People Assert How They Got Revenge On Someone Who Angered Them
23. Fine Me For Being A Considerate Neighbor? I'll Pay My Fee On Time, But I'll Slowly Pay It Over 40 Days
“I live in an apartment building where everybody gets one assigned parking space per apartment as standard (you can pay for an extra one, but we don’t need that). Due to a history of bad parking in the car park, they introduced a rule whereby you could be fined if you do not park in your allotted parking spot.
Now my parking space is at the end of a row. On one side, I have a wall about 1.5m away from the end of my parking space, on the other is the car belonging to the person who lives directly below me in the building.
My ‘under’ neighbors are a family with three young children. Knowing how difficult it can be to get all of their kids into their car seats (I have two of my own), I have generally given them a bit of space and parked a little outside of the line on the opposite side.
Remember next to me on the opposite side of my parking space is a wall; there is no reason for anyone to walk next to my car at that point.
This is something I have been doing for months. I understand the need to enforce the rule where cars interfere with other parking spots or walkways, but for me, parking a little outside the spot affected nobody other than my neighbor who was given more space to get their kids into the car.
I walked down to my car recently to see a note from the management office telling me I had been fined. I went to speak to them, and sure enough, it was for parking outside of the space. I tried to explain to them that it was to help my neighbor and that nobody could be inconvenienced but they told me rules were rules and that there was nothing to do about it.
I had a fine of $60 and had 40 days to pay it.
Being quite riled up, I went through the relevant contract and was dismayed to find that they were indeed correct; there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I did however note that there was a statement in the contract stating that every single payment received by the management company had to receive a written receipt signed for by the management company within two working days, and there were also no rules about me having to make payment of my fine in a single deposit.
So, this is where the malicious compliance comes in. By this point, there were 37 days remaining to pay the fine, so I divided the $60 by 37 and set 37 recurring payments of $1.63 daily for the time remaining with my bank, which was very little effort. After a few days had passed, I went to the management office asking for my receipts.
They told me they would provide my receipt upon full payment, to which I respond that the contract was quite clear; they must provide a written receipt for each and every payment, not for each and every fine, and that they were already overdue my first receipt by a day.
They tried arguing with me, but it was completely clear from the contract, so every couple of days, they had to fill out receipts and then walk them over to my letterbox.
I have continued to give my neighbor some extra space by parking sightly over the opposite line but as of yet have not received another fine.”
22. Don't Have Enough Computers Available? I'll Just Goof Off On The Job
“I live in a 3rd world country, and working here is pretty awful, especially if you work with a bad company. Laws lean heavily in favor of the employer, and the ones that punish them aren’t really enforced that well.
This started in late 2019.
I was working as a graphic designer in a pretty terrible company. I was their only graphic designer for over 2 years at that time. I had another colleague, but he left the company before me, and as many small and awful businesses at the time, we were struggling with late paystubs.
The thing about this company is, though, that not everybody had late paystubs. Unfortunately, I had a lot of them that they managed to compile over the years, and by the time it got to 6 late checks, I’d had enough and decided to do something about it.
I was actively looking for another job, but the market was garbage, so I emailed my employer and told him that I won’t be coming to the office anymore; I’ll be working from home until they pay me at least half of what they owe me, and he said fine, work from home.
After a couple of weeks, I’ve started to slack off. I couldn’t find it in me to work anymore. Tasks that used to take me 10 minutes started taking me a couple of hours.
So, after a month or so of this, the manager called me and asked me to come to the office because he needed to talk to me about something.
I was like, fine; I’ll pass by when I’m free. I went there after a couple of days, and we sit and talk, I notice some graphic designers’ resumes on his desk, so I get what’s going on. He says, ‘I’m sorry to say this, but the CEO said that he had enough of you, and he wants me to fire you.’ I burst out laughing uncontrollably; it’s as if I heard the funniest joke ever.
When I calmed down, I said, ‘Fine by me. Give me my money, and I’m out of your hair.’ He said, ‘Fine, we are hiring 2 new graphic designers, and we need you to hand over all the files that have to do with them.’ I said fine; I wanted to be as professional as possible.
One thing that’s worth mentioning is that this company had only 2 computers fit for design work.
(So, I am entitled to all my bending salaries + a notice period which is a month since I’ve been working there for over 2 years+, a vacation/ticket salary)
Next month, the new designers come. I introduce myself and start the process of the handover. Luckily, I’m a pretty organized person, especially when it comes to the workspace. So, all my files are well organized, so the handover didn’t take more than a week.
I stayed for another week teaching them the ropes since they were new to the workforce and didn’t have that much experience in the field, so by the end of the second week, I hand over my computer to the new guy, and then the manager called me and told me to go to the accountant to get my money.
When I went there to take my checks, I noticed that it wasn’t everything; I knew exactly what I was owed by them, and the amount they gave me wasn’t full, so I asked the accountant, and he said that the manager told him that my notice period is just 2 weeks, and after doing some calculations, that’s the exact amount that was missing: 2 weeks of my notice period.
I said no; it’s a month, and I will take every last penny of it. So I stormed to the manager’s office and told him that I want my money full, and he said that since they don’t need me anymore, and since the new recruits are good, I don’t need to come over anymore, so they’ll pay me for 2 weeks, and I may not come next week.
I said no; I will take all the money that you owe me, and I am owed a month’s worth of salary, so I will take it.
He said, ‘No, you won’t take it unless you come for the full month.’ I said it’s fine by me; I can come for the whole month.
I don’t have anything better to do. Remember how they only had 2 computers… and they hired 2 new designers, so when I came to work on the third week, there was no vacant computer for me to work on, so.
Well, the first 2 days I was there, I was just watching Netflix and having fun on my phone.
After that, I started bringing my Nintendo Switch and its charger with me and playing all day long. Yeah, they were not too happy about it.
Spent 2 weeks playing games in the office and watching Netflix and just having fun in general… The CEO came one time and found me actually sleeping on my desk!”
21. Park Poorly And Rush Me To Move My Car, So You Can Leave? I Have Time, Lady
“This happened yesterday. My partner had some serious surgery, and her family sent her some flowers. Unfortunately for us, no one knows our physical address, only our mailing address. (I do a lot of cybersecurity and investigation work, so I keep the location a pretty guarded secret.) The UPS store called us and let us know there were flowers for her.
I headed over to get them and our mail while I was there.
When I got there, most of the good spots were taken, except for one. Then I looked, and there was a fancy Lincoln parked across into the space next to it. I did not want to park down 4 more spaces or around the back of the building because this person could not be bothered to park respectfully.
I drive a very old (2005) Chrysler town and country, and I am an excellent parker. So I lined up within the lines and slowly pulled forward. Taking extra care to not scrape the offending vehicle.
I climb out and head in to pick up my packages and the flowers.
There were quite a few people inside, and I went to get the slips out of the mailboxes. While I have my back turned, I hear a female voice asking everyone who owns the blue car.
She comes up behind me and asks me if I owned the blue car.
I turned and saw an older, blonde Karen staring daggers at me with a smile on her face. I did not know for sure who she was looking for, so I responded, “Probably.” (96% chance she was looking for me, but I was in a mood.)
She says, “I can’t get into my car” (which was left running). She asks if I could move my car. I said I would when I completed my pickup. She smiles and walks outside. She looks back and sees me in line (2 or 3 back from the counter) and asks what I am doing.
She says, “I need to go; I am done.”
I reply that I am waiting to get my packages. At this point, I see the two employees look at each other with a look of fear. I know they are not afraid of me; I have been with them for decades.
I can only imagine the scene she must have done before I came in to get that kind of response.
One of the staff calls me out of line and ignores the people in front of me, snatching the package slips out of my hand.
Both of them abandon their posts and go to get my packages. Now keep in mind I was in line, waiting my turn. I did not in any way ask for them to jump to me from the people that were there first. The other customers were oddly silent as this was going on.
They grabbed my packages, forgot one, and then had to go back and look for it. When I stepped forward to sign for the flowers, Karen was standing there with her arms crossed and tapping her foot, right next to the signature pad. Like so close, I would have had to lean on her to sign.
I made a motion for her to step back, and she stared at me, then at the pad. I stepped back and told her I had 3 hours and asked if she did. Karen huffed and took a half step back. I rolled my eyes and stepped in to sign.
Karen says loudly, “I will get the flowers for you,” which she did; she snatched the vase and walked to the door. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere, and there would be a nightmare to pay if she accidentally dropped them. I signed for the rest of my packages and walked around her car to get to the back of my car.
I let her hold the flowers because the packages were large and awkward. I needed an extra hand anyway.
I loaded up and braced the flowers. She is standing directly behind her car and tapping her foot. I closed the trunk and went to get in my car.
“Looks like you can’t get in either,” she cawed because the car on the other side was kinda close, but it was within the lines. It had been there when I arrived and parked. “I got out, didn’t I?” I replied as I turned sideways and crab-walked slowly and got in my car.
