me so she wouldn’t know it was my fault) started taking turns prank calling her. It was the middle of the night, and by the time we were done, the boss was literally shrieking at people. I feel a bit bad about it now, but it was very satisfying at the time.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

11. Frame And Fire Me? Get Deported


“I used to work at an upscale restaurant owned by a large corporate entity that owns several different restaurant brands. I worked there for about 3 1/2 years before they eventually fired me, but more about that later. First, I want to give an idea of my role there.

My role at that job was a little of everything. Since the day I started working there, I took it upon myself to learn as much as possible.

I was very persistent with management when I wanted to learn a new department. I had started as a server, but eventually had worked my way into different departments and job titles, like carry-out, hosting, bartending, bar backing, banquets, catering, and deliveries.

My singular goal while working there was to make myself available for as many hours as possible. I was being paid about $12 an hour, though that fluctuated if I was working as a bartender or server and making tips.

Eventually, it was noticed by management how I fit best into one of the non-tipped positions. I was so good at it that they decided to try me out as an unofficial supervisor over the team that worked in carry-out, catering, and deliveries, as those were all one department.

I knew this was going to ultimately mean a few fewer hours since I would only be working one department, so I negotiated with management to increase my pay by about $1.50.

Since I was taking on additional responsibilities, they were satisfied with the pay increase. I wasn’t trying to get as much bank out of them as I could, I just wanted to be able to pay my bills and still have a little amount left over for fun.

I was living in the highly taxed city of Chicago, which is in the already highly taxed state of Illinois, so it was pretty difficult to make ends meet and still have something left to enjoy my life.

I am a person of simple pleasures and I can enjoy things for long periods of time, so it didn’t take much to be happy. A video game could hold my attention for several months, sometimes even years. I had a family pet that I had brought with me to Chicago, so that counted as an extra expense. Not long after I started this position as the unofficial supervisor, I got a significant other so I was also going out more often and spending on her.

With my position and some smart budgeting, I was able to afford all of this. The money wasn’t an issue, but management had a high turnover rate, so the incoming managers often did not know what the department entailed or how important hours were to workers of these departments.

Eventually, it was noted that our current general manager was going to be fired and replaced. The incoming general manager was supposed to be some rockstar when it came to improving restaurants.

We looked up his name and found him as the first search result on Google. But the entry wasn’t some glowing review of his work ethic or of his impeccable ability to improve the way a restaurant runs… It was actually a mugshot and a police report filed for repeated domestic abuse. This is important later. We’ll call him Harvey.

Shortly after Harvey came in and started making changes, one of our best managers gave her resignation.

She refused to work with him, and like an Oracle, told us to expect lots of harassment, misogynistic comments, and for him to eventually run this place into the ground. Not long after she left, our general manager began replacing our current managers with hand-picked people that he had worked with in the past. Eventually, all but one manager was replaced. That manager was the kitchen manager.

We will call him Fred.

Fred had been there since I had started working there. He seemed to be something of a chameleon, as his values and ethics seemed to change depending on who his boss was. Honestly, I sort of applaud his survival instincts, but ultimately see him as a suck-up and traitor.

Harvey never really replaced the manager for our department, so we ran without a lot of oversight.

Unless you count me as the supervisor, we didn’t constantly have someone breathing down our necks about how things should be done. Our department had some hiccups here and there, but it still ran really smoothly.

Since we did not have our own manager, we often had to radio for a manager to come to help us out on things that needed a manager card for approval.

Fred would always be the one to answer these calls since the kitchen was closest to our department. Over time the new team of managers started to see Fred as the manager of our department as well. However, the hourly team that worked there still saw me as their supervisor. This meant that any time Fred was trying to make changes that would ultimately hurt us, the team relied on me to mitigate those disasters or to negotiate with Fred to let us do our jobs the way we had already proven worked really well.

Over several months Fred and I would butt heads dozens of times. He and I were constantly arguing about how important hours were to the workers in this department. He had it in his head that we should be living off of tips like servers, but since most of our orders were carryout, they came in through Grubhub, and Grubhub doesn’t tip. We didn’t have a lot of deliveries in a day, and the tips we got from those were maybe $10 if we were lucky.

But splitting $10 four ways doesn’t add up to a lot. It just showed that Fred had no clue what he was talking about.

Eventually, we had a meeting with Harvey, Fred, and all the workers of this department. it was marketed as a chance to voice all our grievances and concerns with the changes they wanted to make with no chance of retaliation. So the workers did exactly that.

They talked about how Fred was trying to cut hours even though he isn’t our actual manager. When it was brought up that they were attempting to hire someone to be the manager, the team suggested that I take over since I had already been supervising them and running things smoothly for the last several months. I was also the one that management consulted with when writing schedules as I had an understanding of the days some workers could and couldn’t work depending on their school schedules or family life.

I could see at the moment it was suggested, that Harvey and Fred made the decision on the spot that I had to be rid of. Although they didn’t say it, I could see the look they gave each other, and instinctively knew that my days at this place were numbered and my job was going to be getting the ax one way or another.

They made a bunch of promises to us about not cutting hours.

They told us that they would stop sending all but one person home early and only leaving one person to clean everything and close up by themselves, as this wasn’t a small department and it was simply too much for one person to do alone while still meeting health and safety standards. They promised that whatever hours we were scheduled for, we would work. We weren’t trying to be unreasonable, so we told them that we usually have 3 or 4 people scheduled to work our department.

They could cut two of them early, but we always needed at least 2 people here to help close properly. The promise was made that they would always have at least two closers.

However, only about a week later, they started sending all but one person home early again every night. One night they tried to do it while I was scheduled as the closer, and we had just returned from a massive catering event and there was an unbelievable amount of cleanup left to do for one person.

When Fred came in and tried to send everyone except me home I stepped up and told him that he was consistently breaking the promise he had made to us during the meeting. He looked me square in the face and told me to stop complaining about it, and if I was going to keep trying to talk to him about him breaking his promises he could easily find someone who could work my shifts.

I quickly realized that this was an assassination attempt on my job. He wanted me to press it further. So I backed off and started cleaning. I ended up having to stay way late, and that meant overtime pay anyway. I got a write-up for that since we aren’t allowed to work overtime without a manager’s approval. When I refused to sign the write-up, pointing out that I had tried to explain to Fred that I wouldn’t be able to clean up all that stuff alone before my scheduled shift ended, I was allowed to leave without signing the write-up, but only because the HR rep that was present at the time wasn’t one of Harvey’s cronies.

Skip ahead, to the day I was fired:

It is important to note at this point that I always came into work an hour early. Since we lived in Chicago, food was expensive. However, at our job, we were allowed to have as much free soup and bread as we liked. So I would come into work one hour early every day so I could have some soup and bread for lunch before my shift.

But on this day, when I walked into the kitchen to get myself some soup, one of the line cooks told me that he had a dish that had been canceled after he cooked it, and Fred had told him to give it to someone. He assured me Fred had already comped it and that it was free to take for whoever wanted it. It just so happened to be my favorite appetizer so I happily took the free food.

