People Talk About The Revenge That Made Them Feel Good Afterward
15. Bully Me Into Selling My Car To You? You'll End Up Behind Bars
“So, about 8 years ago I’m selling a used car. The engine light was on, the AC needed recharging, and the fuel pump or something was out. So I go to my local, trusted, sales site. The ad goes up with a few pictures and the words: ‘I work weird hours so I may not be able to accept a phone call. Please only text me.’ Yay to working Swings and Midnights, right?
It’s actually college classes, but the same thing for me.
So a few days in, I get a pretty standard text, ‘Hi, I’m Matt. Is your car still for sale?’ Matt isn’t his real name, but you get the idea. So I text back that it is. A few standard texts about price, why is the engine light on, who did you get the quote from (I listed an approximate price on the repairs as quoted from my trusted mechanic), and whatnot, and we go back and forth.
The next day I get a text from him saying ‘Are you gonna take all your stuff out of the car before you sell it to me or is that my job?’ Unwarranted hostility? Really? Oh my god, MAN!
He’s not the only interested party, so I text him back, ‘I’m not selling the car to you, so don’t worry about it.’ I never said I would sell it to him, he never asked if he was the only interested party, and others were arranging test drives already.
I didn’t need him and his less than full price, partial-commitment. And the stuff he was complaining about is three textbooks and a bag I keep clothes in. FOUR THINGS!
This guy didn’t like to take no for an answer and starts calling, and texting about how my car’s paint is peeling (true, but the pics and description said so), and how dare I ask so much ($1000) for a piece of trash car.
I started replying for a time, telling him he wasn’t going to get the car, that I had other interested buyers, so he didn’t need to worry about it, etc. Then things got PERSONAL.
This site gave you the option to link to social media so you could post at both places at the same time. So I had. I didn’t have my privacy settings turned down as it was still early into social media’s absolute reign, and I actually trusted the site at the time.
Silly me, I know. I hadn’t anticipated that he would be able to find my info through the website’s post and find my name, my location, pictures of my kid, my mother-in-law’s obit, etc. Surprise me, he did.
He starts texting me about how I should be ashamed of myself for saying no to him, a muscular dude, and me being a quite round female.
He included a picture in one text, and he wasn’t the ‘muscular, built’ man he claimed to be. He looked like a bean pole with 2 ab muscles, so… what, dude? He asked me if I even knew everything about cars or if I made the post while on my period so I didn’t know what I was talking about. He texted that I should be lucky I was already married or else he would come to my house and ‘show me how a real man handles a little jerk’ (he got close but didn’t have an address and the way my address pulls up on GPS, he never would find my apartment — thankfully!)
Since I was in college at the time and needed a more flexible schedule, I worked as a school crossing guard. Every 2 weeks or so, we’d go in to sign our time cards in order to get paid. This crossing guard gig was hired through my local PD. Not all crossing guard gigs are the same, but this one was.
During one of these visits into the office, I was using my phone while I was waiting for my boss to get to me, my name being low in the alphabet.
I hadn’t yet blocked the dude as it hadn’t been long since this started and I was hoping it would fizzle on its own. I didn’t check my phone in class, choosing to turn it off to avoid being on it the entire day, and I was often flooded with several hours of texts all at once. What I saw on my phone drove me over the cliff!
He started texting about pictures I had posted on social media about my 8 (or 7) year old son! He had just majorly crossed the line!!!
The cleanest version of his texts included things like ‘Your kid is just as ugly as you are. I hope you don’t plan on him leaving home to get a wife anytime soon.’ And how a smudge of dirt on his face from a day at the zoo looked like I beat him.
I didn’t sell you a car and you’re taking out your rage by threatening to harass me and accusing me of beating my kid?!?
‘OH HECK NO!’
Apparently, I was loud when I said what I did because my boss stepped right over to me next and asked what was wrong. Great person. 10/10. Would boss again. I told her that I was getting these abusive texts from a rando that tried to buy my car.
I told her I was about to erase the texts and block him, but she’s like, ‘No, wait don’t do that. Let me see your phone.’ So happy I didn’t delete them because this next part still makes my heart soar!
I offer and she takes my phone, reading all the sick and vile things he texted to me. She tells me to wait until she’s cleared the lobby of the other crossing guards, so I do.
She then tells me to follow her behind the security doors at the PD Station, still having my phone. I don’t know what’s happening, but I liked and trusted her, so I do. I follow her back to her office where she works on her computer, referring to my phone on occasion. She asks if all I have is the phone number or if I got his name too?
I tell her I only got the first name, and scroll to the text where he introduced himself. A semi-uncomfortable amount of time later, she hands back my phone.
Something to mention, my boss isn’t just administrative. I didn’t know it at the time, but she’s a full-on Lieutenant in the local PD. She came up the ranks from patrol, moving to a position where she exclusively investigated child/elder/disabled abuse complaints before moving into her current desk position.
Needless to say, she didn’t take people threatening harm to kids lightly. Because I hadn’t blocked the number, I still had the text messages with the dude’s name, and she had used it to cross-search him and the phone number. Long story short, she knew exactly who he was. She says not to worry, but don’t delete or respond to his texts anymore; she had it.
If it got worse, I should call her or 911 as appropriate right away. Unconcerned and happy she had the situation in hand, I leave and go to class.
When I’m back to the office to sign my next timecard 2 weeks later, I had several unread texts from the guy. I had filtered them so I didn’t see them pop up and hadn’t read them.
I had sold the car (for full asking price), and had all but forgotten the entire situation. My boss tells me to wait for her again as she had something else for me to sign, and I again return to her office. She briefly explains what she had for me was an actionable complaint that she needed me to sign from my issue 2 weeks ago.
I remember everything all over again. She must see my face because she tells me not to worry and that she can tell me what’s going on more after I actually sign the form. So I do. This is the best situation anyone could have asked for.
The phone number was tied to many people as the provider was known for cheap cell service for those that were desperate for a way to contact people/services/employment.
But with the name Matt (again, fake name), she was able to find out who was messing with me. She then got a Driver’s License, which led to an address, which led to a police report for possible domestic violence. Fall the rabbit hole some more, and you find out that this dude had 5 kids by 4 women, and he was in arrears on his child support to them all.
Hadn’t been paying for 10+ years, and it was in the neighborhood of 30-50k if memory serves. But he somehow, just 2 weeks ago, requested a title transfer for a new-to-him, quite fancy old car. I don’t remember the kind, but think ‘high-end car show and massive insurance premiums.’
Being so far in arrears meant that my boss was able to place a seizure order on the car so it could be sold to pay back the child support.
One of the baby mamas lives in a state where fleeing child support meant you could have a warrant issued for your arrest. When she called the interested parties in that state to see if they wanted her to execute the arrest warrant, they said ‘Yes, with much haste!’ (That that was a funny turn of phrase, so I always remembered it). One conversation later, and my boss was able to determine that he was using the brother’s social security number on his employment forms to avoid child support garnishments.
This is all sorts of illegal, so she notified the guy’s HR department so it could be corrected. They informed her he would be fired for fraudulently submitting false documents. She then told me that about 4 days ago, she had executed the warrant on the dude for Felony Child Abandonment and that the state he was to be held for was already on route to pick him up!
It carried an 8-12 year sentence, and he still had to pay his child support!
I could have dealt with the comment, I could have dealt with the not taking no for an answer, even dealt with the cyberstalking… a little. BUT, when your twisted mind okays you to bring my kid into the picture, you did cross the line! If you would have stopped at no, you wouldn’t be in jail right now!”
14. Karen Gets Banned From Her Favorite Place For Half A Year Over A Burger
If she didn’t act like a crazy person, this wouldn’t have happened.
“I currently work at my local casino, at the Deli. I enjoy it, my co-workers, the food, and the customers (most of the time).
So one night, we were busy, and we only had two cashiers.
Usually, this isn’t an issue, as we can work fast and get things done. But tonight, there was a customer we will call Karen, who was waiting for her food.
Everything was fine, and she was polite until she got her food. She had a salad, a burger, and something else. I had put the salad on the top of the bag of food so that the heat from the other food didn’t warm it up.
And she just started getting a tone with me.
Now, this isn’t something that bothers me, as I deal with intoxicated people and rude people constantly. But she started raising her voice, asking, “Excuse me! I was supposed to have a burger in here! Where is it?”
I was confused because the burger was right there in front of her. I told Karen that the burger is right there, on top of her other food.
She glared at me and picked it up. She then opened the burger up, and I swear I saw her face go light red.
“Hey! You!” she screams at me. I’m kind of annoyed at this woman at this point but decide to keep my cool and ask what’s wrong. She pulls the bun off one side and shows me mayo on the bun. “There was supposed to be NO mayo on my burger!
