People Disclose Their Delectable Revenge Stories
25. Bully Me For My Disability? I Have Proof
“First year of university. First semester. Dry Campus. All-Female Dorm. I have a disability. I get set up with my own room, Learning Accommodations, the works. Not much, just stuff to help me focus. Two girls also move in.
For the story, I’ll call them Jay and Bee. Jay and Bee are your classical Regina Georges from ‘Mean Girls’. They act nice and sweet to your face, but in fact, talk trash about you and make your life miserable until it’s too late. They’re also very petty.
They started ‘targeting’ me after one of them thought that I didn’t have my documented disability (it literally took 2 minutes for the doctors to come back and confirm it after I was tested). They started talking trash about me, my body and even tried protesting that I was in a single room while they had to have roommates.
I wasn’t the only person they harassed either. In fact, several girls were either forcibly kicked out, manipulated into, or simply dropped out of the dorm because they couldn’t handle their little stunts. In fact, Bee proved to be very violent because she chased another girl and threatened her.
This is important because of what happens.
Bee and Jay get reported and kicked out (finally). They have a month to leave. They’re annoyed because they got caught, and they decided if they were going down, they were taking one last person out with them.
Guess who was chosen? The harassment and violence picked up over the next few weeks as finals approached. I was getting more and more stressed and angry until finally, I lashed out at Bee. Not physically. I snapped, told her she was petty and a jerk, if her partner knew half the things she pulled he wouldn’t be with her, she was mean, etc. It was just anything and everything minus the swearing.
Here’s the thing, I don’t swear usually and I actually am able to control it even in that state of mind. The last thing I tell her is if she comes near me again, ‘we’re gonna have a problem!’ that’s it. I stormed off to my room.
RA comes, she heard and talked to me. She says that sadly she has to write a report because of how loud I was and I say I understand.
The next day, Bee gets her lawyer (so I deciphered) to get the President of Student Life Services to boot me out.
Why? I threatened her life. I apparently threatened her life. No witnesses. No audio recordings.
Yeah. That’s just petty. So I get the boot because somehow the President has no clue about all that’s transpired (apparently Bee and Jay are getting kicked out of the dorm officially for other reasons), I have until 12 pm the next day to get my stuff and go.
Thankfully my dad was on his way to pick me up already. We spend 3 and 1/2 hours cleaning up. I am done rolling over. I let the girls know what’s going on, needless to say, that Jay and Bee don’t come out of their rooms until 6 am the next morning.
And I decide that I’m going to fight back. With my family’s help, I write up an appeal, and a letter with documents -evidence- of Snapchat videos, Tweets, even texts shared between one of their former friends all indicating their plans and plots to attack me and drive me out.
Not only does the President of Student Life get it, but the President of the School.
Fast forward. My appeal is accepted, I go back. Classes begin, I have only one during the day. I’m buying a textbook, and I see Jay and Bee there.
They are storming out of the Administration office, really annoyed because they can’t fight back. They see me, and I smirk and wave. When Bee gives me the finger and starts to walk away, I turned to leave, and I shouted loud enough for them to hear:
‘Checkmate!'”
24. Mess Up The Room? I'll Renovate My Side
“The hostel we have at my college is very badly maintained and old. Staying without food or the comfort of home is never great ofc. So I try to make a nice meal occasionally or keep a clean room just to keep spirits up.
My roommate, for some reason, decided from day one that I was her enemy, and to top that she was messy to the point of being unhygienic.
She’d throw nail clippings and trash around the room; leave dirty dishes lying around for days till they attracted ants & flies; then there was the bucket of weeks-old stagnant water that she used to wash her hands or face with when she felt lazy to go to the washrooms.
I requested politely a few times that she keep the room clean since we were both sharing the room. But nope, she’d just be unreasonable about it and do even more nonsense just to spite me.
Now, our room was really old and painted this depressing grey-blue when we shifted in.
The walls had chipped paint all over, covered in graffiti by the past occupants. The plaster on the ceiling had given away in many places. In my second yr, I decided to have the room painted and the ceiling patched up a little. The best decision I made, made life so much more pleasant.
I might’ve done this when my roommate was back home. And with everything going on, the dreaded bucket might’ve been misplaced (read: hidden behind all the junk she’d stored in the overhead shelves we’d been given). Also, it might have happened that I got only half of the room fixed up since she liked living in a mess.
It looked like someone mashed two different rooms together. The stark contrast made her half look even worse. Oh, the look on her face when she came back was priceless.”
23. This Is How I Work Smart, Not Hard
“I’m a consulting engineer, and in my line of work, we bill by the hour.
It’s similar to how lawyers bill their time.
So, I’ve been working on a number of large projects, and I do my best to track my hours and make sure that they’re accurate. However, I have one boss that I despise. He constantly micromanages the staff, gives them poor to no guidance, and then throws them under the bus because they inevitably screw something up due to his poor management abilities.
He never reads anything we send him, and whenever he gets a phone call or email from a client, he goes into a kind of panic attack and starts making people drop everything they’re doing to attend to his little emergencies. I’ve had to drop everything, once, to help him rotate a page on adobe pdf.
For this big project I’m working on with him, he has me come in early every day before he arrives. And he wants me to leave the office after he does. He also wants me to work weekends as well, about half of which I reluctantly come over.
Most of this time is spent re-doing work that we have already done, but he screwed up because he didn’t read the guidelines the client gave us. It’s been going on like this since June, and we’re still not done with this project, yet.
How do I get my revenge?
Simple. Any time he asks me to do anything, I charge 1/2 hour of time. That little pdf rotation thing? Yeah, it took me two minutes to go to his office and rotate a pdf for him, but I charged 30. And on all of these really long days where I’m working 10+ hours a day?
Yeah, I charge 10.5 hours. I keep on taking little bits of time away from this project. He’s the only person I do this for. Luckily for me, he does not really check the time we charge for any of his jobs.
What purpose does this accomplish?
My company does not pay us overtime. However, they do give us staff engineers comp time (think about it as extra time off for more than 40 hours billed per week) if we have to work long weeks. My boss is an associate, and he does not get comp time.
He has to slave away on all of his miserable weekends without any extra pay, and he has to do it on his own time. Meanwhile, I’ve saved up to 5 weeks’ worth of comp time and made certain that I will be taking all of that time off within the next year.
And yes, this is on top of the 4 weeks of time off that I’ve saved up as well. I can take 9 weeks off next year if I wanted to, and there’s nothing my company can do about it.”
22. Angry Woman Didn't Enjoy Her Ride On The Escalator
“At my work, we have these really narrow escalators.
Not wide enough for the ‘step to the side so if people want to walk up, they can’ type, they just fit one person across. Big office complex, there are probably 10 stairways for every one escalator. There are also many elevators.
So my friend/coworker and I get on on the first floor and a woman hops on behind us and she is visibly annoyed that we aren’t walking up the escalator.
She’s like huffing and puffing, tapping her feet, smacking her hand on the rail, obviously has someplace to go and we’re in her way. Never actually said anything to us, just fumed. My friend and I look at each other and proceed to ride the escalator all the way to the 4th floor, when we really needed to get off on the second floor, just to annoy that woman.
Screw you, lady. There are plenty of stairs you can storm up.”
21. Try To Prank Me? I'll Have The Last Laugh
“I spent about 10 years teaching high school humanities at a small private school. For my first two years, I didn’t have a classroom, just a small office.
I would bring what I needed for each class on a cart and go from room to room, depending on which teacher had a prep at any given time. This was incredibly inconvenient and, not being the most organized of teachers, to begin with, made things difficult to keep track of.
There were a group of 11th-grade boys who decided to make things a little more difficult for me. They were good kids, we got along well, I coached several of them on the school soccer team, but they decided that since my office would often be empty, it was a great place to prank.
It was never anything too serious, things falling over when I opened the door, or things disappearing for a day and then turning up in a different place the next day. Nothing was ever damaged, and I could never prove who it was, even though I knew.
My school had mandatory final exams in each academic course. I didn’t really think they were necessary, so I would generally make them pretty easy with a lot of preparation. I would give out study sheets and play review games for a couple of weeks before the test, and there was no reason the students wouldn’t do well on them.
I had the approval of the admin to do this as they weren’t particularly fond of the final exam rule either, it was a school board policy.
A few nights before the offending boys had their exam, I had a brainwave. I created a second exam.
Gone were the multiple-choice questions and obvious things from the review sheets. In their place came detailed questions about concepts that were briefly mentioned in class. Essay question after essay question. Ambiguous questions with no clear answers. Definitions of words that there was no way they knew.
It took a couple of hours, but I laughed the whole time.
When the test came, I had the special exams at the bottom of the pile and handed them out to each of the four or five boys. I told my vice-principal what was happening and he insisted on being present.
I started the timer and watched as the boys flipped over their papers.
It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Eyes went wide. Heads were shaking. Panic was setting in, especially as they saw all their classmates flying through their exams. One of the boys raised their hand.
‘Sorry, no questions during the final. You should be prepared based on your study sheets.’ I let them go for about five or ten minutes of terror before I gathered the fake tests and gave them the real ones.
They all passed with flying colors and never pranked my office again.