Before I closed the door I heard one of the other patrons come out and ask why she hadn’t left yet. She said she was blocked in, like he had not heard the exchange inside. “You should not have parked across the lines, I guess,” he replied and walked away laughing.
I pulled out and got on the highway. She actually followed me for a long distance. I was in a company vehicle with the number on the side, so she is more than welcome to report me. I let my boss know what happened, and he laughed.
I know it may be petty, but for all of us that get blocked from parking in a spot by jerks, that feel the rules don’t apply to them, this is for you.”
20. Don't Like The Lunches I Pack For The Kids? They Can Eat Cafeteria Food Then
“Contentious divorce with my ex. Got to experience a lot of the things that everyone experiences but more so.
One episode was when she hauled me into court accusing me of starving the children, packing them moldy sandwiches, lots of other things. She even claimed that the teachers were aware of this and that they had taken to providing my kids food since I’m so neglectful.
None of it was true. And thankfully, I was able to successfully defend myself in court, but… court is nerve-wracking. Apparently, I forgot to say explicitly what the judge needed to hear me say: “No, I don’t pack moldy sandwiches for the kids.”
So, I get a court order decreeing that kids shall only be provided with fresh healthy food.
No sanctions, no punishment. Just a pretty reasonable decree to be a good parent, which is what I strive to be anyway.
But what judge doesn’t know and I do is: the chocolate sandwiches.
My kids have always been picky eaters. I was never happy about this.
But… With everything else they have gone through in the divorce, this was way down on my list of things to deal with, which means that, yes… when their mom packs them chocolate sandwiches for lunch, I would also pack them chocolate sandwiches. I’m not proud of it, but kids don’t need to see conflict between their parents.
And believe me, there have been other, bigger parenting issues to deal with that I won’t go into here.
But now I have a court order to provide healthy food. I’m sure as heck not going to go back in front of that judge and try to argue that chocolate sandwiches count as fresh healthy food.
So I send an email to my ex explaining that the kids will be eating the free school lunches from now on (note: free school lunches… which means kids were never in any danger even if her accusations had been true). But… when I tell her the kids will be eating school lunches from now on, She is very upset.
“Oh, but the kids are sensitive! There aren’t any options they will eat! How can you be so cruel? Can’t you at least provide them with chocolate protein bars?” You see, she knows what I’ve been packing them because it’s exactly what she packs them.
She didn’t want me to change, she just wanted to get me in trouble. Also, it is impossible to understate how important control is to her. Denying the kids their special chocolate sandwiches is in line with denying them fresh water. Or kidnapping them.
Like, it is incredibly important to this woman that every little wish and desire of her children be granted and to not humor them is, in her eyes, quite literally child abuse. Also, denying her control over what goes on in my house is very upsetting.
But nope, nope, and nope. Take me to court over the food I pack. I’m not packing food anymore. (Duh.)
So I email the court (not the judge) to make sure I have support for this school lunch plan. Yes, yes I do.
So the next time, I get the kids I explain to them the new plan.
They parrot back their mom’s talking points. “But can’t we make the chocolate sandwiches? We are so sensitive! There aren’t any options we can eat. Can’t you at least give us chocolate protein bars?”
Nope, nope, and nope.
Each week, I get to ask them, “How was the school lunch?” And it’s a win-win for me.
If they answer, “Not good.” I can trot out the old, “It’s good for you to try different things,” and I can enjoy knowing that I’m teaching them life skills, and if they say it was good, I can genuinely be happy for them.
And to be honest, I’m looking forward to going back to court and explaining to the judge that my ex is still packing chocolate sandwiches.”
Another User Comments:
“School lunches may not be the most quality food, but you’re doing them a favor in the long run.
I’ve heard stories of teens and adults who refuse to eat anything other than chicken nuggets and pizza because their taste buds never evolved or parents bringing McDonald’s to a huge family Thanksgiving dinner because their kids refuse to eat homemade food. Imagine growing up and getting invited to dinner by the boss or a client.” PotatoesPancakes
19. Leave A Chemical Spill Up To Me? Better Hope I Handle It Correctly
“So, this wasn’t deliberately malicious compliance, but it probably felt malicious to the people who had to deal with it, so I figured you all might enjoy it for that reason.
Years ago, I was working in manufacturing as a shift supervisor. I was on an overnight shift working 11 pm to 7 am.
At around midnight, we were in the process of a line cleaning and setup. Part of the setup involves resupplying chemicals used on the line. While getting the chemicals out to the line, one of my operators dropped a large container of chemicals (somewhere on the order of a gallon-sized jug), and about half of it spilled onto the floor.
These chemicals gave off pretty strong fumes that could be dangerous, so I had everyone leave the area where they were spilled.
I called my supervisor a little before 1 AM and, being half asleep, I think he failed to appreciate the gravity of the situation and just said, “There’s a spill response document; just follow it” and hung up.
So, I found the spill response guideline that basically said if more than a few hundred milliliters of chemical spill, evacuate the entire area and call for the spill response team.
Our company had a large facility about 20 miles away. They primarily did research there, but they also had a small fire department and chemical response team.
They weren’t staffed 24 hours, but they were on call 24 hours so could be called in. The guidelines told me to ask our plant’s security guard to “contact the company spill response team and request a chemical cleanup.” So, I did that.
Our security guard was a contractor and didn’t work directly for company security.
So his instructions were, “If you’re asked to respond to any emergency that you can’t handle yourself, contact company security” (we call them “global security”). So rather than calling for the chemical response team, the guard (unbeknownst to me) contacts global security but relays my exact request (we want the company spill response team to come out to our plant for a chemical cleanup).
Global security decides they know our policies better than we do, so they decide to call the local fire department to respond. Around 1:30 am or so, the local volunteer fire department shows up, and the first thing they ask for is the MSDS (material safety data sheet, a sheet that contains basically all the known safety and hazard information for the chemical in question).
Well, the chemical we’re working with was a patent-pending compound that our company had invented. It didn’t yet have an MSDS yet, so we could only supply them with the MSDSs of the chemicals that are used to make it. They weren’t super pleased with that.
By about 2 am, the plant safety manager had been called in, and I had the distinct impression she was pretty livid at the whole situation. Global security had also arrived, and they’re now trying to get the fire department to wait until they can get a hold of the company’s chemical spill response team.
The fire department basically winds up saying, “We’ll give you 30 minutes, and if they’re not here by then, we’re going in with full respirators, and you’re going to replace all our respirators when we’re done.”
By about 3 am, our company’s spill response team shows up and they’re able to go in and start cleaning.
I found out later that the spill response team also works as volunteer EMS and had just finished up a call around 12:30 am that night. If security had called them as soon as the spill had happened, they would have just been able to drive straight here.
Instead, they had already gone home and gone to bed when they got the call.
The fire department wound up demanding that the company start implementing regular training and coordination sessions, so they could better respond in case of another call to our plant. It took 6-12 months to coordinate and start that program.
And I heard that global security got reamed out pretty hard for not following our request for the company spill response team.
The best part for me was seeing the face of my manager when he came in (late) that morning. He looked like he had seen a ghost when he realized what had happened. He never talked about the incident with me.
I wound up staying close to 10 am to review what had happened with everyone. Our plant manager was very supportive/gracious, said I had done the right thing and appreciated me staying to review the incident with everyone.”
18. Make Me Use The Backup Camera That I "Never Use?" Fine, I'll Use It And See What Happens
“I admit that this happened some years ago. But my woman FINALLY admitted it! So here I am!
I’m military and came onto orders to move from New York to Colorado. And right before our move, we traded in my old pathfinder for a brand new Nissan Altima!
And my lady convinced me to spend an extra $6,000 for the nav, touchscreen, and camera. We had a blast on our road trip! But tragedy struck on the last day when we were in Kansas…
After stopping in Topeka, the next morning, we walk out and load up the car.
I was parked at the end of a row, and there was a car to my left, perpendicular to me. If you can picture that. But I start the car, throw it into reverse, check my mirrors, and I hear, “We paid $6,000 for this nav and screen, and you don’t even use it.”
“FINE!” So I turn my attention to the screen, and I don’t look away! I reverse and turn. The camera is supposed to beep for both motion and proximity. BUT NOTHING HAPPENED! I creamed a Mercedes that was in the perpendicular spot to my left. I mean creamed it.
I had a small scratch, but this dude had like no bumper left.
I check my mirror, instinctively at this point, and guess what was there? The freaking car.. I would have seen it if I’d been using the mirrors from the start… but NOOOOOO.
So, after a few, I swallowed my pride and went into the hotel lobby where I found the dude. He was actually the manager. And I tore the bumper off of his dad’s car, which he wasn’t supposed to have, and I know this because about 15 minutes later, the dad shows up to chew his son out.
But, we finally exchanged information, and USAA totally handled everything for me, and we made it to CO in almost one piece.
