People Share Their Tiny But Mighty Petty Revenge Stories

I don’t think I know a single person who doesn’t hate it when other people get petty. It may be one letter off, but being petty isn’t a pretty trait to have. Pettiness typically involves someone getting angry or upset over the slightest, most trivial of things such as a random person accidentally stepping on their foot, their friend not answering their phone call, or a cashier who mistakenly ringing them up for a small soda instead of a medium. As a result, a petty person may strike back with something petty in return: an eye roll, sending off a mean text, or saying something snide to someone’s face. Basically, petty people tend to get vicious over little mistakes or things that don’t really matter, you know, like things most people would just shrug off and forget about in the next 30 seconds.

But I won’t deny the fact that pettiness can come in handy sometimes. Some things are, after all, worth getting upset over, especially if the person you’re wanting to get back at is a complete jerk in general. Hiding the iPod dock when your selfish coworker won’t stop changing your music to theirs, refusing to wake up your cruel sunbathing husband to get him sunburnt, or even shooting constant glares at the girl who shattered your friend’s heart: these are the great, petty, revenge-style stories I’m talking about.

20. I Let My Ex-Husband Keep The Mattress He Cheated On… With A Little Twist

This is pretty creative!

“Let’s start with the basics:

This happened almost 5 years ago, so he was my THEN soon to be ex-husband. As of today, I am in a very happy, healthy, new relationship with framed divorce papers showing that he is my NOW ex-husband.

Story:

I found out my husband of 21 years was cheating on me with not 1… not 2….but 3 other women. So I moved him to the status of soon to be ex-husband by taking the kids, moving out, and filing for divorce.

We stayed civil for about 2 weeks while we decided how to divide up property and visitations.

I took almost everything in the divorce: both kids, his truck, the pets, the house… everything down to the rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom.

The few things I let him keep were things that were given as gifts by his parents, clothes, and a few pieces of furniture.

Here is where the revenge part comes in:

When I learned some details about his cheating, I found out he had some of his women over at the house. While they were there, they were “active” in MY bed. So, the furniture I let him have was at one time our bedroom set, including the king size bed with mattress.

My reason behind this was that I didn’t want the bed he had had other women on/in, and I was going to make it known that it was at one time OUR bed.

So, the day he came with a moving truck, I had the bed all made up with clean sheets, etc.

But, under the fitted sheets and memory foam topper, I had taken an extra-wide, red sharpie and wrote:

“This bed purchased at (insert name of the furniture store).

In the year 19** (I made sure to get the exact date.)

And was slept on, made love on, changed diapers on, etc., etc. (it was very long and descriptive) by: (insert my full name)

Who was married to (insert his name) on (insert date of marriage).”

I wrote this all very large and bold on both sides of the mattress.

He had paid movers loading all his stuff, so he did not see the mattress until it was delivered to his new place. And, of course, he was livid. As he cussed me over the phone, I just told him that I did not know what he was referring to and brushed it off.

The reason I am writing this now is he had to claim bankruptcy (because of one of the girlfriends) and move in with his parents this past week. My son went to help him move out of his apartment and reported back to me that he still has the same mattress with the red sharpie still on both sides.

I hope the girlfriend he was living with enjoyed sleeping on my old bed.” flamingomobile

19. Keep Changing The Radio Station? I’ll Stop You

“Ashley has always been petty and passive-aggressive. The day she was hired, she straight up refused to do anything even remotely challenging, and if anyone questioned her, she would give them the silent treatment. The girl could hold a grudge like no one else and never forgot any time she’s ever been wronged.

I played nice with her for several months, trying to make her feel welcome and feel comfortable with her tasks at work, but the more I gave, the more she took. The more she settled in, she became bolder with passing off her work to others and would straight up ignore anyone who even politely questioned her.

Office management knew Ashley personally and refused to address any problems, advising staff to talk to her on their own. Of course, with Ashley giving almost EVERYONE the silent treatment, talking to her was ineffective. The girl would literally roll her eyes, get up, and walk away from you mid-sentence.

Ashley and I shared a workspace on most days. There was a small radio/iPod dock in-between our desks, and the general office rule has always been, whoever gets there first gets to pick the radio station for the day.

It always worked well because the opening staff was scheduled on a rotating basis, so we all got a fair shot.

So, the tension in the office is at an all-time high. It’s almost impossible to get anything done effectively because this girl will not speak to anyone, even when it is a legitimate question about our work. She’s taken to changing the radio station to country music, knowing I hate it, every day when I take a lunch break. Whatever, I let that **** go.

But she can see it’s not affecting me, so she starts to ramp it up. She starts changing the station every time I walked away from my desk briefly, waiting until I use the restroom or walk to the water cooler.

I tried to be the bigger person, but after weeks of her passive-aggressive b****h** and STILL refusing to speak (or even work). I’ve had enough and drop to her level.

I started changing the radio station back when she walked away from her desk. It became this whole back and forth petty thing, constantly waiting for the other to walk away briefly. After a week, I knew it was time to step it up and put her in her place. The iPod dock was mine personally, so I took it home for the night. I opened it up carefully and disconnected the electronics under the station change buttons. I kept the remote for the dock in my desk drawer and discreetly returned it to the office.

When I stepped away from my desk, she was now turning the volume all the way down. So, the dock came back home with me where I disconnected ALL of the buttons, and it will only operate with the remote that Ashley doesn’t know about.

I can see Ashley absolutely stewing in her rage over this. After a few days, she starts unplugging the radio from the power when I step away. This is where I play dumb with, “Oh, it looks like the plug fell out! It keeps happening. I wonder if we need to call an electrician?” After a few days of this, she has taken the radio and put it in our manager’s office with a sticky note about how the office has voted, and we no longer want a radio at work.

Now I play Spotify on my desktop. And until Ashley got fired, I would be sure to play country music a few days a week just to rub it in a little. I wouldn’t say I’m proud of my actions, but d*mn, did it feel good to watch her squirm.” Augusta13

Another User Comments:

“Remember folks, these are adults.” kimbalinapea

18. Keep Writing On My Car? I’ll Keep Calling You To Make You Lose Sleep

“BACKGROUND:

So, years back, my girlfriend moved to a new house in a cute, little suburb.

Most of the neighbors are nice, quiet, and respectful. (As far as we know, honestly, pretty much everyone on the block keeps to themselves.)

One of them, however, is not. We’ll call him Mike.

Mike is the textbook definition of a meathead.

The man is 6’5″ built like a gorilla with a brow to match. He’s out washing at least one of his four vehicles at any given time. If he’s outside, he’s washing a vehicle.

Well, as I mentioned, he has four vehicles. So, parking on a street with already mediocre street parking is a challenge.

One Thanksgiving, every spot on the street was taken up except for one open spot in front of his house. At this point, all I knew was that I had general misgivings about the man, but nothing had happened.

Well, I come back outside a couple of hours later to find DON’T PARK HERE written on my window in window marker. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out who wrote it.

So, the next day while I was sweeping up my girlfriend’s driveway, I see him washing his cars for the 13th time this week, and I confront him about it.

“HEY MAN, did you write on my car?”

“So what if I did?”

Anyways, it culminated in him threatening me with the broom I was holding, and I welcomed him to try. (Thankfully he didn’t because I definitely would’ve gotten crushed.)

But from that point on, I had a chip on my shoulder.

THE REVENGE:

I was mad, so I decided to find out more about this guy. I looked up his address and found out what his name was and when he bought his home. I did some more digging, and I eventually found his phone number.

Bingo.

My girlfriend and I are generally night owls, staying up till 2 to 3 a.m. regularly. So, every night when we were up doing our own thing, I’d give his phone a call.

I’d let it get as far as him angrily picking up the phone to yell at whoever’s calling him at 2 a.m. and then I’d hang up.

I was calling from a private number, so he could never block mine.

Any time I got bored- RING RING RING RING.

This went on for weeks.

Eventually, I stopped getting answers or angry hangups in the middle of the night; he was turning off his phone.

I was sad at the time that I couldn’t mess with him more… until a couple of mornings, I’d wake up to angry shouting.

Turns out that Mike’s phone was his alarm to go to work, and he worked E A R L Y.

He got in to work SUPER late a couple of times, so I was satisfied with my revenge.” Baileythenerd

Reply:

“Yeah, I’m pretty embarrassed now how I acted. I was very young and wasn’t yet comfortable with direct confrontation, especially in the workplace. Happy to say I am very outspoken and professional now.” Augusta13

17. Won’t Let Me Watch My Movie In Peace? No More Watching TV For You

“My dad and I have our ups and downs mostly.

My dad has this AWFUL habit of talking during a film. This is especially irritating because I AM in film school, and watching movies carefully without distraction is an important part of my curriculum.

I always tell him to not talk during a movie, but he will repeatedly grab the remote, pause the movie, and just start talking about random **** that doesn’t matter. I told him repeatedly that it breaks my concentration and just ruins the overall experience.