It was glorious.”
20. Don't Care About Me Getting Bullied? I'll Get My Own Justice
“For as long as I can remember, I had a habit of bottling up my emotions. My single father is a staunch believer in traditional masculinity, including the idea that men and boys shouldn’t cry.
By my early to mid-teens, I succumbed to this outdated idea and accepted my fate as a quiet, stoic drone that just took orders, respected authority, and did hard work (especially manual labor.)
Enter my high school, which had a huge problem with bullying. The worst kids by far were the mean kids from the inner city who targeted anybody they considered weaker than them.
I was a pretty muscular 15-year-old, but that didn’t stop them from saying things like ‘Dude, you’re so fat,’ or ‘Wassamatta, fattie? Lose your Twinkies on the way over?’ In class, it was mostly petty annoyance: taking my pencil, sticking gum in my hair, insults.
They got physical when the teachers weren’t looking. Tripping me in the hall and pretending it was an accident; slamming my head against the locker, hitting me with footballs or soccer balls, and saying a fake ‘whoops, sorry!’ By themselves, it didn’t seem that bad, but enough grains of sand add up to a huge pile, and, at that point, I was up to my waist in it.
Of course, the school didn’t do anything about it. Teachers would either tell me ‘I’ll take care of it,’ and then nothing ever changed, or I’d get something stupid like ‘I didn’t see it. There’s nothing I can do’ or ‘You know, if I stopped class every time a kid was acting up, we’d never get anything done.’ Sure, and if a tree falls in the forest, it didn’t make a sound because you didn’t hear it.
My father wasn’t any help either. He’d tell me things like ‘there’s gonna be people like that everywhere you go,’ or ‘if you’re crying about this, you’ll never make it in life,’ basically telling me to go******* up because there are worse things out there.
As a kid, I was hurt by this, but I was 15, so my self-esteem had been run over by a Combine a few times by now. For months, I just kept ignoring and waiting, hoping my teachers would keep their word about dealing with this problem.
Sadly, it seemed they’d rather prioritize pep rallies and Career Aptitude Tests than do their job in keeping kids safe.
By around Spring, I’d had enough. By now, my sadness and annoyance had transmuted into boiling rage that I’d been keeping in me for far too long.
If nobody was going to fight for me, I’d do it for myself, literally. I devoted the majority of my weekend to prepping for a showdown on Monday.
One of the few good things about my father is how knowledgeable he is in self-defense. He believed it was important for a man to learn to fight, so he had me take several different kinds of martial art classes.
If I was gonna fight a bully, I had to make it a proper fight. I then researched about Krav Maga, a branch of martial arts that’s basically a military-style form of self-defense, meant to train you how to fight if you were ever in danger ‘outside the arena.’ No rules, no balanced teams, no referees; just you and your need for survival. One of the components of Krav Maga is knowing the body’s biggest ‘weak spots,’ ones that maximize the most amount of pain when hurt.
Things like the groin, toes, and eyes were obvious, but you could also hit the knees, solar plexus, and even the spine. Since my classes didn’t teach Krav Maga (you had to be 16 at the time,) I watched many online videos, making mental notes of the techniques used. It was almost always the same kid or group of kids that bullied me, so I already knew what they looked like, and, more importantly, where to strike.
On Monday, I waited for the next chance to come for the bullies to attack. To my surprise, they kept quiet for the most part. Maybe this was one of my lucky days where I’d actually get some work done. Then, while I was crunching for an exam during lunch, one of the bullies, a regular, spilled my water all over my textbook, and said, ‘Whoops, sorry!’ As he and his pals started walking away laughing, I got a good look at the back of the guy’s neck.
I raised my fist, aiming for the middle where I’d likely hit his spinal column.
WHAM! I knocked the guy over to the ground. That’s when things went down. His friends tried tackling me away, and I tried remembering to hit all their weak points.
It was a fairly sloppy attempt at Krav Maga given my inexperience, and the other kids trying to fight back, but it got the effect I wanted. Of course, I didn’t come out unscathed. The other kids noticed us fighting, with some going to get a teacher while others watched in a mix of shock and excitement.
Eventually, the principal and a few other teachers pulled us apart, and sent us to the office, after our injuries were treated.
The principal talked with us individually while the assistant principal called all our parents. When it was my turn, I explained what happened. At some point, the principal said, ‘Why didn’t you tell the teacher?’ At that moment, I just snapped, somehow managing to sound even angrier than when I was fighting a few minutes ago.
‘I ALREADY TOLD THE DARNED TEACHERS, LIKE A MILLION TIMES, BUT NOBODY WAS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT! NOBODY! YOU TELL ME OVER AND OVER ‘I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT, I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT,’ BUT NOBODY EVER DOES! I WOULDN’T HAVE FELT LIKE I HAD TO DO THIS IF SOMEBODY HERE ACTUALLY DID THEIR DARNED JOB FOR ONCE!’ I got an extra week of suspension for yelling.
Much to my surprise, my father was rather quiet about the whole thing. Normally, my father had the temperament of a dragon, but maybe this whole fight touched his inner ‘macho man’ that made him go easier on me.
On the car ride home, he said calmly, but firmly, ‘What happened?
And tell me the truth.’ I told him, ‘They wouldn’t stop picking on me, so I defended myself.’ I waited to hear my father make some snide remark about hurt feelings, but he just said, ‘Were you in danger?’ I paused for a moment, and said, ‘…Yes.’ I knew I was exaggerating, but maybe this could open my father’s eyes to see how much I was hurting.
He was quiet for a minute and then said, ‘I can’t judge on your situation cause I wasn’t there, but it’s in a boy’s nature to be aggressive sometimes, and it sounds like those bullies were just using it for harm. I also know you well enough to know you wouldn’t lay a finger on somebody unless you felt like you had to.’ I nodded, holding back tears.
‘Next time you’re ever in that kinda danger, call me. Don’t wait for the teachers to fail you again. I’ll give ’em heck.’ I was stunned, and, once I realized what’d just happened, I smiled. That’s one of the few redeeming qualities about my father.
As toxic and narcissistic as he was, he was an expert on bringing vengeance to those who deserved it.
During my suspension, one of the bullies’ parents wanted to press assault charges on me, but my father threatened to counter-sue the school AND the parents for letting the bullying go on for so long.
Thankfully, nobody had to go to court as the bullies’ credibility sank faster than the Titanic. Once word got around that I fought back to stop the bullying (rather than the strong, quiet guy going psycho,) more kids decided to come forward to the principal about their experience being bullied, too, and how they also went to the teachers for help.
This included a few girls who were being harassed by these kids. This was a PR nightmare for the school that left a permanent stain on its reputation among the locals. In the end, the bullies got expelled, some faced charges for harassment, and I got transferred to a different high school.
I guess I’m a little proud that I inspired some other troubled kids to come forward, but I really didn’t like violence. I’m built for self-defense, but I don’t like hurting anybody unless it’s to protect those I love. I would’ve much preferred if teachers actually did their job, and ‘took care of it’ before I had to.
I did get a gift certificate for summer classes in Krav Maga for my Sweet 16. Thankfully, I’ve never had to use it yet.”
19. I Wreaked Havoc Before I Left
“Worked for children’s psychiatrists who are self-righteous jerks, defrauded funds from the state on a regular basis. Some of the patients’ parents were very abusive to me and my administrative colleagues.
I worked super-hard there for a couple of years, believing it was serving a purpose before I found out that they were nothing but crooks. So I looked for a better job and left. But not before:
For the two months over summer they weren’t there, I sent in their bills to the state as correctly as possible, meaning roughly 1/3rd fewer funds for at least those two months.
I couldn’t do it completely honestly, or they would have noticed before I was gone. I had one sign off for the other, at moments they were on vacation.
And I booked appointments for the parents of their patients that have been most abusive to me into the agenda but didn’t tell the parents.
Which means they had fines going out to them for appointments they ‘missed’. And these people are crazy. No wonder their kids are in psychiatry. And I know how to make it look like it was the doctors themselves that booked those appointments themselves, not the administrative staff.
I did loads more. But these were most satisfactory things.”
18. Torment My Family For Years? It'll Cost You A Fortune
“My estranged father who had been living several counties over was pretty much out of the picture by the time my parents got their divorce when I was 9.
Due to financial hardship, we were forced to live with my Aunt and the nightmare of a household we would soon find ourselves in. My Aunt married into Georgia ‘Wealth’ and you can figure out what that means on your own. She had 3 kids and eventually caught her husband having an affair.
It’s a huge scandal, she gets the house, the kids, and a fat payout from the family attorney. This is important because my Aunt didn’t do a darn thing in her life to earn her wealth, her house, her lifestyle, or basically anything. She was born poor along with my Mom.
Under her household, she was raging with power. Years of therapy have allowed me to recognize that certain people when in a position of power, get a perverse pleasure in ordering others to do their bidding. She was the strictest of authoritarians in every possible way you could imagine.
Chores had to be completed by an exact specific time. Vacuuming by 3:45 pm, Dishes by 3:55 pm, Laundry days for my Mother and us kids were Tues/Thurs 5:35 pm-7:55 pm. If it was still running, she would shut the power off for the two units. As we grew older, her own kids opted to stay with their father for full-time custody and she had them on Weekends.