So prior to this day, she denied ever telling me that. But we were in a friendly conversation TODAY, and something came up about her friend doing almost the EXACT same thing, and I brought it up again.
She laughed and said, “Yeah, I remember that, my bad.”
Girls, let the man use his mirrors.
And guys… I did it… I finally did it… I freaking won one… This was for all of you! Thanks for sharing this with me!
Look, I know it’s my fault for driving, but her comment came at me in such a judgmental way, that my only response was to watch the camera to the most extreme!
So take that as you will.”
17. Never Taking Orders From My Brother Again
“Okay. I have two older brothers.
Eldest is a good person. The middle is a monster. He is a felon. He has tortured my family for 20 years and I have taken the brunt of the assault as the only person willing to openly challenge him.
He stole my mother’s wedding rings, my grandmother’s car, and my tv – to name a few things. My family has decided to try again to welcome him back into their lives so I followed suit.
It’s Christmas 2013 – the best holiday celebration I could never imagine.
All is well. – Middle brother walks in the door to collect presents two days after celebrations – Strike one. The middle brother drops a bag of substances when he walks in the door – Strike two. Middle brother criticizes the eldest brother’s renovations and tells my grandmother she wasted her money.
– Strike three.
In the car on the way home. Decide it is best to go back into town together so it saves someone a trip. Middle brother asks me for my passport. I say “no I can’t do that”. Middle brother concocts a magical story where I have borrowed his ID to get into clubs when I was a teenager.
Lies. I did not and would not. He says he needs it to get into a party. He’s 300lbs and 35 and would never be carded under any circumstances.
Middle brother differs from his standard method of persuasion and starts yelling and is getting increasingly loud and argumentative.
I tell him that it is illegal and that it would be very bad for him if he gets caught.
There’s a line somewhere between asking and demanding something of someone – he crosses it. My heart races like it used to when I was a boy.
When he used to follow my friends and me and beat the life out of us with his friends. I remember him pulling me out of a lake where I almost drowned.
But it’s not him anymore. The brother I knew is gone and there’s a total stranger directly behind me demanding the symbol of my liberty.
Strike freaking four. I tell him that if he mentions my passport again on the ride home, I will crane the steering wheel into a snowbank and beat him within an inch of his life.
I hear ‘Give me your passport’ in the voice of a man I don’t know, from a face I don’t recognize.
B***d and adrenaline surge from my heart faster and more rapidly than I have ever felt. We pull into a parking lot, I open my door and wait patiently until that jerk works up the courage to fight me.
He steps out and yells something I don’t hear.
I tell him that I’ll give him one more chance to get back in the car without saying a word about my passport ever again. He says ‘passport’ with a wily grin and expects me to be the same cowering boy that I used to be.
The same kid who loved him and adored him and wanted nothing else but to be just like him.
I connect the quickest and hardest fist I’ve ever thrown against another person directly onto his chin.
If you’re reading this, middle brother – Screw you.”
16. Sorry, I'm Not Allowed To Work Outside Of My Contractual Hours
“A couple of years ago, I had a job doing some translating. The job was simple, easy, and boring, but because I had a skill set that was rare and necessary for the job, they needed me more than I needed them.
Management was kinda dumb and unhelpful.
The kind of managers who would try to write you up for going to the toilet too many times a day or for taking 1 minute longer on your lunch break because “a queue to get past security isn’t a good enough excuse; you need to be back 5 minutes before your lunch ends.” A co-worker of mine was reprimanded by management for doing his work too quickly – when he asked what concerns about the quality they had, they told him that it makes everyone else look like they’re slacking which looks bad to the company who outsourced us.
So, basically, management just wanted everyone to look busy.
During my time there, I got diagnosed with a chronic illness that meant I could no longer work my original contractual hours of 40 hours a week, so instead, I would sign a new contract stipulating that I would work Monday through Wednesday, 9-5.
They were very reluctant to do this, and no one else was able to get such an adjustment, but since they couldn’t find anyone who spoke my language, they were in a pickle.
This worked out to be beneficial for both of us; I got my work done a lot faster now that I wasn’t chronically worn down, and the company didn’t lose my skills.
One day, I received a letter from a clinic I had been referred to. I was no longer on the waiting list, and they would be able to see me for my initial appointment the following week on a Tuesday. Great, I thought. I will just let management know.
So, the next day, I speak to my manager.
Me: Hey, I’ve got a clinic appointment come through, and it’s on Tuesday. I don’t know how long it will last, and it’s an hour’s drive from work, so I was thinking if I could have this Tuesday off and make up the hours on Thursday.
They asked for some time to get back to me, and when I followed them up on it the next day, they told me I was only allowed to work my contractual hours. That I would have to take my holiday time off or an unpaid time off, but since it was such short notice, they couldn’t approve it and I “should be more careful with my planning in the future.”
The thing is, I had been on this waiting list for a couple of months, and the only appointments they give for the initial one is short notice. I would value my health over work any day, so I shrugged and said ok.
I called in sick on that Tuesday citing my chronic illness, went to my clinic, and got a doctor’s note from my GP.
The following day, I was immediately called into a meeting. They accused me of skipping work, calling in a fake sickness, and threatened me with a disciplinary.
I handed them my sick note, with my doctor explaining that my illness is chronic and prone to flare-ups.
He also included his personal opinion that it’s a reasonable adjustment to be able to attend any medical appointments necessary for managing my disability.
There was a lot of back and forth with them accusing me of faking it, I refused to sign any disciplinary forms, and eventually, I was asked to go back to my desk while they discussed it with higher management.
Some time goes by and I’m invited back into the meeting room.
Manager: We’ve come to the conclusion that your absence was valid, and we will accept this sick note from your doctor; however, we would ask that you make up the hours that you missed this Thursday.
Me: I’m pleased to hear that, but unfortunately, I will not be able to work this Thursday as I have been informed that I’m not allowed to work outside my contractual hours.
After that the meeting was pretty much over, management wasn’t happy, but I got my sick pay and didn’t work that Thursday.
I stuck it out for a couple more weeks, but management was super grating. When I handed in my notice they begged me to stay, offered me a significant pay raise – more than what my next job was offering me – but working with tedious management just wasn’t worth it, and I had great fun telling them that.”
15. Want Old Fries Instead Of Waiting For Fresh Ones? Your Wish Is My Command
“I worked at a very popular burger fast food restaurant about 12 years ago as a young teenager. One of those restaurants is known for being very fast and calculated with thin, delicious fries.
It was a slow-ish evening, one where there doesn’t seem to be a lot of clients, but things are still moving non-stop at a good pace, and there isn’t any time to mess around.
This is kind of a key element because it does appear like the restaurant is not busy for a client, but still, the food is coming out fast, especially since the drive-thru was busy.
Come in a couple in their mid or late 20s with an air of superiority you often see from clients ordering cheap fast food.
They come to me, and I take their order. Classic order of 2 trios. But then, before I can make them pay, the man points to my right and proclaims “I want those fries!”
I look to my right and see two done batches hanging above the frying oil.
There are two things wrong with his request. First, there is a lot of orders going around, and fries are always served last because you want to serve them the freshest. These would be old by the time his burger is ready. Second, these fries should never hang above the oil, and I don’t quite remember why, but I know they wouldn’t be as good that way.
So I look back at him and try to tell him that he would get fresher fries than these, but I can’t say a word about the subject; he doesn’t let me talk and insist he wants those and none others; he wants fresh fries.
Well, cue malicious compliance, I guess? I don’t insist and before making them pay, I go to the fries station, pick up the hanging fries, drop them in the pan-thing, add salt, toss them around, pick up the paper fries holder, make two servings, put them in the far back of the rack where they stand upright and stay hot.
I then turned around to my coworkers and say loudly, “The fries at the back are for my order!”
This was the usual procedure for “no salt fries” and so I knew none of my coworkers would serve them accidentally. They were also perfectly positioned for my clients to watch them.
I then go back to making them pay, making their drinks, taking another order while waiting for their burgers.
As you can expect now, by the time their burger comes up in the sandwich drop, one or two more batches of fries had been fried and served while their two servings were safely waiting at the back, getting old for fast food fries.
I pick up their burgers, put them next to their drinks, and happily pick up those fries and put them right next to the burger.
Of course, he said nothing. She didn’t even look my way. He didn’t look up at my face, but I could see he was red and angry.
But he knew there was nothing he could say.
Even my coworker asked me later why I had served them those fries, and she couldn’t help but laugh with me once they were gone when I told her the whole story.”
14. Think You Can Micromanage Me? You Just Doubled My Vacation Time
“I took a new job within my company that was 100% work from home, which I was pumped about despite a 20% pay cut. I got an awesome new boss, I’m now a manager myself, I have a healthier working environment, it is a day shift only job, and I didn’t have to make my 100-mile round trip commute every working day in a car that gets awful gas mileage.