This habit has only gotten worse over the years. After making me pause a rare copy of a regional film in order to chat about something ridiculous, I decided to plan my petty revenge.

So, the TV in my house is a fancy TV. It was gifted to us by my grandparents. It has this option where you can cast your mobile device on your TV (whether it be YouTube or Netflix or whatever).

My dad loves to unwind with Netflix.

He and my mom have a ritual to just binge-series after 7 pm till around midnight. They usually take a week to finish any series.

So, a week after the aforementioned incident, my dad and mom settle down to watch Ozark. And I get my opportunity. After careful consideration, I decide to ruin this very special tradition by… You guess it, casting a REALLY OBNOXIOUS compilation of James Charles saying, “Hi sisters” on repeat right in the middle of a really huge plot reveal.

Both my parents thought the TV was possessed. I came down, pretended to check the TV, and told them to go right back to it. Again, they settle down to watch the show, and James Charles pops up. Again and again, I do this.

I do this for a WHOLE WEEK.

We are in lockdown and can’t get anyone to come to check the TV out. My dad was losing his mind, going on YouTube, and calling customer care to try and figure this out. My brother, who is in on the prank, stepped up the game by pretending the TV was ruined, and we couldn’t watch shows on it anymore.

Finally, my dad figured out it was us with the help of some wonderful customer care employees. Needless to say, he was p*ssed but had a healthy fear of his children.

Yesterday, I was watching a movie. My dad walks in trying to ask me something and says, “Oh. Are you watching something? It’s cool. I’ll come back later”.

Oh, the vindication…” reflorated

16. Park Your Car, Blocking My Exit? I’ll Get You Towed

“This happened about 5 years ago when I moved into a wheelchair friendly unit. (I’m a 29-year-old, disabled female in a wheelchair.) The unit complex I live in has 20 units upstairs and down, but only half of the tenants have assigned parking. (I have a car space but this neighbor didn’t.)

It took a while for tenants to get used to this. It was a brand new complex, and the tenants all moved in at the same time, but one of them, let’s call him Richard, either didn’t get it or didn’t care. He would constantly park in my car space, and every time I confronted him about it, he claimed not to know, but he’d park there anyway.

I informed the landlords about this, and they sent out constant letters until he finally got the message. But did he park on the street? Nope. He started to park his car along the driveway, sometimes blocking my exit. To get out of my door, I go down a ramp and then turn onto the driveway, but he would park his car and block my exit. There was no back exit, so this was my only way to exit my place.

I told the landlords about this and the council parking officer in hopes they could make him stop doing this. I confronted Richard a few times and told him not to do this and warned him that his car might get damaged if I try to get my wheelchair around it.

But did he listen? Nope.

One glorious day when I needed to leave, I saw his car parked halfway across my exit. There was JUST enough room for me to get around, but I knew I would scrape the side of his car with the side of my power wheelchair if I tried to get around it. I had 2 options: stay home and miss my appointments or try and get around his car.

I went with option B.

Before you have a go at me for damaging his car, it was an old, beat-up tin can that already had some scratches on it. What’s one more?

When I got home, his car was still parked there! So, I called a tow truck company and told them there was a car parked illegally, blocking access to my home.

I don’t like using my disability to my advantage, but I’d had enough! The call went something like this:

ME: “Ah, hello? Um, yes. I’m so sorry to b-b-bother you, but I’m in a w-w-wheelchair and I c-c-can’t get into my house because there’s a c-c-car parked there. It’s my n-n-neighbor and he won’t stop p-p-parking there. I n-n-need to get inside.”

“OMG, what?? What’s the address? We’ll be right there!”

10 minutes later, the tow truck arrived. He saw the car and me, stuck out in the driveway with tears (dramatized for effect) in my eyes.

Not long before the driver was about to tow the car away, Richard came out screaming “WAIT!! WHAT AH YA DOIN??? THAT’S MY CARRR!!”

The rest was Richard yelling inaudible sentences asking why his car was being towed and threatening to sue the tow truck company.

Based on the crapfest of a tin can he calls a car, he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

He moved away about 2 years ago, but in the remaining time he lived there, he parked his car on the street.” fredzred

15. Treat Our Employee Like Garbage? No Free Cookie For You

“This story happened about a year ago when I was working at an unnamed sandwich chain restaurant that was located in a very small tourist town, and the petty revenge was done by my coworker on my behalf.

The majority of the customers were regulars that worked nearby, and it was really slow when there wasn’t a high school sporting event or people going to the lake for summer. Because it was usually slow, we were told to only prep limited ingredients, which were usually gone or very low by the end of the night.

Limited ingredients weren’t much of a problem since people were usually okay with waiting until we prepped more.. until now. It was about 9:45 pm, and we close at 10 pm. I was manning the store while my coworker was on his lunch in the back of the restaurant. Suddenly, a rather old man (EM) walks in and by judging his demeanor, I can tell I’m in for a treat. I wash my hands and put on a pair of gloves before walking over to help him.

Our exchange went as follows:

Me: Hello sir, welcome to (restaurant). How can I help you?

EM: Yes, I would like one of your rotisserie chicken sandwiches.

Me: I apologize, sir, we ran out of rotisserie chicken earlier.

I can go check if we have some more thawed in the back, and it will only take a moment to prep.

EM: -sighs and crosses his arms- Seriously? No, I don’t have time for that. I guess I will have a steak sandwich.

Me: … I apologize, sir, we are also out of steak. Again, I can go check if we have more-

EM: -scoffs and rolls his eyes- Are you SERIOUS? You have one job, and you can’t even do that. I GUESS I will go for my last resort… Do you have any meatballs?

(I check, and thank god we have meatballs, but only for a 6 inch.)

Me: Yes, but we only have enough for a 6-inch sub. If you would like a footlong, I could quickly heat some up-

EM: -somehow sighs even harder than before- You ONLY have enough for a 6 inch?! What kind of establishment is CONSTANTLY out of ingredients? Give me the 6 inch, I GUESS.

I do my absolute best to keep my customer service smile and cheery voice, but I was absolutely dying inside, and my coworker (who is VISIBLY p*ssed off) has now come to listen in on what’s happening. I got the guy his bread, scooped the meatballs on with as much sauce that would fit, topped it with cheese, and toasted it. He made sure to sigh and roll his eyes at every opportunity as I was finishing up his food.

He says he wants it to go, so I wrap up the incredible sauce sandwich and ring him up. Then another conversation ensues after he sees the total:

EM: Aren’t you going to give me my food for free?

Me: … I’m sorry?

EM: Well, I didn’t get the sandwich I wanted, and you took FOREVER (maybe 5 minutes tops) to make it! I should get my food for free!

Me: I’m sorry, I am not authorized to give away food for free.

EM: -looks at the cookie cabinet that has one single double chocolate cookie- Well, you could have at LEAST offered me a free cookie for all the trouble you’ve caused me! It’s just good business practice!

Me: … I apologize, sir, but I can not give away free cookies unless they are from yesterday’s batch. (The cookies from the previous batch were not considered “fresh” and were usually written off anyway.)

EM: Well then, I will be speaking to the owner of the store since I know him personally! -he pays and goes to SIT IN THE LOBBY with his food to eat-

Now for the petty revenge…

After I finish the transaction, a young construction worker (C) who occasionally stops by after a job walks in and waits patiently while I wash and glove up again.

At this point, it’s about 9:55 pm, and I had shooed my coworker off to go finish his lunch since he only has 5 minutes left.

Me: Hello, what can I get for you today?

C: Yeah, can I get a footlong steak sandwich?

Me: Sure thing, but I will have to go see if we have any thawed in the back. Give me just one moment!

C waits patiently while I prep a new container of steak, and it only takes about 30-45 seconds. (My coworker and I are in the back room sh*t-talking EM because he was still incredibly heated about me being degraded like that) before I’m back on the line. I finish up his sandwich as fast as I can, and just as I start wrapping it up, my coworker clocks back on and says he can ring him up.

I saw the mischief on his face and knew exactly what was going to happen.

Coworker: Sir, would you like one free cookie with your meal since there was a delay in making your sandwich? We only have one left, but it’s the least I could do to thank you for your patience.

C: Oh, sure, thank you!

I smile brightly, pack up the cookie, and place it in the bag with his sandwich.

After C leaves, EM comes up to the counter looking FURIOUS and demands an explanation all the while I opt to start cleaning up the line, so I could watch this glorious moment unfold. My coworker cheerily informs EM that since the store was closing in less than one minute, the cookie was going to be thrown out anyway and asked that EM leave the store, so we could close the lobby.

EM storms out of the store going off about bad business practice, never to be seen again. Neither of us got in trouble.

I truly miss that coworker.” littlekigu

14. Here’s Your Strong, Burnt Coffee

“Now my story happened 11 years ago. This was back in the days when I was not a coffee drinker; I would only make it for my wife in the mornings.

At the time of the story, I was working MID shift (11:00 pm to 7:00 am) as a maintenance crew lead. Mainly this consists of long, boring hours of making sure everything that the other shift did not finish got done before the DAY shift showed up. Now my crew was 4 people deep covering three DAY teams. So, when the DAY shift came in, I would have to give turnover to three different teams.