Even they couldn’t stand her when she was in charge. As time passed, she got them less and less opting for alternating weekends as Highschool activities took precedence over time with Mother.
For my sister and me, the large 6 bedroom house was not ours for the taking.
My mom had to pay rent as well as rent for 1 bedroom as that was all she could afford on her salary. We had to share a bedroom until my second year of HS. All the while there was 1 spare unused bedroom available at all times.
My Aunt needed this for ‘Guests’ when they stayed over. Not one guest stayed there in the 10 years I was under that roof. Finally the church we attended told my Aunt to give up the spare bedroom so my sister can have her own room as it was ‘unhealthy’ for two teenagers sharing a room together like that.
That infuriated my Aunt because someone told her what to do in her own household. My sister and I got the brunt of her wrath. As my Mom’s salary was tapped out, my sister and I had to do extra chores like mowing the lawn, trimming the shrubs, cleaning the pool which we could no longer use without her being outside watching us.
My Aunt’s behavior was becoming more and more outrageous and disconnected from society. For example, she had always snapped her fingers when she wanted to get someone’s attention, but it was getting far more frequent and she would blow up into a tirade if either my sister or I didn’t obey.
Her own kids tried repeatedly to tell her that the things she was doing were wrong but she wouldn’t listen. Eventually, they wanted nothing to do with her outside of the home. She was a tyrant there and repeated intervention to get her to see the folly of her ways would fall on deaf ears.
I snapped:
All through HS, I had no confidence as a person. I was weak-willed and grew ever distant from friends and society. I say this in all truthfulness and fear, that had circumstances continued the way they had been going, I could very well have harmed myself.
I was that bad off.
I had just graduated HS and started my first semester of community college. I’m 2 weeks into my classes attending from home when my Aunt drops a bomb on me. ‘You owe me $$$ for this month’s rent, the same amount for next month’s rent as well.
It is the 27th after all. You’re an adult now. You’re out of HS and working now, so you need to pay rent.’ Huh? I blew a gasket as I yelled back. ‘You can’t just suddenly decide to charge me rent just because you feel like it.
I need 30 days’ notice, I have rights.’
My Aunt yelled at me some nonsense excuse that she had discussed this with my mother and it was decided that I needed to pay my own rent now. In some miraculous backbone move, of which I still have no idea how I stood up to her, I yelled right back at her, ‘If I’m an Adult, then treat me like and talk to me about rental agreements.
I’ll start paying you rent in 30 days starting the 1st.’ I turned my back to her and walked away with my fists balled tight. I was furious with anger but I walked away. My Aunt saw my fists from behind and screamed b****y murder that I was going to attack her.
No, I wasn’t. She snapped her fingers at me repeatedly on my tail to get my attention but I didn’t turn around. I needed to cool off and clear my head. As I turned the corner, she grabbed my wrist hard yelling, ‘I’m not finished talking to you.’ I threw my still balled-up fist forward keeping with my stride to break her grip as I hadn’t stopped my momentum.
This caused her grabbing arm to slam hard into the corner of the wall that I had just turned into. She screamed in pain but I left the house and took off.
The aftermath of that incident was that my Aunt called the cops on me in an attempt to press charges.
She was taken to the hospital and suffered a fractured wrist and she was put in a cast/sling (don’t know as I never saw it and never inquired further). Her story changed every time she told the cops what happened while my story was spot on every time.
I can still recall that moment down to the smell in the house, where I was facing, the working and non-working lightbulbs, etc. Forever ingrained in me. I was kicked out of the house and I couldn’t visit my sister or my Mom there at the house again.
Fine by me as I didn’t want to see my jerk Aunt ever again. I was happy to meet my mother and sister at the local diner or outlet. We could be ourselves there and not hostages in our own homes.
Years later:
My Mom wised up and got out of that abusive relationship with her sister and moved out on her own.
She got a temporary nice place, invested wisely, and with the help from the church, got help getting a place of her own. In 2009 after the housing crisis, she bought her own place that she could never have afforded on her own prior to the Market crash.
But some good came out of it. She wept knowing my Sister (and her family) and I can come to visit any time and stay.
Over the years I’ve been able to forgive my Aunt. Not forget, Forgive. I’ve let go a lot of my anger and hatred toward her that she put me through.
When she has no leverage or control over us, she’s a somewhat decent person for being a total jerk of a person. My Cousins have calmed down, heard my side of what happened those years ago, and know what kind of person I am compared to what kind of person their mother is.
They chose to believe me and know I didn’t hit her or strike her or beat her across the face like she continues to claim.
The Revenge:
While I have been able to forgive my Aunt for what she has done to me, I cannot forgive her for what she did to my Mother.
Kept her in financial hardship for a decade while she sat on a bank account full of cash and assets. Or what she did to my Sister. Forced her to pay for damages because the water heater burst while my Aunt and Mother were away one weekend leaving my sister at home.
She didn’t discover the flooded rooms for hours. My Aunt’s reasoning, ‘It was her responsibility to watch the house.’ Not the responsibility of the homeowner to maintain/replace the water heater before it goes. Let’s leave that upfront $5000 financial burden before the flood insurance kicks in on a 16-year-old girl.
I’ve had little to no contact with my Aunt since I was kicked out of the house nearly 2 decades ago. But I do keep in constant contact with my cousins. While I’m not going to divulge what I do for a living, I can say that I work with and for the Government.
I’ve worked my butt off getting to where I’m at today. I’m known for being truthful, wise, and giving good advice when asked. Because of this, I often talk financially with my cousins. All of whom are financially smart and are doing well for themselves.
They often then relay this information to their scheming mother who has no mind for business and investments. All that money she got from her house sale, her divorce settlement, her previous investments is pretty much gone. I spent YEARS planning on the perfect trap and it took a long time to prepare everything to make sure everything appeared right.
I am not a lawyer and I don’t pretend to know the law but I do know the regulations and laws pertaining to insider information. This is not that. 100% certain of it and if I ever go to court, I know my lawyer has a solid case in my defense.
But is this a grey area, most definitely? I let slip to my Cousins about some future real estate plans near my Aunt’s new area of living. It ‘may’ be worth a lot more because of future development taking place in the area. All of that was true and backed up by what was in the Newspaper and New Construction signs that newly appeared on Google Maps (at the time).
The rest was fabricated by myself backed up by actual information I looked up on real estate websites and on projects I was working on through my work.
The Telephone game takes place and a few weeks later I presume, my Aunt starts making phone calls to real estate agents trying to buy lots of Land in the undeveloped ugly area of her new house.
Over the course of a few months to a half a year, she spends $300,000 of her last remaining savings on land hoping it will pay out when the area around it gets developed in the upcoming years.
Only, HUD/Government/City doesn’t have any plans to develop in those immediate areas.
In fact, the analysis showed that building in those areas was poor planning and would cost the taxpayers twice to three times as much as the land was not environmentally sound. It was best to build 6 miles away.
This post was long overdue because it’s been over 2 years since my Aunt purchased Land that is basically worthless.
See, she won’t sell the land unless she gets at least the same price she paid for it because she’s the OWNER of that land. Can’t tell her what to do on her own land. Sweet Karma strikes in a way I couldn’t possibly have foreseen.
My cousin informed me that the value of the land has decreased significantly because it’s not environmentally sound to build anything commercial there. But it’s zoned for commercial use. Currently, 3 of the 4 blocks of land she purchased are just substance farms next to eyesore abandoned buildings or industrial complexes.
Nobody can build on it and nor does anyone want to buy it. Sucks to be her!
The best part is, my cousins have absolutely no idea that I set them up for their Mother to take the fall. These environmental results are relatively new and the perfect cover to say why the Project changed locations 6 miles away.”
17. Embarrass Your Girl? I'll Make Sure All Eyes Are On You
“My friend and I had gone for a drink in a bar nearby where we both live. It was quite early but expected to get busy later so they had people on the door.
We were a few drinks in when my friend’s partner arrived. We’d just gone to get the drinks in when my friend’s partner grabbed two chairs (for us all to sit together).
She was carrying the two chairs, one in each hand, over to our new tables when my friend, the comedian that he is, dashed over and pants her. And this was in front of a few people in the bar (plus bar staff), but also including the door staff – who it turns out, were family friends of my friend’s partner.
She was livid. Humiliated. Devastated. And absolutely raging. She quite rightly went down his throat, exclaiming how humiliated she was, disappointed in him she was, embarrassed that family friends had seen everything, etc etc. But my friend, the man that he is, fought back… stating that because it was ‘funny’ (only he thought it was funny) that it was OK.
That humor trumps humiliation. She was in tears by this point and my friend was standing firm. He felt that he had done nothing wrong(?!?!?!)
Fast forward a couple of hours, and the bar had busied up. A hen do (which included some of my friend’s partners’ friends) loud as can had piled in and were all sitting to the left of a fruit machine.
And, to the right of the fruit machine, was a big group of loud, wasted men. All annoyed as rats barking and shouting at each other.
