People Share Their Most Passive Aggressive Revenge Stories

A. Lynn

Published on December 4th, 2019

‘Okay, added pickles.’

I’m already on his sandwich and I make it with a handful of pickles. About 20 pickles. A Mcdouble comes with 2. The burger comes back.

Customer: ‘Didn’t I say I wanted a F*CKTON of pickles? Hey you, in the back! Make my **** sandwich right next time. I want a f*ckton of pickles, like more pickles than sandwich.’

I just say to myself that it’s this guy’s funeral.

I proceed to take the entire container of pickles and plaster them all over the sandwich. Bun, pickles, burger, cheese, pickles, McChicken, pickles, burger, pickles, onion, pickles, mustard, ketchup, pickles, mayo, pickles, lettuce, pickles.

I have to use 4 wrappers for the monstrosity that I made that could create fissures in your face. But I wasn’t done. I grabbed a to-go container meant for hotcakes. I proceed to put as much of the bucket as I could in there, then I had an epiphany.

‘Just get a bunch of cups.’ I emptied the whole bucket if pickles into about 5 cups. I send his order out. I never saw him again. Got his pickles tho.” Alacieth
29. Steal Her Spot? We’ll Tag Team Yours

“I did this instinctively.

We are in a concert hall for some concert. I arrive early and grab a prime seat. This elderly woman comes over and grabs a seat 6-7 seats from me.

The hall fills up. The woman leaves to go to the washroom. This dude grabs her seat.

She comes back and protests, but he would not listen. People complain, but he is not going to budge. His argument: ‘Seats cannot be reserved here.’

I eye signal to the dude to come over to take my prime seat. I grab my stuff and pretend to be on my way out missing the concert entirely.

The lady also thinks I am leaving and everyone will have a seat and be happy.

He quickly starts rushing to my place. The lady sits in the place he vacated.

Oops. I changed my mind. I quickly sit down and enjoy the concert.” Akash Tanwar

28. Send Us A Sleezebag As Reassurance? We’ll Rack Up An $18,000 Tab

“When you work in finance you learn that some people on Wall Street are every bit as vile as they are portrayed in the movies.

We are a stock trading firm, and we were having big problems with our most important software platform. So they sent out a guy to reassure us of their commitment to us.

Let’s call him Vinny (yes, they are this stereotypical). Vinny is from Long Island. Slicked-back hair. Big league accent. Garish cufflinks. Overdoes it on the protein powder and gym time.

The meeting is unsuccessful, so he takes us out for drinks as a final push.

As if it were scripted, it’s the best-known cougar bar in the area. Dark hardwood everywhere. The scotch list was good, at least.
He tells us to order whatever we want and brags about taking people to boxes at Yankee Stadium and such as that. Half a dozen of us or so are sitting at the table. We’re having an OK time.

Then the most reassuring event of the day occurs.

His wife and kids call to say goodnight. He’s playful and kind. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

But it only lasts thirty seconds.

Immediately after the call ends, Vinny slams down the phone, turns to our waitress and asks her to sleep with him. Uggh.

She stumbles through a rejection, suspended by surprise.

‘Tonight is my 21st birthday so I’m going out.’

‘Sounds great. We’ll celebrate with a bottle of champagne in my room.’

‘Uhh, actually, my mom is the one taking me out, it’s a great time for us to be together.’

‘There’s room at my hotel for three.’

At this point, I’m practically pinching myself, in utter disbelief that this could possibly be real.

This guy just told his wife and kids he loves them, then asks somebody else’s wife and kid to sleep with him. In front of dissatisfied clients. This was as real as it gets.
As the weight of what I was witnessing set in, my mind became more alive that it has ever been since. I hatched a plot.

At that moment Vinny and I became good buddies.

We joked, told stories, and most of all we drank. A lot.

Then we started taking shots. Well, really, once he had the idea Vinny took a bunch of shots on his own to impress us.

That’s when I ordered more scotch. The most expensive glass on the menu was $450. I ordered doubles. For the entire table.

And then I ordered another round.

By the time the check came, Vinny was blackout drunk.

It was $12,000. ‘Whatever we want,’ he had insisted, looking earnestly into my eyes.

‘Yo John, I’m so trashed man, can you do the tip for me? Make it real nice, this was fun, right?’

‘Sure. Nothing would make me happier.’

With hidden glee I did, indeed, ‘make it real nice.’ $12,000 tab, $6,000 tip. 50%. Vinny signed with a smile on his face.

On the way out I gave the waitress my sincerest apology and told her happy birthday.

The next week we get a call from Vinny’s boss.

‘Mr. Roberson, I hate to bother you, but I noticed that only a handful of people managed to spend $18,000 on drinks. Could you confirm that this is correct? I just want to make sure Vinny wasn’t taking advantage.’
So I tell him the entire story.