All that, plus, I get to work the office shifts – office personnel only work Monday through Thursday but 10 hours per day, so we get three day weekends every week – it’s been that way since before I was hired. All-around win despite less pay.
All good things must come to an end, though. I can do my job 100% remote 100% of the time, but being on-site makes 25% of it easier. My department started coming to work for the 25% of our job that really should be done on-site. I have no qualms with that and am happy to be back on site for that since it makes my life easier.
That was the status quo for a few months…
My company elected to set guidelines for working from home (or remotely) as an option for 50% of the time going forward. This will be the new standard as our company has “grown culturally and modernized.” My department director said these company standards were on a case-by-case basis, but the director was going to enforce the new 50% maximum remote work standard for everyone unless there are extreme circumstances.
It was a completely arbitrary decision, and I am convinced was made only to micromanage employees and empower old traditional style managers especially since my department can do 75% of our work from home, extremely efficiently and effectively.
My malicious compliance comes in with my vacation hours and realizing how I can double my destination vacations.
Soon after the new work from home rules were announced, and it was communicated that they would be stringently enforced on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I canceled all my vacation on Mondays and Thursdays and rescheduled all those canceled days on Tuesdays and Wednesdays following or preceding my already scheduled vacations.
I get nearly five weeks of vacation per year plus comp time for anything worked over 40 hours. My new supervisor who is an awesome supervisor approved all the changes I made the same day. I took off every day I was required to be on-site and plan on working remotely on Mondays and Thursdays while extending all four of my week-long destination vacations already scheduled by one week each.
I now have ten weeks of vacation (combined with holidays and comp days) scheduled away from home in 2021 since earlier this year was so busy, and I haven’t taken much yet. I still have to work on Mondays and Thursdays, but it is a lot more fun to work from the beach or mountains or jungle or desert or while visiting family for four out of 16 days than only be in a given place for 8 days.
(Travel on Friday since I already get those off, plus an extra Friday I don’t have to take vacation for, plus an extra weekend). Working Mondays and Thursdays also helps me keep up and avoid falling behind which lets me avoid anxiety on vacation that comes with not working and staying on top of stuff.
(Yes, I know I’m broken for not being able to enjoy time off).”
13. It's In My Contract? Alright Then!
Let’s listen to the contract, then.
“So a few years back while I was at university, I took a job over the summer with a popular nightclub chain. Most of the other staff were great, but the management was just awful.
All they wanted to do was sit in their offices doing bad things all night and delegate all their work to underpaid and under-appreciated “supervisors” who basically ran everything for them.
To give you some idea of just how awful they were, they had a “supervisor” in charge of stock + storage who had warned them repeatedly that they needed to store bottles in a fridge, but they refused because they thought it was a waste to pay for the electricity.
One night, one of the bar staff opened an expensive bottle for a customer, and it just went everywhere. The supervisor tried telling the shift manager what the problem was, but instead of fixing it, the manager sent the bar staff member home without pay and instituted a new policy that only supervisors could open bottles from then on.
Anyway, fast forward to the end of summer, and I am 100% done with this job. They treated their staff like trash, made them arrange their own cover if they wanted to call in sick (for any reason at all – once I got a call from a colleague who was lying in A&E asking if I could cover his shift that night), and my girl had just recently quit because she was being harassed by one of the managers, and the rest of them refused to do anything about it because he was the one who supplied their bad habit.
Anyway, I wanted to be professional when I left, so I discussed my intention to leave with the “supervisor” in charge of hiring staff and sorting out contracts, etc., who advised me that because I’d worked there for less than 6 months, I didn’t have to give them 2 weeks notice to quit, I could just leave.
Which I did. Nobody said anything at the time, so I figured that was that.
Cut to Saturday night (a few days later), and around the time I would have usually started work, I got a call from one of the managers asking where I was.
I politely explained that I’d quit earlier that week, and she EXPLODED. Started screaming about how I owed them for giving me a job, and if I didn’t come into work in the next 15 minutes, then she’d make sure I never worked again.
I stuck to my guns and explained what I discussed with the supervisor earlier, and this manager told me that the supervisor “had her head up her butt” and “didn’t know what she was talking about.” (For the record, I later checked my contract, and the supervisor and I were right.) Anyway, I wanted the conversation to end and had a bit of a lightbulb moment, so I agreed that I would honor the wording of my contract and work for the next two weeks.
The manager calmed down and smugly told me she expected to see me shortly. What she clearly didn’t realize (probably because she had never even looked at our contracts) was that we were all employed on a zero-hours basis (i.e., our contract specified that we only had to work a minimum of zero hours per week – many companies in the UK do this, so they can save funds when the business is quiet by not giving their staff any shifts).
I went back to my Netflix binge, and sure enough, 15 minutes later, I got another call demanding to know where I was. I calmly explained that, as per her request, I would be honoring my contract by working my contracted number of hours that week – zero.
At first, there was just silence. This was followed by some of the worst language I’ve ever heard to this day and threats saying I was “finished” in this town and that she “knew people, important people, who would make my life miserable.” I just hung up the phone and went back to my evening.
Nothing ever did come of it, though. I graduated the next year and moved away.
Note – Although, initially, I felt bad for leaving my colleagues short-staffed, I caught up with some of them a bit later and found out that the general manager (the other manager’s boss) had made the other manager work behind the bar for a few hours that night until they could get one of the off duty staff to come in and cover, so she could get back to sitting in her office and doing nothing – apparently, she did NOT enjoy the experience!”
12. Come Up With A Stupid Lunch Policy To Please The Office Cry Baby? I'll Follow It To The Letter
“Many years ago, I worked in back-office support in a large office with lots of departments.
Generally speaking, we had core hours, especially for lunch. Core lunch hours were between 12-2, meaning you had to take your lunch sometime between 12-2.
Different departments had different rules for lunch depending on their needs. For example, the call center had a strict rota for when people could take their lunch since they needed constant phone cover.
However, I was in back-office support. Things were a lot more relaxed because we rarely took phone calls. Most of our work came in the form of tickets and tasks logged through our system, and emails from other departments with general queries. The only requirement was that at least one manager and 2 members of staff had to be there at all times in case a colleague from another department needed to see us, or in an emergency, call us.
So, generally, we could take our lunch anytime we wanted as long as it was between 12-2. There was no policy telling us when to take our lunch aside from the one I already mentioned. I would always take my lunch at 12:28. The reason was I actually wanted to take it at 12:30, but one of our call centers was the floor above us, and they stampeded down the stairs at 12:30.
I had been in an accident some years ago that gave me issues with my back and hips, so I could be a little unsteady on the stairs, so I left at 12:28, so I could avoid the call center stampede. I suppose I could have gone at 12, but the staff canteen was never set up and never had food ready at 12, hence why I left at 12:28.
Now, I always restarted work at exactly 1:28, sometimes a few minutes earlier. An hour was far too long for me, so I was often back at my desk nursing a coffee while scrolling through my phone (which we were allowed to do as long as we were on break) by around 1 pm as well.
However, if a colleague came to me and asked for help, I always helped and just added the time I was helping them to my lunch. So if I spent 10 minutes helping a colleague, I’d come back at 1:38. All this would be logged in our timesheet.
I wasn’t doing anything outside of policy – we were allowed to do this.
Anyway, one of my colleagues had obviously noticed. Let’s call her Mindy. Mindy considered herself the queen bee of the office. Everything had to be done her way, she was perfect, and she always tattled on people for petty stuff.
Like that one of our colleagues used too many staples or that colleagues were literally a few minutes late or took too many pee breaks (she literally had a tally of how many drinks and pee breaks everyone took, so she could tattle). She even once tried to tattle and say one of my colleagues came in intoxicated, and she could smell it on her breath.
What she could smell was Lemsip and cold meds – the colleague she was tattling on had a cold. Unfortunately, Mindy was also our manager’s favorite employee, so she got away with a lot.
So she tattles to our manager about how I’m always leaving for lunch 2 minutes early and yet often come back late.
My manager tears me a new one for this. I explain to him that the times I come back late are when I’ve helped a colleague, and he should see it logged on the sheet. I also explain why I leave at 12:28. He then says, ‘Yes, well, whether it’s two minutes or not, we have core hours in this office.’ I say, yeah, 12-2.
I can take my lunch any time between 12-2. 12:28 is within those core hours. So he then tried to say no and that in our department, we have a policy of 12:30-1:30 to make sure enough people are in the department.
I say I’ve never heard of this policy; this has never been the case, but he brushes me off and says, ‘You take your lunch at 12:30 and come back at 1:30.
You don’t deal with any queries or anything that will delay you. Just take your lunch on time and come back on time. No exceptions.’
Okay, then. That’s exactly what I’ll do. No matter what I am doing, even if I’m in the middle of a task, I get up and go to lunch.
Even if I am at my desk and a colleague comes to me, I tell them I am on lunch and to come back later. Then surprise, surprise, Mindy comes along with an ‘urgent’ query at 1:10.