I told that woman so!”
I sighed and just took it back to the kitchen, so they could remake it. I told her that the food is being remade and that we were sorry about the mistake. Now, it generally takes like 10 minutes to make the burger and get it ready. On top of that, we were busy, so it took like 1 minute more or two.
Not even 6 minutes later, as I’m serving someone soup, I hear Karen’s voice again. “Hey! Sir! What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes now! What’s the holdup?” I calmly tell her that the food should be out in about another 2 or 3 minutes, and she starts huffing at me and saying to me about how this is ridiculous and she shouldn’t have to wait.
I simply ignored her and continued taking food out.
Two minutes later, her burger comes out, and I bring it to her. She then demands we remake her tater tots because she “had to wait to eat them and now they’re cold.” I tell her that they were nice and hot when I brought them to her and that she had a chance to eat them and that I would not be remaking them.
She looked bright red at this point and asked me for the manager. I called her and told her that she’d have to wait for a while and that the manager was busy. She then told me that she doesn’t have time to wait and demanded her now. I told her that there’s nothing I can do if she’s not willing to wait.
I walk off and grab more food.
As I’m preparing some soup, she starts up again. “Hey! What’s your name?” I’m at this point, sick and tired of dealing with this woman, and just ignore her. I call out the food, the people pick up their orders, and she’s still sitting there asking for my name. I didn’t feel like telling her, so I just told her it wasn’t any of her business.
She starts saying it louder and telling people to watch out for me, cause I’m “causing trouble.” At this point, I’ve gone beyond done with this woman, and I tell her that if she doesn’t stop harassing me, I’ll get security involved. She looks at me for a minute but then says, “Go ahead. I’m an elite member here; they can’t do anything to me.”
I call security, and they come down to talk to her. She tells them how I am the one “harassing her” and that all she wanted was her burger remade. They ask me about it, and I tell them what happened. Now, apparently, she had threatened to talk to the general manager of the whole casino (which didn’t phase me because like everyone knew him), and Security tells me that, apparently, I’m the one who should have just given her my name.
I told them that I am certainly not obligated to and that I wasn’t gonna be harassed and let it slide. So, I hatched a little plan of my own. My dad happens to be pretty high up in the casino, and I’m native American, so my tribe runs the casino also. I told my dad about it, and he knew who Karen was. He talked to the higher-ups at the casino and sat Karen down telling her that the harassment will be stopping right quick.
I thought that would be the end of it, but a week later, she shows up at the Deli and starts her shenanigans again. This time, she starts harassing my coworker. Now, I am not gonna have that, so I just called security again. This time, I told them when they got down there that this is her second time doing this to us, and that we were sick of it.
Security again comes and deals with her, and she leaves. I, at this point, know that they aren’t going to deal with her. So, I write a complaint and have my coworker do the same to the council of the casino. These people are basically my family and listened to what I had to say.
The next day, I find out from a friend of mine, who works in security, that Karen actually got banned from the casino, for a solid 6 months.
You couldn’t imagine the smile on my face when I heard that. She had been kicked out, for a whole 6 months. It was a really nice feeling.
The kicker is, I ran into her at a store, and she was infuriated. “HEY, YOU! DELI BOY!” I turned around and saw Karen pushing a cart with her kids. She starts screaming at me about how I’m a liar and that it’s my fault that she’s no longer allowed there for 6 months.
I look her dead in the eyes, and I tell her that she shouldn’t have been such a raging witch and that I didn’t feel any remorse about getting her kicked out. She was taken aback by this and just walked off muttering something to herself.
It’s been about a month now, so No Karen for another 5. But I’ll be ready for her when she comes back.”
Another User Comments:
“Since she harassed you away from work, ask for a personal order of protection. That means she can’t come to your house or your workplace and leave someplace if she sees you there.” MikeSchwab63
13. Call Me Lazy? I'll Make You Suffer For It
“So, this happened a few years ago on a relatively large project. We were building a four-level house from the ground up. At the time, I was 23 working with my dad (the boss) and my step mom’s cousin, Max.
Max is an older gentleman in his 50s, who is for a lack of a better word, gross.
He is the type of person to knock something over that injures you and laughs and tells you to be careful next time.
Needless to say, he doesn’t think. I (23, female at the time) can do what he can. So, he likes to refer to me as ‘Girl.’
Now onto the main part of the story. We had just gotten joists and trusses for the top two levels and the roof.
It is also 6 pm, also known as universal quitting time for construction workers (unless you work for my dad).
Max who has been working with us long enough to know we don’t quit until after we’ve cleaned up has vanished.
Dad looks around, “Where’s Max?”
I shrug.
“Go inside and get him.” (We lived just down the street from this job.)
So, I go and find Max sitting on the couch in his dirty sweaty clothes with a cold one in his hand half gone.
“Done already, lazy girl?”
This is a new one, and I’m livid.
“Dad says we aren’t done.”
He grumbles but downs the rest of his drink down and follows me out. We get back, and my dad is already moving some of the joists into place and orders me and Max to bring the rest. Sourly, I do as asked and grab one.
Max messes around and makes comments about me under his breath.
“Come on, lazy girl!” This one he says loud enough for everyone to hear as if I was a sled dog.
I think, lovely.
Dear readers cue my petty revenge. I grab one end and do a shuffling walk thinking at most I’ll hit his knee. (Painful but no lasting harm.) I hear that sound that I’m pretty sure every guy knows as a gasp/wheeze/pained cry.
I turn around to look. Max is standing directly behind the joist holding squarely in front of his junk looking like he wants to vomit.
I may have done it a couple more times. I was not called lazy girl again.
Before anyone defends him and tells me I’m awful, let me tell you how he KNOWS he is supposed to carry these on his side.
Also, he never once changed positions over the dozen different ones we moved. He simply wanted me to carry more weight.”
12. Give Special Treatment To Family Working Here? Get The Place Shut Down For Good
They’ll regret it all.
“I was working for a privately run correction facility (PCF for short and anonymity) and had been doing so for nearly 10 years.
Names will be omitted for anonymity reasons, even though the facility is now long since closed down.
The pay was nothing like what state or federal employees get paid, and it was a constant show of being short-handed. I worked my way up through the ranks from being a front line officer in the units, to visitation sgt, to shift commander, and finally, security specialist.
Bear with me, as this does take a bit to explain why the upward steps came. When I was a floor officer, I worked with others assigned to the same unit to get a general code of conduct going (i.e., what we would expect out of the offenders and what we would let slide within reason). Because of this, the unit we worked on ran so well that most thought of the unit as the ‘easiest unit in the facility’ to work, but it was because all of us ran it nearly identical and were consistent and fair.
Eventually, this caused my shift commander to move me to other areas as a test and eventually into visitation.
Visitation ended up being one of the most demanding positions I worked at the facility simply because prior officers had done so little and were so behind. Along with my partner (who regularly changed because of the stress of the position), we got the visitation department up to code and went from taking 5 visitors a weekend to over 80 visitors a weekend on the regular.
After doing this for roughly 3 years, I moved up to sgt of visitation, which was less stressful as it was more supervisory and handling complaints as well as necessary policy revisions.
After nearly 2 years, I moved into shift commander. Here, I identified several issues with our overtime policy to include significant favoritism issues as well as corrected several reporting flaws that we were constantly being dinged on by PPMU (Private Prison Monitoring Unit of the department of corrections in my state).
Because of this, PPMU personnel and I became very close as I worked with them on further clarifying and correcting some of the things we weren’t doing quite right. This led to creating several spreadsheets in Excel that more or less made tracking overtime, vacation, assignments, and various other little managerial things far easier to track with barely anyone having to do much other than add their employees and fill out assignments for each shift.
This allowed us to get away from favoritism and more easily spread the copious amount of overtime fairly, so everyone was doing their fair share instead of just a handful constantly being taken advantage of while also making it easier to explain monthly shortages. Higher-ups loved it, PPMU loved it, and many of the overworked front line staff were delighted by it cause it allowed them to finally get some rest after 16-hour shifts while others hated it cause they couldn’t skate by under the radar without doing their share of mandatory overtime (part of the new hire agreement was signing you understood there was mandatory overtime, and refusal could lead to disciplinary up to termination).
During this time, we had some changes in administration and the creation of a couple of positions that were required as part of our contract with the state which was re-negotiated yearly (this is important to know later on).
This included at least 1 captain per shift (originally, we had 2 lieutenants), a captain of housing (had none prior), a security specialist, also an lt position, and changing several positions from officer to sgt level.
This is where the problems started and a number of the staff started filing complaints, because while the state mandated these positions, the private company didn’t like it cutting into their profit margin and begrudgingly agreed.