‘…and if he can’t be trusted to be faithful to his wife for 30 seconds, how can we trust any promise that he makes? We’re happy to reimburse you for that evening if you like.

Or you can fix your software within four weeks, as promised – as well as a list of upgrades I’m sending you – and we’ll be your customers moving forward. Which do you prefer?’ They’ve not missed a deadline since. Source
27. Act Rude? I’ll Turn Into A Mime

“One day, while working at a popular big box pet store, I watched a customer walk in the door, look at one shelf, and then walk directly to me.

Before I can say anything this person yells at me, ‘This is a pet store, why don’t you have any ****** aquarium filters?!?’ I held up one hand in a gesture for them to stop and smiled. Then, like a mime, I gestured for them to follow me, and walked away so quickly they had to jog to keep up. I led them directly to the entire aisle dedicated to aquarium filters.

Yes, an entire 20-foot aisle, 3 shelves tall of filters. I did a grand gesture encompassing the literally hundreds of filters we had in stock, and then put a finger to the side of my mouth making an ‘o’ of surprise with my eyebrows ridiculously high. Then I grinned really big and shrugged as the customer spluttered. To exit, I bowed and did a 180 turn while bowing, then stood up straight and strolled away.

Yep, I was taking the piss acting like a mime!” Source
26. Fake Being Deaf? I’ll Catch You In The Act

“When I worked at a national bookstore chain. One day, we had a lady come in with a sign that said, ‘Deaf Please Help, Bracelets $10.”‘The ‘bracelets’ in question were bits of colored string. This lady proceeded to aggressively hassle our customers which sent my boss into a tizzy.

He comes to me and asks me to get rid of her. So I take a bit of receipt paper and write on it then sneak up behind the ‘deaf’ lady. I call out, ‘Hey lady want a $20?’ She immediately whirls around and I hand her the slip of paper which reads, ‘Cops coming, 6 mins’. She looks at the paper then at me wild-eyed.

I look at my watch and say, ‘Actually it’s more like three minutes now, it took a bit…’ Before I can finish, she makes a mad dash for the door. Everyone stares after her, and I call out, ‘Have a nice day!’ For some reason that received chuckles and some applause.” Source
25. Start Preaching? I’ll Slip You A Dirty Magazine

“When I first started working at the national bookstore chain they put me at the cashier.

One of the many things I had to learn was what adult magazines we kept under the counter. I have never seen a grown man blush so hard as when my boss had to go through and show me all the magazines we sold. Technically he didn’t have to show them all to me one by one. He just turned so red at the mention of the ‘dirty magazines’ that I couldn’t help but play dumb and have him explain each one to me individually.

Anywho, about the time he was explaining Biker B**ches (I’m not sure of the exact name, but think black leather, chrome, and ladies) the door dings as a customer walks in and my manager lets out a long groan.
Apparently, the frumpy looking woman who had just walked in the door was a trouble maker. Every month she would come in and buy the trashiest romance novels she could find in the bargain racks and try to use expired or fake competitor’s coupons to take 40-60% off the clearance price.

If the cashier refused (as they should) an argument would ensue. It always ended with a manager coming over and giving her a discount to get her to leave. That’s not why he groaned though. Before she starts shopping, she makes a point of approaching as many of our other customers as she can find and says something like this:
‘Did you know they sell pornography here?’ she would say with an indignant scowl, ‘If it wasn’t the only bookstore within walking distance I wouldn’t set foot in here, I can’t see how any GOOD Christian would!’ ‘Good’ would be emphasized in such a way as to imply that all other people in the store were the spawn of Satan.

My manager and I eavesdropped on one of her exchanges because he thought I didn’t believe him when he said how bad she was.

So here’s a lady that would buy books that make ******* blush and she was judging? When my boss and I got back to the register, he told me to give her what she wants, any discount, just get her out. He hurries away so as not to be caught, and I make a small purchase in anticipation of my interaction with her.

Shortly thereafter, she comes to the register with her cut-rate romances and slams them down. She squints up at me and says:
‘I can’t believe a good Christian boy like you would work in a place like this!’

‘What do you mean?’ I say.

‘They sell magazines here!’ She says waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

‘Yes ma’am, the magazines are at the back of the store, did you need help finding one?’ I say helpfully.

‘No, DIRTY magazines!’ She says wagging her finger in my face.

‘Yes, we have those too, which would you like?’ I say pulling out a stack of the raunchiest ones I could grab and putting them on the counter.

Her face blanches. ‘Put those away I don’t want them!’ I don’t know how she managed it but she seemed to whisper and yell this at the same time.

‘But I thought you…’ I say innocently as I put the offending material back below the counter.

‘Never mind what you thought,’ she says, ‘just ring up my books and here’s my coupon!’

‘Yes, ma’am not problem ma’am!’ I say as she hands me three books marked down to $3 with an expired Borders coupon for 40% off one book. I ring her up. ‘That’ll be six dollars and twelve cents, is there anything else I can help you with today?’