I’m just getting another round in when my friend, the gambler that he is, decides to chance his arm on the fruit machine (it’s not as if he had anything else to do; his missus is still raging).
From the bar, I see he’s standing, unaware, between a loud hen do, and a loud wasted group of blokes.
Knowing that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, I bound over, all stealth-like, grab his duds with both hands, and yank them down…
What I hadn’t intended on was bringing his undergarments down with them, too. Both parties went absolutely wild and my friend’s missus’ face lit up.
They’re married now.”
16. Fire My Boss? Pay For My Unemployment Benefits
“I started working for a small branch of a company and got along really well with my boss (the branch manager) and used to compare him to Michael Scott (not to his face), I would have been Jim Halpert in this scenario.
After working there for a while, my boss was approached with an ‘awesome’ offer to go manage a bigger branch a few hours away. This was because the owner wanted to place his son as the branch manager of a small location, and needed to vacate a position to do so.
My boss graciously turned down the offer, his kids had just started at their new schools and he didn’t want to uproot them again (he’d relocated to take the current position).
This was not taken well by our corporate office, but they couldn’t fire him for it… not directly.
A few weeks later I saw our office manager (a lady nobody in the office liked) in my boss’s office filing paperwork (or so it seemed) which was odd but not alarming. The next week my boss was going to be on vacation, and all the office staff had to attend a meeting for non-salaried employees at the corporate headquarters.
While we were at the corporate thing our office manager handed out new office keys to all of us (three) that were there (my boss was on vacation, and salaried). I asked, ‘why are we getting new keys?’ and she said it was because someone lost theirs.
None of us had lost our keys, we were all sitting together and could easily confirm this, so I texted my boss to ask him and he had no CLUE what she was up to. I got a bad feeling about what was happening.
I called him after the meeting and told him to come by my house Sunday when he got back from out of town.
I explained that I was 95% certain they were planning to fire him Monday, I didn’t know what reason, I just had a gut feeling. I said it was too bad because if he was fired I wouldn’t want to work there anymore knowing that they would do shady stuff like that.
He (jokingly) said that he should fire me first, so I could go on unemployment. I laughed and told him that he should write me a termination notice, and then if he doesn’t get fired on Monday it would be just between us… but if he does get fired I could take it to the unemployment office and have proof that I was fired for something that would make me eligible for benefits.
So we did, and he was fired Monday (for misfiling paperwork of some sort), and I definitely did not go back to work. They tried calling me in, and I told them that my boss had fired me already. I took the proof with me to the unemployment office and was good to go… until they (former employer) disputed my claim.
I had a hearing (on the phone) with the unemployment office and my corporate HR person:
HR: ‘He wasn’t fired, the paperwork he submitted with his claim isn’t the right paperwork, it should have come from HR, not his manager.’
Unemployment: ‘Why did the manager not do that then?
Where is he?’
HR: ‘He no longer works for the company.’
Unemployment: ‘Why did he leave?’
HR: ‘He was fired.’
Unemployment: ‘Why was he fired?’ (getting exasperated)
HR: (mumbles) ‘For doing paperwork incorrectly…’
Unemployment: ‘Well that is hardly the fault of the terminated employee!?!!
How is he to know that the paperwork is invalid that is coming from their supervisor?’
They told my HR that they could rehire me or not, but my claim was valid. They couldn’t rehire me because they’d already filled the position.
So I got to collect unemployment for a while before moving on to my next job. My former boss is doing well now it seems, and I don’t feel bad at all.
For the record, it is VERY likely that they would have ‘invented’ a way of firing me after they got rid of my boss.
Had they done that, they would have made CERTAIN that my termination was such that I wouldn’t be eligible for unemployment, I took that power away from them by getting fired preemptively. I am also positive that when I saw the office manager in his office (while he was away) she was arranging the setup for him to be fired.”
15. We Have Themes In The House Now, Huh? Okay
“Right out of high school I moved into an apartment with a couple of friends. One of the roommates and I fell into the standard – friends before, roommates during, not friends after cycle.
One of those friends moved out and the gap was filled with my second roommate’s significant other.
Now, the second roommate and she were supposed to be living a good ol’ Catholic life (no living together before marriage, definitely no sleeping together before marriage, things like that).
Note: I don’t know much about Catholicism, this is just how I had it explained to me by them so my perspective might be completely off.
One day I come home, go to my room and immediately trip over a pile of my stuff directly in the path leading into my room. I ask them what that’s about and get a response from her ‘Well we have a theme for the living room now, and your stuff… well it just didn’t match anything.’ Fine.
I did the things I wanted to do in the kitchen and went back and hung out in my room.
Later that night I was listening to music and pulled my headphones off and hear ‘Thud. Thud. Thud. ThudThud. ThudThudthudthudthud’ Silence. I realize that my roommates were getting it on and their bed was on the same wall as my bed. It ended up being a really long night trying to sleep.
Also – she was supposed to be waiting till marriage per her own admission. The next day I went and moved their bed a couple of inches from the wall so I didn’t have to hear it anymore.
That night he mentioned casually to her while I was standing there ‘well it looks like we managed to move the bed a little last night,’ and guffawed. (He didn’t guffaw but it was gross and screw him).
That weekend I’m home alone and start cleaning the bathroom. I dump the trash out but at the very bottom of the trash can is a b****y (literally)… implement for preventing pregnancy. Great. So I had to see and throw that out.
A couple of weeks passed and I had let them know that I was no longer going to be living with them as soon as my new apartment was ready – well they had an opening and I was able to get in within another couple of weeks – I agreed to pay out my rent until the end of my lease to them (it wasn’t long) and started packing and getting ready to move.
The day before I was scheduled to move my roommate told me that her parents were going to be in town. He said that because he and she weren’t supposed to be living together, she was going to sleep in the living room and since I was moving out, her parents were going to sleep in my room.
That night he then told me that they were going to be gone most of the next day to give me time to pack and spend time with her parents.
A plan formed in my mind. I quickly boxed and moved everything up the next day and then spent several hours completely redoing the bathroom’s decor.
I waited at the old apartment until they all came in the door talking and laughing… then silence. I walked out of my room carrying a bag of ‘stuff’ smiled at her parents and introduced myself. I then looked down at the kitchen counter and motioned to the stuff on the counter, which included protection, feminine hygiene products, shower supplies, and a toothbrush – ‘don’t worry about all this stuff,’ I said.
‘See, there’s a theme for the bathroom and even though (girl’s name) moved in, (girl’s name) stuff just really didn’t fit with the theme.’
And walked away – I’ve never seen or spoken to them since.”
14. Try To Fool Me? I'll Waste Your Time
“Two weeks ago, at the beginning of March, I noticed a pain in my chest and shortness of breath… upon further investigation I had a fever… I called my doctor, he said to stay home for two weeks.
So I’m on day five of isolation, I am living on canned food and water, I get out of breath when I walk from my bed to my chair, and I’m feeling pretty crummy.
Cue my phone ringing. Caller ID says it’s a Florida number.
I know no one in Florida but whatever… I answer it.
Robot voice comes over the line: ‘The warranty on your vehicle is about to expire. We have been trying to reach you.’
I sigh… it’s a scam telecall. I don’t have a warranty because I didn’t buy my car from a dealer.
So they have lied to me twice now. The spoofed number then the warranty lie… Normally I would just hang up. ‘Press three to be put on a do not call list.’ (I don’t think that actually does anything)
But I’m bored… a little lonely… so I stay on the line for whoever is going to try and scam me.
I decided I was going to get my fill of social interaction that I’ve been missing…
‘Hello, warranty services. What is the year and model of your car?’ Says a male voice on the other end of the line.
‘Hello?’ I say, ‘I can hear you talking but it’s muffled can you speak up a little.’
Him: ‘Hello, can you hear me now?’
Me: ‘Yes there you are, how are you doing?’
Him: ‘I’m doing just fine today sir, how are you? I’m from warranty services do you have th-‘
Me: ‘I’ll be honest with you, not so good.
I’ve been short of breath, chest hurts, fever… I’ve been in voluntary isolation since Friday you are actually the first person I’ve talked to in about a week.’
Him: ‘…’
So the script is gone at this point. He sputters for a moment and then… ‘Oh my gosh, I am so sorry to hear tha-‘
I cut him off again, I remain cheerful and upbeat through the call, and I just talk to him. Every time he tries to get back on the script I cut him off and tell him something new about my day, my symptoms, my food situation.
He is interested. He sounds to be about my age, mid-20s, so I tell him that it’s bad, but it’s not horrible so far. I feel that I have gotten lucky and have a mild case.
We talk about the tp shortages and stuff.
And I stay super upbeat, but I’m coughing and wheezing a little from all the talking. He is clearly thrown off, but I think he wanted to talk about it with someone and be told that, yes it sucks but it’s not horrifyingly bad.
At least not for most young folks.
We talked for an hour. By the end, we were discussing Tiger King on Netflix.
Finally, he gets back in the script and I don’t interrupt him.
Him: ‘So I wanted to talk about the warranty on your car.’
Me: ‘Oh! Yeah, no, I don’t have a car.’
Him: ‘…I see, well okay, I’ll see if I can get you off of the list here, you feel better sir, I really mean it.’