It is noteworthy here to say I do not work for any of those three teams. My crew and I worked for the shop as a whole, so my boss was the same as each team lead. 99% of the time, we had no issues. I would tell each team in the morning what we did with what they left us then head home and sleep till 3 pm.

Onto the story.

So, as I told you, in the mornings, I would give turnover to each team. Well, team 3 lead was a jerk. He would always moan about the work my team did. Side note: my team of 4 always made his team of 20 looks incompetent. For example, they would leave us a unit that would not start that they would have worked on for hours, and it would be dead batteries and took us ten minutes to fix.

Now the morning of this story jerk was mad because I didn’t make him coffee and that my predecessor would always make a fresh pot of coffee for the DAY shift people coming in.

I laughed at him and told him that I would not make him coffee. He did not like that I laughed at him and said that I was required to, and if I did not make him coffee, he would make me regret it. I just smiled and said I make bad coffee, and you would not like it and left.

The next day, I did not make coffee, and true to his word, jerk made me regret it. He kept me late for about 2 hours asking about everything I had done that night.

Note: I work salary so no extra money on this time wasted. So, once jerk was done asking stupid questions, he said maybe I would have a better time at turnover if he had fresh coffee. I am annoyed, to say the least. For one, I was not able to make it home to see my kids off to school or my wife before she went to work.

So, then I hatched my plan: he wanted coffee; I would make him coffee. Yes, I will say that I had the typical ideas such as eye drops in the pot or make it with toilet water, but then it hit me: I know how to make sure he never wants my coffee again.

I set up my plan the next night two hours before the DAY shift would show up. I found the cheap coffee the shop uses, and I filled the reservoir with water. The pot normally makes 12 cups, so I put in the 6 scoops needed of grounds before I hit start. It takes about 20 minutes to finish. I pour the fresh coffee back into the reservoir and add fresh grounds and hit start again.

Now my crew is starting to wonder what I am doing because I do not drink coffee, and they would not drink any at this time of day. Then they saw me pour the fresh coffee into the reservoir for the third time and add new grounds.

It all came into focus for them, and as DAYS started to show up, my crew told them not to drink the coffee. The pot was at about 6 cups, and no one had drunk any of it. I am sure I broke that coffee maker.

Finally, the jerk showed up, and I told him that there is coffee, and I hoped the others left him some. I walked with him and watched as he poured himself a cup. I noticed that someone other than me had hidden all the creamer and sugar. For those who do not know what I did, I wasted a lot of coffee grounds to make it really strong and burnt tasting. So, hiding the sugar was making sure that the jerk would have to drink it like that.

The jerk did not notice anything at all. He took that first sip and I saw the look. I asked if anything was wrong. I asked if it was too strong for him and if I should see if there was any milk around. I then informed him if he ever screws with me or my crew again, he would regret it.

I never made him coffee again, and he never kept me or my crew late again.” pondering_wolf

13. Won’t Do Anything About Bullying? Hm, What About Threats?

Funny how they listen then…

“A little backstory:

From 2nd/3rd up to 6th grade, I had been in the same class with this kid. (Let’s call him J.) J was popular and a bully to those he didn’t like.

I was also friends with friends of his, so we always ended up by each other. Any attempts from me to be nice/civil were met with insensitive jokes; yet, for some reason, I still tried to be friendly.

Main story:

Then came 7th grade. Up until this point, all of my friends had kind of been “fake.” (Most trying to be my friend because I was smart, popular, and played football.) But in 7th grade, I pretty much stopped caring about the “popular people.” I left the popular table (by choice) and only invited those who I liked to go with me. Pretty quickly, I had a table full of fun people who I actually enjoyed. J was not invited for obvious reasons.

I actually went most of the school year without seeing J due to that division I made. Then, we started having a “recess.” (They would send us outside for 10 minutes after lunch. One day, boys would go outside. The next day, girls would. It was actually very annoying. Plus, we were all mad about the separation.)

Due to “recess,” I started seeing J on a regular basis, almost unavoidably. He was always a jerk to me, making jokes, etc. One day, I was talking with my friend, and he jokingly said he could easily beat me up. That’s when I walked up and said, “Yeah, I could too,” then he chuckled a bit before saying, “I think I’ll beat you up after school to prove it” before talking about how all it would take is a knee to the stomach and a couple of punches to the face to do the trick.

Maybe he was joking, maybe he wasn’t. I personally think it was a joke he wishes was true, but either way, it was the last straw. I had had enough of him, so I decided on a plan and ran with it.

Revenge:

I had witnesses. About 3-5 other people heard him say it. I told my friends, hoping it would spread quietly a little bit, then let it sit for about one class (50 minutes).

In the next class, I started phase 2. I talked to someone in the next class about what had happened but loud enough where anyone could overhear including the teacher. When the class ended, I went up to the teacher and asked to speak privately. I asked what happens if someone gets a threat.

I started walking away after she told me, but she stopped me before the door and asked if someone had threatened me.

I told her what J said, and she immediately took me to the principal to explain what happened. I told him that my friend and I had been joking, but J sounded serious. I told him who the witnesses were, and they were called in as I left. By the end of the day, it had spread around the school, parents had been called, the whole shebang.

The next day, and for the following two days, he was in in-school suspension, and I am pretty sure the school told him to stay away from me because I saw him one other time, he told me, sorry, and that was it.

We didn’t speak, he was never around me, and I went through the rest of the school year without having to bother with him.” _Gronky_

 

12. Cheating On Me? I’ll Give You A Hickey To Give Your Other Girl A Hint

If you’re getting cheated on, or think you are, this is something you could try.

“This happened years ago as a high school freshman, but I’ve always been kind of proud of how I handled this situation.

Background:

I was friends with a guy in a large middle school friend group of neighborhood kids that would play manhunt and hang out often. This disbanded as everyone got older and moved, could drive, etc. I always had a crush on him, but he was a bit older and never seemed to see me that way, but we were good friends.

Fast forward to high school, and I hadn’t seen the guy in a year or 2 and was surprised he was in one of my classes as a freshman (he had failed that class twice) and was having a tough time. We sat together and talked and ended up hanging out outside of school. I still liked him, but he had a girlfriend, so I kept my feelings in.

He confessed to me that they were having issues, and he needed to break up with her, but it’d be super hard on both of them. I was surprised because I thought they were really solid; he always wore a bracelet with her name on it.

We continued to hang out often, and he kissed me, all while reassuring me he was going to leave her, but it was just complicated, which lead to making out hangouts.

This happened 2-3 times before I noticed he was still wearing the bracelet with her name on it. I stopped mid- makeout and asked if they were on such bad terms, then why he was still wearing that bracelet? He got annoyed and gave me a short and not-convincing answer.

It all hit me in the 16-year-old brain at once: this guy was using me to cheat and had no intention of breaking up with this girl.

He tried to go back to kissing, but I moved to his neck and just suctioned right to it. He pushed me away and exclaimed about hickeys. He immediately left muttering about covering it with makeup.

They broke up shortly thereafter. I know his girlfriend thought I was a terrible person for cheating with this guy, but he honestly had me convinced.

I honestly feel like I did her a favor: physical evidence of cheating right before her eyes.” yamslammin

11. Screw The Company Into Getting You A Brand-New Computer Each Year? Keep The Same One For Four Years

“I work in IT, and when I was still in desktop support, I had one of our staff I’ll call Mr. Cunning – or Mr. C – pull some **** to get a new PC.

It was my first year in the role, and when we came through Mr. C’s area doing our annual replacement of our oldest gear (3-year replacement cycle), the next day, his PC failed spectacularly – Windows wouldn’t boot with some weird error. It was only a year old, but in such a situation, it’s easier and faster to simply replace it with something we had ready to go – and being refresh time, new PCs are about all we have in stock.

I later test/reinstall the perfectly fine PC and redeploy it elsewhere where it ran out the rest of its life just fine. This failure stuck in my mind because the error was so unusual.

Jump forward a year to the next renewal. The exact same thing happened a day or two after we were on his floor, and his PC goes belly-up again. Alarm bells start going off in my head as his PC had been faultless all year long. Still, it’s difficult to prove anything and not a good look to accuse end-users of sabotage, so I swap it out with a new box again.

Two days later, I’m under a desk cabling for a different PC swap, different team, only a few desks away.

I hear Mr. C bragging to a workmate about how he’s wrangled a new PC for the past two years – suspicions confirmed. I slip away without being noticed.

Now comes the build-up for revenge, not so much planned at this stage, but it developed naturally – pro comes later.

At the end of the refresh program, I’ve impressed enough that I’m asked to take over the project the next year. I gladly take it on, and then in the planning phase, I start pushing for changes I’d been wanting to make: convince the bosses for some extra budget, so we can double the RAM (4GB to 8GB), and more importantly, move to Solid State Drives for improved speed and reliability. (95% of our hardware failures are hard drives.) Finally, and the most difficult, was to convince the boss we should move to a four-year replacement cycle, but since we’re moving to Solid State Drives, I got my way.