‘Here,’ she says handing me her credit card, ‘and for heaven’s sake find yourself another job.’

I handed her the credit slip to sign.

While she was preoccupied I slid her books and the copy of Biker B***hes I had purchased when my boss had walked off, into a plastic bag.

‘Have a great day!’ I said cheerfully. She grabbed the bag and humphed out the door. As far as I know, she never came back. Source
24. Don’t Want To Properly Take Care Of A Bird? I’ll Concoct A Big Lie

“So I’m working in the live animal section of that popular pet big box store and a lady walks up to me.

Me: ‘Hello ma’am, is there something I can help you with?’

Her: ‘Do them birds has to have a cage?’

Me: ‘The parakeets? Yes, they have to have a cage.’

Her: ‘Why?’

Me: ‘Well ma’am, besides being extremely messy, they are also basically babies. They aren’t trained to be friendly yet and will try to and inevitably escape. After they escape they will either fall prey to other animals or starve as they don’t know how to find food.’

Her: ‘What you mean they can’t find food?’
Me: ‘I mean, they don’t know what to look for in the wild.

They will look for a bowl to eat from and die if they don’t find one. It’s just like people. If you were dropped in the middle of the woods how long would you survive?’

Her: ‘You sayin’ I’m stupid?’

Me: ‘No ma’am, I’m sure you’d last longer than me, I’m a city boy (untrue but I was trying to mollify her still).’

Her: ‘Well, what if I don’t want no cage?’

Me: ‘Then we can’t sell you a bird.’

Her: ‘What if I get a cage at Walmart?’

Me: ‘That would be fine, you don’t have to buy the cage from us.’

Her: ‘Then I’ll buy the bird now and get the cage later!’

Me: ‘I’m sorry ma’am, you’ll have to bring in the cage so we can be sure it meets the needs of the bird.’

Her: ‘What cage?’

Me: ‘The one you are going to buy at Wal Mart.’
Her: ‘I ain’t buying no cage, and what business is it of yours, anyway?’

Me: ‘We guarantee these birds, if they die and we have to issue a refund because we didn’t make sure the customer will take proper care of them we get in trouble (And they are my babies and I’m not giving them to someone who doesn’t want to take care of them properly, is what I wanted to say).

Her: ‘I want to talk to the person in charge.’

*I go look for a manager only to find I was the most senior employee on the floor at the time*

Me: ‘I’m sorry, the manager is on lunch and I am in charge.’

Her: ‘Then you,’ she said poking me in the chest, ‘need to sell me my bird!’

Me: *Thinking quickly, I cough, then looking around as if I’m going to get into trouble, I motion her in close and whisper* Don’t tell anyone I told you this…

Her: *leaning in, suddenly confused rather than upset, she mimics my whisper* What?

Me: *still whispering and looking around periodically* I’m not supposed to sell any of the birds…

Her: ‘What? Why not?’

Me: *I cough again* ‘They don’t want a panic, so I’m just supposed to put everyone off buying them…’

Her: ‘Why would anyone panic?’

Me: ‘Our birds are all sick!’

Her: ‘What?’

Me: *cough* ‘Yeah,’ *cough* ‘with bird flu!’

Her: *her face drops in fright and she starts backing away from the cages* ‘What?’

Me: *coughing throughout* ‘We don’t have anywhere else to put them, and corporate doesn’t want to waste money by destroying them so we just have to hope they get better.’

Her: *covering her mouth and nose with her hands* ‘Why didn’t you just say?’

Me: *wheezing now* ‘I could get fired if word gets out, and I need the money for the doctor.

Please don’t say I said!’

Her: *starting to leave* ‘I won’t!’

Me: ‘Please!’ *I plead pitifully as she is walking hurriedly away.*  Source
23. Make A Comment About My Body? I’ll Give You A Reason To

“Like most teenage girls, I was nervous to wear a bikini in public. Unlike most teenage girls, I also had (and have) psoriasis. However, when I went camping with my family I decided to throw caution to the wind and ‘dare’ to wear a two-piece.

Well. I was having so much fun swimming and skipping rocks across the river that I had forgotten all about my skin when a woman who was a stranger to me approached and, pointing at my spots, said with real curiosity, ‘What happened? The bed bugs get ya?’ I was speechless for a moment, utterly shocked that a stranger would feel comfortable commenting on my body.

Then, I extended my hand for her to shake, and when she took it I said, deadpan, ‘No, I have leprosy.'” Source
22. Wear Our Best? We’ll Dress To The Nines

“I was working in a small accountant’s office, there’s only 7 of us. We were part of a larger ‘chain’ so occasionally, the owner/managing director would visit. Now, our office was located on the outskirts of an industrial estate and the attire was smart casual.