Not long after I got to my booth, both Harvey and Fred approached me and asked me if I had put in a ticket for that food. I told them that the line cook had given it to me and said it was the canceled order that Fred had already comped… Fred looked dumbfounded and said he had no idea what I was talking about. So Harvey told me ‘I think you know that’s theft.

Go ahead and finish the food and then grab your stuff and go. That’s the last meal you’ll be having here.’

I tried to explain to them that I had been given this food by the line cook, but they refused to listen, so I offered to take them to the kitchen to clear it up with the cook. But by the time I had gone back to the kitchen with them to talk to the line cook, he had already gone home for the day.

I had no choice but to gather my stuff, say my goodbyes, and head home.

On my way out, I told the people working my department that afternoon what had happened, exactly as it happened. They were shocked and angry, but mostly sad to see me go. I decided that on my way out, I would stop by the accounting office and pick up any tips that may have been dropped for me that week, just to make sure I didn’t get screwed over.

Before heading down, I had the gut feeling to just set my phone to record, and I stuffed it into my pocket with the camera rolling. Although the video was entirely black since it was in my pocket, I did manage to get a pretty muffled recording of Harvey and Fred’s voices through the door, discussing how things had gone as planned, and that they had been trying to get rid of me ever since the meeting with my department.

I knocked on the door and they hushed up before opening it. They asked what I was still doing there, and I asked for my tips. They gathered what was in the safe for me and handed it over. Despite my anger rising at what I had just heard, I decided not to burn this bridge just yet… Because perhaps I could nuke it later. I offered a handshake to both managers, thanked them for the opportunity to work there, and left, making sure to pull my phone out of my pocket and record the front of the restaurant, with the sign showing its name and logo.

Working in a restaurant, you learn to ALWAYS COVER YOUR OWN BUTT. It’s true for most jobs, but something was just telling me I would need this all later. If I was being accused of theft, I wanted to be able to prove it wasn’t true if it ever came up in future job interviews… This is exactly what happened and where this all started going nuclear.

On the train ride home, I sent some messages and made some posts on some local groups on social media saying that I had just been fired and that I was looking for a job as quickly as possible. By the time I got off at my stop, I had already set up an interview for later that day.

I was offered the job about 5 minutes into the interview, but after going over the details, it didn’t sound like it was for me, so I turned it down.

I interviewed at a few other places and found one that was a damned good fit, with a hefty pay increase compared to my previous job, and I wouldn’t have to deal with customers. It was an auditing job for a logistics company.

However, during the interview with the manager of this job, he mentioned he had already called my previous place of employment and spoken with the general manager, Harvey.

Harvey had told him that I had even been fired for theft. Luckily for me, the manager I was interviewing with asked me to tell him more about that… and he was willing to let me pull out my phone and find the recording.

I asked if the voice in the video was the same as the one he spoke on the phone with. It was. That was confirmation enough for him that I hadn’t made a fake video.

He listened to the two managers in the video admit that they had set me up, and watched to the end when I showed the front of the restaurant, complete with the logo and name.

The manager interviewing me, who we’ll start calling Dean, hired me immediately and asked me to send him the recording. I did.

I thought that was the end of it.

About 7 months later, after settling into this job quite nicely, HR sent out a ‘Welcome all our new team members’ email, which listed all the newest hires, some facts about them, and had pictures of them all.

They sent these out every time they hired a new round of people.

One of them, Thomas, was a former coworker who worked with me at the restaurant. We had worked at the host stand together, so I was pretty glad to see someone I knew and liked coming onto the team. I sought out his desk and went and said hi, and asked why he left the restaurant.

He hadn’t left willingly. He’d been laid off because the company was under investigation. It had started as a relatively small matter. The corporate entity that owned the restaurant chain had received an email with an attached video. MY video that had been filmed from inside my pocket. That caused enough for corporate to send someone to investigate internally.

Thomas was pretty surprised that I hadn’t heard anything about it, since there had been numerous attempts to get in touch with me.

As soon as he said that, I logged into the old email I had used when I first applied for the job at the restaurant. I had at least two dozen emails asking me to come in to discuss my employment and termination. I never replied. I just didn’t care enough anymore.

I’d also changed my number since then, so they hadn’t been able to contact me by phone.

Thomas continued explaining that before corporate had sent someone, Harvey and Fred had talked with my department and tried to offer them all a small pay increase to spin corporate a story about how I was incompetent at my job and failed to live up to my duties.

The day the corporate auditor showed up, there had been a small exodus of people from my old department.

They quit ON THE SPOT, in front of the lady from corporate (let’s call her Audrey), and made sure to rat out Harvey and Fred before leaving.

Strike one for both of them.

Strike two came a couple of days after Audrey showed Harvey and Fred the recording that had kicked all of this off. They denied it vehemently, but there was no mistaking Harvey’s voice. It’s unique.

Not only that, but the video also picked up their voice and mine when we shook hands and had a friendly parting of the ways, which was something they had already bragged about to Audrey, thinking it made them look better that we were able to part on good terms. This wasn’t the actual strike two. That came when it was clear they needed to be separated, so Audrey sent Fred to work at another restaurant owned by our parent company and temporarily demoted Harvey to manager.

This tore them apart. They had once been an inseparable evil team, but the pressure of the investigation must have pushed them over the edge. They ended up at each other’s throats… on social media, on a public post on the company page. The post had since been deleted, but Thomas explained it as the following.

Fred had been pictured in the social media post on the restaurant page, and Harvey made a passive-aggressive comment about how Fred shouldn’t even be in the picture since he had been moved to another restaurant due to misconduct.

Fred saw this comment and said something along the lines of ‘At least when people google my name, I don’t show up as the guy that punched his wife.’

To which Harvey responded, ‘Very funny from the guy who is two-timing his wife with Janet’s sister.’ (Not her real name, but Janet was the girl they appointed to officially supervise my old department after they fired me, the unofficial supervisor.)

Fred replies to that by saying ‘Like you haven’t tried with half the waitresses.

They all have stories about you trying to hook up with them.’

The post was deleted, but not before it had been seen by Audrey the auditor. That officially struck two.

Strike three came the next day when Audrey started interviewing the female waitstaff and bartenders, seeing if any of them could confirm that Harvey had tried to make a move on them.

All of them were interviewed separately, several of them had similar stories.

Every girl that confirmed Harvey had made a move on them all said he had offered to be their ‘Sugar Daddy’ if they would send inappropriate photos or stay after closing to fool around with him.

Harvey was fired. But that isn’t the worst of it. Audrey the Auditor wasn’t just some random woman from corporate. She was the old regional manager for this area and had personally hired Harvey’s wife as the general manager of another restaurant in the city.

So she called up the restaurant Harvey’s wife worked at and told Harvey’s wife everything she had learned from the female waitstaff.