Roll on the next year’s renewal. All the shiny new gear arrives, and during the setup, we find out just how much faster they are over the older gear – even the one-year-old PC that Mr. C is now running. Collating the list of users due for replacement, and Mr. Cunning pops into my mind. I determine a plan in case he tries his little trick again.

New PCs start rolling out in Mr. C’s area, and because his PC is only a year old again, he’s not on my list. A lot of ohh’ing and ahh’ing as we move from standard business desktops to sick, new, mini PCs. Tiny footprint and some worried faces when a few of the older guys think they’re getting thin clients.

A quick demo that it is in fact a full-fat PC and lightning-quick too sells everyone, including Mr. C who has joined the small group of curious cats. Seeing Mr. C arrive, I talk up the speed increase, even more, to really drive home how desirable these are… “It’s just a shame we can’t afford to replace all our existing PCs with these in one go. They’re that good!” The hook is baited, and I see him having a go as I pack up and leave.

The next morning, I open my helpdesk queue to find a new ticket – Mr. C had taken the bait. His PC has mysteriously exploded yet again and won’t boot Windows. Color me shocked.

I swing a freshly installed PC under my arm and skip off out the door.

Imagine Mr. C’s face when I arrive at his desk with a standard size clunker of identical vintage as his current PC. I perform a quick investigation on his dead PC to confirm Windows is, in fact, dead then start swapping in the “new” PC. He starts stammering and questioning why he’s not getting a fast, new mini.

Trying to stop the giant sh*t-eating grin from spreading across my face, I state, “Sorry mate, due to the increase in costs of the new units, we don’t have any spare and only have enough for the actual replacement list.” This was a lie. I continued: “… In fact, we’re a bit short on spares at the moment due to a flurry of recent hires.

This is the fastest PC I have on hand, but it’s the exact same spec as your current PC, so you’re not going backward.” We had, in fact, hired several new staff on his floor and others in the past few weeks which helped my story.

I walked away, and two wonderful things happened in the aftermath that cements the pro into the revenge:

Instead of simply reinstalling the old PC, I was determined to discover how he destroyed his Windows, which shouldn’t really be possible. It turns out, he had a piece ‘o **** legacy application that needed admin permissions just to run. He would call up one of the older guys in the IT team that he’s known for years a day or two later who would give him admin permissions to run that application rather than trying to fix it properly.

With it, he could change or damage parts of Windows a normal user couldn’t. I found a way to fix the application, so it no longer needed admin rights and advised the entire team, so they wouldn’t give him admin permissions again. (He tried.)

The second thing is one you may remember from earlier. I had convinced the boss to move to a four-year replacement cycle. What I didn’t mention was that it would take effect immediately to all our existing units too, to help offset the extra costs of the go-fast components in the new PCs. This meant that Mr. C was not only lumbered with the very last slow hard drive model we had purchased, but it was now a PC that he couldn’t sabotage and would be stuck with for another three years.

Fast-forward three years, his PC was finally due to be replaced after running perfectly the entire time, so as my last act (and just to add some pettiness), I leave his floor and his PC to the literal last PC in the replacement just to maximize the use he got from it.

I’m not completely heartless, though; I just don’t like people wasting my time and effort – we’re crazy-busy enough without dipsh*ts creating extra work. His replacement PC after four years was the first year we moved to 16GB RAM as we began the move to Windows 10. He was soo happy!

Fun fact: our failures for the old PCs running an extra year was surprisingly low and well worth the gamble.

We averaged only two hard drive failures per year for units outside the three year warranty period (approximately 150 PCs per year).” meathorsey

10. Mom Lets Husband Get Serious Sunburn After Screaming At Child For Reading

“When I was younger, around the age of 13 (I’m 20 now), my mom used to encourage my sister and me to read as much as we could. For this reason, I would love to take books with me everywhere.

One day, my family was taking a trip to Cartagena, Colombia to enjoy the beach for my sister’s birthday. (We were living in Colombia at the time.) Even back then, I wasn’t a big fan of the beach because I hated how the water was so cold and salty and the feeling of hot sand on my feet.

I just never liked it. So, I opted to just read my Chronicles of Narnia book on a beach towel under the umbrella.

It was at this point where my father started to scream at me to go into the water because we took such a long trip to get there. The trip was about 2 hours. I told him I’d get in when I finished the chapter I was on. I just said that to please him. It was at this point where my father took the book from my hands and told me he wouldn’t give it back to me for the rest of the trip. We were staying in Cartagena for 3 days, so I was kinda p*ssed.

Now, enter my mother! My mother is the kind of woman who gives people chances and is slow to anger unless they mess with her children.

My father was frustrated with the trip for a multitude of reasons, so he decided to take a nap on his towel. One thing to mention is that Colombia is a very hot country, especially in Cartagena, and we were in the middle of summer and were on the beach at the hottest time of the day.

So, normally, my mother would have woken up my father in a situation like this. But as she was fed up with the way he had treated me that day, a lightbulb went off in her head. She noticed he fell asleep about a foot away from the shade of the umbrella with no sunscreen on. She thought to herself for a sec and decided to go back sunbathing and acting like she hadn’t noticed anything.

He was asleep in the sun for 5 HOURS. It was safe to say he had a sunburn for the next week. He couldn’t even sleep properly for the rest of the trip because his body ached so much.

My mom didn’t tell me this story until after she divorced him because he was an emotionally abusive father to my sister and me and didn’t treat my mom right. I love this story because my mom never stood up to my father directly, but when she saw the chance, she would act all innocent and let him dig his own grave. It was a small victory for her, but a victory nonetheless. Plus, I thought my mom was a bada** after telling me this.

Also, this story is funny to me because I hate reading now! My sister is the fastest reader I know and can finish a 500-page book in one day, but reading has never been my forte.” dothemonsterbash

9. Delivery Driver Yelled At Me, So I Made Him Hold My Door For 10 Minutes

“I work as a receptionist at an apartment building. Honestly, the worst people when it comes to customer service aren’t the tenants or customers, but rather, the delivery guys. Most of them are nice, but some can be lazy or difficult. Often times, it’s because they view you as a kindred spirit when really, you’re just trying to do your job: I’ve had delivery guys yell at me because the building is huge, and the customer made them go upstairs like it’s my fault, or I tell them I’ll escort them upstairs.

I’ve had delivery guys who yell at me because I tell them it’s the wrong address, or I ask who the food is for when they just leave it on the counter and go away.

I think the worst delivery guy I’ve ever dealt with is the sushi delivery guy. He’s an old guy, so I’ll call him Rick.

Rick was probably the worst delivery guy I’ve known because he was cranky and lazy. Basically, he needed to deliver some sushi to a guy who wanted his food delivered upstairs. Most of the residents wanted their food delivered directly to their doors for one reason or another: some are busy, some are on conference calls, old, lazy, etc. Some will offer to go downstairs, but it’s rare.

But Rick didn’t want to go upstairs because his car was double-parked. Honestly, if you’re a delivery guy in the area by my job, unless you’re upstairs for hours, you won’t get a ticket because the cops know you’re just doing your job. In Rick’s defense, the dude didn’t put his apartment number, but it doesn’t mean he couldn’t have just called the dude.

Obviously, Rick didn’t want to go upstairs, and because he was yelling at me (and I had a ton more things to do and was still getting acclimated to my new job), I was having trouble. He had me try to find the guy, but I couldn’t because I was overwhelmed. So, I had him call the guy instead who he demanded come downstairs.

The guy comes downstairs, and his leg is broken. I felt so bad because he lived on the other side of the building. Rick apologizes and says he made the guy go downstairs because I was stupid and couldn’t find his room.

So, Rick goes to leave, but the door is closed. You see, very nice apartments mean there’s a very nice chance for robberies. Often times, the doors are locked from the outside and the inside. You can only unlock from the inside by hitting a button and pushing the door. Most people don’t realize it; they just pull, and it is a pet peeve of mine to have people constantly ask why the door won’t open.

Rick was having a hard time and struggling, and he did ask for help.

I said, “You’ll figure it out” and went right back to my work as if nothing happened. I don’t remember how long it took him to figure it out, but I guess ten minutes at most. It was a new record.

I’ve taken the example with Rick and applied it to other delivery guys who treat me badly. You’re smart; you’ll figure it out. Sorry, I can’t help you.

I didn’t see rick after that point, but I don’t think anybody at the building orders sushi from that one restaurant, likely because they don’t want to deal with him.” CapriciousSalmon

8. Keep Riding My Bumper? I’ll Get You A Speeding Ticket

Perfect timing!

“A little backstory, I’m from Canada. In Canada, we have the 400 series highways where the standard speed limit on them is 100 km/h (~60 MPH).