However, our administration saw this as a way to get their friends in cushy positions. Company policy says to promote from within, but our administration found ways to make it seem like most internal candidates didn’t meet qualifications while hiring old buddies into newly created captain and administrative positions.
I was eventually moved to security specialist and back-up shift commander. My new role was creating facility-specific amendments to administrative regulations to ensure we were following the purpose of administrative regulations.
This entailed how our equipment was managed, key set permissions, restrictive housing unit, visitation, perimeter security, and making sure all guest/visitors/vendors/volunteers entry policies were followed to include mandatory background checks. I also ended up taking over several other Excel spreadsheets that were required to show each department in the facility was accordingly staffed the required hours per our state contract agreement.
It was quite the handful, to say the least, and by closely following the administrative regulations, I was quickly making more enemies as a lot of the issues started showing how incompetent the administration was, namely the major, housing captain, and one of the other captains that were buddies the major got hired on.
As security specialist, I reported directly to the major, deputy warden, and warden as well as by extension PPMU.
We had regular meetings to discuss issues and how to remedy them, then it was my job to author the adjustments, so the major could review and sign them along with the warden before they went into effect. By this time, I was the sole manager of no less than 5 major Excel spreadsheets in the facility used in various departments. All of which I trained each in those departments, to include major and captains, as it was to eventually become their responsibility to manage them.
This included giving them encrypted passwords if those spreadsheets ever broke/corrupted as Excel is known to do on occasions. However, this didn’t happen and I was constantly the go-to in order to get them fixed.
After a couple of years of this in comes the private corp to renegotiate the contract and suddenly my position responsibilities get reorganized into their respective captain or major responsibilities.
At this time a new captain position comes open, and I put in for it along with several others with similar experience to me, and one that has absolutely bare minimum experience but is close friends with the major and another administration sitting on the hiring board.
Needless to say, they get the position, and I get bumped to their old position as housing lt.
I ask my major why I can’t be moved back to shift commander where I can at least still work on all the policies and sheets I’ve made up to this point to which my major says to me “You aren’t a Captain, and we needed a Captain there.
Not you. Just be happy you didn’t get demoted, and stop trying to be a captain.”
I smile and reply “Ok, but you do know if you move me to housing, I no longer have responsibility for all the work I currently do as that is all security-related responsibilities, and housing has different responsibilities, right?” It is important to note that at this PCF Housing and Security acted like two different entities from one another, and Security had final say over housing, but it was housing’s responsibility to address housing issues before coming to security.
This meant moving me to Housing Lt instead of back to shift commander would mean I no longer had any right to correct them when they weren’t following the policies I had written prior, and certainly meant I had no responsibility over any of the spreadsheets they managed.
“Well, that is how it works here,” the major replied. “You just didn’t get the captain position.
I’m sure we chose the best person, and there will be no issues. Just do what your new position is because you aren’t a captain; you’re a housing lt., and you will do only what is part of that position’s assignments.” At this point, he gives me the biggest poop-eating grin as he has waited 3 years to ‘put me in my place’ for making his job harder by actually having to do his job.
“Ok,” I say and leave the room without saying any further.
Cue the nuclear revenge.
Now I had also submitted complaints of harassment and policy violations with updates as further incidents took place causing the complaint to stay perpetually open, and this was added to the complaint with documentation.
This was only another notch to a long going issue, one that various others I worked with has also joined in on as they had equally been railroaded, harassed, discriminated against (to include lost wages), and saw the nepotism taking place.
It is important to know that the policy on nepotism for this company included language stating that ‘Family and close friends could not have unfair advantages in promotion or job placement overqualified or current employees.’
Now it isn’t immediate, this change, but after a couple of months, I’m now working as a housing lt and taking care of my new responsibilities.
I’ve shed all responsibility of prior spreadsheets, policy adjustments, and anything that doesn’t have to do with my immediate department.
It is about this time when things start to go noticeably wrong.
Even though I took the time to train, assign management rights, and give password control of all work books to the responsible department heads (most of which was the major) it doesn’t take long for it all to go to crap.
The new captain doesn’t know a thing about Excel, let alone any of the reporting software a shift commander has to use sometimes multiple times a day.
They are very lacking in knowledge of AR and quickly get various offender and staff complaints. The major isn’t keeping track of the spreadsheets he is now supposed to manage (contract compliance tracking and facility entry tracking) because he is just as clueless when it comes to anything computer related, and visitation is slowly going down the drain cause none of the other captains kept open communication with the sgt/officers to help deal with issues and staffing concerns.
By this point, PPMU is very unhappy and demanding that these areas be brought up to compliance within 30 days or they will start to pursue fines against the company cutting further into their monthly profit margin by nearly $1,000 per day out of compliance for each issue on top of other fines for failure to fill contractually obligated positions. Needless to say, these are fines that add up very fast for those who don’t know.
At this point, my housing captain calls me into his office with another of the admin to give me the assignment of fixing these troubled areas.
After reviewing the assignment, I smile back and tell him “Sorry, the major told me I wasn’t a captain and that I was to stop doing captain work now that I was a housing lt. This is beyond my assigned post to fix as it requires me to tell security what to do in order to fix it.”
“We should work as a team. You don’t want the team to suffer for this, do you?” He says to me.
Then the other admin pipes in “Lt., let me get this right. You are refusing to do this because you didn’t get the captain position?”
I then give the same poop-eating grin the major gave me when he told me months earlier.
“Well, that is how it works here, isn’t it? Security manages security and housing takes care of housing unless it jeopardizes the security of the facility, then it is security’s problem, right?” I then roll my shoulders into a shrug, “I just simply lack the authority to do that job, and the major assured me that you and the other captains all had it under control.
I even showed it all to you before I was reassigned, remember?”
By this point, I can see that the captain is getting visibly upset as they are now entirely responsible for all the work I used to do. The other admin at this point looks at me again and asks, “So, are you refusing to do this assignment?”
“It isn’t that I’m refusing to do the assignment; it is just that with all my new responsibilities as housing lt.
I simply don’t have the time to do them and the work of a captain, which the major made very clear I’m not supposed to do the work of any longer as I am not a captain.” I then stand with a smile, “So, no, I am not refusing the assignment; I am following the orders of a higher superior that told me to no longer do anything outside of my assigned duties as a housing lt.
Last I checked, the post orders I signed stated I was only to do assignments that are of housing unit responsibility, which also is signed by the major and the warden. Now, if you don’t mind, I really have other responsibilities I need to get back to.” I then smile to both of them and walk out of the office as I was currently in the middle of getting vacation request and working on offender housing assignments to ensure we were in compliance with STG (security threat group) and racial balance requirements for the nearly 1,000 offenders in the facility.
About 20 days later, I receive a phone call while on vacation at 8 AM from the stand-in warden (our warden had been put on administrative leave pending investigation) along with said housing captain.
“Is this Lt.?” asks the stand-in warden to which I groggily answer, “Yes, it is. Who is this?”
“This is Stand-in Warden, and I’m sitting in the room with Housing Captain who has brought something rather startling to my attention.
He is saying that you refused to do an assigned duty that resulted in the inability to track various things in the facility, is that correct?”
At this point, I sit up in bed and answer, “Yes, that is correct, but that is beca-” I don’t even get to finish as this stand-in is clearly upset at my admission and interrupts me.
“You do realize that this is insubordinate behavior that is gross in nature, don’t you?” Anger clearly in his voice, but a controlled anger.
I can only imagine that the housing captain is sitting in the room with a poop-eating grin.
“Am I going to get to answer, or are you going to interrupt me again? It seems you have already made your mind up on the matter given the tone of your voice, sir,” I respond.
“You’re correct. I’ve decided that your negligence in performing duties as assigned is gross in nature and believe this meets the required parameters for immediate termination effective now.” He pipes back, obviously not happy with what I said.
“You do realize I will be adding this to my complaint of workplace harassment and retaliation if you do so without getting the full story, don’t you? This means that I will be adding your name to the complaint for failure to do your due diligence in getting the full story on top of the warden you are currently replacing, the housing captain sitting with you, the major, and several others for violation of your own disciplinary policy.” I’m shaking at this point, angry that this is happening and that I have to resort to this extent to get the point across.
“And yes, I do have access to all of the documents, including all current policies of the company, the current contract between the company and the state, and will pursue this if you continue with this?”
“You do what you feel is necessary, and I am doing what I feel necessary. As of this date, you are hereby terminated. You will receive in the mail the disciplinary form and decision to include a formal answer to your complaint by the week’s end.”
“You see, if you’re part of that complaint, you no longer can issue the formal answer according to policy. It will now have to come from corporate HR who will have to agree with your decision and already has copies of the complaint as well.” My voice now shaking from my own anger.