We learned later that they had gotten a divorce over him trying to two-time her after she’d already given him a second chance to change after he had BEAT HER. I don’t know what compelled her to give him a second chance after something like that, but she sure didn’t give him a third.

After firing Harvey, the line cook who had given me the food was interviewed by Audrey. I don’t know how it came up, but at some point, he had let it slip that he was an illegal immigrant. She had his file in her hand, with an Illinois ID and Social Security Number on file, so this confused her and she pressed him for more information

It turns out that Fred had some connections and had his own miniature black market going on where he would have fake social security cards and IDs made for the illegal immigrants he was hiring at reduced wages.

It had been going on for at least 4 years.

Needless to say, this is a felony. With the potential PR nightmare that she was likely dealing with, she felt she had no choice but to alert the authorities. Local PD enlisted the help of the FBI since some of the evidence led them beyond the jurisdiction of the local police.

Fred was arrested, and quickly gave up the names of the people working that he had sold Social Security Cards and IDs to.

I’m not sure if he gave up ALL of them, but he did name drop about 14 people, and of those 14, at least half were deported by the time Thomas had been let go. One of them was the line cook that had given me the food the day I was fired.

Thomas went on to explain that it had all started with me being fired, but I never sent that recording to corporate.

I’d only sent it to Dean when he hired me.

I asked him about it, and he told me he had sent it to his wife since she was a lawyer. He wanted to see if I had a case to maybe sue my old job since what they had done was wrong. But he also remembered that when we had the first talk about it, I had said I’m not the type of person who would try to make millions off an entire company because of the mistakes of two jerks.

But I’d also said that it would be pretty sweet to see them lose their jobs too.

So his wife had been the one that sent it to the legal team at the corporate HQ of my old restaurant job.

My boss showed it to his wife, who forwarded it to the real head honchos of my old job. They were both just trying to get two idiots fired for what they did to me but ended up pulling a thread so long that it didn’t end until there were harassment accusations, revelations about managers two-timing their wives with girls related to people they had placed in positions of authority, a divorce, mass layoffs pending investigations, a staff overhaul, an FBI investigation into what could be considered black market dealings of falsified government-issued documents, and at least a half dozen deportations and probably as many as 14.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

10. We Never Heard From The Garage Band Since Then


“I lived in an old neighborhood while going to school. The house was divided up into apartments and the landlord was really a slum lord – holes in the linoleum flooring, hadn’t been painted in years, mold in the cupboards, etc. There was an alley behind the house and the neighbors had an old garage with a padlock on the outside. Starting at about 9 pm their band would get together to practice in the garage.

They wouldn’t quiet down no matter how many folks asked them to (families with kids, college students, etc.) I had a job in a restaurant working as a baker at 6 am. I went out at 11 one night to talk to them again. They had left the padlock unlocked in the hasp when they went into the garage.

Instead of interrupting, I just locked the door on the outside. At about 12 we could hear crashing and yelling from the angry Garage Band to be let out. Evidently, the big door wasn’t working and the only way out was through a little window. They must have gone somewhere else to practice after that. We never heard them again.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

9. I Ruined The Life Of An Online Troll


“It was in 2015 that I would spend my days Googling pointless topics. One day, I decided to look up opinions on the meaning of life. I scrolled through various pages of search engine results until I came across the concept of Nihilism.

What is Nihilism? Nihilism interested me because it was unlike any other belief I found on my search for the meaning of life.

To put it simply, Nihilism is the belief that the world is meaningless.

It is a pessimistic approach to life, which suggests that there is no point in life because nothing holds real relevance. Nihilism can make people believe existence does not matter therefore their actions do not either. Many people view Nihilism as a real belief that opposes our human nature to seek significance. I wanted to speak to a real-life Nihilist and hear their opinions on life.

What I found shocked me.

Upon discovering Nihilism, I joined several social media groups surrounding the topic. These groups were full of dark humor and memes that made fun of life and passing away. Comments such as “existence is misery” were common to see. In these groups, I came across a few genuine Nihilists. The community was predominantly made up of people who were depressed, or people who would see the humor in depression.

The Nihilist approach meant that depression was not important, because nothing is relevant. I found that the constant sharing of these kinds of dark, life-threatening memes meant that people become desensitized. People would believe that their existence is meaningless, which is not a good thought to have if you are dealing with genuine depression.

I spoke to one individual privately who said they did not want to live anymore.

They told me “the world is not real but my sadness is.” The world is not real, but my sadness is.

This made me realize that Nihilism and depression are a bad combination. I reassured this person and told them they were important. A few months later, I went to get in touch to see how they were getting on but I discovered that their social media account had vanished.

Fast forward to mid-2016 and I get a notification from one of the Nihilist groups.

It was someone seeking genuine advice. They said they were scared. Upon checking the comments of the post, I noticed one person giving them awful advice. The person giving the advice was the troll whose life I went on to ruin. I will refer to this troll as Nigel.

At the time, I thought that Nigel was being edgy for the sake of it but this was not the case.

I thought back to the time when I spoke to the person who told me their sadness was real but the world was not. The fact they had disappeared off social media gave me goosebumps. I assumed that the worse had happened and that this could become a reoccurring story in this group. There were many more damaging comments to other people by Nigel.

The First Warning

I realized that Nigel was not your ordinary troll and that I had to do something to stop him.

I created a fake profile to contact Nigel. At this time, I had no intention to ruin his life, I just wanted to stop him from ruining the lives of others. On my fake profile, I told him that I had seen his comments and that they could have a devastating effect.

He replied to tell me that he did not care.

From my understanding, Nigel had the belief that depression was a weakness to humanity.

It appeared he was on a mission to sift out the weak members of society. It was almost like he got a buzz from it, some weird kick that motivated him to do it that I could not understand. I warned Nigel that if continued, there would be repercussions.

He told me that he did not care and then blocked my fake profile. I logged into my genuine profile and checked for new posts by Nigel.

A day later, I saw that he was back to his old tricks. He was, yet again, giving self-destructive advice to another mentally tortured soul.

The Second Warning

Nigel had made a crucial mistake by not setting his social media profile to private. I was able to see every post that he had ever made, as well as the friends that he had.

Nigel was a family man and made it clear on social media how much his wife meant to him.

I decided that I would give Nigel his second warning. This time I would make it more personal. This time I wanted to put the fear into him. Within ten minutes, I was able to find Nigel’s home address. I decided that I would write a letter to his address. This letter was handwritten to add a personal touch.

On the envelope, I addressed the letter to his wife’s name so that he would not be able to simply brush it under the carpet.

The letter read the following –

“Your husband continues to give dangerous advice online and he must be stopped. Could you please let him know that this is his final warning? I will be watching.”

The letter was sent with the intention to make Nigel stop doing what he does.

I thought that this would be the only way that I could get through to him. The more I thought about it, the more I felt guilty that his wife may be living in fear.

This was something I did not take into consideration initially. My mission to stop Nigel clouded my thought, however, I knew this was necessary for the greater good.