My boyfriend lives about 1 hour and 45 minutes from my place, so I like to drive down on the weekend to see him. I usually drive in the fast lane when on the 400 series, doing anywhere from 130-135 km/h (~80-83), and if anyone behind me wants to go faster than that, I simply move over and let them pass.

I’m about 45 minutes into my drive when I see the pickup truck behind me suddenly merge into the middle lane. This little white car speeds up to be right behind me. Now, it’s obvious this person is a speed demon, so I gladly move into the middle lane to let them pass. But they don’t. They stay the exact same speed in the fast lane, leaving me to eventually move back into the fast lane, or else I’ll hit traffic.

I’m doing about 130 km/h (~80 MPH). I speed up to 135 (~83 MPH) to see if I get any distance between me and this car. Nope! They stay on my a**, and again, I move over. But to no avail, they just stay the same speed. I move back into the left lane, realizing this person is just doing this to either get me to slow down and go behind them or just to annoy me.

So, I hatch a plan.

See, I have this app on my phone that lets me know where police have been spotted by other drivers. And I see that 3 separate people have spotted a cop 2 kilometers (~1.24 miles) ahead. So, I slow down, and down, and down, and down.

I’m eventually doing 118 km/h (73 MPH) in the fast lane. The person behind me is so far up my bumper that I can’t see their plate. Mind you, they could have gone around me at any time, but they refused to do so.

So, about 500 feet from the sightings, I finally move into the middle lane, and I have barely crossed the line when they FLY PAST ME, doing at LEAST 130 km/h (~80 MPH).

Not even 10 seconds pass before they get nailed by a cop for speeding. That gave me something to laugh about for the rest of my trip.” musicko1

Another User Comments:

“In the GTA (Greater Toronto area), you can go up to 10 kilometers (~6 miles) over the speed limit.

On 400-series highways, you can go 20 kilometers (~12 miles) over. Getting a ticket for going 125 km/h (~77 MPH) will bear a penalty for going 125 km/h (~77 MPH) in a 100 km/h (~62 MPH) zone, probably 3 demerit points.

So, those unwritten rules are for the GTA. I don’t know about other areas like Mississauga. Whenever I reach that area, I just try to drive either more uncontrollably or unnecessarily slow just to fit in.” WeepingAgnello

7. Hide My Cat From Me? I’ll Disconnect The Internet And Move Out Early

“After college, I accepted a job across the country and moved in with a vague acquaintance I had met a couple of times. It quickly became clear that we were not going to get along.

He was incredibly rude and condescending, routinely making snide remarks about my intelligence since I had been in a sorority in college. He would instruct me on how to re-do all of my chores in HIS way, always insinuating that I just wasn’t as smart as he was. This led to a few heated arguments, and we ended up basically avoiding each other. My room was in the basement, and he was on the second floor. Except for going in and out, I stayed in the basement to avoid him.

One night, I returned home and my cat was missing. He is a HUGE fatty and never misses a meal, so I was immediately worried. I texted the roommate to see if he had let him out by mistake.

He ignored me. I looked everywhere in my room and in the common areas–no cat. I could hear that he was home, so I texted again, asking if he could please check his room or just let me know if the cat got out by mistake. Again, no response.

I couldn’t search the neighborhood much after dark since we were in a pretty rough area, so I stayed up all night making fliers and online posts. I called animal control and my parents and broadly had a massive mental breakdown. I figured the most likely scenario was that he had escaped and wandered into the road.

Early the next morning (Saturday), I looked all over our neighborhood. Losing hope, I returned back home.

Right before I went back down to my half of the house, I heard a faint, distressed yowl. I followed the noise upstairs and realized…it was coming from Horrible Roommate’s locked bedroom.

I phoned him repeatedly and waited several hours for him to come home, unlock his door, and let my poor cat OUT OF HIS CLOSET. No explanation was given and, this cat being an OG fatty and also a jerk, there is no way he silently slept all night. Simply put, there was no way this could have been an accident.

At this point, we had one month left on the lease, and I was able to make arrangements to stay with family for that final month. Interestingly enough, our internet service was in my name.

I paid the final month in full and loaded my stuff into a U-Haul. I gleefully unplugged and returned our rented router, and OG Fatty Cat and I left town a month early.

Wouldn’t you know it, later that night my phone starts blowing up with texts and calls. This man is looking for his missing internet! Somehow, I couldn’t be bothered to respond…” small_potato_12

Another User Comments:

“We need pictures of OG fatty cat.” oooMagicFishooo

Reply:

“Should you feel so inclined, his Instagram handle is the.trash.gremlin !” small_potato_12

6. Want To Contribute Plagiarized Content To Our Project? Okay, I’ll Turn It In Just Like That

“So, this story took place about 10 years ago when I was at university studying forensic anthropology.

One of the courses we had to complete was one that was designed to teach us how to properly write up a report that could be used for medical records and in court.

For the final, we were put in groups and given pieces of real skeletons and had to do a full report on them, all measurements, photographs, etc. that would normally be involved, as well as a self-written paper on how we would go about cleaning the bones if we received cadavers in various states of decomp. (This was easy for me as I worked in the bone lab and had to do this very thing more often than I wanted to.)

I was in a group with three other people, and being the guy that was at the top of the class, this was a treat for my team because I could make their life a lot easier by helping them make sure all T’s were crossed and I’s dotted.

I also had hands-on experience, something most of my classmates did not since because, as I said before, I was an overachiever who worked in the bone lab. I was basically leading the group, setting up tasks for everyone to complete, trying to keep it balanced, and we worked together great. Well, 3 of us did. One of our team members thought she didn’t need to do anything.

The first weekend, we all wrote our papers on how to clean and prepare the bones, so we could get that out of the way, but what one of our teammates gave us was just a copy-paste from the text. I mentioned this before class the next day, telling her it needed to be in her own words, not taken directly from the text, and she immediately went into tears and “you’re so mean” mode, calling me all kinds of names, and saying that it wasn’t fair because she was spending time with her boyfriend, and they barely got to see each other, so we should just understand and cover for her.

Since one of the other team members was also a woman, I pulled her aside to talk privately with her just to be sure I wasn’t doing something unwittingly, and she confirmed that I was being professional and not at all condescending.

The tears and namecalling continued on everything I assigned her to do from taking measurements to writing conclusions, to the point where my teammates and I took it to our professor just to be sure nothing came back on us. He told us to be sure to clearly label everyone’s individual contributions when we turn in the final report, so that is exactly what we did. Everyone signed their work, writing separate sections of the reports and sending them to me to compile.

We also started comparing notes and talking with each other via email just to have records of what was being said…by everyone. And boy did she let me have it a few times for mentioning something was taken directly from the text or that her measurements and conclusions made no sense. She also reiterated the fact that she was spending time with her boyfriend, and they had been going of town on the weekends and so we would just have to fix it if we wanted our “precious A’s.”

I still met with the other 2 in person. We would go have coffee and work on our reports, and they even came to spend a shift with me in the lab a few times to get a more visual glimpse and have a better understanding of what they were writing about.

We got along excellently.

Here is our revenge.

We didn’t change a single word or number she gave us, and I submitted our full report as it was sent to me, and wouldn’t you know, everything she wrote and put her name on was immediately flagged for 100% plagiarism, and the bones she worked on did not match anything in the records for them.

Well, this, of course, was taken to the dept, and our group was called into a meeting with our professor and a few others from the dept and the university. The three of us told them exactly what had happened with our fourth. And boy did she put on a show, crying and wailing, accusing me of being cruel and threatening her, all of which was refuted by our other 2 team members.

Then she accused me of tampering with her work – wrong again; I had all the emails of our correspondences as well as the ones she sent me with her “work.”

That was all the dept. and the university needed to see, and they let myself and my 2 fellow students go home with an A since the work we had each done individually was all worth it. My new friends thanked me for all my help, we laughed a bit about the situation, and they went home for the summer. (I had to stay because of my job in the lab.)

I never found out what happened to her; the professors I worked with would never give me a straight answer, but she didn’t return the next year, and I never saw her at the national anthro convention, which was held in our town that year and attended by all students in the dept.

Something I also attended with the 2 classmates that were part of the project.

So, I guess she got to spend more time with her boyfriend.” yeahyeahiknow2

5. Lazy Comedian Pees In Shower, Gets Dressing Room Smelling Like Bleach

“So, I’ve spent my career working with a lot of household names in the UK doing live shows. Most of them are really decent people, but there are a few, though, that are nightmares. Normally there is some sort of discretion working with these people. You don’t talk about what they are like backstage, but as this guy admitted it to over 600 people in his sold-out audience, I think its fair game. Although, for professionalism, I will call him X for this.

Now I was booked to work at X’s 2nd sold-out night at a local venue.

X is a household name comedian big in the ’80s and ’90s and did enough to keep him in the public eye until recently. He’s had a lot of bad press at the venues he’s worked with, been banned by a few, and is known for being rude. Until this point, though, I had not worked with him.