“Well, then you’ll be hearing from them, I suppose.” The phone then hangs up but not before I could hear the change in his tone of voice as well.
I wasted little time in up my complaint and notifying the corporate HR person I had been in contact with for about 6 months now.
A week later, a notice was sent to all employees that the facility would be closing their doors permanently in 90 days, and I continued to receive my full 40 hours a week pay until the day those doors closed without ever having to return to work.
I was then later allowed to file for unemployment as well as the technical reason for loss of employment was through no fault of my own. I later found out from the HR department that the facility was closed due to four major reasons:
1.) The company was no longer making any profit due to poor management decisions that lead to PPMU issuing upwards of $75,000 in fines per month on top of out-of-control over time due to shift commanders not properly tracking their shift officers overtime, vacation, or days off.
2.) Many of the administration and captains had received numerous complaints of company violations to include harassment and nepotism.
3.) PPMU investigated the qualifications of some of the recently hired/promoted administration and captains as they too were suspicious that they didn’t meet proper qualifications for the position.
This means they were entitled to back-fine all the days those positions were filled simply because they were unqualified candidates.
4.) The investigation found all complaints to be valid and would require termination of nearly all of the current administration, 2 captains, and 1 HR for failure to correct the issues meaning it was easier to just cut their losses rather than try to fix it.
Why was this nuclear revenge? Well, the state had to quickly move and relocate nearly 1,000 offenders, 250 people lost their jobs, of which 15 of them ended up fired due to policy violations resulting from the investigation of nepotism and workplace harassment.
A few had workplace discrimination and resulted in one person, who was not receiving a fair wage of others of a similar position, to receive back pay of upwards of $38,000. My start of complaints led to others filing complaints for a similar reason in the nearly two years leading up to this adding to the documentation of the issue that resulted in the closure of the facility.
Even knowing the impact this had, if I were to live through it again, I would still have done the same thing.”
11. Let's Just Say Your Event Won't Run So Smoothly
“I worked for an events hire company. We supplied everything from AV to display stands, fencing, staging, etc.
So I worked with an organizer that was looking to host a beverage festival.
We had multiple meetings and provided far, far too many quotes and prices, but eventually, it paid off and she signed off to work with us!
Fast forward about 2 weeks later, I have had little contact from her which was very unusual.
Out of the blue, she emails me saying that they had found a cheaper supplier (almost half the price!) and that we were ripping her off.
If we didn’t void the contract and return the deposit, she would take legal action. Our prices were very fair and competitive with our main competition, so this really didn’t make sense at all as to why it would be so insanely cheap.
I’ve has this happen before and in my experience, it’s just best to let these organizers go, rip up the contract and return the deposit.
If you force them to work with you, it becomes an absolute nightmare and just isn’t worth it in the long run as you work with these people for months leading up to the event. The event was still a while away as well so I was confident I could fill in the spot with another.
Fast forward to only 3 days before the festival opens and I get a call from the organizer:
Organizer: ‘You have to help me! It’s Organizer!’
Me: ‘Uhhh sure, what’s up?’
Organizer: ‘The Supplier has arrived to install and the equipment is unusable! The marquees are ripped, displays can barely stand up, they didn’t bring any AV. It’s a disaster!’
Me: ‘Okay, so before I go back to my team, are you needing everything we quoted you, right now?’
Organizer: ‘Yes! Everything!’
I go back to my team and although we had a bit on, we agreed we could supply what she needed in time, but would naturally need to charge a premium because it was really, REALLY late and meant serious overtime.
We didn’t want to do it, but pulling her out would’ve made waves in our industry and bound to get good words in the right ears due to the festival’s size.
So I call back Organizer.
Me: ‘Organizer, I have great news! We can get down there later this afternoon and we will work non-stop over the next 2 days to get this done for you.’
Organizer: ‘You are a lifesaver! Thank you all so much!’
Me: ‘Now we will require a 90% upfront payment and you can pay the remaining 10% after the install is complete. I will send you an invoice now, but please know the invoice will be a larger amount than before (approx 30% more due to overtime and just being late.
Pretty standard for an event this size).’
Organizer: ‘But we had a contract. We have a set amount. You need to honor that.’
Me: ‘You made us rip it up and threaten a lawsuit if we made you stick to it. Those are the prices. No other company in this city would be able to deliver what you are asking this late in the game.
The price is the price, you can take it or leave it.’
Organizer: ‘THIS IS CRAZY! WE HAD A CONTRACT!’ (throws some nasty words my way or how we are useless and going to get sued)
Me: ‘You have 2 hours to let me know if you want to move ahead, otherwise the stock will not be available. Goodbye.’
Long story short.
She never called back and went ahead with the other supplier.
The festival was a disaster. She had also charged independent mobile food vendors and retailers to be at this festival and charged them a premium for each spot.
The vendors constantly lost power, water and had 0 support during the show. So they naturally took her to court for their funds back as they lost funds attending the festival.
She had to pay back all the businesses that had purchased a spot at the festival through a court order and lost her business.
Then she tried to sue us and blame us for the whole catastrophe, but it didn’t go far.
Before you say it’s sad she lost her livelihood, firstly, she should have canned that event there and then.
It doesn’t take an organizer to see this was in no way going to be successful. Secondly, we found out through industry people that she has done this before, but got away with it.
So forget her. She tried to personally sue me as well. Which didn’t go far either, but still wasted a lot of my time.”
10. Okay, Mom, I'll Leave (And Not Come Back)
“This happened when I was 15.
My mom was (let’s be real, she probably still is) a mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive narcissist.
I had a terrible childhood.
When I was 13, I told her I wanted to live with my dad (they were divorced), and she told me she didn’t care what I did after I turned 18. I later figured out that this was because the child support stopped at age 18.
Fast forward to age 15. Our relationship was understandably strained. We had had guests, and she liked to use guests as a way of controlling our behavior through shame.
It’s easier to be an angsty teenager when your grown-up friends from church aren’t watching and judging everything you do.
This makes it easier for her to pretend to be a firm but loving mother all while slipping in sideways comments like velvet daggers.
Well, I decided I wasn’t going to subject myself to the whole thing and spent the day outside in the woods nearby (we lived in the mountains at the time, so it was less than 100 feet from the house).
When I saw our guests had left, I went to go back inside. My mother, perhaps unhappy at being denied a day-long emotional abuse routine, told me I wasn’t welcome and that I should leave.
My 15-year-old brain heard her words and knew that she only meant for a little while, but it also recognized that she failed to specify any timeframe at all.
So, I hiked a couple of miles to a friend’s house and asked if I could spend a couple of days there.
When my friend’s dad found out why I was there, he was angry and said I could stay as long as I needed.
I didn’t go home that evening or the next. My mom became concerned and contacted law enforcement (LE) to report me missing.
This is a big deal for several reasons. We lived in the mountains on a national park, so it was a very real possibility that I had been attacked by a wild animal, become injured while hiking, drowned, or been kidnapped.
Nobody knew of my mother’s abusive tendencies or the squalor and neglect my sister and I lived in.
Most importantly the law enforcement was the local park rangers with which she worked daily.
LE immediately contacted my dad’s side of the family to see if I had turned up there or contacted them. They promptly freaked the heck out and came to my house with lawyers on standby.
LE then hired dogs to track my scent and then everyone freaked out because the dogs tracked me to a nearby river where my trail died because the dogs couldn’t pick up any more scent.
Over the next couple of days, there were people going in and out of my house: Rangers, lawyers my family, etc. And several noticed the overpowering scent of cleaning chemicals, but only the lawyer considered why a ‘clean’ house would reek of chemicals.
LE started to canvas the nearby woods and ‘neighborhood.’ My friend’s dad came to me and asked if there was somewhere else I could stay.
He told me that he wouldn’t kick me out and didn’t want to have to lie to the police or let the dogs on his property. My friend and I figured we’d just go camping for a week or so, but instead, I looked up my dad’s side of the family and called, and they picked me up right away.
Understandably, everyone had questions.
When I told them what was happening the lawyers, horrified, pounced. A judge issued an emergency change of custody and prevented her from gaining custody until she underwent a psych eval and therapy (which my mother would never allow).
The rangers, equally horrified, completely shunned my mother, and she eventually lost her job. Since, she was only allowed to live on the park because she worked there, so she was kicked out of her house.
My friend’s father and the trackers were members of the local community and churches, and they, too, shunned my mother.
She lost her job, her house, her church, and her friends all because she told me to leave and I did.”
Another User Comments:
“You may be out now, but make sure you get the help that you need to move on from this.