Very relaxed atmosphere and we had a reputation for being the ‘fun’ branch. We had a new manager start with the company, and on his first day (Thursday), we can see he’s going to be difficult. He turns up in a gleaming BMW, full suit and tie. Full on professional look. Attitude to match.
At the end of his second day (Friday), he sent a branch-wide memo that he expected us to dress more appropriately.

That all staff was to wear full business suits, men with ties, women with ascots. He also complained that the staff cars were ‘too grubby,’ our desks were untidy and did not reflect our profession. He also insisted that when referring to each other in phone calls or e-mails, we called each other, ‘Mr. Smith,’ or ‘Miss Jones,’ instead of ‘Larry’ or ‘Susan.’

Now, as I mentioned — we’re located on an industrial estate and the vast majority of our clients were small self-owned businesses – they already thought we were dressed well because they’d turn up in messy jeans and t-shirts driving beat up old vans.

After work, we all went to the pub (without the new manager), moaned a bit but thought, ‘he’s just flexing his managerial muscles, humor him and he’ll start to relax.’ The following week, we turn up as requested and had our cars washed, desks somewhat tidier. Everything seems to be going fairly well, until the next Friday when we receive another e-mail:

“To all,

Whilst I recognize that there has been some improvement in the staff’s and office appearance, I feel there is still significant room for further improvement.

As you may know, [Owner] is visiting a 10:30 am on Monday. I expect all staff to wear their best clothing, for desks to be tidy and vehicles to be washed. [etc]

[New Manager]”
Again, we went to the pub. This time, we schemed. He wanted a good impression, he’ll ****** well get one. I’m sure a lot of you are thinking, ‘Oh, you just turned up in really nice suits, better than his, and showed him up.” We did, but we did much more too.

We contacted the cleaner, who cleaned our office on Saturdays. Ask her if she’s okay going overboard on the cleaning. She agrees. Extra work for her means more money for her.

One of our clients happens to be in the classic car business, mainly weddings. He’s been a client for years and we get on really well. We ask if we can borrow a couple of cars (as all who needed to drive could all car-pool in two).

He agrees as business was quiet, so long as we pay for the petrol – which split 7-ways was totally worth it.
Roll on to Monday morning: A Rolls Royce Phantom III & a Lagonda 14/60, meticulously polished are sitting in our car park, sunlight glinting off the bodywork. Inside, the desks are completely clear, the metals bins polished, door handles polished, even our filing cabinet handles and our pencil sharpeners had been polished.

It looked better than new. The men are all wearing black tie dinner suits with waistcoats [US: Tuxedo], with a fresh rose in the button-hole. Sterling silver cuff links. Beards are trimmed or totally shaven, two of us even waxed our mustaches. Women are in stunning evening dresses, sparkly jewelry, fancy hair (self-styled, didn’t waste money on hairdressers). Even brought in a hat stand, and placed bowlers and top hats on it for extra fanciness.

Essentially, we looked like we were expecting to see the Queen walk in.
New Manager (NM) pulls up with the Owner as a passenger. You can see them both look briefly puzzled, but they must have assumed that the classic car client must be visiting, so they walk in chatting. NM’s face drops, he stops mid-sentence. He is the worst dressed (barring the owner, who was smart-casual), had the scruffiest car and his desk was the messiest.

We get eyes that say, ‘If I could kill you all right now, I would.’ Owner and NM go into NM’s office to discuss something.

Eventually, the owner comes out, NM remains in his office to deal with something. Owner catches one of my colleagues to ask what the **** we’re doing. Colleague just pulls up the e-mail and says, ‘He insisted we wore our absolute best for you, so we did.’ Owner stifles a laugh.

He can see exactly what we’ve done. Fortunately, we all knew him and his relaxed attitude so we knew we’d probably get away with it. He half-heartedly ‘chides’ us for being petty when NM is coming out of the office.
Once the owner has gone, and NM returns, he writes us a blazing e-mail saying something along the lines of, ‘You might think you’re funny, I don’t.

If you all want to turn up to work scruffy, go ahead. Look unprofessional.’ We return to our usual casualness the day after, clearly to his disfavor, and after a few weeks, NM transfers to a different branch. Our new-new Manager was one of us lower-ranks promoted, so the casual atmosphere continued to reign. NM snubbed us whenever we saw him, which was fortunately rare.” AnnualAntics
21. Steal My Tips? I’ll Catch You Red-Handed

“When I was 18, I was working in the 5-star hotel cleaning rooms and changing sheets to make some extra money while studying.

The job was very bad and paid 2 euro per hour, but sometimes guests would leave tips for us for the cleaning and usually one tip was half of our day salary. We shared among the housekeeping girls and we were ok with it.

One day, our manager came in and forbid us to enter the rooms after the guests checked out. He said he has to go in first to make sure that guests left nothing behind in the room. It sounded reasonable as sometimes guests claimed they forgot some jewelry in the room and when we did not find it we were accused of stealing it.