I look her dead in the eye and say ‘Sorry, I’m on lunch.’
She storms off to our manager to tattle on me. I get called into his office because she had lodged a complaint against me for ‘bullying’ her and being ‘uncooperative’. Mindy is in the office, with my manager acting as a mediator. He asks why I refused to help her.
She’s grinning maliciously with her trademark ‘You’re going to get it’ face.
‘She spoke to me at 1:10. I had 20 minutes left of lunch. You said the policy is lunch 12:30-1:30, no exceptions.’ I said, smiling.
Mindy looked like she wanted to slap me and my manager was furious but knew he couldn’t do or say anything because that was what he said.
Eventually, the manager ended up being promoted and moved to another department. Our new manager had no patience for Mindy’s excessive tattling and at one point shouted at her, ‘This isn’t primary school, and I’m not your teacher. Go back to your desk and focus on your own work instead of everyone else!’
The new manager also rescinded the ‘no exceptions’ nonsense policy my manager had made on the spot and as long as we came back on time and didn’t leave the department understaffed, she couldn’t care less when we took our lunch.”
11. Wrongfully Charge Me Another Day For Renting A Car? I'll Give The Car Back At The Last Minute
Sounds fair, right?
“I rented a car for five weeks while my car was being repaired from a car accident.
The rental company had a couple of great policies- no cleaning fee no matter how gross the car was and unlimited miles. Ideal for me; I live in the country, and going anywhere is a drive.
When my car was finally scheduled to be finished (a Monday evening), I called the rental car company on Sunday.
Asked about return details. They said the return time would be 5:30 pm Monday, but I could just leave it at the shop and leave the keys in the shop’s dropbox. I said sure, and the next night I went, got my car, and left keys in the box.
Got in my car, and the check engine light is on. Great. Staff says to come back tomorrow and that they will fix it. I go home thinking that I will be sitting at the shop all Tuesday because I have no other ride.
Tuesday morning, I wake up at 7 am to the rental car company very angry and saying that they can’t get into the dropbox and that the shop doesn’t open till 9.
I tell them I just did what they said to do. They told me that they would be charging me an extra day. At that, I’m furious. I leave my house later and arrive at the ship at 8:50. The rental car guys aren’t there. I sit around, and the shop opens.
I grab the rental keys and give them my car. Right on time, the rental car guys appear. They demand the keys, and I ask if I’m still getting charged for an extra day. One guy is inspecting the car while the other tells me that, yes, I’m getting charged an extra day.
The guy inspecting it comes over and says the car looks good and that it should be ready to rent out immediately. I had cleaned it the day before because I didn’t want to be a jerk. Well, I refuse to give him the keys.
“Since I’m getting charged an extra day, that means it’s my car until 5:30 today, right?” At that, he gets nervous. He says they need the car back. “I will give you the keys now if you don’t charge me an extra day. But if I’m charged an extra day, I’m using it.” He refuses to bend, so I leave.
At this point, I’m petty and angry. So I go straight home. I own a farm, and it has been raining like mad lately. I get to work. By the time 10 am rolls around, the car is COVERED in mud. Like, this black car looks painted brown.
I didn’t trash the inside because I’m not that petty. I hop in the car and drive to the rental place. I’m pretty covered in mud at this point. I had put trash bags on the front seat to limit it. I walk into the rental place looking like I fell into a mud pit.
The guy who refused to cancel the charge looks horrified. I tell them, “This car is great for mudding! I’m gonna go mudding for the rest of the day. Just swinging by to ask where to put the keys at 5:30.” I’m all smiles and dripping sweetness.
I watch the life leave him, his shoulders slump, and he says if I return the car now, they will cancel the charge because they need to rent out the car. I give them the keys and take an Uber to the shop, where my car is ready.
No cleaning fee and no extra day charge. Ha!
Alright, might as well address the few things.
The Uber… I called the Uber after I walked out of the rental car place. It took half an hour to arrive. I had brought extra trash bags, so I stripped down a bit (shorts and undershirt) and put on 2 trash bags that I cut holes in.
Put my clothes in a bag. Let the mud on my exposed body parts flake off. Did I look absolutely ridiculous? Yes. Did I get mud in some poor stranger’s car? No.
I didn’t want to actually ruin the day for some kid getting minimum wage.
That’s why I only mudded the outside. That’s a pretty easy clean. I didn’t wanna wreck anyone’s day, even the jerk that charged me. My goal was to make the car messy and shocking enough to get them to not charge me because they were desperate to get it back.
“If the outside is that bad, what did he do to the inside?”
The car was 91 freaking dollars a day (the first 3 weeks, it was $39 a da,y and then went up for the last 2 weeks to $91), and my insurance did not cover it. I was not willing to let 91 bucks slide.
The keys were left at the auto shop, in the auto shop’s key box. That key box was not open at 7 am when the rental car company went to get the car. When I went around 9 am to drop my car off, the auto shop opened the box for me and gave me the rental car keys.
The rental car people appeared a few minutes later.”
10. Don't Want To Help With The Group Project? Get A Failing Grade, Then
If you don’t do the work, then you don’t get the credit.
“I recently moved to a new state halfway through my freshman year. I came in at the sweet moment of starting a new project based on a book.
The project was supposed to be divided amongst my partners I did not know. My two partners, we will call Frank and Shadynasty, were always zoned out. Frank would be too busy listening to his 2010 era music with Naruto music videos, and Shadynasty too busy on her phone.
Once we were given our books, and the deadline for the project was set, I immediately took charge and set up roles since nobody wanted to help. It was annoying being new to the school and having to have such nonsense started. The deadline for the book to be read was reached. I had read the book.
I then asked Frank and Shadynasty. I got basically the same answer from both of them. A confused ‘yeah’.
Whatever. I then told them I’ll do the first 3 slides, Frank would do the next 2, and Shadynasty would do her 1. Frank lived in my neighborhood.
When we got off the bus I asked if he had finished his part of the presentation. He bolts it home.
Whatever. I ask Shadynasty the next day if she has her part done and she says ‘I forgot to sorry.’ I then realized my group mates were complete morons and I’d have to solo this project.
Once I had completed it and it was time to present it, I handed out note cards with a script. They both were blank.
The first slide was the title slide and was supposed to have all our names, it only had mine. I had completed my 3 slides and it was Frank’s turn to present.
The rubric stated you may not read off the board. He could not figure out what to say so I did it.
Then came Shadynasty’s slide. Her slide wasn’t supposed to have much of a script other than ‘and here is the song that matches this scene in the book’ and clicks on it.
Like Frank, she stands there clueless. I come back and finish her part.
Then came the questions asked by the teacher. She had separate questions for each group. She would ask 1 question per person. Frank and Shadynasty both could not answer their questions. I answered all three.
I ended up with a 97 and my group mates both got 0s. They still passed the class though.”
9. Get Rid Of My Vacation? Enjoy Replacing Me
“I worked at a company that gave out exorbitant amounts of vacation. Anyone who worked there for 25+ years received 8 weeks of vacation and 2 weeks of personal time. This was a family-owned company but rather large. We ran 3 shifts totaling 250+ people.
Enter Jimmy. Jimmy was a grizzled, old man, he started at the company when he was just 20, now he was 63 and gave absolutely zero care.
Jimmy also knew how to make a specific part for our product, and so did one other higher up in the office.
One day, the plant owner comes out and announces he’s selling to a corporation. He’s older and ready to retire. He promises that there will be very little change and wishes us all well.
The new company comes in and immediately goes after many of the great benefits we had. The first thing they do is cut everyone’s max vacation down to 4 weeks, and do completely away with personal time. Anyone who’s maxed out had until December 31st of that year to use it up, and they wouldn’t pay it out.
They then go into the office and clean house, firing anyone who’s close to retirement. Including Jimmy’s backup.
But they also do away with one very important rule. You no longer have to get vacation approved; you can just call in and take it.
Jimmy is livid, and they know it.
They realize he’s the only one in the building that can do his job now. So they hire a new kid for him to train, most likely to permanently replace Jimmy. So Jimmy does what anyone would do. He calls in the first training day for the new hire and lets us know he’s going to use all of his PTO at once and promptly takes 10 weeks off.
We had a back stock of parts he had made, so it wasn’t too unnerving. But for 10 weeks, Jimmy went and applied to other jobs, found one, and started.
Fast forward 10 weeks, it’s the day Jimmy is supposed to return. He doesn’t. For two days, they try calling him and even go to his house.
He’s nowhere to be found. Finally, on day three, he calls and resigns, and they lose their marbles. The parts he makes are specialized and patented by the original founder; you can’t just hire someone off the street to make them. What eventually happened was they had to contract the original owner to come in and teach some new hires how to make them, and when he found out what all they had done, it made him so mad.
The last I heard, he charged them a 7 figure contract to teach them how to produce the parts, and they had to pony up or close down.
The moral of the story: don’t mess with people’s vacation time.”