You likely have CPTSD, and let me tell you, it sucks. Please get treatment, so you can move past this.” ladypbj
9. Try To Get Away With Your Crime? You'll Pay Your Dues Soon
“I once worked in retail. We had an assistant manager who was brought in after the old one moved to another store. He was a young go-getter who had successfully managed large shops before us and was touted by the store, regional, and area managers as being the person who could turn our ailing store’s numbers around… or so everybody thought…
I was a department manager, and after a few months of him being in the store, we had a few issues with inventories being off, after some investigations these discrepancies were dismissed as being handling errors.
A few months later and things were more serious, I was weekly unable to find thousands of dollars worth of stock I had personally accounted for weeks before, and the entire wrath of the company’s loss prevention teams came down on all the staff in the store.
I and a number of other staff had to regularly answer questions about our movements in and out of the store, how we handled stock, what customers were given in bags (on average I handled 60+ transactions and 120+ customers in a 9-hour shift, the questions were brutal).
The dock supervisor, who had been with the company for many years and was near retirement age soon drew the ire of the inspectors and he was questioned by police and had his life turned upside down by the company’s loss prevention department. He started investigating the matter himself, started snooping around the other staff, and quickly stumbled upon some interesting information on the assistant manager.
A person with the same first name who looked nearly identical was prosecuted for embezzlement several years earlier in a different state.
He started asking around amongst staff he trusted about the assistant manager, myself included. Things quickly started to unravel, we had a few odd stories of happenings involving the assistant manager, but nothing that said concretely that he was suspicious. Then, when one of the staff bumped into a former team member (who had mysteriously just stopped turning up for work) she immediately stopped talking when mention of the missing stock and the assistant manager was raised.
Eventually, after prompting from the dock manager, the loss prevention team interviewed the former employee, who it turns out had been threatened out of her job after she found out the assistant manager was trying to sell some of the missing stock to one of her friends. It was discovered he had a fraudulent identity and had stolen stock from the store over months and months of working there, but when it came to trial he never received a prison sentence because beyond what they had direct evidence of him stealing, they couldn’t prove his involvement in stealing the other missing stock (even though everybody knew it was him and it stopped when he was discovered).
He was fined by the courts quite severely, he did not pay the fines and quickly disappeared, assuming another name
Unfortunately, the dock manager resigned in anger at the company’s treatment of him and his family. The company did not apologize to him, nor any of the other employees who were berated by loss prevention for weeks. Several staff ended up having to take medical leave because of stress-related problems during the investigations, and afterward, we all felt as though we had been betrayed by a person we had trusted for months, and he had got out of any form of punishment other than losing his job.
A few months later, I received a frantic call in the middle of a shift from another department manager who had the day off, she was at a toy store across town and had spotted the former assistant manager. After a few phone calls within our company, the Loss Prevention Manager of our entire company (one of the largest retail chains in Australia) personally called the Loss Prevention Manager of the toy store company and told the whole story.
He was promptly fired, investigated, and then prosecuted for the same offenses as he had committed with our company there, and I’m told received a jail sentence for it. The next time I saw the former dock manager, I informed him what had happened. I think he must have grinned for the rest of the day.”
8. Never Mess With My Family
“Let me preface this story by admitting that 1) It takes two people to have problems in a marriage, and 2) my partner is the one who made vows to me, not the other people involved in the story. However, the chance for revenge simply fell onto my lap, and these other people are objectively TERRIBLE people, while my partner is not.
My man and I have been together for almost 17 years, and these past 2 years have really been trying for us both.
Teenaged kids, mental health issues, job losses, you name it.
He started a new job and got back in contact with a female friend from high school who was employed at the same place. They restarted their friendship, and I knew about it. Part of their friendship must have included venting about each other’s significant others, and they bonded over their unhappiness, I guess.
Over the next few months, they continued their friendship online only, and it eventually morphed into her sending naughty photos to him.
2 days later, she sent me snapshots of what ensued. She also shared with her man, who then threatened my partner’s life, started to harass me, and threatened to come into my workplace until I had to call the police.
While I don’t in any stretch of the imagination consider my man to be totally innocent in all this, what I think happened was that this woman found my man vulnerable and simply used and manipulated him to both make her guy jealous and try to completely destroy our relationship just to be vindictive.
I mean, wouldn’t most people delete that crap?
My life implodes for a bit, and I’m reeling.
Once I start looking into who these people are and what they’re about (who wouldn’t?!), it doesn’t take much Googling to find that this dude of hers in addition to being a slimeball is actually a fraud and a scammer with a history of selling fraudulent tickets to fake food festivals in different cities around the US, and he’s currently selling tickets to a food festival coming up in the same city that I am now a new co-director of an annual large-scale event.
So… I’m starting to know people. And don’t think the woman is innocent, she helps him promote it knowing full well he is stealing hard-earned funds from HUNDREDS of people just like he has done in the past.
Fast-forward a few weeks, and I am in an event planning meeting with the other co-director of the event and the head of the Tourism bureau for our city.
One of them brings up the shadiness of the upcoming food festival and how it must be a scam, and I tell them, “Yes, I know who is behind it, and I guarantee it is a scam.”
A couple of days later, it is in the news that there is someone selling fraudulent tickets to an event that no one has permits for (you’re welcome).
People hear this and start calling out the “organizers” as scammers and demanding refunds.
They were selling tickets as if the event were being held in a large park, and after the exposure were forced to find and secure a location which turned out to be a parking lot of a dive bar in a crappy part of town. More people demand refunds because it’s not what they were sold and there starts to be a buzz about lawsuits.
A few weeks later, I’m in another event planning meeting, and I express concern over how fraudulent events in our city may affect the reputation of other events in the city. Someone contacts the news stations and radio stations and there are investigative reports done on this upcoming “food festival.”
Again, people are super mad. Hundreds of people demand refunds, and customers that have bought tickets begin taking things into their own hands and calling vendors that the organizers claim to be taking part and find that most are not coming, the organizers were lying.
The day of the event comes, and hundreds of people still show up hoping to get what they paid for. People drove from states away with small children hoping for a fun family event. There is only 1 vendor, no drinks, no live music, no kids festival, no t-shirts, no tables or chairs. The cops are called, and the one vendor that showed up is suing because he got paid nothing.
I’ve heard the “organizers’ are being investigated for Internet Fraud. They were evicted from their home. She lost her job. Good luck finding another!
Don’t mess with me and my family. Ever.
Sadly, they’re probably currently planning more scam events in other cities.”
7. Think You Can Take Care Of Him Better? Give It A Try, I Dare You
No, seriously: give it a try.
“I used to work as a Welfare Officer in a Disable Home for residents who are mentally/physically disabled (think of it as a mini psychiatric hospice for long term patients). Most of them either have no more living relatives, family having problem taking care of them, or simply don’t want to have anything to do with them.
There’s this gentleman who is among the few who still has relatives who visit once in a blue moon.
He is very friendly although very frail, it doesn’t help that he loves to step out of his wheelchair unsupervised to do his own exercise. More often than not, he would slip during one of his workouts and bruise like a peach.
On one occasion when his niece and her man decided to make a visit, he so happened to injure himself again.
As my nurse wheeled him to the visiting area, the niece went livid the moment she saw the bruise.
Now to be fair, if you were to see your relative injured you would also question the caretaker of their competency. We don’t blame her outrage but things do get pretty ugly from time to time when they start to accuse us of not doing our due diligence and threaten to sue.
(Note: Neither she nor her family is paying a single cent for us to take care of him and on the record, he was found abandoned before the social worker took him in.)
So after an onslaught by the niece, my nurse came crying into my office and told me and my colleague about the whole ordeal.
Apparently, the niece started to scrutinize my nurse’s daily routine for her uncle, claiming to be a nurse herself from a (semi) famous hospital and could bar my nurse working in my country (she can’t).
Both my colleague and I were fuming at this point, so while my colleague is consoling my nurse, I decided to have a chat with the niece.
Me: Hi! How’s everyone doing tonight?
Resident: I’m fine! So glad to have my niece visit today even though she came at a bad time. Please tell the nurse not to take it too hard. (He obviously saw my nurse crying, the niece is now pouting.)
Niece: Hey you better tell your nurse to take care of my uncle or I’ll make sure she won’t be able to work in this country again! I’m a nurse too so don’t try to bluff me!
(At this point, her man is giving me the very apologetic look. I signal him that: I got this.)
Me: I’m truly sorry about this.
It will never happen again. Speaking of which, if you don’t mind, I’d like to find out more about (Resident’s name) here and his family situation. Like (for example) why is (Resident) here?
Niece: What’s there to find out? How can you not know? Don’t you have his case file? I thought you’re the officer here? Where is his case manager?