Anyway, I arrived at the theatre at about 4 PM and did the usual grab a coffee, say hi to stage door, etc. when the Front of House Manager (FOH) came up to us. Apparently, she walked by X’s dressing room, and there was a horrible smell coming out of it. She asked us to investigate. (It’s not normally our job, but there had been plumbing problems there before, which we knew how to fix, so it was easy if we did it.) I volunteered and made my way to X’s dressing room.

As I got there though, the smell was horrible. It was a rancid, putrid, stale smell that lingered in the air and just wouldn’t go. I couldn’t find the exact source of it, though, which worried me. I tried everything but had to leave the room as I was starting to wretch. I figured out on my next trip back that it was coming from the shower in the dressing room, so I went to investigate. The smell was unbearable. I couldn’t see what was causing it directly, but after a while, I noticed a yellow/brown stain on the bottom of the shower cubicle. I turned the water on and was hit by an almighty urine smell.

Turns out that X couldn’t be bothered to go across the hallway (all 4 steps it took) to use the toilet, and so the night before, had peed in the shower, not rinsed it out, and left it.

Combining it with the heating and a locked room, by the next day, the smell of stale urine was unbearable.

As I was dealing with this, he arrived at the venue, insulted the front-of-house manager, and was demeaning to her, so I plotted my revenge. I went to the cleaning cupboard and found every strong disinfectant, cleaner, bleach, etc. that I could find and proceeded to spray it everywhere in the shower room. I rinsed it all away, so it was safe, then sprayed the strongest smelling disinfectant I could all over the shower room, on the carpets of the dressing room, and on all the surfaces. No matter where you went in the dressing room, you would now be greeted with the horrible chemical smell of cleaning products (usually a rinse down with water and a squirt of air freshener would do, but I was making a point).

My boss at the time said I may be going too far, but as I said, I was making a point. It wasn’t in my job description to clean up stale urine because this lazy big name act couldn’t be bothered to walk across the corridor to use the toilet. I heard nothing of it until the act started and got on stage. As usual, he started to complain about the hotel he stayed at, the local area, and then got onto the theatre… I’m going from memory here, but it was along the lines of:

“I don’t know what it is about this liberal, wishy-washy theatres,” he started, “but these liberal councils are ridiculous.” (FYI, the venue is in what could be called UKIP heartland – which explains his 2 sell-out nights there.) “The dressing room shower cubicle is huge.

It was probably built to fit the entire disabled orchestra of Ukraine in there but could they fit a b****y toilet in there… Apparently not! It’s ridiculous! So, what did I do… I p*ssed in the shower… all over it. I think they might have noticed, though. It stank of bleach when I got in there this afternoon. I can still smell it now…”

Later on during the interval, I saw him smoking outside. He was on the phone mentioning that he couldn’t go back to his dressing room because of the cleaning smell. Ah well… Hopefully, it would teach him a lesson.” magicduk

4. Want Your Daughter To Live With Me? I’ll Get Your Car Repossessed And Move Out

“So, on December 7, 2002, I left an abusive husband with nothing but my baby and the clothes on my back.

(Yes, I remember the date exactly the way alcoholics remember their sobriety anniversary.) I and my then 18-month-old son moved in with my mother, and there was tons of tension in the house from too many people.

[For example, my son and I had to share my old childhood bedroom with my brother’s then-girlfriend. They had met in a mental institution, so… yeah.]

I had a high school friend who we’ll call Entitled Friend, and she had 2 daughters by her perv boyfriend. (One night, I had too much to drink and slept in her out of town friend’s mom’s bed and woke up to find him in bed with me, trying to “get things started.”)

My friend’s mom was staying with friends in a state 1,500 miles away from us in the rural south, and her car payments were so delinquent, the financing company was looking to repossess it.

I told her that if she got no tickets, tows, or wrecks, they’d never be able to find her.

[My entitled friend moved out of the house but continued to use her mother’s laundry facilities. Friend’s Mom comes back to town to find that all her utilities had been used until they were disconnected, and she had to pay about $800 for the utilities and the deposits required to turn them back on.]

She desperately wanted me to move into her side of the duplex, which her dad owned, so she lived rent-free. [A fair rent for this place in this area would be about $450/month.]

Turned out that Entitled Friend had done this to her many times, and she had no cable TV because Entitled Friend and Perv BF had watched so much p*rn that she owed around $700 to every company that offers cable in the city.

She knew my living situation, and when she asked me to move in rent-free as long as I caught the utilities up and maintained them [and kept the house move-in ready, as it was expected that I would leave whenever my friend’s mom called to tell me she had decided to come back into town.], I readily agreed.

Because of Perv Boyfriend, I asked Friend’s Mom for a lease forbidding him from coming into the house.

Friend’s Mom also wrote in the lease, without my prompting, that her daughter could visit with my permission.

[It was 1 page, handwritten, and the only input I had was that Perv couldn’t come inside. Friend’s Mom had complete control over what else to put in the lease.]

It turned into a nightmare. Entitled Friend kept showing up to do laundry unannounced, frequently breaking into the house if I was gone. At least once, she let Perv Boyfriend into my house, and he stole my last $20.

One day, Entitled Friend saw a pair of Christmas mittens my then 2-year-old son loved. She saw them and said, “Oh, my 2-year-old would love those. Can I have them?”

And she was serious. I explained that they were my son’s and that he was still using them, and she was furious that I would be so “selfish.” The next day, my house had been broken into again for laundry day, and the mittens had disappeared.

[I spent 2 months not knowing from day to day if my house was going to be broken into or which possessions of mine would be gone because she was stealing from me. I repeatedly told her she could do laundry and even use my soap, but I wanted to be there.]

[Eventually, I resorted to just trying to get her to give me notice, so I hide things, but she never cooperated. Why didn’t I change the locks? It wasn’t really my place to change locks in this “rental” situation.]

The final straw was when I came home after a long day at work, only to find the laundry going, but my Entitled Friend wasn’t there. I had been in the middle of doing laundry myself, so I had a load in the dryer that dried before I got home and a load in the washer that should be ready for the dryer.

But not this time. Entitled Friend had thrown all my clean laundry, without drying the wet clothes, on top of a pile of lint on the floor (which was right next to the trash can that she couldn’t be bothered with.)

She had 2 loads going and 3 large bags sitting in the room. The kicker? She had left me a note that basically said, “Hey, I’m busy, can you finish this up for me?”

I called her to tell her that she had been crossing the line despite my repeated requests, but that THIS was ridiculous.

She went off on me about how it was her mom’s house, and she could do laundry there whenever she wanted to.

OK. The revenge I got on her was definitely petty. I stopped the washer and dryer and put loads of still-wet clothing into bags. Then I put all her laundry on the front porch in freezing temperatures.

I had decided to move because this was too much drama, but it would take 2 weeks. I called the police, so they could simply request that she honor the lease for at least 2 weeks. I told them I didn’t want her arrested; I just wanted peace and quiet.

[People say I should have had her arrested. But her perv boyfriend was in jail on domestic violence charges, and I didn’t want her children in foster care.]

They called her on a recorded line, and I could tell what she was saying based on the officer’s end of the conversation.

“But you moved out 6 months ago, right? Your mom doesn’t live there anymore, right? Another person with a lease lives there, right?”

He hung up the phone and said, “That was like talking to a 12-year-old on crack.” (Strangely prophetic; she later became addicted to crack and died of an overdose.)

WARNING: A long set of brackets to ignore if you choose.

[Here’s where I’m really having to explain myself because I apparently seemed to “enjoy” her addiction and death. She was drug-free in high school and a really good person. But remember the night her husband tried to r*pe me?]

[When I told her about it later, she said, “Oh, I knew he was going to do that. He’s always doing it.” The girl got me drunk, so I could get r*ped, so yeah, **** her. The sad part is, her children have no mother.]

[But she wasn’t much of a mom. Friend’s Mom told me that when her daughter was addicted, the child-rearing fell in her lap. When she confronted her daughter, telling her that she was just too old to handle such small children, Entitled Friend told her mom, “Why don’t you just put them up for adoption?”]

[Did she deserve to die over this? No. She deserved to thaw out and do her own laundry, but I did not force her to start smoking crack or “take joy” in her doing so. Before the crack addiction, she was a really good mom. H**l, even when she was stealing from me and making me miserable, I can’t say there was anything bad about her parenting.]

[I also got some “this is fake” because of the police involvement. Yes, they responded because breaking and entering, along with stealing, are crimes and not a civil matter. Yes, police depts have a special line they use, so a cop can call dispatch on his/her cell phone, get patched through to the number, and record the call.]

[The police were thrilled at only having to do this because it was clear the situation could have easily turned into a reality show clusterf*ck, and repeat calls if I had decided to stay. They didn’t have to arrest anyone or even write up a police report. They just made one 10 minute phone call.]

[I used to work as a police dispatcher, so if you want to question police stuff, feel free, and I’ll gladly explain, but this is too long.]

My friend’s Mmm was unhappy that I had called the police on her daughter, so I told her the WHOLE story and that I wasn’t pressing charges; it was just a phone call, and she said (despite the lease, she, herself, had worded), “That’s my house and that’s my daughter, so she can come and go as she pleases, and if you don’t like it, you can move.”