It was very uncomfortable for us, so we agreed that a manager checking the room first is a good idea.
But from that day on we were not finding the tips anymore. Well, sometimes there was 1 Euro left, but that’s it. Of course, the first thing in my mind was that the manager is taking our tips. I wanted to make sure so I entered one room before he got in and saw a nice tip and box of chocolates on the table with the thank-you note for the cleaning girl.

I left it the way it was. Then the manager got in and after checking it he confirmed the room is ok for us to clean.

When I came in again, of course, the tip was gone and so was the chocolate box! I found it in the trash with all the chocolates eaten. UNBELIEVABLE!! I understand that everyone is after money, but this one was so shameless.

He even ate all the chocolates for the cleaning girls!

I got really angry, but he was my boss and I was 18 years old. I did not know how to confront him directly as I would have to accuse him of stealing which was serious AND difficult to prove.

So I wrote a note: ‘You sneaky little b**tard, you go around bullying us for our work all the time and then you have the nerve to STEAL the money meant for us?! Shame on you!! V.’
I put the note in the envelope together with some coins, closed it and I wrote, ‘Thank you, Veronika!’ on it, so it looked like a note from the guest (The guests knew our names as we left the notes with our names after the cleaning).

I placed the envelope in one room just before the manager came in ‘to check it.’

I was thinking: if he won’t open the envelope, no harm was done because he never finds out what is inside. But if he opens the envelope which is clearly not meant for him, he gets exactly what he deserves. But the most satisfying thing was that he can’t cover up once opening the envelope as there was MY handwriting all over it.

I was waiting in front of the room when he gets out. Well, you can guess what happened. He ran out totally furious, completely red, shaking and kicking the door. I was standing right in front of him, looking in his eyes, an 18-year-old girl, no less! He was SO angry but didn’t say a word to me! I won!
Of course, he figured out there is nothing he can do as he was caught in the act and doing anything about it would mean he has to admit he was stealing.

I found the envelope torn apart all over the room. Next day, he invited me into his office offered me a drink (I did not realize it was ok to drink during a shift, but apparently most of the hotel managers did), he apologized, explaining how stressful his work is and that he needed money for this and that reason. He pleaded not to tell on him promising that he will stop.

He seemed so scared and helpless I was almost sorry for him. I told him to be nicer to us, that everybody working here is under stress, I think he understood. He never escalated this issue anymore, neither did I. Anyway, he was fired two months or so later, so I guess his habits got him somewhere else.” Source
20. Touch Me While I’m Sleeping? I’ll Cut You

“This was the very early 80’s and I often took Greyhound buses to go across the state, etc.

So I was on an overnight bus ride. It was probably the middle of the night and we stopped to let some more people on. The bus wasn’t crowded, still, a man in a suit sat next to me. That was ok. I was tired; I planned to sleep.

I covered up with a blanket and since I am petite, I was able to cross my legs on the seat and lean back comfortably.

I was woken up sometime later by the lightest, briefest touch on my thigh under the blanket. I didn’t move but lay there wondering if I had imagined it. I mean, I had tucked the blanket in around me. I couldn’t understand how the man had managed to get under the layers without me noticing; I am a very light sleeper. Plus, I had lived with the fear of scorpions in my bed  (I was in the Middle East for weeks) and I had gotten into the habit of waking up in the middle of the night and lying still as a stone in case one was under the covers with me.

Instead of reacting, I lay there and waited. And in a minute or so, yes, I could feel his hand move by the merest fraction of an inch. It was hovering just over my leg. I was stunned. How had he done it? How had he kept his hand and arm so still? How had he worked his hand under the blanket which was over me without me knowing?

I turned to look at him and he appeared to be sleeping.

And then I got mad.

I carried a knife with me. I slowly pulled it out of my bag I was using for a head rest against the window. I unsheathed it and held it under the blanket over my lap. Then slowly, very slowly I moved it, very slowly until the tip was against the man’s hand. It was a very sharp knife. The hand moved slowly back.

Then I pushed harder and faster and his hand became tangled in the blankets. He didn’t have a chance. During this entire encounter, I didn’t look at him and just appeared asleep.

He managed to get his hand out but I drew ***** and he got up and left me alone.” Source
19. Harass Me With Perverted Phone Calls? I’ll Push Jesus On You

“For several months I was awakened a couple of times a week at 2 or 3 in the morning by my ringing telephone.

It was always the same male voice who called me by name and before I was fully awake enough to recognize what was happening and hang up, he would describe, through heavy breathing, the perverted ****** things he wanted to do to me.

I never responded, thinking that any reaction might encourage him, but the calls kept coming. I was very concerned since he knew my name and had my unlisted phone number.

He probably also had my address so I did not want to antagonize him… but I wanted the calls to stop.