Go find out from him! (Getting more aggressive)
Me: Yes I am and I do have his file, and it’s also part of my job to find out more about his background so that not only can I update his profile but to take better care of him. It’s been a while since your last visit so I’d like to find out if there’s any update.
Niece: (Much taken back by what I’ve said and tone down her voice.) Oh err, he umm has his issues and my mother doesn’t want him to be around the house. You should know about his issue.
(Resident is schizophrenic, tenancy for audio hallucination.)
Me: Ah I see, such a pity. Because over here no matter what, we will always try to encourage family members to take back the resident if they can afford to.
I mean, you said so you’re a nurse right? I’m sure you can provide much better care for him than us at his own home where he would be more comfortable. (Smile)
At this point the niece is all lost for words, jaw wide open but not a peep.
My resident is nodding his head profusely and even her man gave an, Oooh snap!
look.
Niece: I… I… I’ll come back again.
Me: I’ll look forward to your next visit, I’m sure (Resident) here will too.
Back in the office after I told my colleague, he gave me a huge high-five while my nurse thanked me for standing up for her.
The niece did come back a few weeks later and brought a (relatively small) box of chocolate to thank all the staff for their hard work.
None of us took any.”
6. Take My Fishing Spot? You Won't Catch A Thing, Buddy
“So, back in high school, I was in what you might call a “problem class” just about everyone was rowdy, rude, and didn’t listen to the teachers. I, on the other hand, was an introvert who liked to keep to himself, but that didn’t exempt me from the collective punishment our class frequently got, so I tended to resent not only the class that got me in trouble for doing nothing, but the teachers who enacted it as well.
One day the school decided to take a new direction in punishment and started what they called “enrichment activities.” Instead of giving us extra homework or detention, they’d send us on field trips to local areas to do different activities like cleaning up litter or volunteering at a soup kitchen. I loved this because not only was I getting less homework, but I often didn’t need to be around my classmates, who would take this time to goof off with their own friend groups.
Eventually, our enrichment activity took us to a park outside our small city where a nature center put on a show of all the rescue animals they were allowed to bring (a big snake that was a pet but was released into the wild, a red-tailed hawk they were nursing back to health, etc.), and after that, we had a choice, we could either go on a long hike, or we could go fishing.
I love nature, and I visit my cousin’s cabin once every summer, so I chose to go fishing, I even asked beforehand if I could bring my own rod and tackle, I was told yes, especially since the school was footing the bill for the rest of the rods and the bait.
So when they separated us into the two groups for our activities I was kind of surprised at how small the fishing group was, it was just me and 5 others, but I figured it was for the best since fewer people meant less noise to scare the fish away, right?
Nope.
As soon as I noticed who else signed up for fishing I realized that it was a group of the loudest most rambunctious group of teenage boys in the school, who thought they’d be the only ones to sign up so they could just hang out, but unfortunately, I did sign up and actually wanted to fish so they were stuck fishing.
And they let me know, as soon as my hook hit the water they were loudly complaining about how boring this was and trying to get the chaperones to let them go somewhere else, but to no avail, eventually I got sick of them and told a chaperone I was going further down the lake to try and find a better spot, but really I was just trying to get away from the noise.
Once I found a nice spot I pulled out my best lure and spent some time fishing, and fairly quickly caught something. I reel it in and I had caught a pretty nice sized smallmouth bass.
I ran back to the group to show everyone, (mostly because the chaperones always insisted on getting pictures of these events) and the boys went from complete disinterest to excitement very quickly.
Now that they saw someone could actually catch something they wanted to catch something too. I felt a fair amount of pride, for about 5 seconds.
As soon as I released the bass and went back to my spot the whole group followed me, staying as loud as they were before. I tried to tell them that they’d scare off the fish but they didn’t listen, so I tried to go to a new spot and they followed me there too.
At this point, I just wanted to fish in peace. I ask a chaperone to get them to stop following me but she chastised me for getting them interested then not teaching them how to fish better.
Eventually, I got sick of them and hatched an idea. I swapped out my lure for a regular hook and marched over to a spot with a lot of reeds and Lilly pads.
I told everyone that fish like to hide in the reeds from predators (true) and that the best way to catch fish during the daytime is to try and get their hooks in the middle of the reeds (not true) and they believed me.
Pretty soon they were getting frustrated as their hooks got caught on reeds. One guy cast his line so far it got caught on a branch, another pulled so hard trying to get his lone out of the reeds that he broke the crappy rod the school bought, and eventually, they all gave up and went back to the first spot to hang out again and I got to spent the rest of the trip fishing in peace.”
5. Force Me To Take Notes? It's My Way Or The Highway
Why some professors “force” their students to take notes in college is beyond me.
“This happened in 1982 when I was in college. At the time, I was studying Systems Analysis, learning all the new computer languages (COBOL, Fortran, Pascal, et al) and putting them into practice. Most of the teachers were great, though they all seemed to be reluctant to teach us too much for fear we’d end up taking their jobs.
(I discovered that out quite quickly.) Anyway, the teacher who taught us Fortran was lazy.
Lazy to the point where he wasn’t actually teaching us at all; he was just writing parts of a program on the board and having us copy it down.
Now then, I freakin’ hate writing notes. I always have and I always will. In college every single class I had, except for his, I was able to use a mini-recorder to tape lectures.
I then had someone transcribe the notes for me, and I was golden.
Only one teacher required handwritten notes, which they clearly mentioned in the syllabus they handed out in the first class. He was not that one. This matters later.
So, as I said, my Fortran teacher just wrote parts of a program on the blackboard. It was a 90-minute class, and he was able to do this about 5 times during class.
Like the good college students that we all were, we diligently copied down what he wrote and just before class ended he gave us our reading assignment (read chapters 1-3, etc.).
By the time the second class ended, I knew there was no way I was going to do this all year long.
Here’s where the malicious compliance comes in.
Before the next class, I went out and bought a few disposable cameras.
As class settles in, he comes in and just starts writing on the board. People start writing. I’m sitting there waiting. Once he finishes and sits at his desk, I take a picture of the board.
He didn’t notice the first couple of times I did this, but with the third picture, he asked me what I was doing. I said I didn’t want to make any mistakes (lie), and I decided to take notes this way.
He fumed, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Fast forward to the week before winter break. He informs us that he wants to review all our notes on our final class before the break (3 classes from that point) and, looking directly at me, they all must be “written out.” I knew he was specifically trying to jerk me around as this was not in the syllabus, but I was ok with it.
By that point, with the exception of these final classes, I already had my notes ready to go.
What he didn’t know, the person who transcribed my notes was my mother. She had been a legal secretary for most of her adult life and typed, on average, 80 words a minute. It took her about 20 minutes to do a class worth of notes for me and she was happy to do so since it meant I’d do well in class since I had good notes.
The final day before break, we all hand in our notes for him to review and I made sure mine was the one on top of the pile.
Everyone else had their written out notes, except for me. He looked at my notes and tossed them aside saying they were unacceptable.
Teacher: “These need to be handwritten!”
Me: “You never said HAND written; you just said that they had to be written out, and they are.”
We went back and forth a bit before one of the other students piped up and said that her notes were also typed out and that he definitely said “written” not “handwritten.”
If plumes of smoke could come out of his ears like in the cartoons, that’s what would’ve happened at the point.
He rambled on a bit, but then reluctantly acquiesced. Since his syllabus didn’t specify “handwritten” notes, other students followed suit the rest of the year and started doing notes the way I did it.
His system had been beaten.
One final note: The final two weeks of the semester, we’re supposed to now run the program he’s been writing down and see what happens. This was his “final exam.” People do tend to make mistakes when writing down notes, so he gives us two weeks to do this because inevitably, there will be errors, and he wants us to learn how to correct errors.
I ran the program correctly the first time (the program noted how many times a student ran it to come to its proper conclusion), and I essentially had 2 weeks off then. I should’ve gotten a solid A+ in the class, but he knocked it down to a B+ because I didn’t take down notes properly. No, I followed your rules to the letter.”
Another User Comments:
“I get that the act of writing helps some people process information, but note-taking does nothing for my learning. Same with listening to someone talk for an hour.
I probably got 10% of my university knowledge from lectures and the other 90% from textbooks and the internet. I need to be able to flip forwards and back and take time to segway into another topic if I don’t understand the premise.
With a lecture, the moment I don’t understand something in real-time, I’m off the rails, and the rest of it is lost on me. And if I already understand something, it’s hard to pay attention while it’s being repeated, and I get bored.” tsloteconomist
Reply:
“I’m dyspraxic and really have a hard time writing. If I have to write things manually, there’s no way I can properly think about what’s being said as well; I have to hope it’s all on the board, so I can digest it later.