OK.

At the time, I was looking at a postcard her car financing company had left on her front door. I knew exactly what to do. It takes a lot to make me want to get revenge, but when I do, it’s always completely legal and VERY b*tchy.

I called the financing company and gave them her cell phone number, the address and names of the people she was staying with, their home number, and all the info I had to help them find the car. Friend’s Mom called me again later, really p*ssed, but it wasn’t MY fault she didn’t pay her bills!

She disconnected my electricity, which was in her name. So, I decided not to pay the last electric bill, which was almost $300 (! – for a 2 bedroom, really?).

I moved out and never had anything to do with her again and let her daughter wreak havoc on her utilities if that’s what she wanted.

Story over.

[About the revenge I could have gotten against Friend’s Mom… She had a “good friend” who had done the whole “marry an 88-year-old rich guy thing, and the man flew 200+ of her friends and family for a lavish wedding in Alaska where he lived.]

[Her friend felt bad about Friend’s Mom being unemployed, so she hired her to do some painting around the house. Friend’s Mom “fell” off her ladder and sued the people trying to help her out.]

[I had the Alaskan couple’s number. I could have called them and mentioned that while she was doing subcontract work on her house, she was also collecting unemployment from New Jersey.]

[I’m glad I didn’t get her into legal trouble, though, because her grandchildren deserved someone to love them while their mom was hopelessly ill.]

[Apparently, I’m an Entitled Karen for wanting my own living space when it was “free.” When you count catching up the utilities and all the stealing, those two months of h**l cost me about $4,000.” MaceGrrrl

3. Keep Playing With My Friend’s Heart? I’ll Have You Thinking I’m Out To Get you

If looks could kill…

“I attended college between the years 2006 and 2010, and during that time, I met a guy who is still a good friend of mine to this day, though, we don’t talk as much now that we’ve long since graduated and moved along with our own lives.

Tim and I met sometime during my sophomore year through a mutual friend and hit it off immediately cause were both well-meaning jacka**es who show our love by picking relentlessly on our friends. He and I had a very upbeat and fun friendship, the kind where you just understand a person from the start and never really have to work at it, and because of this, he and our friendship were very important to me.

I don’t fully remember the timeline on everything, but he dated a woman for about a year that I never really got the chance to spend any time with. It was one of those relationships where they pretty much just spent time with each other and not as much with other friends, which was fine. I think it was his first real relationship, but given that it’s been over a decade since then, I don’t really remember.

At some point, Becky broke up with him, and while I don’t recall her exact words, the general gist of her reasoning was that she had grown bored/disinterested in the relationship. It sucks, but breakups happen all the time, and I wasn’t going to fault her for doing the right thing and not leading him further along when she was no longer emotionally invested.

The next few months were rough, though. Tim was having a really difficult time getting over the breakup, and he was constantly in a slump. It took months for myself and a couple of other friends to help pull him out of it and get him back to feeling like his normal self again where he actually felt genuinely happy and content with moving forward and being single. Since the break up was not a hostile one, Tim and Becky remained friendly with one another after he’d had time to adjust his emotions, which none of us had any issues with.

About a year later, Tim comes to me and confides that Becky approached him and confessed that she felt like she had made a mistake in breaking up with him.

She told him that she still loved him and wanted to get back together. Tim came to me because he wasn’t sure what to do. He understandably still had feelings for her, as any of you who have been in a failed relationship probably understand — it’s never easy to just stop loving someone, no matter how hard they hurt you, and given that she certainly hadn’t been abusing him during their relationship, it wasn’t like there was any neon red flag screaming danger over the situation. But he was afraid of being hurt again and didn’t really know how to react to her confession.

What I wound up telling him was that he was the only one who could make the decision on whether to date her again or not because that is not a decision that anyone else could ever make for him.

However, I did make it clear that I did not like her or trust her because I believed that this was just her being nostalgic. I wholly believed that she would wind up breaking up with him again over the same reason of essentially being bored with him and reminded him of how that had affected his mental and emotional state the last time. The choice was his to make, and as his friend, I would be there for him, but I was afraid that she was essentially not going to take his feelings seriously, that she cared more about making herself feel good.

The best way I can describe what bothered me was that I felt she wanted to get back together with him just to have the chance to clarify for herself that she had made the right decision in breaking up with him in the first place, which I did not feel would be fair to him or mindful of his feelings toward her.

I made my thoughts and feelings about it known to Tim in very honest detail, and he understood. Ultimately, he wound up deciding to give her another chance. The relationship lasted less than two weeks before she decided that she really was bored by it and dumped him again. Still in love with him, my a**. I was livid.

Some context on myself, I’m generally a very easy going person. I don’t have the care or energy to get angry over most things because it’s exhausting, and frankly, I have more worthwhile things to do than waste time over people that annoy me and let them eat into my day. However, I am fiercely protective of my friends, and I was pretty ripsh*t over her careless behavior towards him when she knew how he felt about her.

Thankfully, Tim did much better with the break up this time around because I think he finally saw how little she actually cared about him, and he decided he was better off without her.

But, of course, this didn’t stop me from being p*ssed and wanting to get some kind of retaliation. Unfortunately, I went to a private Christian college that took hostile confrontations of any kind very seriously. Despite how much I wanted to put some sealant in the bed of her sh*tty, little Toyota Tacoma and fill it with water to cause some damage to her suspension, I restrained myself from any vandalism cause she wasn’t worth risking my degree over. However, I still was angry, so I decided to start **c***g with her a bit.

As a reminder, I really didn’t know Becky at all. The first time they dated, I knew who she was, but Tim had never really introduced us cause when they were together, they were alone, so I never really hung out with him when she was around. The second time they dated, he did actually take a moment to introduce her to me, but I was on my way to choir rehearsal, and the whole interaction lasted like ten seconds. So, I knew who she was, but as I came to discover later, she basically had no idea who I was, despite that introduction and despite me and Tim having been friends since long before they first started dating (shows how seriously she took him and the people in his life).

Rather than actually confronting her, I wound up deciding to play a bit of a psychological game on her. At the time I did this, I really didn’t think it was actually going to have any kind of impact or effect. It was just a petty response to me being angry with Becky for how she’d treated my friend, and I more or less accepted that it was only something that would at least make me feel better and nothing else.

What I started doing was basically just giving her the stink eye whenever we passed each other on campus, though it really was a little more than that. If we walked by each other in the hallways, I would stop whatever I was doing (walking, talking… sometimes mid-word…) to just glare at her the moment I saw her, and I would continue to do so after she walked past me, even turning around and watching her until she eventually would disappear into her next classroom or around the corner.

I never said anything, and she never really even looked back at me, so as far as I was aware, Becky never really noticed it. I also never actually followed her anywhere or did anything along the lines of stalking, only “striking” at times when I genuinely just happened to be passing her on campus. And as soon as she was gone, I would go back to what I was doing and continue on my own way. There were times I convinced myself that she moved more quickly to get past me. I even did this when other friends were present that didn’t really know what was going on, though Tim was never around during any of these instances. He did, however, know what I was doing and found it highly amusing despite also agreeing that it wasn’t going to result in anything.

It made me feel better, and it made him feel better to know that I cared that much about how she had treated him.

Turns out, we were both wrong on it having no effect.

Cue to about a year and a half later, Tim has now been dating Lisa for a few months, and things are going really well. Today, Tim and Lisa are married and have been happy together for close to ten years. Hilariously, Lisa used to be best friends with Becky, but their friendship fell apart shortly after the second time that Becky broke up with Tim because she also was not happy with Becky’s actions. (I came to understand later that she had been trying to encourage Becky not to get back together with Tim because Lisa also recognized that Becky was just feeling wishy-washy about her supposed “love” for Tim.) Anyway, Lisa was the type of girlfriend who actually wanted to have Tim’s friends involved in their lives, so she hung out with us all the time, even if Tim wasn’t there.

One day, Lisa and I were at the grocery store getting some goods for a barbecue, and the subject of Becky came up. It was mostly about what you’d expect, just us making some comments on Becky’s prior behavior and rolling our eyes a little… until Lisa made a comment about how, toward the end of their friendship, Becky hard started to go a little “crazy.” I asked her what she meant by that, and she explained that Becky had been convinced there was “some girl” at the college that had it out for her, except that Becky didn’t know who she was or even her name. She just kept insisting that there was some unknown woman that clearly hated her because she kept giving her death glares in the hallways, and Becky was terrified that this unknown girl was going to vandalize her truck (dodged a bullet not following through on that one!)

Apparently, she had been telling her circle of friends about this ever since she picked up on it, which at the time included Lisa… and all of them told her she was crazy.

The simple act of me staring daggers at her down a hallway was driving her to the edge, and every single one of her friends told her (for months) that she was just being paranoid and reading into things, and that there was no strange, unknown girl on campus that had it out for her.