Me: ‘Nice talking to you, stay safe out there!’
-call ends-
I haven’t gotten any telemarketer calls since. But apparently, that’s not just me, I think all of them are staying at home too.
It was nice talking to a person. Even if he was a scammer who spoofs his number and lies about sending me warranty info for my car.
For those wondering, I’m feeling better now, symptoms have gone. I’m working on getting the okay to go back to work but it’s gonna be a while I think.
I hope that scammers will resist the urge to take advantage of this disaster.
If not… I wasted an hour of one’s time.”
13. This Is How We Destroyed Our Teacher And Principal
“It all started when I (M25) was 12 years old. My grade 7 teacher (M46 at the time) was infamous for being kinda intimidating and, in my opinion, abusive to his students. He was the disciplinarian of the school.
He was in charge of keeping track of detentions and announcing who will be sitting every Friday during assembly.
We suspected at that time that the reason why he never got fired was either that his students were too scared to report him, or because of the fact that the principal was his brother-in-law.
Reasons why I hated him: He was constantly making vaguely racist remarks, complaining about the ‘New South Africa.’ (He’s a white guy who was raised on a farm).
I always felt like he had an issue with me as a person because I’m a practicing Muslim.
He would make the class laugh at how ‘funny’ Muslim women looked with their heads ‘wrapped up’. His jokes about Muslims missing out on eating bacon were endless, in fact, he one day purposely stood in front of my desk eating a cheese and bacon panini.
He used to often rant about how the school is no longer a ‘pure Christian institution as it once was back in the day’. He would say these things and glance at either me, my twin sister, or the black students in the class who practiced their own African religions.
When it was his birthday, my mom encouraged me to buy him a gift. I spent my pocket money, which was already limited (my parents didn’t believe in allowances) to buy him a big slab of chocolate and a long piece of Droëwors (dried sausage).
Throughout the day, he would get gifts from students in his class and others.
He would get up from his desk to greet and thank them, and then shake their hand. I remember noticing this because I always found it weird when students shook hands with teachers because of how small our hands were compared to theirs.
However, when I gave him my gift, all he did was look at me for like a second, look away and nod his head slightly. I remember being thankful for not offering my hand out for him to shake because I thought he might have ignored it in front of the entire class.
To say I felt like trash is an understatement.
The experience that made me hate him the most happened just before we wrote 2nd or 3rd term exams. I was walking with my friend David (fake name) back from the tuck shop during the interval. We took a shortcut between the English and Afrikaans kindergarten classes and saw a group of boys huddled together.
One of them walked towards us and I saw that he had one of those camping multi-tools with the folding knife out, and instantly got a fright. He told us ‘Give me your stuff before I hurt you’ and then started laughing and walked back to his friends.
It was clearly a joke but David looked close to tears and I had a very bad fright because of what he has done. I told the guy (Fake name Xander) that he’s not allowed to have knives at school and that I’m going to tell my teacher.
We walked straight to our teacher and when we spoke to him, David burst into tears.
We told him what happened and David was sobbing when he said he felt like he was going to die. Our teacher barely looked up from his computer while we were speaking and when he asked for the guy’s name.
We told him the name and he said he will deal with it and for us to go out for an interval again.
I went home and told my mom who I felt didn’t fully believe me at the time.
The next day we saw Xander was basically making fun of him for getting into trouble with our teacher and likely getting expelled at worst, or sitting a Saturday detention at best. He laughed back at us and said our teacher had just come to his class, asked to speak to him, and told him to never bring it to school again.
No detention. No suspension. Basically nothing. He still had the knife on him for the rest of the day before.
We were so upset we went back to our teacher and I told him that Xander said that he didn’t get into trouble for having the knife.
He gave me the ugliest look as if I was bothering him, and coldly said to me that maybe I should fix my late-coming problem before I try to get other people in trouble.
I would come late 4 or 5 times a month because my mom’s car’s battery terminals were broken so the battery would run flat and she couldn’t afford to have it fixed. She had to put the neighbor’s battery in her car, start it, and then idle it while she took that battery out and put her own battery back in to charge up.
My mom taught me the value of always having a number 10 spanner in your car lol.
I felt betrayed by my teacher. The person who was supposed to make us feel safe while we were away from home.
When I spoke to my friends about it, they told me that Xander was actually the principal’s son, meaning he was my teacher’s nephew.
I decided to take the opportunity to speak to my friends about getting evidence that our teacher is treating students unfairly.
3 of my 4 close friends had camera phones. I sat in the far left corner, my one friend sat in the opposite corner by the door, our other friend sat in the middle, and the last friend was right at the back of the class by the window on the left. One thing about our teacher: he did not give a darn about where we sat as long as we answered him when he was done roll call and didn’t bother anyone when we swapped seats.
We came to an agreement that whenever our teacher would sound like he was going to say something vaguely racist or islamophobic, we would all discreetly take videos of him.
Any private conversation we had with him was voice recorded on our phones. We caught him on camera telling a really racist joke about black people, and saying that Hindus must have a lot of problems since they have so many Gods.
We caught him saying a lot of bad things, but a lot slipped through our fingers because we weren’t fast enough.
It was extremely difficult to keep our friend group motivated to record him and not tell anyone else about it. It was especially difficult because at the time I had a hand-me-down Samsung D900 which was seen as an expensive phone at the time.
My mom prohibited me from taking it to school. She instead bought a cheap R79 ($5) phone for us that could only make calls and send SMS. This was in case she needed to reach us in an emergency. I got caught several times sneaking my camera phone to school.
My biggest mess-up at school was when my mom phoned me on my Samsung and I answered it. Big oof but I was a dummy.
After I think a month we decided that we couldn’t let it go any further… One of our friends was a black guy named Tatenda (fake name).
Tatenda was a problem child. His mom died when he was four and his dad was a heavy drinker. He was raised mostly by his uncle who up until today I think was a p**p. He used to act out at school because of undiagnosed ADHD, his dad and uncle didn’t believe in learning disabilities and always assumed he was just lazy and badly behaved.
Tatenda especially got onto our teacher’s nerves because not only was he black, but because he would bring broken calculators from home and take them apart during class. One day our teacher told him to clear his desk and throw away the bits of plastic and calculator stuff.
He ignored the teacher. The teacher then started screaming at him, and Tatenda has done the only logical thing a 12/13-year-old would do in such a situation: he mockingly put two pencils into his ears.
Our teacher lost his mind, grabbed Tatenda, and threw him against the door.
The narrow window pane cracked. He told us he was fine during the interval afterward and we put coins together to buy him a Sprite. I almost cried when my friend who sat way behind me said he got the whole thing on camera. We didn’t even trust that the whole class’ testimony would get him into trouble.
We decided that enough was enough.
The revenge: First we showed the video to Tatenda’s uncle, who showed it to his father. Then I showed my mom all the other videos and recordings.
She. Lost. Her. Mind.
One of my friends sent all of it to his older sister who had a social media account and she posted it there and tagged the school and as many parents as she knew.
It blew up. Parents and people from around the province phoned the school demanding answers as to what is going to happen to our teacher. He was immediately suspended.
There were rumors circulating that he had to go into hiding because Tatenda’s uncle and his friends were looking to go after him.
I even met Tatenda’s dad for the first time in the weeks after the whole thing exploded. He liked to joke that his dad sobered up especially for this lol.
The principal pulled Xander out of the school. We never saw him again. My mom told me an investigation was launched against the school because of the improper handling of bullying complaints.
If I remember correctly, 3 English kids in my class alone spoke out against teachers dismissing their complaints of bullying by the Afrikaans kids. We were a mostly white, Afrikaans speaking school with 3 Afrikaans classes but only 1 English class per grade.
We only saw our teacher once after he was suspended. He looked badly beaten up and was accompanied by a policeman and two other male teachers so he could gather the rest of his stuff from his class.
But it didn’t end there.
Because so many kids needed the evidence that they were being bullied and nothing was done because of it, the CCTV footage was brought up. My friend’s mother who was part of the school governing body at that time, told us a few years ago that when they reviewed the footage, it became apparent that the principal was having an affair with one of the grade 2 teachers.
He could be seen grabbing her butt at the furthest point away from the camera. They slipped up a few times and kissed in clear view of the camera, but I guess once you’re surrounded by the cameras every day at work, you forget that they’re there.
It was very apparent that sometimes they thought they couldn’t be seen.
My mom’s friend’s sister (basically my aunt) sells Tupperware and one of her regular customers and close friends is the principal’s ex-wife. Not only did she leave him, but they were not married in the community of property due to a prenup agreement.
The house they lived in was in her name since before marriage, so she effectively made him homeless because none of his family wanted to take him in.
He ran into severe debt from staying in guesthouses and burned many bridges from overstaying his welcome at friends.
As for my teacher, his reputation was destination screwed. He served jail time, don’t know how long, and eventually left the country because it seemed everyone knew his face from the media attention he received.
The reason why I made this post: I was never going to tell this story as I’ve told it over and over through the years since primary school.
But I felt I had to because of what I experienced at the beginning of this year.