Another User Comments:
“At my previous employer, they did something similar: MESSING WITH PEOPLE’S VACATION, except it was announced mid-year in an all-employee meeting.
The previous policy was an employee could roll over 120 hours (way too high in my opinion), mind you, new employees start with 160 hours and could work up to 280 hours by year 20.
Well, that all changed. During this meeting, vacation was now capped at 240 hours, 15-year mark (those higher that were grandfathered in).
The big kicker was by the end of the year, you could only roll over 40 hours, and by next year (18 months out), it would be ZERO hours rollover. There was freaking pandemonium, our department alone (Engineering, New Product Development) had to burn an additional 560 hours (7 people x 80 hours) of vacation.
…NEEDLESS to say, the project fell behind schedule and managers were angry. But there was nothing they could do because the company vacation policy stated that employees only needed to have vacation approved if out of office for more than 10 consecutive business days.
ENTIRE DEPARTMENTS would take off for a week and just be gone – it was bananas.
Edit: I wanted to clarify why I thought 3 weeks of rollover was too much. As a seasoned salary employee, I was earning 6 weeks of PTO and carry over 3 weeks – so every year, I was out of the office about 12% of the time between PTO and paid holidays.
People need to get away from work and enjoy life; co-workers from Europe (I work in USA) would normally take 6-week holidays/vacation and not blink an eye. I ask for more than 10 days in a row off, and people think I am out of my mind.” xFactor6060
8. Betray Me? I'll Tamper With Your After Shave
“Living with a guy from the age of 19, I was head over heels. He was a little older than me, and a drummer. As a teenager, I was bowled over and in love, and it was only a couple of months after we met that I moved in with him.
We’ll call him PBB.
I really, really loved him. Even when he told me he was still in love with his ex and would insist I should do the housework and shopping and cooking, even though we both worked full time, because it was his house, he earned more than me, and I didn’t pay any rent (all of my wages went into his bank account in his name).
In case you missed it, I loved him, I really did, even when he’d started to go out and happen to iron his own shirt. Wearing aftershave. Even when he went out ‘For a couple with the guys’ then stumble in the bedroom at 3 am, hardly able to stand … His excuse?
‘Someone had spiked his drink.’
I even still loved him when he came in at 3 am, with his ironed shirt all creased, aftershave on, and with a hickey glowing from his neck …His excuse? ‘My buddy Steve did it to me for a laugh.’
I moved into the spare room in protest, surely he would come in, apologize, change his ways, promise not to go out as often, not come back as intoxicated?
Nope. This stalemate went on for 2 months, I still loved him, but moved out to my parent’s house at the age of 25. I just moved a few things out with me, just my cassette stereo (lol, a couple of decades-old this story) and my clothes.
I even left my beloved cat behind, on the agreement when I get my own place I can come back and reclaim him.
For some reason he let me keep a key. I realized only a couple of days later I had forgotten the lead for my boom box.
I knew he was going to be out with the guys at the time I was driving back from work, so deliberately timed it when he wasn’t at home.
Pre mobile phones, I’m not having the pain of speaking to him, too much, I love him.
In and out, job done.
I walk in, something is wrong. The house is clean.
Wait, what’s this on the mantlepiece? A generic love card, no occasion but you know the kind a la Roger The Rabbit ‘How much do I love you? Let me count the ways!’ Inside was neat flowery writing ‘Dear PBB, I love you so much, from mysterious woman.’
Slowly, I see the cassette answerphone machine is flashing with a message.
My curiosity turbocharges me over there. Oh, little red flashing light, what can you tell me? The female voice purrs ‘Oh, PBB, I had such a lovely night last night, I can’t wait to do it again soon!’
Looking around the room, two glasses. By this time my head is like a volcano. I run upstairs to the room and there’s a freaking WEDDING RING next to his side of the bed!
I am shuddering, crying, drive back to my parent’s house in bits.
I walk in the door, sobbing so hard and loud my Mom asked if I had been hurt… I couldn’t talk for the snot bubbles of anguish. Why doesn’t he love me?
We talk, and I want revenge, but more than petty. I plot.
I plan. I think of sewing prawns into the hems of his curtains. Too much hassle. Cutting his clothes up? Not my style. I am too subtle for that. I want long-range passive revenge.
Dad got a van. We went the next day (Saturday) with the cat basket.
Everything that I had bought and left behind I was going to take. Only things that were mine. That was the only rule.
Side note: PBB used to half-work every Saturday at a music store in town, talking drums and stuff. He was screwing the owner’s sister.
I recognized her voice and name from the love card.
So, I took the washing machine I had bought 3 months earlier – did I mention he was a drummer – I replaced it with a washboard and thimbles he used for percussion.
I took the tin of Christmas ham that was out of date in the cupboard.
I took the cutlery as it was Eternal Beau and I bought it from Argos.
I took the teabags, as I had bought the last lot.
I took the double bed and mattress, and I took my cat.
Just before we left, I told Dad to sit in the van, I had my own special goodbye to say.
The previous night I had found every single printed photo of his face. This took an hour, before camera phones, etc, I cut them all up and ripped them into quarters.
I hid handfuls under carpets, inside vases with dried flowers, behind picture frames, under ornaments, back of cupboards, inside the freezer ice cube tray, and behind the bath panel.
Nothing obvious to the eye.
Whilst I was in the bathroom, I opened the cabinet and saw his precious Joop aftershave. I crouched over the toilet, peed in it, and put the top back on.
Finally, I took the cassette recording from the answering machine, stopped off on the way home at a telephone booth, rang the music store where he always hung out on a Saturday, asked to speak to him, and said in a calm, controlled voice:
‘You have one week to tell her man. Or I do,’ and hung up.
I sold the bed the same day to a guy down the pub, sold the washing machine cut price to an elderly neighbor, and resettled my cat into my parent’s home (he loved it there).
I had a phone call at 3 am when he got home to see he had no bed or washing machine and spat down the phone that I was an ‘Evil vitreous witch.’ When I got up in the morning I had to get the dictionary out as it was pre-Google and I had no idea what vitreous meant.
3 months later part 2 came into play. I started to call his friends, pretend I was intoxicated, giggle and confess I had peed in his aftershave, so eventually, word got out what I had done, but it was too late by then.”
7. Sure, I'll "Fix" Corporate's Error
“Before I can explain exactly what I did, I have to explain the system that was being used. I was a stocker at an office supply store, and every morning we received a computer-generated list of items that needed to be taken out of storage and put on the shelf.
This list was generated by scanning 1: the number of a particular item that should be on a shelf, and 2: the amount of that item that we have in stock vs the amount in storage. So if 10 should fit on the shelf, and our system says we have 15 in stock with 10 in storage, the list would print saying I need to put 5 out.
There are two very important things to note with this system. The first is that the only way the system had of grading our completion was by detecting if an item was deleted from the store inventory. The second is that each store was graded on how closely they followed the list, by percentage.
If the list said 50 items needed to go out and we managed to get 40 out, we got 80%. Corporate expected 90% compliance daily, so I’d hear from my manager if we didn’t hit that.
Now comes the fun part. To start, in a twist that was 100% unrelated to this issue, I had just put in my two weeks notice, so I had nothing to lose.
Immediately after that, about a month before back to school season began, corporate screwed up and registered that all of our back to school displays were already out. We hadn’t even received these displays, or any information about them because it was so early, there was no way they could be out.
Suddenly, the system thought we had thousands of extra displays for school supplies like pencils and binders. We had already received all of that product, and it was sitting in storage, so now that the system issue said we had displays the fill list said they needed to be filled.
I explained to my store manager what happened, and she said there’s absolutely no way corporate would make that mistake, I must be doing something wrong. I called local stores and spoke with their store managers, all agreed with me and said their list compliance percentages are plummeting.
I told my store manager, and she repeated the same line. I printed off a list of the extremely low compliance percentages in our district and showed it to my manager. She said they must be doing something wrong too.
Finally, I’d had enough of her whining.
So for my last 10 or so days there, whenever this list printed saying we needed to fill several hundred items from storage, I just deleted those items from storage. On my second to last day, my store manager gave me a hearty congratulations on solving the issue and told me how much better we’re doing than all the other stores.
By the time the displays came out for real, I was gone. I was told by my former coworkers that the store was absolute chaos because a few thousand items just didn’t exist in our system, and they had to completely go through the entire store’s inventory to get it all fixed. Several years later, I still find it hilarious how proud my manager was that I had solved the issue.”
6. Want Coffee Without Any Coffee? Um, Sure
“Years ago, I worked for the big Canadian coffee and donut shop, mostly working the evening shift. If you aren’t familiar with a Canadian brand coffee shop, the cream and sugar are dispensed by a machine that is calibrated to an amount determined by corporate.
If you are used to ordering at the fancy green place, or the running donut place, the number of sugar and creams you order may need to change depending on how much you actually want.