The Final Blow

It had been a month since I wrote the letter and I had not seen a single post from Nigel.

I thought maybe I had finally gotten through to him, but I was wrong. Another month had passed and Nigel was back at it again.

I was disappointed, however, I was not prepared to give up. I reached out to the depressed victims to let them know they had my support. Nigel had to pay for his actions, but how?

I decided to take a deeper look into Nigel’s personal life. His use of the internet meant that his life was essentially an open book.

I was stunned when I discovered that he worked at a care home.

He was not someone I could trust in society to care for others. I knew I had to deliver the final blow.

Nigel’s Linkedin profile revealed that he was a senior member at a care home. This care home was reputable and risked their reputation by hiring him. I dug deep to pull out a barrage of screenshots I had of Nigel’s activity online.

After some contemplation, I decided that I would get in touch with the care home via their social media page.

I logged into the fake profile via a proxy and sent the screenshots. I did not believe that he was fit to be trusted with human life. A member of staff replied to say that the case had been handed over to the CEO.

The Aftermath

A week later, Nigel was no longer on the company website and had also removed the care home from his Linkedin page.

It was clear that his actions had caused him to lose his job. Nigel’s relationship status had changed from “In a relationship” to “It’s complicated.”

In almost an instant, he had lost his job and damaged his relationship with his family. Nigel had completely stopped posting on social media and eventually shut his account. This guy’s life was turned upside down, and it all stemmed from his actions online.

I have comfort in knowing that he will never offer damaging advice again.

Everybody has the right to an opinion, but nobody has the right to prey on the vulnerable. Do I feel guilty? Of course, but then I remember all of those people that he sought to destroy. This man was in a position of care. What if my actions had saved the life of someone? It is these thoughts that make my guilt fade away.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

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jaha1 2 years ago
I cant vote enough thumbs up. However, you shoulda contacted him (fake, before he closed his account) an told him "you had your chance--i warned you" (or something to that effect--tell him what you did, hes at fault
3 Reply

8. Upstairs Neighbor Doesn't Care, So I Made Them Care


“I used to live in an old renovated farmhouse with one apartment upstairs and mine below. I would have to get up for work at 3 am every day. A hardworking mom upstairs worked two jobs for her very obnoxious kids. Every time she worked an overnight shift, they would throw parties and be rowdy like jerks. Loud music, hitting on the walls, and what sounded like them bouncing medicine balls on the ground.

I went up several times and knocked and told them, ‘look, I’m not gonna tell your mom or call the cops, I just want some sleep. So keep having fun but please keep the noise down so I can wake up for work at 3.’ Did this several times in a week one time and they finally told me, ‘go screw yourself old man’ (I was 23).

I knew my landlord and he knew I knew how to work on houses so he gave me the only key to the basement where all the electrical, water heaters, etc were stored.

After being told to go screw myself I had enough. I went downstairs, flipped off the breaker to the upstairs apartment, locked the door, and went back for a peaceful night’s sleep. Woke up at 3 and turned back on the power as I left for work.

Every day the parties got loud for the next two weeks, I would simply go turn off their power and enjoy a nice night’s sleep.

After that, no more parties. I think the message came through.”

3 points (3 vote(s))

7. Sneak Behind My Back? I'll Go To Your Mom's


“I thought I had met the perfect woman. We met in the last year of college. We met at a party and hit it off instantly. She was a beautiful blonde with sun-kissed skin and she could have been a model. (think Kate Upton type figure) She was kind, compassionate, sympathetic, a good listener, and had an active life with many friends. She liked my friends and it was awesome over the three years we knew each other in how our friend groups merged.

Several of our friends began going out with each other. It was some of the best times of my life.

I was on for a post-grad in finance and she had a degree in contractual law. This is just to say we ended up being successful in our own rights.

But I’m no slouch in the looks department either. 5’ 11” 190 lbs and liked the gym. I wasn’t a super athlete but let’s just say I was built.

But I was/am very shy and didn’t have a lot of prior relationships prior to meeting her.

The first evening we met, we were smitten. The first night we talked all night. Then it went to texting/phone calls daily, then outings weekly, then after a year (when I started working my new job) she moved in. I loved her family and her family loved me. (Mostly her mother as her father was standoffish – as he was to everyone).

It was a whirlwind romance.

After two and a half blissful years of overseas vacations, hiking trips, and luxury vacations I proposed to her. She said YES! I was over the moon. She was doing all the planning for the wedding. We were talking about our futures together, buying a house, children and family trips that we were going to take together, and all such things like that.

Then it happened. One evening after we both get home to our apartment; she is a little distant. I think I noticed it right away as we were always very affectionate towards each other. This would only happen about once a week for the first month (after the proposal) then it was more frequent. I would have been none the wiser except that I used to listen to a lot of Reddit on YouTube.

So, I waited and observed. These bouts of ignoring me would only last a couple of hours then she would be right back to normal. But after six months (wedding in a year) she was like this almost every night.

Our intimate life was still great. My relationship with her parents was still great, but over Thanksgiving, at her parents’ home in Louisville, Kentucky (we lived just north of DC) she was standoffish towards me in front of her mother.

Now her mother was a very observant woman. She pulled her daughter aside to talk to her and I could hear them arguing. After some heated but muffled words, they returned to the rest of the family and carried on like nothing was going on. I figured I could ask her about it later and did. She was not willing to talk about it and asked me to wait till we were home to discuss it.

I agreed as I loved her deeply and thought we could work through anything.

Her mother was an older version of her. Same stunning looks (just a few grays in her long thick blonde hair). This is important later.

Back home I asked her about it, and she was unwilling to discuss it. When pressed on it for a week she finally confessed that a guy at her work was trying to get to know her better.

She wanted to be forthcoming so she showed me her phone and as I looked through it I noticed that all the texts that would have happened during the times she was withdrawing from me were removed. There was nothing untoward in the texts. But I did go into her phone settings and turned on her locator on her phone as we shared the same phone plan.

And I honestly thought it would make me see that she was not doing anything wrong.

Was I wrong? That second weekend after Thanksgiving she had a company Christmas party. I had planned on going but came down with food poisoning and had to back out. She had a friend pick her up from our apartment as they planned on drinking a lot and had a designated driver for the evening.

We had planned on going out all night so I told her to have a blast and I would see her in the morning.

So, as I’m puking my guts out and barely able to get off the toilet for more than thirty minutes, I grabbed my phone and watched her location. First, it was a restaurant, then the venue of the company party, then a bar.

None of this alarmed me until I saw her phone stop in a downtown hotel. At this point, I was miserable in more ways than three. Projectile vomiting out my butt, mouth, and now soul. I finally fell asleep due to sheer exhaustion at 2 AM. At 7 AM I awoke and saw she was still at the hotel.

At noon she finally comes home, and I am on the mend.

She loves me up and I asked her about the previous night without mentioning anything about knowing her locations. She talks about the restaurant, party, the bar, but then says she went to her friend’s house to crash for the evening. – first lie.