My family is part of a non-profit organization that has feeding schemes all over the country. The last Friday feed of February I’m standing security as I usually do since we’re few volunteers and there are many homeless people and most are intoxicated and can get violent.
I’m walking down the line to make sure there are no fights or anything that could start a riot, and I see a familiar face. My old principal is standing in the line, waiting for a bowl of stew and bread, with absolutely no idea who’s standing beside him.
Obviously, he wouldn’t have recognized me, but I never forgot his face. I’m not gonna lie, I cried quite a bit behind my sunglasses. Seeing him brought back the feelings I had when I was 12 years old in 7th grade, trying absolutely every excuse in the book to not have to go to school and be bullied by my teacher.
So yeah, for those of you who are still reading, this is the end of how my friends and I destroyed the lives of my teacher and principal.
If you got this far and are feeling depressed, worthless, or less than your peers, I love you.
I appreciate you, and you, are seriously awesome.”
12. Who Gets The Last Laugh Now?
“Years ago at the youthful age of 22, I had a partner of 8 months that dumped me for his ex of many years but he did it in a very cowardly way. Rather than just being upfront and honest with me, he would barely speak to me basically just saying ‘it’s just over’ without any explanation, without respect.
Then the following day I stumbled upon him at his friend’s house with the crazy ex who ended up physically attacking me.
As I was getting in my car after all this craziness, she said to me ‘He never cared about you! You were just a fallback to him!’ That last statement from her burned right through me.
It made me feel so angry and so badly embarrassed that I decided I simply had to set the record straight. I mean ok sure he didn’t love me as he did her, after all, they had many years of being together but I’ll be darned if he gets off that easy by just telling her I meant nothing and was just a fallback (when that was simply not true) meanwhile I’m left with a broken heart completely blind-sided by this cowardly snake and they get to live happily ever after.
Nope. Screw that…
I had a gang of loving sentimental cards he gave me with these amazing love letters written in them telling me how happy he finally was after being so miserable for so long and how he can’t wait to see what our future holds because it’s wonderful to be with me, how lucky he is to have me in his life, how he feels like a brand new person and couldn’t be happier, etc. You name it, he took the time often to write it (because the fact is he really did care, true it didn’t compare to the love he had for her after their several years together but he still did care for me.)
After week two, when I knew they’d still be in lovey-dovey make-up mode I took all these cards and all of the photos we took together (all showed two people very happy together and very coupled) and mailed every last piece to her home address with a sweet little note to her that said ‘I just wanted to show you how much of a fall back I was.
Who gets the last laugh now?’
Bounce forward 3 years, I run into him. To no surprise of mine, I find out they didn’t last. He told me that about 6 months prior he had picked out a big beautiful home for her and surprised her with it and she, get this, was MAD at him for it.
(Can we say Megawitch.) He said that was the straw that broke the camel’s back for him. He also told me how much misery those cards and pictures caused him and how she often gave him grief over me even up until the end.
Apparently, she got the point that I really was more than just a fallback.
I couldn’t help but find this hysterical. Karma baby. We both had a good laugh about it. He was a nice fun guy whose company I enjoyed and that past wasn’t something I hold on to so we spent a couple of evenings together after but just hanging out as friends until the end of the second night when he was trying to put the moves on me.
Not happening. I wasn’t interested in him at all these days. I let him crash at my place since he was wasted but made him sleep on the couch. I met my now-husband shortly thereafter and the rest is history.”
11. Try To Trick Me Into Paying You More? Get Ready To Pay Me
“Myself, my brother, and my mom were going to a chiropractor for several years when eventually I decided I didn’t want to go anymore; I felt I didn’t need it.
Around this time we needed to tighten how much we were spending anyway, so my mother was fine with this. She told the chiropractor I was going to stop coming, and all the days in advance that had been paid for were transferred over to my brother.
The chiropractor was fine with this.
Then a few months later, something suddenly changed. The chiropractor informed my mother that she and my brother had to start coming more often (my mother had to come twice a week, my brother once every week, whereas before they were only coming once every two weeks).
My mother told him that they didn’t need to do that, and couldn’t afford it; in fact, they were planning to start coming less often.
This got the chiropractor mad. He yelled (yes, yelled, so the people in the waiting room could hear) that there was plenty of other stuff my mother could cut out to save money, like not going to restaurants so often (we hadn’t been to a restaurant in at least a year).
He said ‘You come twice a week, (brother) comes every week. That, or don’t come at all.’ So my mother said ‘Fine, we’re not coming back,’ and left.
Later, since we had many days paid for in advance, my mother went to get our money back.
The chiropractor said she was only getting $25 back, claiming he had gone over the payments and the plans. Obviously, this was NOT the case and my mother was NOT happy. She went home, gathered up all the receipts from payments, grabbed the calendar, and made a long list of all the days that had been paid for and what days had been attended, and learned that she was owed almost a thousand dollars.
Finally, she walked back into the office, handed the list to the secretary, and said ‘Give this to (chiropractor), and THEN have him try to tell me he only owes me $25. If I need to, I’ll call my lawyer.’ Note that my mother did not, and still does not, actually have a lawyer.
Lo and behold, the next day, she gets a check for everything she had prepaid.
Ever since then, the chiropractor has been sending advertisements and coupons to us every Christmas. We throw them away. I hope he is wasting a lot mailing those. We haven’t gone consistently to a chiropractor since, and whenever we need to go to one, we’ve found a different one that’s far nicer and does not pressure us about coming back.”
10. Dump My Clothes? I'll Pee On Yours
“I used to live in an apartment building with my dog and my sister. We lived on the second floor, the laundry room was downstairs.
My upstairs neighbors were a Russian couple. They were very loud and pushy people, could often hear them yelling at each other. On several occasions, they’d harass me and my dog if they saw me taking him out for a walk. Something about how dogs are filthy animals that poop all over everything.
One night, I was doing laundry, and I was pretty good about getting down to the laundry room to switch my clothes out, etc.
On my way back from starting my second load, the wife stopped me in the hall and said I needed to hurry up because it was her turn.
Never mind that I was only using one washer/dryer, the other was available for her to use. When it was time to move my second load to the dryer, I got a call from mom (this was before cell phones) so I took a few minutes to chat and told her I’d call her right back, just needed to get laundry finished. I got down to the laundry room, less than 5 minutes after the washer cycle finished, and found my wet clothes ON THE GROUND.
And, the Russian lady was still in there scrubbing something out of her clothes. I asked her if she was the one who dumped my clothes on the ground, she said yes. I took too long. I picked up my clothes, loaded them into my car, and pretended to leave.
I stayed nearby, took my dog for a walk. When her clothes were coming out of the final rinse cycle, just before spin, I opened the washer and peed into her clothes. And added dog droppings.
I remember her having a shouting match with the building manager.
I never did laundry there again.”
9. Sociopathic Ex-Wife Lost Her Property's Value
“My best friend’s life was destroyed by his sociopathic ex-wife and her new sociopathic husband. They even turned his only child, his daughter, against him. They cleaned him out financially. He had no visitation only paid thousands in child support that went to pay their multi-acre property mortgage.
Fast forward 15 years. The daughter re-connected with her Dad and realized (on her own) the lies told to her and wants nothing to do with the crazy mother. Their property has actually LOST value (even though it is in the SF bay area) due to a weird zoning law they were not aware of when they bought it.
(statute of limitations ran out) They owe MORE than it is worth even though all properties around them have quadrupled. HA HA HA (Karma is REAL.)”
8. I Made Use Of The Jerk's Planters
“At my work, the car park out back is pretty much divided into two separate lots owned by my boss’s landlord (and former boss) alongside one owned by a colossal jerk who is adamant that this one tiny strip of land is hers when it’s clearly not going by the plans of both buildings, the fact that my boss’s landlord has been paying for the maintenance of that area, etc. She essentially cut off access to her side with zero advance notice which really screwed us on deliveries as we’d been using that car park for over a decade and did a bunch of other minor, petty stuff to annoy us.
Among other things, she threw a coffee at my car when it was parked on her side, she’s come in demanding that we all move our vehicles even when they’re on the bakery’s property because she can’t access something (Which is complete nonsense, too) and put up warning tape to try and stop people from using that car park.
She was also telling people in town she was very happy that she’d annoyed everyone who shared that car park.
One day, I was leaving work and a delivery driver was left using the only available exit as hers was taped off which meant he had to reverse a truck up a dirt, uneven laneway essentially.
I didn’t want to wait 20 minutes to be able to leave because of that selfish jerk so I asked the delivery driver if he wanted me to just take down the tape so he could use that side, he says yes and I get back in my car and start driving, going straight through it.
Unbeknownst to me, she was standing pretty much just out of sight from where I was coming from and saw everything. She was livid, she went to stand in front of my car and thought better of it (I wouldn’t attempt a hit and run but she doesn’t know that for sure and it’s gravel; not as easy to stop on in that kind of situation as asphalt) at which point she simply punched the side of it as I went past (Not sure how, but I’m pretty sure she managed to open my fuel filler flap thing) and yelled at the driver as he went past. Joke’s on her, I was getting fuel before I drove home anyway, and breaking through that tape only to see her red-faced and furious felt amazing.