Also – what kind of class does the professor want to see your notes? That’s just weird. They’re MY notes and could be taken in whatever manner or language I darn well please (if I do write stuff, I use some shorthand like three dots for “therefore” and a few others).” Xaphios
4. Think It's Hilarious That You Didn't Tip Me? I'll Egg Your House
“Years ago, I delivered pizzas. We made our income on tips, not the measly hourly wage. I took a delivery to a townhome with 4 or 5 people in there. Parked the car, brought the pizza to the door, they paid, and no tip.
Ok, well, that happens sometimes. So I headed back to my car, walking down the sidewalk. When I got to the end of the sidewalk and almost to the car, they opened the door again and yelled ‘Oh, we forgot to give you something.’ So, happily, I turned around and walked toward the door, and right when I got up there, they slammed the door in my face.
Now I saw them all standing in the front window, pointing at me and howling laughing – just having an outright hoot at my expense.
At that moment, I thought to myself, you jerks are gonna pay for that. So, I finished my shift (I closed that night), went straight to the grocery store, bought some drinks and an 18 pack of eggs. About 1 am I went by the house and parked my car down the street a bit.
I first placed 6 eggs under the doormat. Then I sat back and pelted the house with the rest of them, sometimes throwing 2 at a time. Hope you enjoyed your little laugh time suckas! Have fun cleaning that up tomorrow! Still laughing…”
3. Play With My Fate? I'll Use You As Bait For Your Untrained Dog
Sometimes things come back to bite you later.
“Last summer, I started helping this guy with a huge project he wanted to pursue. He was a lobbyist for the ‘smoking stuff’ legislation or something like that, and after spit-balling a few ideas, he was set on bringing me into the project.
I ended up spending countless hours putting together projected budgets, yearly plans and networking yields and yadayadayada. He is super impressed and tells me about this super-private party in LA that he can get me into, on the condition that I get him some face-time with the host. I’m confident I can do it, having coached a nationally winning speech team and decide sure; my 22 years here on earth have been a struggle.
Maybe this is my chance at fate. I can’t afford a plane ticket, and he can’t pay for my travel he says.
This is where I should have drafted up contracts.
I say ok, I’ll drive out there. I have barely enough in savings to get there and back.
Fast forward 1 week. I’m 2,000 miles into my journey (with my dog), arriving in LA and freshening up at my cousin’s place, and he calls me asking for a ride from the airport.
He says he’ll book us a hotel room. I pick him up from some small airport in Southern LA. We finally find a hotel, and he springs for a presidential suite… I didn’t care at this point; I just wanted to get him this meeting and get paid and launch this project that I had become very attached to.
We arrive at the party, and he looks like he spent a few thousand on clothes, and I had spent over half my savings getting here.
I work the Marrakesh House meeting and greeting, and he buries himself in a bottle and smokes. Towards the end of the night, I’m talking with this interesting old fellow, and the host joins us. The older man compliments me on my inertia (for lack of a better term at the moment), and the host and I start chatting. Before long, the host is completely absorbed in my grasp of my generation and is dreaming right along with me.
My founder is nowhere to be found.
Finally, we’re all in the host’s private talk room. And, let it be known, I am NOT good at asking for funds. I was raised by a single mom and have always been able to make the best and make due. So that’s why my “friend” came. This is his forte, but he is so messed up and enthralled with the one woman in the room.
The host is looking at me like, “Kid, you’ve got it all wrong, I’ll help you but not this loser.” Party ends soon after, we receive nothing (to my knowledge, I lost track of he who shall not be named a few too many times that night) and both fall asleep.
The next day, I wake up and am taking care of my dog and the car, and whatshisface keeps calling me about breakfast. Ends up, he had a business meeting with one of his higher-ups from Washington (another lobbyist) and needed me to spit some game.
I got there too late. My partner messed up and was cut out of Washington’s loop for some seedy practices, and he decides to go home. Not answer any of my emails or calls about payment or compensation. He cuts me out, I move on, fall in and out of love on my way back across America, expanding my life experiences tenfold with barely any money left in my billfold.
I get back to the Midwest broke. I can’t get a place for a while and anything in my price range won’t allow dogs. Luckily, my family stepped in and looked after my faithful companion.
Fast forward a year +, I’m standing outside of work on a break and whatshisface comes strolling by with a Rolex and a year-old pit, clearly untrained. Word had gotten around how he kinda screwed me over, and he was clearly on the defense.
I smile at the dog, play it cool with him and ask if his dog likes bones. He said that would be great! I go inside and come back out with the biggest pork bone I can find; it’s massive. I set it on the ground for his dog and put my smoke out. Signal that my break is over, time for us to part ways.
Jerk picks the bone away from his dog and tries telling it to sit. I smile as the dog just looks at the bone. I say “goodbye” completely satisfied as he then proceeds to walk around downtown with his pitbull running up his expensive pants biting at the bone that he holds high above.
For the past 9 months, I blamed that guy for much of my suffering.
I blamed him for me not having my dog anymore. I blamed him for me starting all over. I blamed him for going around town and spreading lies and rumors about me (because he tried to take my project and run with it and fell flat on his face; he did a ton of publicity and ended up pointing the finger at me. I just wanted to be compensated).”
2. Lie To Me About Some Guy You Met? I'll Sabotage Your New Fling And Your Life
“My girl of 5 years at the time and I were going through a rough patch. I had just entered my final year of medical school and was eternally busy.
Even though we lived together, we never really spent time together anymore. Prior to that, we spent practically all of our free time together; nearly all of our friends had moved off to separate colleges, and we didn’t have time to visit them. Because of the sudden lack of free time, she got very lonely and joined IMVU and Second Life and other similar things.
She would tell me all about the conversations she had with these people, and at the time, I was happy because it meant I could spend more time on my studies, and I wouldn’t feel bad about being unable to spend time doing things with her.
One day, she told me she got into roleplaying. At first, I was a little weirded out, but she assured me that it was entirely innocent and platonic; she even invited me to watch.
I could tell she was really excited and having a good time, so I pushed aside my feelings because I still felt like I was wronging her.
One day, she told me about this guy she met in this space. He was funny and smart and I would like talking to him, etc. She and he became best friends very fast. She found out he lived pretty close, about 30 minutes away.
They exchanged phone numbers, and they would text all the time. I didn’t think too much of it because she had my very deepest trust, and honestly I didn’t have time to think anything about it. I have ADD, so keeping focus on my schoolwork even with medication is still hard as heck.
This went on for a few months. Eventually, she started changing, although it was so slow, I didn’t notice.
She stopped telling me about what went on online, she was never more than an arm’s reach from her phone, and she changed her passwords on all of her devices. I was so afraid of losing her that I didn’t push anything or ask about why she was changing. I figured it was all my fault because I was unable to spend time with her.
This continued until it was practically the norm. We’d wake up, eat breakfast, I’d go off to class, and she’d go off to work, we’d come home, I’d study and she would text him and chat online, we’d eat dinner, usually in front of our laptops while I was studying, and we’d go to sleep.
One day, though, I decided I needed to change for her benefit.
I talked with my doctor and got my prescription changed. I was able to focus much better, and as such, we were actually able to do things again! She was ecstatic, and our relationship improved 5 fold. The major downside was that my intimacy was practically annihilated, but she assured me that wasn’t a problem. Everything was going great until the revelation.
One day, while studying, my laptop crapped out on me.
I asked if I could use hers, and although, she was hesitant, she let me use her laptop, although she never gave me the password. Even though this was normal at this point, I could still tell something was off. Despite this, I was too focused on my work to care. Right as I was finishing up, a Skype message comes up. It was her friend from online, the one she constantly texted. I realized at that moment that I never heard about what happened between them anymore; in fact, I’d completely forgotten about him.
I opened up the chat window and started scrolling up. What I saw absolutely floored me. Before she came back, I quickly installed a RAT, and I downloaded main.db (the Skype chat logs) and gave her laptop back like nothing happened. She didn’t notice a thing.
Later on, I opened her chat logs, and to this day, I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just broken up with her then, but my curiosity got the better of me.
For months, they had been sending explicit messages to each other. They’d webcammed for hours, and the messages I saw… She said things to him she’d never said to me. She called him her master. There were dozens of pictures sent. When he got mad at her, she begged for his forgiveness. I discovered she had started paying for his internet and phone bills because she couldn’t stand to be without talking to him.
And it wasn’t just inappropriate messages. They also sent truly heartfelt messages to one another. Love was tossed about frequently. She said the only reason she hadn’t left me is because I gave her whatever she wanted. What I felt at that moment is still the worst feeling I had ever experienced. I was instantly nauseated, my vision narrowed, my heart started pounding, and my b***d ran cold.