For the next three months, she has to start working later and later three to four days a week. As I start asking her about it, she becomes more and more defensive.

I talked to her mom one evening when she didn’t come home until late. I asked her mom about the Thanksgiving conversation and she admitted to me that she thought her daughter might be stepping out of our relationship, because of how she read her body language. She also said that her daughter was being more and more distant with her in their weekly texting conversations.

With all this speculation that was going on in my mind, I kept it to myself. Two weeks later at work, I ended up getting a new project at my company that was going to require me to fly to the Midwest Monday through Friday for the next five weeks starting in two weeks. It came with a salary increase and as I broke the news to my fiancé, she was delighted for me.

I didn’t think though that she was excited for the same reasons I was. So, I went online and ordered four motion-activated spy cameras for my apartment. I put one in the living room/entry area, one in the kitchen, one in our bedroom, and one looking down our hallway. They were very small and connected to the internet via a hidden network so they couldn’t be spotted on the WiFi network.

I secured the cams with a password and waited.

On my first week out she had friends over the first two nights and never worked late once. The third night a guy came over. I was enraged. I’m sitting there in my hotel room screaming at the monitor and calling her every name in the book. Then they went all the way – first on the couch, then in our bed.

She bent for ways for him that I didn’t know were possible. What was worse was as I am watching them get it on I called her to see how her day went. She hears her phone ringing and holds her hand up for him to stop and answers the call. I ask why she is breathing heavy and said she was at the gym working out.

As soon as the call is over she goes right back to doing the dirty.

When I got home Friday evening, I ignored her and went right to bed, and early Saturday got up and went cycling. I was so upset that I didn’t even realize that I biked over fifty miles from our apartment. The furthest I had biked before was thirty miles. But that day I went 105.6 miles.

Getting back absolutely exhausted I showered. Then she and I went out that evening and had fun with our friends and had A LOT to drink.

I was bursting inside. Heartbreak, anger, rage feelings of betrayal all swirled around in my heart and mind. She, who used to be so attentive was oblivious to all this. It hurt so much because I loved her so much.

I finally confided in one of our mutual friends and he told me that they all knew about it for months! I was finally told – they all felt sorry for me, but no one again said a damn thing to me.

Which is why they stopped inviting us out with them. I hadn’t noticed it before, but I could look back and see that about three months prior they gradually invited us/me less and less.

So, I figured I would try and win her back – the next weekend I planned the entire weekend as a complete weekend of spoiling her in every way. Wined and dined, pampering, massages, rubs, and talked to her about future plans and about how much I loved her.

I knew I was starting to break through when after her fourth glass of wine she started to cry, and I could tell the guilt was coming up to the surface.

I asked her what was wrong, but she would choke up every time she tried to speak. I then told her that if she did something in her past or was having some kind of conflict in her mind that she needed to speak to me about that.

I was more than willing to talk with her about it and if forgiveness was needed then I was more than willing to forgive and move on. The only words that came out of her mouth in her were how much she loved me.

It actually hurt to hear that from her as I now had four separate videos of her and the other guy in our apartment getting it on.

Over the next eight weeks of traveling to the Midwest (the trips lasted for what would be ten weeks) I recorded over 41 hours of her sleeping with what I found out was her coworker. She never worked late once while I was gone.

I tried every weekend to be extra attentive and each week she got more and more distant. After watching this for eight weeks I was done so I devised a 12 step getaway plan.

1. Gather evidence.

2. Get her out of the way in order to execute my plan – I scheduled a two-week exclusive getaway trip for us at an all-inclusive resort in Barbados. She was ecstatic. Then a week before the trip I claimed I had to back out and told her to take a friend. (I knew it was over when she showed no disappointment that I couldn’t go.) She scheduled a coworker to go with her.

3. Terminate our apartment lease. (It would expire three days into her trip and I was the sole signature on the lease.)

4. Find a job in another town. (The company I had been assisting in the Midwest had offered me a job with a slight salary increase.)

5. Find a new place to live. (I got an apartment in the above-said location.)

When she is gone perform the following:


Take her to the airport, go back home, and pack all her things (same day).

7. Get a new phone number/phone/email. Cancel all social media.

8. Separate us completely in regard to finances. (Withdrew all monies from our joint accounts and then closed them. I put all her money in an envelope and packed it in her things.)

9. Have the movers pack all my things up and ship it west.

10. Take all her things to her mother’s house 600 miles away. All my fiancé’s belongings fit into the back and bed of my F-250 crew cab. Tuesday through Saturday.

11. Give her mother the evidence.

12. Start my new life.

I didn’t want to do anything that was illegal, so I made sure that nothing of hers was missing. It was so hard to pack all her stuff nice and neatly away.

I never cried so hard in my life.

My hope was that she would genuinely confess so we could forgive and move on. She never did. Twice she came really close, but her secret was too hard for her to reveal.

Tuesday morning, I left our apartment north of DC for the last time. It took ten hours to get to her mom’s house.

What happened when I got there I was not prepared for.

I arrived at her mom’s house around eight in the evening. I figured she would be surprised to see me since I was coming down unannounced. Since they lived in a gated community, I had to buzz her house from the front gate, so she was waiting for me outside when I drove up.

I could tell that she had been crying when I walked up to see her.

I asked her what was wrong and she hugged me balling that she thought her husband was sneaking behind her back with a much younger, skinnier, and prettier woman. Dumbfounded I just held her for what was probably ten minutes. She soaked my right shoulder with her tears and snot.

When she finally composed herself, I asked if we could go in a talk. We went in and I asked where her husband was and she indicated that he said he was going fishing with his buddies at a remote cabin an hour away.

Then she said, ‘he hates fishing!’ She gave me all the indications that she had picked up on and apparently it had been going on for about a year.

So, doing a little bit of research we found a credit card hold charge for a 5-star hotel that was only twenty minutes away. One call later confirmed her husband was in fact there for a four-night stay messing around with his mistress.

‘Two peas in a pod,’ I said. ‘What,’ she responded. ‘Two peas in a pod,’ I said again. ‘Your husband is lying to you and your daughter is lying to me. That’s why I came here to drop her stuff off and move to XXXX’.

I showed her the evidence in a binder on screen captures I had made. After looking at the first three or four pages she looked at me dumbfounded.

We both hugged and cried for a good thirty minutes. At that point, she said stop crying and looked at me and said, ‘Well tonight there is nothing we can do about it except for you and me to knock out these three bottles of Moscato and have fun in every room of the house.’

She grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle of Moscato wine and walked out to their private pool deck saying, ‘Are you coming out here, or are you going to get revenge?’

Now I won’t go into much detail, but that night and for the next three days we messed around non-stop.

After those days were over, we passionately said goodbye and I drove to my new destination.

She kept me informed as to everything that happened when now ex-fiancé got back.

The day fiancé got back was epic. I canceled my phone the morning of the day she got back. So when the plane landed and she called for a ride it indicated the phone was disconnected. She apparently had her lover take her home.