She’s since put these big metal planters up blatantly on our property to forcefully divide the properties which are too heavy to move by hand but aren’t bolted in or anything. I’ve been nudging them forward a cm or two every shift with my car.
Just going to slowly move them back onto her property and continue to use them for the occasional pee. The funny thing is (while I don’t think she actually realizes) that the person who was contracted to make the planters is my boss’s brother, even if she gets them bolted in I somehow feel he’ll make sure it’s not too difficult to unbolt them again if need be.”
7. Steal My Spot? I'll Spit At Your Car
“It was a carefree day and my man wanted to check out this comic book store downtown to see if they carried skate decks. I agree to take him and we drive into the hard-to-see from-the-road parking lot and drive in slowly because it’s a small 10 or less car parking lot, and sweet, there are a few spots.
They are side by side. I was going to park at the left one, but as I was slowly driving up to make the turn this car comes from the other side of the small lot, (it’s on a slight hill) and speeds into the lot almost hitting the front of my car.
I’m shocked and confused why someone would speed right into a tiny spot… so I park in the second location beside her… already hilarious… (to me) I’m fuming and looking dead into this girl’s eyes… her passenger looks down and knows what she did.
They get out of the car first, no middle fingers, no getting out and swearing, my man knows I’m upset and knows I don’t want to start something super big… but my gosh I was brainstorming.
Of course, they went into the same store. My man is looking at decks and is super fast about it… I fill up my mouth with serious rage… I mumble… ‘Hurry up and buy it. I know what to do’… he follows me out and I go over to the girl’s car and let out this wad of stewing spit all over her door handle and window.
IT FELT GOOD! I didn’t stay long enough to see her face, but I’m sure she touched it before she noticed.”
6. 9000 Ladybugs Avenged Me
“A while back I was getting ready to move to a different apartment complex, seeing as my lease was ending and I wasn’t too fond of where I currently was. I took my time making sure that I found a suitable upgrade to a better living space and was happy to find what I thought was going to be a ‘too good to be true’ deal.
I signed a lease and a price agreement on the new place roughly 2 months in advance (pretty much as soon as I could) to reserve the space. A month and a half go by, I start packing my apartment up and I get a call that the apartment complex I signed a lease with no longer has my apartment available because the current tenant found a loophole in their lease.
SO the guy is a squatter and won’t leave. now I’m kinda sadly out of luck. I now have a week to find a new place to live seeing as they had no other availability due to the time frame.
At this point, I’m furious looking at legal stuff against the dude ‘trespassing’ and the complex blah blah blah.
Eventually, nothing comes of all of that and I’m stuck in a random basement room I found on craigslist because that’s all that’s available in a one-week window.
So after all of that, randomly scouring the web I came across a box of 4,500 ladybugs for the nice price of $29.99, this may sound fruitless but I had recently watched a fated youtube video on ants and their habitats.
I found out if you put a heat lamp over side A the ants will move through a tube to side B, now if you haven’t gotten where my head went yet. I bought two boxes of ladybugs, fashioned a tube to the bottom of them, and added a heat lamp to the top.
Shoved both lines under the squatter’s door one night and turned on the lamps.
9,000 ladybugs later I still haven’t heard a word.”
5. Just Give Me My Rolls Please
“There was an idiot I went to middle and high school with. I wouldn’t call him a bully because nobody saw him as any kind of threat, but he was always hot-headed, always thought anything I did was wrong (it could be as simple as ‘WHY ARE YOU USING A BLUE INK PEN?
BLACK INK MORON!!’), didn’t like when good things happened to me (‘How come HE got an 87 on the quiz and I got an 85?? My answer is acceptable too!’ No, it’s not dummy, or you would get the points), and put people down in general.
Again, not a bully because anyone could tell the kid was just an idiot and not a threat in any way.
Now in high school, he worked at Bertucci’s as a host/cashier. He was so darn proud because in his mind Bertucci’s is the Pinnacle of restaurant quality and service and he had a position of stature and long-standing of 2 months.
I was picking up dinner when he was at the register with a girl employee. He sees me and starts yelling ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘Picking up dinner.’ The girl immediately rings me up and tells him to go to the back and get it.
As soon as he’s gone she starts going ‘Are you his friend??’
I just want my dinner so I say we know each other. She pushes and asks ‘But are you his friend??’ Screw this guy and screw this restaurant: ‘NO’ I say.
‘Ok, it’s my birthday today and he kissed me, and I’m not ok with this!!’ I listen and try to console her because holy cow, what a moron. This isn’t a girl we go to school with, he barely knows her, and what the heck?
I tell her ‘You want a birthday gift? Hold on 15 seconds’ as the idiot comes back.
‘HERE!’
‘Where are my rolls?’
‘What?’
‘I want rolls, they’re complimentary and I asked for them.’
‘Are you really going to make me go back for rolls?’
‘Get. Me. My. Darn. Rolls. Now.’
The girl looks at him totally serious ‘Get his rolls, now.’
He whines and starts walking to the back of the restaurant. As soon as he’s out of sight I say bye to the girl and walk out.
The next day in school he yells at me in class for everyone to hear ‘OP, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME WALK TO THE BACK FOR ROLLS, LOSER?’
‘BECAUSE WHY DO YOU THINK A RANDOM GIRL YOU LIKE WANTS YOU TO KISS HER ON HER BIRTHDAY AT WORK?’
Our entire friend group (we ‘shared’ some friends) and a few others in class just bust out laughing at him while he turns the most perfect shade of red.
I got my rolls every time after.”
4. Be Irresponsible With Your Work? Okay, Fine
“I work with an organization that runs a toy drive for the holidays from October until December 22.
During this season we go to events that range from holiday luncheons to dinner parties, sometimes all on the same day.
We had a big event for our toy drive on Friday. Like being on live News event kind of thing. Well, the day before I had two events (a luncheon THEN a dinner party) and was unable to be at work to receive the details for our big news event.
My co-workers didn’t feel the need to give me the crucial info though. So I show up to work because we were all supposed to carpool that morning, just to find that all my coworkers left me. All the coworkers who KNEW that I was supposed to be with them but didn’t bother to call me or tell me the night before what time I was supposed to arrive.
All right, that’s cool, you can literally just leave me behind and think we’re cool. Yeah. RIGHT. I gotchu boo.
So at the news station, I was stewing in anger. I was avoiding the news peeps as well as my co-workers. I was there from 5:30 am until 5:30 pm.
The same people who left me at work went home earlier than they should have (around 10:30 am). We had shifts that went 6 am-12 pm, then 12 pm-6 pm. The people on the second shift came in a whole 2 ½ hours later than they should have, leaving the all-day crew with less manpower than they should have had.
We had a segment that went on live TV showing all of us unloading huge boxes of donated toys from the donors. The late crew was handling most of the hard work, then I come in going ‘Oh, let me help you with that.’ And take 1 toy from the huge box they were struggling with and walk away.
Then returned and did the same to the other people of late shift struggling with the other boxes.
In addition to that, I’m the coordinator of voluntold events that sometimes run through weekends whose travel times range from 30 min to 3 ½ hours. It just so happens that some came up for the weekends we have off.
Have fun on your road trips, idiots.”
3. You Want Me To Go And Collect Items? Good Luck On Your Own
“I used to work at a major supermarket in the online grocery department.
This happened when I was about 7 months in this position, and about this time, everyone in the community didn’t want to actually walk into the grocery store to shop. Thus, all of these folks placed online orders for either pickup or delivery.
Due to this exceptional demand, our bosses decided to have 20 order slots available to customers per hour for pickup.
I worked in the pickup team, and the delivery team was outsourced to a third-party company. Anyways, we have a couple of new colleagues join us, and one of them, in particular, is of a very young age, ~3 years younger, who also happens to be a micromanager and essentially a pain in the butt to work with (we’ll call him Andy).
Andy loves to go on his phone, all the time. (Mind you, I’m only in post-secondary now, and this happened in early 2021)
In our team, we have a couple of roles that are assigned to staff on a daily basis (sometimes the roles change, but generally they stay the same).
Per our specific store policy, there are supposed to be 2 persons in the home area of the team at all times answering customer calls and gathering all the necessary bins for a person’s order (note that role is given to generally more tenured persons, unless they request otherwise, and requires additional training from the department manager), 1 person is responsible for taking out the groceries to the customer’s vehicle, and the rest of the staff are usually assigned to collect the individual items off the store shelves per a customer’s order.
One day, I come into work, and I’m working a full shift (8 hours). It happens that I’m working with newer staff only, and Andy is also working. There is no role assignment sheet out on that day, so no specific roles were assigned. I decide, since I’m more tenured and have had the necessary training, I would stay in the home area of the team.
Andy comes up to me and says that the manager had assigned him to stay for his shift, and he requested for me to help collect items off the shelves for the rest of my shift. (Note here: it’s difficult to be using your phone while collecting customer items, so ideally you want to stay at home base to use your phone.)
Me: You haven’t had the training from (Manager) yet, and I am more tenured.
Andy: No, I have had the training. Please go and collect items, I do not need you staying here with me answering phone calls, or processing customers for the rest of the shift.
Me: Are you sure? All of the order slots are full for the rest of the shift.