One day I confided what had been happening to a co-worker and she suggested a great solution. The next time he phoned, I said, ‘Oh, I’m so glad you called me.’

He was obviously surprised and said, ‘You are?’

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Let’s talk about Jesus!’

There were a few seconds of silence, then HE hung up the phone.

I never heard from him again.” Source
18. Ask For The “Experienced” Employee? I’ll Give You The Guy Who’s Been Here The Longest

“A few years ago I worked for Company X as the manager of some key administrative staff. At the time, I had 4 employees;

– Generic Employee
– Rock Star Employee
– New Guy Employee
– Total Idiot Employee (could not be fired as he was related to some very senior managers – nepotism at its best)

We worked closely with the Operations Team where one of our responsibilities was to perform certain tasks – without which the entire operation would grind to a halt.

At the time, there had been some expansion and a second shift was introduced (thus New Guy was hired). Like anytime something new happened, there were a lot of teething issues. At the time, Total Idiot and Generic were covering the new afternoon shift (rotating weekly) while I had New Guy learning the ropes on the morning (where the workload was a lot heavier) with Rockstar and Generic Employee/Total Idiot on their week of mornings.

As mentioned, there were some problems with introducing a new shift and the Operations Manager (who I had worked with in the past and we didn’t really get along) did as most managers do when something isn’t going right – passed the blame over to our end.

One thing I really didn’t like about Ops Manager was she was the type to go behind your back and be nothing but smiles to your face.

At the time, Operations Manager wanted Rock Star on her shift – because he was the type of person who would constantly go above and beyond to make things happen (read: fix her problems). Instead of asking me if it was possible, Ops Manager went to our boss’ boss to complain that everything that was going wrong was due to my department and how she needed my most experienced employee on her shift.

The next day I got an email from The Boss with Operations Manager, My Boss and Her Boss copied in;

‘…… please ensure your most experienced employee is on the afternoon shift to help Operations Manager.’

I was a little annoyed. I must have spent about 10 minutes just looking at that email – my temper consistently rising the entire time. Until it finally dawned on me – Ops Manager wanted Rock Star but the request was for my most experienced employee.

What Ops Manager didn’t realize was that Total Idiot had started about 2 months before Rock Star – and a few years before Generic Employee.

Suddenly, I was in a great mood and must have had the biggest grin on my face as I typed my reply.

‘Hi The Boss,

We are of course happy to help Ops Manager with the multitude of issues happening within her shift.

As such, Total Idiot, being my most experienced employee will spend the next 8 weeks working only on Ops Managers shift.’

My boss and I had a great laugh over it – as it was essentially career ******* to complain about Total Idiot –  there was nothing Ops Manager could do but grin and bear it.” TragicWords
17. Dance With Other “People?” I’ll Dance With EVERYONE

“Small backstory: At the time, I was 15 or 16 years old (female), this was a few years ago.

I was dating a Mormon boy and we went to a Mormon dance for all of the teens to ~mingle~. Important: I am bisexual and have excellent gaydar.

When I was asked to attend a Mormon dance, I was ecstatic. I mean, a chance to dance with my boyfriend who I barely get to spend time with? Sign me up!

I get ready, nothing too flashy or showy because, well, those are the rules.

When we get there, the bishops says his piece, ‘Remember to not just dance with one person. This is for socializing, not to be a date!’ I swear, he looked at me in particular.

I’ve always had issues with the sisters and brothers from the ward, as we aren’t supposed to date until after the man gets back from his mission. Plus, we’re supposed to date with the intent of marriage.

However, I was not Mormon. I just happened to like a Mormon boy. The issue was that we are supposed to socialize with all types of people from the opposite gender and that there is no specific person we are supposed to prefer over the other as it is not our time to start dating.
So, the dance gets to starting and my boyfriend and I take the first slow dance, of course.

Because we are way more affectionate than the other dancers, my bishop steps in and separates us. He states, ‘You need to dance with other people.’ Other people. Okay. Fine. I will.

After the slow dance is over, I start looking around while sitting down because I’m ****** to dance with anyone else…then, I spot her. I’ll have you know Mormons are VERY *****************. I know this. She knows this.

Her mother, sitting there, knows this.

I get the idea. Dance with her, disrupt this meeting, but pretend to be just friends and as if I saw her alone (which I did) and wanted to allow her to have fun (which I was).

I ask her to come dance with me on one of the faster songs and she agrees, and we dance a little close. I can feel her mom fuming from across the room, but that only gives me more incentive.

I ask her if she is bi or gay and she says she is bi. I say something to the likes of , ‘Wanna turn this event upside down?’ and she smiles at me. I start to get more personal, grabbing her hand and lifting it above her head, spinning her and pulling her in.
I mean, she is a person, right? What’s the issue?

A slow song comes on.

I look at her and extend my hand out to dance and she accepts. We start dancing and get looks. My boyfriend is shaken, too, ****.