He dropped her off and left. When she came to the door a strange couple (new tenants) answered the door and she freaked out. I can’t tell you how many times she tried to call me because again the number was no longer valid. She went to her friend’s to stay for a time as the coworker was already married.

When she called her mom in a panic her mom told her that I had come down and dropped off all her things and mentioned that all her monies were down there as well.

(600 miles away). Her mom didn’t tell her that she had hooked up with me more in three days than my fiancé and I had in the last six months. But she did tell her that she knew that she was lying to me, and I said I had found a new job, place to stay, and new career far away from her and all the ‘friends’ we had.

And that her mother was separating from her father due to infidelity.

Apparently, she cried for days and took a week off of work. But alas she found comfort in the arms of her married lover.

Her Mom never let her know where I was at. I had completely cut off that part of my life. The only link I had to that old life was my fiancé’s mom. And she has kept our secret to this day.

Fiancé was ghosted the mosted!!”

2 points (4 vote(s))

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ligu1 2 years ago
I wish this would of ended with also sending the evidence to coworkers wife.
3 Reply
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6. Cut In Line? No Food For You


“I bartend at the airport. This happened last night, and it felt absolutely glorious. The security line through TSA (Transportation Security Administration) was insane. There is an ’employee’ line, but it’s mixed in with the regular line, hard to explain, but it’s basically not any faster if you will. After I and a coworker had already been waiting 25 minutes, we finally hit the front of the line.

Two employees apparently thought they were more important than everyone else, and cut in front of us. I was furious. I remembered their faces. We have hot grab-and-go burgers and sandwiches at my store, and what we don’t sell at the end of the night, we usually walk around and hand them out to employees or random people flying out.

One of the line cutters came up 20 minutes after close, and we had like 30 hot sandwiches left.

She asked if she could order food still, and I said we were closed. She says, ‘What are you going to do with those sandwiches?’ I replied, ‘That’s up to my manager.’ She told me I better find out fast because her break is almost over. I was counting my till and had just finished it. I told her I couldn’t ask until I finished counting my till.

I recounted it 6 times until she left. Then I bagged up all the sandwiches and handed them out to every single other airport employee I could find, with a smile, like I was Santa Clause. Take that you line cutting jerk.”

Another User Comments:

“I was in a TSA Pre-Check line. A dude that looked somewhat official (navy slacks, button-down, and a dark knit vest) walked up and just kinda looked at me like he’s going in front whether I like it or not.

I was like, whatever. I got time. But then this super skinny young girl in street clothes goes to cut in front of the dude. He gets huffy. She says she’s late for work. And then this dumb argument ensues between them about who’s got more seniority! Cause he’s some kind of important paper-pusher and she’s a lowly sandwich girl. Only a few minutes earlier I was next in line. And now I got two people in front of me arguing and holding everyone up. Security was just standing there watching. Waiting for a fistfight maybe? Taking bets? So ridiculous.” BadWolfCreative

2 points (2 vote(s))

5. Fire Me? You're All Losing Your Jobs


“I ended up working behind the counter as a customer service manager, basically a step up from a cashier. It’s fancy when seen on a CV but there’s nothing really to it. I took bets, chatted with customers, helped people with machines, and (for the vast majority of my shift) sat around waiting for something to do. I got on well with my co-workers (or so I thought) and had no major issues.

It was 20 hours a week, about £1 more than minimum wage with a lot of overtime required of me and irregular shift patterns. Though I had no issue with the job, beyond how difficult it was to juggle the schedules of both of my jobs.

In February of 2019 (after working for the company for 6 months) I was invited to a probation hearing. It cannot be emphasized enough that it was a Probation hearing in which I would have my performance reviewed and (as informed in training) was entitled to a pay rise at the end of it.

I arrived that morning at a Disciplinary Hearing where, without even a shred of evidence, I was accused of 11 different discrepancies back to early November of 2018 (shortly after I’d started) which all amounted to £271.36. All but one of which I’d never heard of before.

These had apparently been reported and logged by my manager (Shay) and my co-workers, despite no one saying a word to me at all.

Not a whisper in the 5 months this had apparently been occurring.

I was told that it was unacceptable, a call was made to HR and I was terminated on the spot and forced to hand over my keys and to never set foot in the store again. To my protests, I was told the decision could not be appealed and I would eventually receive written confirmation of my employments termination in the post.

I didn’t let myself slump around and feel sorry for myself, so (on the way home) I opened up Indeed and applied for a bunch of jobs and (before I arrived home) had an interview set up for the next week at what is my current place of work.

Now, I was FURIOUS. Fuming at having gone to what I thought should have been a normal probation meeting and having (effectively) been called a thief and been banned for life from a place I’d never go to anyway.

But somehow, my parents were angrier and ordered me to let them know when they got into contact with me again.

Almost two weeks later I received an EMAIL from the company’s HR which reiterated the accusations and stated (again) that I was terminated. My mum sat me down in her kitchen and walked me through a letter response that was two parts professional and three parts scathing.

Ripping into them about their unprofessional conduct, their ludicrous claims, their lack of evidence, the holes in their story (because there were quite a few), and finally, the cherry on the cake…

The employment laws they’d broken.

Now I didn’t want much, just a nice reference. A promise that not a whisper of these accusations would turn up when my new job asked them for a reference (because, by then, I’d already been offered the job).

I then attached the letter to an email to fire back at their HR department.

Then I added Janelle’s (Shay’s manager) work email. Then her boss’s email and finally, the holding company that owned the brand. Cause I wanted to make sure this was seen.

A bit of background, the bookies I worked for is a brand that is owned by an international company, their name (behind the scenes) is slapped on everything and they pretty much dictate everything we did.

I’m not sure if the holding company is the correct term, but I’ll stick to that for now.

Anyway, I sent this email with a forty-eight-hour window for a response. I received a reply the next day from the same email that my demands were being met. I smirked victoriously and moved on with my life, happy to wash my hands with the entire ordeal. However, I’d set off a chain reaction that I wouldn’t know about until three months later.

Three months on, I’d settled into my new job, a call center position with double the hours and well over double the pay.

I’d gone through training and was settling into my new position when I see a new set of trainees settling in near my team. Among them was Gordan, one of my co-workers from the bookies.

I was stunned. Gordan had been at the bookies for six years when I joined.

He was well-liked, good at his job, and a favorite of the managers. There was no way he’d been fired.

Though I didn’t really want to talk to him (as I was of the impression that he, Jorge (another employee), and my manager had likely set me up) I did want to know what happened.

Luckily, on seeing me in the break room one shift, he sought me out and told me everything.

Apparently, my email had been read by the higher-ups in the holding company and had caused a lot of scrutinies to fall onto the bookies in our town (of which there were three in our area that Janelle was responsible for, two in my town and a third in a neighboring one). Someone in HR passed a message down to the Area Manager (Janelle’s boss) claiming they wanted things investigated and they wanted results yesterday, causing him to drop everything and descend on our little town with the panic and aggression of a man whose superiors were watching his every breath.