Andy: Yes, it’s fine, please go and collect items.
Me: Okay.
Malicious Compliance:
So I go and start collecting items for future customer orders, and return to base after a run (Hour 1) to drop off the containers with items and grab new containers (you can only take so many containers in a cart at once).
Andy seems to be managing fine, so I don’t disturb him and go out for a second run.
I come back (Hour 2) and Andy asks me to take over his customer phone call (at this point customer is arguing over something trivial), but I tell him, ‘you told me you don’t need me to stay here for the entire shift, so I’m going for another run.’
Andy hesitantly agrees, and I continue with my 3rd run.
I come back (Hour 3) and there is a queue of about 7 post-it notes (anticipated customer wait time of 35 minutes, YIKES.) with customer orders on it, and Andy is on the phone with a customer.
(post-it notes were used when we didn’t have time to print off proper order summaries, additionally, the policy for waiting times is a maximum of 5 minutes from the time they call.)
He sees me and asks me to help him process orders as well as obtain the required container so the staff responsible for taking orders out could do so in a timely manner. Once again, I tell him, ‘you told me to not stay here and do any of the home base’s tasks, I’m going for another run.’
I come back (Hour 4) and there is a long line of 23 post-it notes with customer orders on it (anticipated customer wait time of 2 hours, BIG YIKES.), and this time, he pulls on my arm as soon as I come in and asks me to help him answer phone calls and process orders, but once again, I refused, referencing what he told me.
He let out a massive sigh and called the manager’s extension. At this point, I went out to do another run.
Halfway (Hour 4.5) through my run, I’m interrupted by the manager on duty. (Our team’s manager had gone home for the evening).
He asks me to come with him to help him and Andy in our area to clean up the backlog, as at this point customers were waiting well over 3.5 hours. (Major problem!) I walk back into the home base, and the manager questions me why I wasn’t staying in the home base, taking care of phone calls and customer orders.
I tell him the full truth, specifically that Andy had strictly noted that our team manager assigned him and him only to be in the home base managing these tasks, and Andy had sent me out to collect customer items for the rest of the shift, in its entirety.
Andy rebutted with the fact that he did not say this, and that he asked me to help him multiple times and I had blatantly refused (hmm…)
I told both the manager and Andy that I’ll be helping to clear the backlog and then going back to doing runs (and at this point I empathize with our customers waiting for 3.5 hours!)
At the end of my shift, we finally managed to catch up a decent amount and I did end up staying about 30 minutes overtime to reschedule the customers scheduled for later in the day to the next day’s morning slots (double booking the next day’s slots) while Andy went home already.
As a courtesy, I gave each customer that had to be rescheduled a $20 voucher (there were 44 total rescheduled customers.)
Just as I clocked out, I bump into the manager, and he tells/rants to me what a disaster today was. I tell him, ‘you may want to look at the CCTV of our home base, have a good rest of your night.’
Fallout:
It so happened that I was taking two weeks of leave that day, and after the leave, when I went back, I notice every shift that Andy was doing runs and never staying in home base.
Turns out, the manager on duty looked at the CCTV that very same night and heard very clearly what Andy had told me.
Conferring with our team manager, they canceled his administrator permissions on the order processing computer which he had begged our team manager for over two weeks, as well as giving him a written warning.
However, that didn’t seem enough, since while I was away, Andy decided to do this same thing to another staff member, and ended up getting a second and essentially final written warning.
Plus he made it on the frequent monitoring list of every manager (At three written warnings your employment is immediately terminated.)
The days and shifts that followed after were very pleasant, as there was not a single peep from Andy when he came into work, he directly started collecting customer items without asking.
Update after I called my friend who still works there:
Andy still works there, still has his admin privileges revoked, and is solely collecting customer items (printed with the assignment sheet, I.E. not anticipated to change; generally role assignments are written in on the day of.)
Former team manager was laid off as of January 2022 for mistreating the department, including scheduling staff outside of their availability slots, as well as multiple incidences of not following policy.
Our team’s ‘voucher budget’ increased 50% for this calendar year because of worse incidents that happened after I left the company.”
2. I Suddenly Disappeared On My Lying Ex
“I ghosted a lying ex once and it was extremely satisfying… When I was about 30 I was six months into a really good committed relationship with a woman in her late twenties. She became pregnant, moved in with me, and 9 months later we had my son.
Immediately after giving birth, she went extremely crazy and we found out she was suffering from postpartum psychosis. I had to hire a nanny to babysit this crazy jerk and keep her from hurting my son.
After 8 months in misery, I had reached my limit and decided to take her to court and sue for full custody.
I looked for advice from a few friends who had been through bad divorces and one of them said I should get a DNA test before going to court. I asked why and he said that his cousin had witnessed something but didn’t want to get involved without knowing if the kid was mine or not.
It turns out that just before getting pregnant, the cousin and my partner went on a bar-hopping bachelorette weekend with her friends. My partner ran into an ex at one of the bars, hooked up in the bathroom, and then went back to partying.
So I secretly took my son in for a paternity test and 4 months later I got the results… I was not the father… It was a lucky coincidence that my partner, her family, and ‘my son’ were going out of town for a few days to a family reunion.
My partner’s parents lived nearby and I knew where they hid a spare key. So after they left I packed up all her and the kid’s stuff in garbage bags and left it all in her parent’s living room. I also left a copy of the DNA test and a long letter explaining how she fooled me and all the crazy stuff she had done in the last year.
I was renting a nice house in a nice neighborhood and a friend was always telling me he wanted first dibs on my place if I ever moved. I called him and he jumped at the chance to take over my lease. I told the landlord my story and she was OK with my friend moving in.
I packed all my stuff in a U-haul, quit the job that I hated, and left. I found better work in another state and never looked back. I told my friend that he needed to change the locks ASAP because my significant other was going to freak out when she came back.
I also asked my friend to tell my now ex that I had simply moved into an apartment across town, not that I had left the state… Everything else I heard from friends after I left…
So a few days later my ex comes home and can’t get in the door and flips out when my friend opens it but won’t let her in.
She calls the cops and is in the process of giving the police a hard time when her mom calls her and tells her that all of her stuff is on the living room floor and she needs to go there right now. My friend said it was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer.
Now I was fine leaving it at that and keeping it between us, but the next day our friends were calling me asking what had happened, and that my ex was trash-talking me all over town and saying that I had abandoned them on the street.
So I told everyone what she had done and they were like, ‘what a jerk’… So for the next two weeks, I get e-mails from my ex telling me that I’m a jerk for abandoning them and I need to man up and take care of my responsibilities, never acknowledging that she sneaked behind my back and got pregnant by another man, such a psycho…
Then word got out and she sent me e-mails telling me that I was a jerk, I ruined her reputation, and she was humiliated. The whole time she thought that I was still living and working nearby. She sent me hate mail for six months before she realized that I was in another state.
I heard that she eventually found some loser sugar daddy to take care of her and her kid. And now she’s a miserable heavy drinker.”
1. Lazy Coworker Is Hated By Everyone
“I had a coworker who was really the laziest piece of work in the building. It got so bad that I and my two other coworkers (only 4 of us, total) have been taking pictures, and piling evidence together to turn in to our manager to get her fired. He couldn’t fire her based on what we told him without the proof, so he asked us to do a little recon.
We had more than enough stuff at this point to get her fired, but she really annoyed me when I came back to work last night.
We’re so short-staffed, getting a day off is almost impossible. We’ve all been worked to the bone, and we’re all dying.
I’m the only graveyard shifter, so if I need a day off, I’m on call while one of my other coworkers tries to do my job for me. If they need help, they have to call me and I have to walk them through it.
It was my birthday two days ago, so I went to a bigger city to celebrate for two days, and the lazy coworker made the other coworker trade shifts with her so she could celebrate Thanksgiving (with no regard to other coworker wanting to celebrate Thanksgiving with her family.)
I come back to work, and she didn’t do half my job.
Which is irritating in itself, but she was hired for the graveyard. She didn’t like it, so she switched to the first shift (which is a completely different job.) So she knows how to do my job, she’s just lazy and didn’t do it.
I come back, find she hasn’t done all of this, and I leave a long, nasty note to her telling her if she’s going to trade shifts with someone else to take over my job while I’m away, she better do my goddarn job instead of carelessly doing it and leaving me to clean up her mess.
She replied with something along the lines of ‘You’re not the boss and can’t tell me what to do, don’t treat me like a dog,’ but knew I came back at night, so she quit, just left, so she wouldn’t see me again, but left catty little notes all over our log for me before she left.
When I get into work today, I laugh at all the stuff she’s saying because she’s pretty much just agreeing with me, but thinks she’s being smart. So I, and my two other coworkers are laughing at her. They leave, I realize I spent so much time laughing over these notes that I forgot to clock in.
I fill out a missed punch log, and go to put it in my manager’s box, and see she left him a copy of our log in his box for him to read a note she left about guests that stayed.
But she put a completely different log in his box, than what she left for us.
So I took the one she put in the box, shredded it, copied the page she left in our logbook, and put that one in his box, so he could have a good chuckle too.
And also, my coworker wants to fork her yard.
I’m not against it.”