One night, we had these 3 bikers come to the drive-in, and you could tell they had been on the road for a while.
Their ringleader was your stereotypical biker; tall, wide shoulders, big beard, covered in leather. His friends were shorter, but otherwise still had the whole tough but tired look going on.
My coworker was in the back working soup and sandwich, but it’s only three people, and it’s been a slow night.
No worries. Just need to get these tired boys some caffeine and wish them a good night.
Ringleader: I want an extra-large 12 and 12.
Me: Are you sur…
Ringleader: Did I stutter?
Me: Okay, but that’s only…
Friend 1: Did he stutter!?
No. No, he did not… So off I went to make him exactly what he asked for.
Grabbed a cup and put it under the sugar dispenser while I pressed the times 3 button 4 times. 12 XL shots of sugar. Then I went over to the cream dispenser and did the same thing. Now, fun fact. The cream and sugars are measured to dispense 1/12 of the cup size you are selecting.
So by the time all 12 shots of creamer were dispensed, the cup was basically full.
I stirred the creamy sugar mixture around before I poured an itty bitty splash of coffee in his cup, just enough to bring it up to the safety line on the cup.
I tried asking him if he wanted me to heat it up or anything, but I basically got the same exact run-around from him and his friend.
Obviously, the guy knew what he wanted, and he didn’t need me to tell him what he was ordering.
They grabbed the rest of their order and drove out into the night.
Now, you would think that was the end of the story.
The big angry biker man got his nasty sugar cream drink and left me sitting there wondering if the rest of the world had been drinking their coffee wrong this entire time.
But no, I was lucky to be working the next afternoon when he came back in! Mr. Ringleader came back in all by himself the next day and shuffled up to the counter. I could tell he must have been embarrassed because his voice was a lot softer this time; he knew he messed up.
The glorious aftermath is that he apologized and confirmed that the drink had been utterly disgusting.
Turns out, he was used to ordering from the fancy green coffee place, and they use way smaller measurements for their cream and sugar. Once I knew where he was used to ordering from, I made him the approximately same drink using our measurements (roughly a triple-triple) and sent him on his way.
I only wish I could have seen his face when he took that first sip.”
5. Make Things Harder On Yourself? I Won't Stop You
Since you’ve got extra time…
“A customer called in. (Names used have been changed for privacy). “I’m trying to place an order, and it isn’t going through! All my information is correct.”
I asked him for the last 4 of the card he was using and the name on the card.
He told me the last 4, and the name was Kendrick. After reviewing my system, I found the attempts under the name Rick and asked if he is entering Rick, and he said no.
So I advised, “Well, on my end, it shows you are and that the billing address you entered is not the address your bank has attached to the card.
This must match, or they’ll think it’s fraud.”
Customer: “It is right; they have my Po Box and my physical.”
I advised him he needs to enter his physical address for billing (he was entering his Po Box only), and it will finally go through and process.
Rather than taking 5 seconds to do that and processing the order, he goes, “Can you just do it for me?”
Me, annoyed as ever, advises him, “I want to ensure you don’t have this issue in the future when ordering online and want to show you how it works.”
Customer: “I already tried it all week and all day today.”
Me: “Did you try it with your physical address in the billing on any of those attempts?”
Customer: “No, I didn’t.”
Me: “Well, that is why it wasn’t working, sir. If you will just take a moment to update it, it will finally go through.”
He continued to argue, so I finally said, “If you seriously don’t want to, then I will try it on my end.” He says okay.
So instead of updating his address and placing the order in less than a minute, he now gets to take extra steps and sit on the phone longer.
I know it’s stupid to be irritated over, but DANG. I run into this ALL the time, and it’s a very, very easy fix. So now I follow policy and “take care of him.” Little do they know, he’s gonna have to try again later himself, so he can learn how to order online properly.
I told him I needed him to find me the item numbers. I know how to explain where to find the item numbers but chose to let him figure it out himself. He finds them after a couple of minutes, I get his bag together and give him his total.
He gives me his card information, and BOOM, his card gets declined. I advised him to contact his bank, then update his billing address as advised before, and it will go through. (Mind you, I could have asked him for the correct billing zip code, and the order might have gone through, but forget it).
I tried to make it easy on him, but he wanted to try and be lazy, which backfired and ended up in more work for him. You called me for help, so next time, take my advice.”
Another User Comments:
“Wait, so someone called up claiming to be Rick and only knew their PO Box, and you supplied their home address?
Sounds like this could have been a phishing attempt.” Smooth_Fee
4. Two Words: Underwater Mattress
“I had transferred to a very small private school in my junior year of high school.
Not my choice, but my parents moved to a rough area and my mother worked a second job to keep me in there because the public school was known to have low graduation rates compared to other public schools in the neighboring cities. For that, I’m forever grateful.
I had gone from being somewhat cool to the new kid without friends.
It lent a lot of perspective and empathy and from it, I learned a sense of compassion for anyone being the newb in a class or job scenario as I became an adult.
Anyway, transferring, I sat in the hallway outside the principal’s office as the administrative work was being taken care of. Across from me was Jon, (without the ‘h’) who was awaiting discipline for something, though I’m not entirely sure.
He looked me up and said, ‘What are you looking at?’ Being a former cool kid, I laughed under my breath, rolled my eyes, and shrugged it off.
That did not go well with him. He told me to go screw myself and he’d see me later just before he went into the office to receive whatever discipline he was there for.
Throughout my junior year, I’d be called names, shoulder checked, even spit at by Jon.
I eventually made friends at school, so it was tolerable. I always kept my cool. Being a small school, we also were on the baseball team together. I was somewhat of a standout and was awarded captain of the team and on the field, Jon and I had mutual respect and a common goal of winning.
However, towards the end of the season, he broke that mutual respect by peeing in my baseball bag, soaking my helmet and glove with pee.
It has always smelled like urine since. I never ratted him out because it just wasn’t my thing. I don’t discount others for doing it, especially in a bullying or dangerous situation, but it just wasn’t for me.
But, I was at the point where I had had enough. I was going to get him back.
He had a class in a period before mine. We had the same desk and he’d often leave me notes that said, ‘Screw you’ on them.
Looking back, I now think it’s kind of funny. But he had made the mistake of leaving a graded test behind one Friday. He had a D so I know it wasn’t a token for him to show his parents. I took it and devised my plan for revenge: I wrote on the back, ‘Sr.
Prank ideas…’ listed a bunch of preposterous ideas like, ‘Cow on the top floor, Set off sprinklers, Call in 100 pizzas’ and finally ‘Throw a mattress in the pool’ among others.
I did my best to mimic his writing. The following weekend, I had driven around town, found a mattress on the side of the road, hopped the fence of the neighboring K through the 8th-grade campus, and dragged the mattress, with a ‘Seniors ’02’ spray-painted on it over the fence and into the pool.
The thing about throwing a mattress into a pool is, once it’s soaked, it absorbs a ton of water and becomes very difficult to pull out from the deep end. The school had to rent a bobcat to pull it out. It snagged and ripped and a bunch of foam and debris littered the pool and the school had to drain and clean the pool and fill it again.
Needless to say, it was an expensive fix. The following Monday, I had left his test behind as if it had been there all weekend. Somebody in another class had turned it in to the teacher who then turned it into the principal.
Jon was soon after expelled because it would have been his third strike at the school.
They couldn’t simply suspend him this time. So he left the school, and finished the last two months of the semester at another school, and graduated. From what I heard, his parents didn’t even believe him when he was questioned and denied doing it.
I had a bit of guilt at the time because I was worried I may have set him on course for disaster in life. But through social media, I eventually saw he took over his father’s successful plumbing business and is doing okay so I don’t feel as much guilt as I used to.
I acknowledge how what I did for revenge was messed up and could have been disastrous for him. But he rebounded in life just fine. I just hope that he learned he can’t get away with pulling his nonsense every time- that there is always some force keeping tabs and he treats others with a little more respect.
I’m sure karma will get me back someday but in the immortal words of Daniel Cormier, ‘Screw Jon!'”
3. Be Nice To The Customers Next Time
“Years ago, long before the economy made a job with a fair wage a piece of gold, I worked at a restaurant (fresh out of college).
There was a guy I worked with, think his name was Brian, he was kind of a jerk but a fun guy to hang out with all the same (not that we hung out outside of work).
He was seeing one of the girls but liked to joke about how he was two-timing her with some girl at another restaurant.
I was in the middle of that post-college phase where you know you should break up with your college sweetheart but the momentum is too strong so you hold on for dear life.
I had been up many nights just sick over knowing that she was two-timing me but I couldn’t prove it and I had no real options but to keep being abused like that and being miserable.
Anyway. Brian was a server/waiter.
One day, after knowing him for maybe 2-3 months, he was complaining about some table he had.
They ordered and when the food was ready off the line, he took the woman’s plate and grabbed the porkchop off and (1) licked it on both sides, (2) threw it on the floor and dragged it a bit to pick up some dirt, and (3) put some of her mashed potatoes in his mouth, then spit them back with the rest and mixed em all up.