About halfway through, the mom got the bishop to separate us. The look on his face when I said, ‘Well, she’s a person and not my boyfriend so I decided to dance with her.” with a sickly sweet smile. I mean, I’m just being compliant mister!!!!!!

I smiled and stepped away.

‘Sorry! Guess you shouldn’t stop me from doing what I want!’

That night was one of the best times I’ve stood up for myself and also challenged religious views and rules for the first time. I still don’t regret it and the girl thanked me around a year ago for giving her the last push to stand up to her mom and now she’s out of the closet.’ good_bad_dirty
16. Kick Over Our Sand Castle? We’ll Reinforce It

‘I was around 8 years old and I was at the beach with my little brother and my parents.

We could not swim because the ocean was full of jellyfish and most of them were dead, floating on the top of the sea and crashing on the beach.

My brother and I decided that we will go and build a castle instead. We spent a considerable amount of time building it and we were really having fun.

We noticed that there was this teenager going around and destroying castles from other kids.

He was really enjoying destroying what other kids had built. We were staying next to our castle so that way he would not come too close and try to destroy it as well.
It worked and he let us alone for some time. But he was still looking at us to find an opportunity to destroy it. Our parents called us for lunch and we had to leave our castle alone…  After a few minutes, the teen saw that we weren’t there anymore.

He came and start hitting the castle very hard with his feet and jumped on it a couple of times. Every part of the castle was destroyed and we had to start from scratch all over again.

My little brother and I were very sad. We spent so much time building it. Our sadness turned to anger and we were determined to seek revenge. This was war! W chatted, and we finally came up with a plan.

We decided to use large rocks and some of the dead jellyfish inside our castle, covering it up with sand. We kept a close eye on the evil teen, making sure he couldn’t see what we were doing.
I went to the sea with my sand castle bucket and got a few jellyfish inside. My brother was getting the rocks. We built the castle, full of rocks and dead jellyfish on each side of it.

Naturally, we went back with our parents, lying down on our towels and started watching. The plan worked as planned. This kid saw that we went away again and to hit our castle as hard as possible… which he did.

Quickly after the first hit, he fell on the sand and started screaming and crying. One of his feet was bleeding and had large red burning marks because of the jellyfish.

I don’t think he ever touched another castle after that!  Source
15. Want To Break A Big Bill? I’ll Give You Big Change

“I used to be a cashier at a supermarket where I lived. In that particular area, people had a habit of buying meaningless stuff (like a pack of gum) and pay with large bills (over €50).

They did this because, for some reason, going to the bank was beneath them (someone said this to a colleague).

This usually happened at the beginning of the month. Sometimes, I would ask them if they didn’t have a smaller amount and they would shake ‘no’ while I could hear the change in their pockets

They also used to think that we had an unlimited supply of coins. Usually, we would receive them every Thursday so when we were short, we would ask customers for spare change to make it easier (if the total was 11,80 and the person paid with €20 we would ask for 1,80 and then the change would only be €10.

That day, my supervisor had told me that we were running very low and it was almost closing time. Two guys bought a small item and paid with a 100€ bill. I asked them if they had a smaller amount. They said no. I explained that I would have to give their change in small coins. They insisted.

When I started counting the money they realized they would leave with handfuls of small change and said that they could pay with a smaller amount.

Unfortunately for them, company policy prevented me from accepting money after the till was open (to prevent scams). The look on their faces when I deposited the mountain of change on their hands was priceless.” Source
14. Throw A Hissy Fit? I’ll Record You And Show Your Mom

“So I drive an 18 wheeler. Not only that, but I own my truck and my business.

One day, while coming into Laredo, Texas, I was in the turning lane for my exit and this car whips out in front of me.

Not really having enough room to stop, I turned onto the shoulder, threw on the air horn (which is extremely loud when you’re next to the truck) and stopped right beside the guy.

He proceeds to get out of his car with his phone and starts taking pictures of my truck and plate. By this time, the light had turned green so I gave him a few short horn honks to basically tell him to get going.

He then beats on my door, so I roll my window down and he starts screaming about his ears hurting and how I’m damaging his ability to hear. He then demands that I give him my bosses number and my Driver’s License Number, so he can call it in and report me and, “have my job for this.” And he proceeded to move his car to the shoulder and backs so close to my bumper, I couldn’t get around him.

I kind of smirked at him and told him he didn’t want to speak to my boss because he’s is a short-tempered man and that he wouldn’t like what my boss would have to say about this issue, but he insisted that he speak to my boss. I also told him if he wanted to call me in, all he’d need was the numbers on the side of my truck since it’s assigned to me (considering I only own one truck, you can imagine what I would assign my truck number to be).

I gave him my cell phone number and watched as he laughed while speaking each number as he dialed. I see his number pop up on my phone mounted to the windshield (he couldn’t see it from his angle) and tried to hold in my laughter. I let it ring for a minute and he’s getting impatient, the whole time traffic is going around us. I finally picked up the phone and answered it.