He went to Janelle wanting to know: why he hadn’t been made aware previously that I was apparently stealing, why I had been given keys to the shop and shifts on my own when allegations of that nature were attributed to me, AND why I hadn’t been put under investigation. Turns out, Janelle HAD in fact put in my ‘employee file’ that I was under investigation but had never actually gone through with any of the official procedures for monitoring and investigating me (shock horror).

Thus she had fired me for the accused crime without looking into it at all, falsely claiming otherwise.

Thus, the Area Manager took the dates and amounts of the discrepancies, confirmed that they had been reported on those days (without my knowledge) in Shay’s own logbook of the shop’s cash, and sent that information onto our security team to investigate.

Another little detail is that the CCTV for every shop in the brand is outsourced to a private security company that monitors each shop remotely and has access to all the cameras and video.

As was procedure, they looked into the times mentioned to see if I’d been doing anything untoward. I know I wasn’t and nothing was ever said to me.

But they DID find something…

Turns out, funds WERE going missing from the shop but (surprise surprise) it wasn’t me, but Jorge and Shay. They not only set me up (for reasons I will never know) but were also falsifying numbers and checks on the system to hide it.

One thing Shay was caught doing was deliberately short-changing customers by taking portions of their rewards without them even knowing it (bear in mind, a lot of our customers were elderly men and women).

Gordan claims that he once opened the shop (after I and Shay had closed the night before) and noticed a difference but had been told not to say anything to me as I was under investigation and it could compromise it.

He did apologize and I let it go.

Needless to say, Jorge and Shay were fired.

But it doesn’t end there.

Our team was small, including me, there were a total of four people working at the store. As they hadn’t been able to hire anyone to replace me, Jorge and Shay’s termination meant Gordan was the only employee at the busiest shop in our area. Even if they’d been able to get other colleagues from the two other shops to help out, it wouldn’t have been enough to keep the shop open and manage the number of customers.

So they closed the location down until they could get the staff to run it.

It was at that point that Gordan handed in his resignation and applied for his job at my work. Meaning they had no one.

On top of that, Gordan’s significant other worked in the same shop as Janelle and she relayed that she was rarely at their store (in the other town) for the next few weeks before the Area Manager reported she was fired as well.

No reason was given to her.

I was later issued an apology for everything by the Area Manager and informed she (Janelle) was no longer with the company in an email sometime later.

But SOMEHOW, it doesn’t end there.

With the store I worked at closed (this one being on the high street and where most people preferred to go), the only other location in town was the MUCH smaller location in the suburbs.

The one where Kara worked. ALONE.

She suddenly received an influx of customers into her tiny store space and absolutely no support from other staff or upper management. Thus, for her own mental health (having already been overworked and underpaid, running an entire store by herself) she quit, meaning that location had to be closed down too.

All of this at the worst possible time, March, when the Cheltenham Festival was occurring.

Which is HUGE for the gambling industry, even in a small town like ours.

An opportunity the three other bookies on the high-street reaped the benefits of instead of my old place, as the former customers went to them instead.

As it currently stands, just over a year later, both shops remain closed and I’m currently entering a job in cyber-security, the training for which I paid for with my current job.

Thanks for firing me, idiots. You did me a favor.

Gordan and I got in touch with our old Area Manager and we were able to get a bit more information:

The security team rifled through about three years worth of footage after they found out about Jorge and Shay and have estimated that (in that period alone) they both stole nearly £4,000 through various means. The parent company also got involved and searched through years’ worth of their checks and till checks and noted plenty of irregularities.

The parent company pursued criminal charges and the two were arrested but, as far as our Area Manager knows, the case is still ongoing. He thinks it’s because they are still looking into how much they actually stole (as they’ve both been there a while, Jorge about 8 years and Shay 10 years). I doubt they’ll have security footage of all that time, but I bet they’re trying to get a more accurate figure to really nail them.

And in comes a new character: Tammy (obviously not her real name). She is an employee who was hired and fired shortly before I was, at the same store. She lasted just past her probation before she was fired, wait for it, for months worth of cash differences and false checks she wasn’t made aware of prior.

HOWEVER, her situation is FAR worse than mine. Tammy is in the process of suing the company for wrongful termination (alongside financial and emotional damages) as she was put under a lot of stress whilst in the job by Shay (who apparently left her to fend for herself and would refuse to step in when customers got aggressive) and then had a miscarriage shortly after her employment was terminated.

Our Area Manager doesn’t know anything more, as it’s escalated and gone way above his head and I doubt I’ll be able to get any more information on it. But I doubt the company’s doing too well on that front and I wish her the best.

Gordan and I are considering reaching out to some of the other fired employees (of which he can name a few who were terminated for similar reasons) to get their side of things.

But it seems very clear that what Shay and Jorge were doing was going on for a long time and I was only the latest scapegoat.

Janelle, unfortunately, is perfectly fine as far as I’m aware. Her husband and she opened a taxi company several years ago and she seems to have just gotten more involved with that. I haven’t seen her so I wouldn’t know. But she was terminated for gross misconduct and for not following the procedure, which is kinda what I expected.

And Kara, who our Area Manager actually really dislikes (but is lovely and did not deserve what she went through) is doing okay. I’ve messaged her and she and her partner recently bought a house. She also got a job as an Events Manager at a local historical site. She’s happier there as she actually has people to talk to at work and isn’t alone anymore.”

2 points (2 vote(s))

4. Blast Music Outside My Bedroom? Enjoy The Shower


“I live on the top floor of an apartment building. Last night I had a couple of friends over to watch some scary movies and hang out. As the night continues, we hear the music get louder and louder outside of my apartment. The next-door neighbors were having a Halloween party on their roof, and there were at least 50-60 people there. As top 40 pounded relentlessly outside, unable to be drowned out even by the highest volume on my tv, the cheering of the crowd seemed endless.

12 am came and went, the party showed no sign of slowing or quieting down. I’m all for parties but have them indoors past a certain hour, don’t keep the whole block up listening to Doja Cat with you. That’s when I remembered the water guns. I had gotten them on Amazon during a particularly brutal hot week of summer, but they had laid unused in my closet for the past few months.

The forecast did say scattered showers, and nothing got an outside party to wind down better than inclement weather.

Embodying the ‘trick’ half of the trick or treat spirit, my 3 friends and I each grabbed a gun, filled it up with water, donned our coats, and ran up to the roof, squirting the guns off from two angles over the unsuspecting guests below. Cheers of fun turned into screams of terror as cold water splashed from above.

As I pumped blast after blast of water off the edge of my roof, it felt like I was blasting every noisy neighbor I’d ever had that had kept me up all night with music (an all too common occurrence in NYC).

We went back inside, cheeks flushed from our victory. We peeked out the window to see a few raincoats and an umbrella, but after fifteen minutes or so the party had fizzled out, and the music was blessedly turned off.