In retrospect, I probably should have grabbed the plate out of his hands and told him to screw off. Ah, hindsight.
Instead, I decided to mess with him in a slightly more passive way. I immediately went to the manager and told him what I saw.
It took about 10 seconds to find someone else that was in the kitchen and saw the same thing, and he was fired before the night was through.
But that’s not all.
His ‘partner’ (a hostess) was off somewhere and missed the whole thing, and when she was caught up she was angry at him for getting fired. Don’t think they were serious, and no idea how it really affected her, but to calm her down I told her that she’d be better off without him around since he was two-timing her anyway.
She took it at face value, called him while he was driving home, and broke up with him.
So he comes back in that same night, as if things can’t get any better, and he sends someone to find me to have me meet him outside.
I tell them to tell him no, thinking he could go screw himself. Eventually, he comes back in, his face beat-red, and says he knows where I live, that he’ll be waiting. Gonna ‘get’ me, etc.
Mid-threat, seeing he had actually been crying, I laugh.
LAUGH! And people turn to look. He’s got steam coming out his ears, thinking of murder, and me giggling in his face. He stormed off and I kind of wished someone would just let me break up with my partner, the lying jerk.
So yeah, in retrospect, he probably did need to get fired but I wish I could have stopped him from being such a jerk.
And I shouldn’t have destroyed his relationship, but most girls would break off with a guy for bragging about two-timing whether or not it’s true.
And really, I should have met him outside and beat him up. Life always looks better when it’s gone.”
2. We'll Get Back At You For Being A Terrible Neighbor
It had to happen at some point.
“Once upon a time, I was a newly married lad.
We purchased my grandparent’s house from their estate, as our first home. We didn’t have kids yet, so we both had full-time jobs and hectic schedules.
Incident #1) One day, I came home from work to find my dog out on her run, going wild.
She rarely barked, so I paused for a second, trying to find out what was going on… and watched as a bright yellow sprinkler came flying over the fence.
There was a bunch of stuff lying about my backyard, where the neighbor kid (let’s call him Evil Son) had been throwing it at my poor dog.
I walked next door and banged on the neighbor’s door. The boy’s mother (let’s call her Witch) came to the upstairs window (not even to the door) and yelled ‘what are you doing on my property?’ at me. By the way, this is my very first interaction with this woman.
I introduced myself and tried to explain what was going on. She immediately jumped to ‘do you have video of my son throwing stuff?’
Then, inexplicably, Witch started blaming my partner and I. ‘If we weren’t such hermits, everyone wouldn’t hate us so much.’ Odd, all of my other neighbors waved when we went by… but we didn’t interact more than that.
She was the only one I didn’t know.
Anyhow, she went on, and it turned out that she was upset that I didn’t tell her that my grandmother had passed. Yeah… I hadn’t told someone I didn’t know about a family matter.
Fine, whatever… I dropped the matter and left.
Incident #2) Shortly thereafter, I stopped working a regular 9-5, and started my own business, working out of my home. I noticed some mail went missing.
One day, I see the mail truck go by, and put on shoes to go pick it up from the mailbox.
When I get down there, I find the box empty, and Witch walking away from it with my mail in hand.
I yell at her, and she drops it in a pile on her driveway. Proceeds to yell at me that it was blowing around her driveway and that I should be more careful.
Yeah, so I call the cops. They are reticent to do anything since I didn’t actually see her take the mail from my mailbox, but they still go over to talk to her. I can hear her yelling at them from inside my house.
The next day, she runs out and stands in front of my car, trying to confront me as I am leaving. I tell her in no uncertain terms that I am ok with running her over.
Incident #3) A neighbor’s pet bunny went missing from its outdoor hutch.
Another neighbor spots Evil Son down at the end of our cul-de-sac, looking suspicious. Bunny is found in bad shape where Evil Son was seen. Cops are called, denials, the works.
Incident #4) We were getting our house ready to sell. Part of that included stripping and repainting our attached deck.
I come home from work and find a can of paint has been opened and thrown across the deck, some furniture, and the side of the house.
There are a few child-sized footprints through the paint. Cops come, but don’t give care.
Incident #5) Witch has an ‘extinction burst’, as they call it, blaming everyone for everything bad in her life.
She puts fliers in everyone’s mailboxes, talking about a conspiracy against her. Did you know that that’s actually illegal and punishable by a fine? She does now…
Incident #6) Witch takes a different neighbor to a task, out in the street. Turns out, she doesn’t have any friends, anymore.
Other neighbors join the fracas, ganging up on her. Turns out her kid hurting their rabbit, or her kid throwing rocks at their cars, and various other events, made her no friends.
Incident #7) Witch gets kicked out of a city alderman meeting, where she tried to have the entire neighborhood condemned for various imagined slights.
Results) So, after years of dealing with this woman’s antics, we prepared to move to a new house. We threw one last blow-out party, as one does. I get a little inebriated and went on a rant about how little I was going to miss having that neighbor.
A friend decided that payback was in order, so we went down into the cellar, and perused my grandfather’s shelves of Stuff-He-Never-Threw-Away. Amongst it all was a bottle of herbicide.
Now, this is where the story gets a little hazy. My friend disappeared for about an hour and then was back, as if nothing ever happened.
I never saw the bottle leave the shelf. But, a few days later, parts of Witch’s lawn started to turn brown and die. Big block letters spelled out ‘I am a witch.’
I ran into Witch a week later, as I was getting my mail.
Contractors were tearing up her lawn, laying down rolls of sod. She stomped over to me and ranted about my other neighbor’s kids. She clearly saw them apply lighter fluid to her lawn, and light it on fire to burn the awful message into it.
Funny thing, whatever was done to her lawn, within a week sections of the new sod died, and the message reappeared (although blobby and illegible).
And I still have that yellow sprinkler.”
1. Just A Crazy Love Square
“So this guy Jay was seeing my friend Helen, and we were at my friend Sam’s house. Jay was super HOT. Helen was a gorgeous, petite girl, Sam was even more petite and pretty, and I was quite tall and a bit chunky, and I was going through a goth stage, and all that translucent powder on my mug was giving me terribad acne.
So Helen was kind of loose, and Jay was a bit of a player, so Sam and I snuggled up with them, and everyone got a bit handsy and kissy.
A few weeks later, Helen and Jay decided they were better as friends, and Sam and I started vying for Jay’s attention.
I lost weight, wore girlier clothing, and Sam put on the cutesy ‘I’m a widdle giwl’ act all the time, begging for Jay’s protection. Jay would make out with me, he’d make out with Sam, Sam and I would make out, Sam and Helen would make out, Helen and I would make out, all three of us girls would make out in front of Jay.
It was a cluster-makeout.
Anyway, so Jay finally comes to me and says, ‘OP, you are great, I really like you, but we go to different schools and I see Sam more often, so I’m going to see her,’ and I brushed it off – Whatever, I did what I want!
Sam, Helen, and I still fooled around a bit, but we did it less and less as Sam and Jay became more serious.
I always held a candle for Jay, but Sam’s annoying ‘widdle giwl’ act just got worse and worse. It got to the point where she would pinch herself to make herself fake cry to make him hug her, or kiss her.
She became really mean towards everyone, and she was just completely miserable all the time. I started to really dislike her. She always came off as really dishonest, and looking back I wasn’t much better, essentially trying to change myself so a guy would like me more.
But then again, considering that Helen and Sam were two tiny, petite gorgeous girls and I was a Gargoyle next to them, Jay’s confession of attraction to me must say something about my personality I guess?
Anyway, so Jay and Sam were together for about a year, but Jay was getting frustrated with the relationship.
(Reminder! We are all like, 15, 16 here.) Jay would come venting to me, and during the time they were seeing each other I had given up, gone back to my goth makeup and hair and clothes (but still kept the weight off.) Jay would say things like, ‘I wonder if I made the right choice,’ and would complain of Sam’s sub-par intelligence.
We would stay on the phone or go out for coffee for hours and hours. I began hatching a plot to break Jay and Sam up – he was miserable and she was a prude. le shrug. So, I had Jay over one day and I had cleaned my room, I had baked his favorite cookies, we had Radiohead playing, and we found ourselves making out.
Success.
I faked guilt. I called Sam up and told her, ‘I’m so sorry, I made out with Jay, I don’t know what I was thinking, blah blah blah,’ and she and Jay took a break. So then Jay and I spent the next few weeks attached at the mouth, hip, neck, etc.
They did get back together, but then they broke up and he kept coming back to me.
In his words, I was a much better friend, companion, kisser, listener, and all those other wonderful things. But I just wasn’t petite enough. Mind you, he never went out with me in so many words.
We just fooled around a lot for about 4 months, and … that was about it. Not really worth breaking them up for, but I really just wanted to be the winner for once.”