Normally, I get that most people don’t take the idiom “falling over laughing” literally, but I genuinely started laughing so hard that I had to sit down in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store. Lisa just stared at me for a moment while I collected myself, and the look on her face was priceless when I revealed that I was that woman, that I had been going out of my way to make Becky feel uncomfortable, and that I actually had been considering a number of things to do to Becky’s truck but had ultimately decided against it.

Lisa was baffled. She was extremely entertained by me validating the story and confessing to being the one who had done it but also horrified with herself for realizing that she and their other friends had been telling Becky for months that she was just being dramatic when she actually wasn’t.

When we got back to my apartment and shared our findings with Tim and my fiancee at the time, we all had a great laugh about it at Becky’s expense. Tim and I were very satisfied with knowing that my stupid, petty action had been more effective than either of us ever thought it would be. And while it’s certainly not the most creative or intricate of revenge, it’s still one of my favorite personal stories to this day, if only because it had reaped a result where I never expected to actually get one.” Reddit user

2. Threaten Me Over “Your” Lizards? I’ll Sell Them And Tell You They Died

“So, a bit of a back story first: I started dating my toxic ex in 2013 fresh outta high-school.

Young, dumb, and in love. I ignored all the red flags, which were screaming for me to leave and to run!

Well, in 2014, we got a bearded dragon hatchling from one of my friends. Close to the end of the year, I discover he’s cheating on me with multiple other girls (big surprise). Me still being young, dumb, and in love, stayed, and we worked things out (or so I thought).

During all of 2015, he’s been cheating, and I didn’t even notice or realize. I go away for a week to work a food stall at the local fair, and nothing seemed off while I was gone… Turns out he was cheating on me with her for a while and even breaks up with me for her over text 2 days before our 2 year anniversary.

Okay, whatever. I’m hurt. I start packing my stuff up to return home, and something happened between them, so they aren’t talking or seeing each other anymore. Okay, whatever serves him right. Well, just as I’m about to load the last of my stuff up, he comes up to me and asks if we can talk (I should’ve said no and just left, but I didn’t), so by the end of the day, he said all the right things, and I ended up agreeing to stay, so we could work on things. (We weren’t dating again.)

So, in 2016, we move to live with his dad since he needs help. We make a 3-4 hour drive away in the middle of winter with our lizard doing everything we can to keep him warm during the travels.

We make it. The lizard lives and loves his new home.

Well, from 2016-2017 when we left and moved back to be closer to my family, he got another bearded dragon from this girl, and he gifts her to me (which is important for later). By the end of 2017, I’ve finally had enough of his b****h** (can’t hold a job, blames everyone and everything for his problems that he causes himself, spending all my money on his d***s, doesn’t contribute anything towards helping renovations on the place we had, etc.). So, right before Christmas, I told him I needed space and took him back to his mom’s. He wouldn’t leave me alone when I was at work texting and calling all the time.

So, on Christmas Eve, I go up to his mom’s early, so I can hash this **** out with him.

We talk, figure a few things out, and before we went to my family’s for Christmas, he ends up getting me a puppy.

Fast forward a couple of days, we’re fighting, he’s punching holes in my new walls, and I’m done. I tell him to pack his ****; I’m done, and he’s going back to his mom’s. He starts calling me all kinds of names and saying all kinds of other ****, like he’s gonna take the dog he got me (he didn’t; I still have her to this day), he’s gonna kill himself (an empty threat), and blah blah blah.

So, after the new year, he starts asking about the rest of his stuff the lizards and whatnot.

I end up taking the rest of his stuff except a couple of things (I couldn’t find them, or I forgot) to him, and he asks why I don’t have the lizards. I told him they wouldn’t fit in my car. (I had a 2-door car and they had a 55+ gallon aquarium.) I tell him, ‘You want them, find someone with a bigger vehicle to come to get them,’ which he can’t, so he pretty much tells me to take good care of them. I thought that was the end of that. I was wrong.

1-2 weeks later, he starts texting me saying how sorry he is for everything and how he’s gonna pay me back all the money I spent on him and he took from me and ****, which if added up, is over $3,000.

I tell him I’m not worried about it and to just leave me alone. He doesn’t.

Then he starts asking about the lizards and how his one friend wants to buy them some special “green” plant. I pretty much tell him I’m not bringing the lizards up there to be sold for $45 worth of green special plant if he didn’t want them anymore, and when I couldn’t take care of them any longer, I’d sell them and split the money with him.

Well, he didn’t like that and starts getting nasty. I ignore his texts and calls, and a couple of days later, he reaches out again demanding his lizards. I ask him if he has any income. He says no, and I tell him I’m not giving them to him if he can’t afford to take care of them properly.

I don’t hear anything back.

I head to work, and my one co-worker is talking about how her daughter wants bearded dragons. I tell her I got two, and I might be getting rid of them, but I’m not too sure yet. Well, I message my ex and tell him if he no longer wants the lizards, I have someone interested that can take really good care of them, and I’ll split the money 50/50 with him, which is a generous offer seeing how I’ve bought everything for them except the aquarium, which the other bearded dragon came in. He says, ‘No, I don’t wanna get rid of them,’ so I drop it and let it be.

After I get home from my shift on Sunday, he starts texting me and telling me to bring the lizards up; his one buddy is gonna buy them for an ounce of “green” or something like that.

I tell him absolutely not. I’m not letting him sell the lizards for green since I wouldn’t even be compensated gas money. Well, he was not happy with this and starts threatening to call the cops on me for the lizards and everything that he didn’t get (which, at this point, was over 30 days, so it was the abandonment of property since his sister had offered to bring him down to get everything), so I told him the cops wouldn’t do anything over what was left here, and two lizards who were left in my care and gifted to me considering he didn’t have a job or any type of income.

Well, he gets p*ssed and starts threatening my brother, my family, and me and wouldn’t stop till I told him that if he shows up here, I’ll call the cops on him and press charges.

He stops, and I don’t hear from him for a while.

Well, here comes the revenge (sorta).

It’s still cold, and it’s snowing, and my furnace breaks down, and my water lines freeze, so my place is no longer a good place for these lizards. So, I end up selling them to benefit them more and whatnot since the people that got them to have other bearded dragons and such.

Well, about 4 days after I sell them, I text my ex and tell them that the lizards passed away and that I was sorry but to please never contact me again as we no longer had anything to talk about. The lizards are alive and thriving still, so I’m happy with the choice I made.” allyssadawn94

1. Snobby Teacher Gets Banned From Work Over Racist Comments

Petty or essential? You pick.

“This happened when I was 12 or 13 in high school.

I went to an ‘elite’ school, and because of this, my parents took my school reports very seriously. You got marked on different things per class, one of them being ‘class participation.’ Now, by definition on the reports, it was meant to be a mark of how much you interact in the class during group work or class discussion.

I’ve always been ridiculously opinionated and had been told by multiple teachers multiple times that I was great to have in class because I always asked questions that usually helped lead them onto the next part of the lessons. I enjoyed doing this and honestly probably answered questions every lesson, etc., and it got to the point and that a lot of teachers would ignore me unless they weren’t getting the right answer out of the class.

Now, I always got top marks in participation in class. But this one teacher gave me the lowest mark you could get from it. Also, she proceeded to say in her comment that I wasn’t participating, and it was really affecting my understanding of the work. This was lies; I had ALWAYS been up to discuss or have an opinion on something and had no idea where this came from.

From that point on, I stopped participating in class completely… I still did my work, but I refused to speak in class. She called me into a disciplinary with my parents and told them again I was not participating and that it would affect my understanding of work. My parents tried to get me to participate, but I still refused… The teacher then retired soon after, and I didn’t have to be taught by her again…

Proceed a couple of years, and she comes in as a substitute.

She remembers me and makes a snide comment that I’d finally learned to participate in front of the class. I was annoyed.

We were discussing a book with heavily racist undertones, and she started making comments about how you don’t see mixed children in the area we lived in and that the people of this area would be very aggressively racist towards mixed children and that we had to accept our racism. Also, she proceeded to go into detail about racial slurs you could call them.

I’m a mixed child, fairly obviously I don’t look white.

Throughout all of this, I had my hand up to say that I don’t agree and that I think it would be best to move on.

She finally told me when she was done that I could put my hand down as it wasn’t time for flagrant opinions.

I was livid and went to my headteacher to relay what she’d said about mixed children and got a bunch of my friends to back me up.

I was called into a meeting with her, and my parents joined halfway through… She said she didn’t see how what she said was a lie and that I wasn’t being too sensitive about things I know nothing about…

Enter my parents with a threat to sue the school, and suddenly, she’s banned from working at our schools, and a statement was released stating she was no longer permitted to work in the area due to racial comments. (Honestly, I wouldn’t have gone to my headteacher if she hadn’t annoyed me so much before…)” lopsided-kitten

My little advice is, don’t be a petty person unless the situation necessitates it! And I’m pretty sure at least a good handful of the previous situations necessitated pettiness for both revenge purposes and for entertainment purposes.

Which was your favorite story from this list?