As I was using the bathroom a little bit later, which has a window facing their roof, I heard a loud debate echoing about whether it had been raining, or someone with water guns in the neighboring roof. One person swore they’d seen figures and heard them laughing, the other two said it was rain just like the forecast said. I guess they’ll never know.”

2 points (2 vote(s))

3. Cut Me In Line? Drinks Are On You!


“My biggest pet peeve in the world is when someone cuts me in line. It doesn’t matter the situation; grocery store check-outs, traffic, bathroom lines, it makes me SEETHE with rage. Usually, if I can I’ll call the person out and ask them to move to the back, but I’m not a very intimidating looking person so most people just ignore me or have an attitude.

Because it’s such a big pet peeve of mine, I will go pretty far to enact some very petty revenge.

Halloween weekend I went with a group of friends out to different bars, and as expected there were some long lines to get in. I witnessed a group consisting of 3 guys and 1 girl hop a nearby brick fence and try to shimmy their way in front of the group in front of me.

They were promptly denied until the girl of the line jumping group got involved and got angry and whiney at the others for not letting her in. She seemed a little unhinged so I assume that’s why the group in front decided it wasn’t worth the fight, and ultimately they wound up letting her group skip. I was not okay with this, but I didn’t want to cause a big scene either, and I knew the bouncers didn’t see or care on such a busy night, so I waited until we got inside to seek revenge.

The place was kind of a mixed bag, there were people dancing as well as people standing and chatting with their drinks, but it was all back to back crowded and a tight squeeze to maneuver through. I saw the girl from the line cutting incident dancing and flirting with one of the three guys who cut with her.

It would have been too easy to walk by and ‘accidentally’ spill my drink on her, so I took it a step further.

I waited until she got her own drink, and then I grabbed an abandoned cup that someone had left on a ledge nearby which was filled halfway with some fruity sticky drink. I then walked over, passed by her, feigned being pushed by the crowd, and knocked into her HARD. Her drink went everywhere, all over the guy she was flirting with and on both of their shoes, and ‘my’ drink went down her back. I dipped out before she could even turn around to see who had hit her, and then watched from the sidelines as she gathered her whole group and stomped out the door to leave because her night was ruined.

I then rejoined my friend group, grabbed my drink which I was glad I didn’t have to waste, and we enjoyed the rest of our night.”

1 points (1 vote(s))

2. Irritating Vegan Gets Backlash She Didn't Expect


“At the time I was (m27) a seven-year veteran at a large tech corporation, senior designer on the communications team by then. The senior copywriter went on maternity leave, leaving a temp in her place. Although irritating in a non-descriptive way; She presented well and seemed competent enough. For later context, she was also an uber dog lover and a staunch and righteous vegan social justice warrior.

There were frequent, mutual, and innocent, team pranks. Things like replacing a box of diet cookies with a box of crispy creams or covering the laser on someone’s mouse… like, ‘oh you dawg, you got me!’ kind of things… now let me fix that and let you get back to work.

Being desperate for acceptance, the new temp started taking things a bit far and seemed to focus pranks directly towards me.

Even after a few subtle reprimands from our manager, she continued. Things like slipping inappropriate photos or comments into a PowerPoint presentation (on the shared drive) I was about to give or fake crying during morning stand-up just to gauge reactions. Her novelty wore off fast.

Fast forward to the morning after my birthday. She knew I was going to be hungover.

I get to my desk, red-eyed and really thirsty.

Grabbed my water bottle at my desk (which I always kept full) and started chugging like it was going to save my life… it was straight booze! At least two full swallows before I realized.

I go straight for my garbage bin to throw up. The slurry of alphabet soup, at least six cans of beer (and god knows what else she put in there) made damn sure I did hurl.

I got most of the booze out but already being hungover, it made me instantly tipsy again. Was not impressed.

She came in laughing her brains out, taking full claim.

I didn’t snitch on her but the story made its rounds to HR, and she was given a stern warning.

I would have accepted an apology, even remorse but not a shred. In fact, she started calling me pukey McGee to literally no one’s fan fair.

I let it pass for a few weeks, waiting for the attention to die down.

Revenge day finally arrived.

She always left at 10 am to get a Starbucks. I took this time to plaster ‘lost dog’ posters anywhere outside the office she might stumble by on her way back. She fell for the bait, asking around but no one was the wiser.

Once she was cozy at her desk I went to her car to stage a hit-and-run massacre.

With chunks of fatty steak, a liter of fake blood, an old leash and collar, and a bag of fake fur, I went to work.

I’d share the pic but it’s long gone, but it was VERY CONVINCING. Looked like a leash was caught around her rear passenger axel and the dog got caught between the tire and wheel well. I left the collar dangling out the back with a particularly generous portion of gore and a puddle of blood.

It didn’t take long before others noticed the lost dog posters or the gory car and put two and two together. Eventually, ‘the owner of a white so and so with license plate such and such, please come to reception’ went over the intercom. It’s on!

It was delicious! She was out in the lot sobbing so hard she was coughing. Carefully placing chunks of bloody, furry, gore into a box.

It took her an hour to gather every precious bit, crying the entire time. My theory was that she wanted to return the dog to its owner as best she could before calling the number on the poster.

Was a shame there was no owner or dog, but she was too distraught to realize it was fake. I thought for sure the lack of bones or guts (and obviously fake, sticky stage blood) would be a near-instant give away but to my utter shock, it wasn’t! A scenario I wasn’t expecting but welcomed just the same.

It was just assumed the dog owner had printed the wrong number on the poster because the remains never were returned. She had the collar and leash cleaned and posted posters of her own in hopes of finding the owner.

Given her reputation, there wasn’t much sympathy offered. The righteous vegan dog lover was now a dog killer… and I took every chance I could to remind her of that.

She took down all her gaudy dog lover stuff off her desk and kept very much to herself for the remainder of her term… bonus that she even left early, but not sure if I can take credit for that for certain.”

0 points (2 vote(s))

1. Switching Up The Locks? Fine, Can't Be Too Safe


“The door at the place I live has two locks: a deadbolt, and a handle lock. My roommate and I pretty much always just lock the deadbolt from the outside when we leave because it’s secure and locking both seems unnecessary. However, my roommate is ‘very lazy,’ as they often exclaim themselves. Every now and then when they leave, they’ll open the door, turn the little handle lock from the inside (locking just the handle), and just close the door behind them, leaving without locking the deadbolt.

When I return, I go to unlock the deadbolt, but it’s already unlocked! Then I have to take the extra time and effort to put my key in the handle and unlock the door that way. Woe is me, I know.

While this doesn’t annoy me enough to say anything (gotta choose your battles and all that), it does annoy me enough to want some petty revenge. Now, whenever this happens, once I get inside, I lock both the handle and the deadbolt knowing that my roommate will have to also spend the extra time and effort unlocking both. After all, you can never be too safe, right?”

0 points (2 vote(s))

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