Anyone who has been two-timed knows the feeling. It’s comparable to hearing a loved one has been severely injured or killed.
For about two or three weeks, I was in a deep depression. Here she was, sending him all these messages, but she seemed so happy with me! And what’s more, she was the only one I had in my life at the time. All my other friends had fallen by the wayside in favor of her.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
One night, though, something just snapped. I wasn’t going to stand for this, and she NEEDED to pay for what happened. I developed a multi-step plan for revenge. I lost something that night, and since then, I no longer trust anyone else, nor do I really feel strongly about anything anymore.
Using the data I got from the RAT/keylogger, I accessed her Skype account and started sabotaging their relationship.
I would act as her; I acted belligerent, scheduled for webcamming sessions and didn’t show up, told him not to text her phone because I was getting suspicious, etc. Luckily, he was the type to get angry easily. Furthermore, he knew nearly all of her close online friends, oftentimes better than she did.
One day, she came to me, tears in her eyes, and told me that all of her friends had, for some reason, started hating her.
She was crying because she was all alone, but I assured her that we still had each other. Now, all of our free time was spent together again. We even started meeting our old friends again. Our relationship grew ever stronger, or so she thought.
I also started lifting weights. Now if any of you know anything about working out, you know that to gain muscle, you need to eat.
A lot. Luckily, I did the bulk of the cooking in the kitchen. I started cooking high-calorie meals, and she ate whatever I gave to her. Whereas we both ate around 2,000 calories a day before, now we ate 3,500 calories per day. I gained a lot of muscle, where she just gained a lot of fat.
After 9 months, I was in better shape than I’d ever been, and she was in the worst shape of her life.
I reassured her that I still loved her for who she was, though, and she seemed content with it. After she had gained around 40 pounds, I bought anti-smoking patches, and I applied them to her in her sleep and took them off before she woke up. This literally got her addicted to me, as whenever I was away for a few days, I would get texts and calls where she seemed like she was on the verge of breaking down.
Because of her weight gain, she found it difficult to do her job. She would always come home dead tired and in pain. I helpfully suggested to her that she quit her job; after all, I could easily support the both of us on my residency salary. She took that suggestion, and took it fast; she walked out of her job the very next day.
I was actually surprised to hear that she quit, but apparently, she had been wanting to for a while, and she knew that my future doctor salary would be more than enough to live on.
Now over a year had passed since I learned she was unfaithful. At this point, she was out of a job, very overweight, and still friendless. I, although also friendless, was in great shape and was building good relationships at my residency.
We had also grown closer than ever before. She was dropping hints about a ring, and I thought it was the perfect way to finalize my revenge. We went shopping for a wedding ring, and I made sure to get the ring with the 60-day return policy. I proposed to her later that week. I was able to convince her to sign a prenuptial, making sure that we all got our own stuff, and the ring would get returned, by withholding the smoking patches and putting her through withdrawal, thus weakening her resolve.
Her parents were overjoyed, as they loved me like a son at this point. My own parents were quite happy as well, although I got the sense my dad knew something was going on. Other than that, nobody suspected a thing.
After a month of being engaged, I “just so happened to come across her old Skype logs.” I confronted her about it, and she started breaking down.
I instantly broke off the engagement. I “regretfully” told her parents about what she had done. At first, they didn’t believe me, until I showed them the logs, and they were horrified. They apologized for their daughter’s actions, saying she wasn’t brought up this way and that she would no longer be welcome in their house. Our friends quickly learned on social media and they universally rejected her.
It helped that I acted heartbroken and depressed; although, I suppose it wasn’t really acting, just a delayed response.
At this point, she was now homeless, friendless, jobless, without family, in poor physical shape, and addicted. I stopped talking to her, but from what I can tell, she got on Social Security to make ends meet. This all happened about 2 years ago. Last I heard, she got arrested for illegal substances charges.
I am a practicing physician and have plenty of close friends, although nobody intimate. I don’t think I ever will again; the blow was just too hard on me.
I don’t regret a single thing I did.”
Another User Comments:
“I hope you bought a white cat and a swivel chair because this is about as textbook villain-y as you can get.” Shinjura
1. Start Seeing My Ex? I'll Get You Sent To Jail
“In high school, Dina and I broke up, and she started seeing this dude (let’s call him Gido).
I was livid, but I kept it lowkey, so I could gather information about him. Eventually, she told me that his parents were SUPER religious and wouldn’t allow him to go to parties, and he could only leave the house after 11 pm if it was for work (night shift at a Tim Hortons). They were pretty much going to disown him if they caught him again.
So I went to about 15 Tim Hortons during the time when she told me he was working and finally found which one he works at. I found out everything: his manager’s name, the store’s number, everything. I came back later on and also found out by being friendly to the manager (this is important) that they were hiring for an overnight position, and currently, they were having a hard time getting employees to fill those spots, so they were on a skeleton crew.
So then I waited for a night where I knew they were going to go and stay over at a friend’s house (I was invited to that party). A few days before, I called from a blocked number and pretended to be Gido and said that I was available to work the night of the party. The manager was happy and said that he would see me there starting at 12 am.
So I went to the party and saw both of them, I called his cellphone from a blocked number and saw him pick it up and saw which pocket he put it in. Then later around 12 when he was pretty wasted, I “bumped” into him and managed to get his phone. I had the same blackberry as him, so I swapped my dead battery with his.
I left the phone on the floor knowing that someone would bring it to the host.
Fast forward a day later, everything went perfectly. The manager called his phone, found out it was dead, then called his house and woke up his parents whom he had told that he was working till 5, and the parents lost their crap and called the cops and the manager was worried too.
He comes back home to the police, and his worried family and had to explain where he ACTUALLY was. The guy lost his job, was kicked out of his house, his parents took away all his savings. He slept on some friends’ couches for two weeks.
This is when it gets REALLY twisted. I knew the mutual friend whom he was staying with, and I got invited over quite often.
He told me about how the guy was getting him “smoking stuff.” I asked if he had any at that moment, and my friend said no but to check the guy’s backpack. I did and found a dime bag of stuff that he had just bought. I told my friend that I would get it another time as I had to go to work (not a lie).
I came back a couple of hours later having hatched a plan, I had bought a fresh empty dime bag from the local store, handling it by its edges the entire time. When my friend had gone to the washroom (the dude wasn’t back yet), I put the contents of HIS dime bag into my new one (they looked identical) and carefully handled his.
That night, I went home and called up a guy I knew and asked for a gram, he obliged and I once again carefully took the substance and put it into my ex’s new man’s bag, and cleansed myself the best I could.
I was meeting my friends and Gido and Dina again two days later where we would all be going to a nearby park. The next day, I called Crimestoppers (think anonymous tips for cops service number) and told them that there was an illegal substance dealer with Gido’s description that was going to be at the park at a certain time. When I got to my friend’s house that day, his backpack was still there and ready for our excursion, while my friend was preoccupied I put the guy’s dime bag full of my stuff into his backpack.
An hour later, we left for the park. We got to the park and about a minute later a cop comes and questions us whether we have any illegal substances. We act dumb and say of course not officer, and he says to stay put and he calls for his partner or whatever, and a little while later, a K-9 unit comes and checks everyone.
At this point, I am freaking out too because I had handled the stuff. But the dog seemed only slightly curious about me but didn’t respond. Then it got to ex-man’s backpack, it was sniffing like mad and just stopped and sat right in front of him. The officer asked what was inside, and the dude said chips and sandwiches (unconvincingly, I might add). The officer rummaged inside and retrieved both chips and sandwiches and then went for the first pocket.
First, he retrieved the stuff, looked at the guy and said, “Is this yours?” Dude: “No, sir.” Officer: looks inside again. “And is this yours?” pulls out the stuff. Dude: “Please, sir, That’s not mine.” Officer: (starts reading him his rights.)
At this point, the Gido and my Dina are both crying, and me and my friend are just exchanging looks like what the heck just happened. Me, my friend, and Dina were questioned whether we knew about the illegal substances, and we denied everything and were let go after being searched ourselves.
I heard Dina defending Gido profusely saying that it wasn’t like him and to let him go.
Last I heard Gido was fighting court battles, but after finding his fingerprints on the bag, the case was closed. I think he got away with just the possession charge because it was such a small amount of “stuff” to begin with. I think he got 6 months in juvie and was let out early.
Needless to say, Dina broke up with him because she was a pretty straight shooter and very ambitious, and they had only been seeing each other for a few months. My friend asked me if I knew anything about this, and I swore that I did not. He believed me because, believe it or not, I was an extremely calm and generally nice person before that incident.
To this day my woman doesn’t know how desperate she made me. As for Gido, he got out and is doing well for himself, and me, my friend, and my woman haven’t spoken to him since.”