“*Insert Company Name Here* Transport. How can I help you?” His face turns to beet red.

He proceeds to yell at me some more and tells me it isn’t over because now he has my number (yeah dude, so do about 100,000 other people. So what?)
A week later I get a phone call from a number I didn’t have saved in my phone. I had forgotten about the incident but thought it might be a broker or a customer.

I answer the phone and this lady chirps up. Turns out it was the guy’s mother and she wanted monetary compensation for her son’s troubles.

I asked if she knew what had even happened and she tells me some story about how his bumper was damaged by my truck and that he was scared to talk to me because me driving an 18 wheeler was intimidating to him.

Being a smart owner, I have a camera in my truck, and I dump all my trucks footage onto my hard drive, so I asked her if she could receive videos over email. She said sure but wasn’t sure what I was about to send her.
I spend a minute or two looking through the hard drive on my laptop and find the video of the incident and send it to her.

While still on the phone, I can hear the audio playing as she watched it. Her tone changed in an instant and I heard her put the phone down, and all **** broke loose in that house. There was Spanish screaming, things being thrown, and lord knows what else going on. It reminded me of that movie “A Christmas Story” when Ralphie’s mom calls that lady about the curse word and hears the apocalypse on the phone.

Yeah, it was kind of like that, but in Spanish.

She then comes back to me and very kindly asks for two things. 1. She asks that I forget she called and act as if this never happened because she was embarrassed to no end, and 2. If I could delete the video of her son’s idiocy. I told her that number 1 was fine, I could do that.

But as far as number 2, I would not delete the footage, but the only way anyone other than me or her would see it is if it was needed for a court case. She bid me a good day and hung up the phone.” FBomb2F
13. Ask To Speak To Someone Who Died? I’ll Bring Him In

“My father died on Father’s Day 2012. He was divorced and living alone, and I am an only child.

So that means that I had to wrap up all of his affairs. This story centers around us trying to get his utilities canceled.

I called in to see what we had to do to get them to cancel. The lady I spoke with on the phone said to send in his certified death certificate. I sent in the certified copy of his death certificate the next day.

The next month, I got another bill. I called again and a new woman, a supervisor, answered. She said that because I wasn’t on the account that she had to speak with the account holder. I informed her that the account holder was dead but she wouldn’t budge. I had to make an appointment with her so she could speak to the account holder herself in person.

I showed up at the board of public utilities with another death certificate and HIS ASHES IN THE CLEAR BAG that they returned his remains in. I plopped them down on the center of the supervisor’s desk and said when she talked to him to tell him that I loved him for me. The woman went pale, flew out her chair, and called the cops.

When they showed up, she claimed that I had assaulted her.

And yes my dad’s remains were still sitting in the middle of her desk with the death certificate. The cops questioned me as to why I would do that. I told them the story. The supervisor’s boss was called in and they all stepped away from the desk for a private talk. While they were talking, the cops came over to talk to me. They said that I shouldn’t take human remains out in public, but there were no laws that were broken.

I said that I agreed with them that it was extreme, but she insisted to speak with him in person. By then they were done talking between themselves. The supervisor’s boss kissed up to me and got it taken care of.
But the story isn’t over yet! I had to call back a few days later to get utilities back to the house in my name. When the person on the phone saw the address and my name, I was immediately put on hold.

The supervisor’s boss that finally helped me got on the phone. She sucked up to me and waived all of the fees that come with setting up utilities. Just as the call was ending, she informed me that she was again so sorry for the employee’s lack of compassion. She said that the employee was terminated and again, she is so very sorry.” PrincessG66
12. You’ll Stop When You’re Able To Recline Your Seat? I’ll Just Get An Upgrade

“A few years ago, I was on a flight from LA to Singapore (takes 16+ hours).

I’m a tall dude – around 6’3″ (~190cm) – so I don’t fit very well in economy class seats. On most planes, my knees are often very close or right up against the seat in front of me. This makes it impossible for the person in front of me to recline their seat, which usually isn’t a problem once the person in front of me sees how cramped I am in those tiny seats.

However, for this particular flight, the man in front of me was not having it. He tried to recline his seat, but couldn’t because my legs were there. He turns around and sees what’s happening and asks me something along the lines of, ‘Do you mind letting me put my seat back?’
I respond with, ‘I wish I could but I physically can’t. I’ll do my best to give you as much space as I can, but it won’t be much.’ At this point, he starts to get angry and just starts pushing as hard as he can back on his seat.

Needless to say, this was not particularly pleasant for me. I ask him to please stop, and he says, ‘I’ll stop when I can put my seat back.’

I decide I’ll just wait him out; he’ll eventually get tired. After about 10-15 minutes of this, he calls a flight attendant over and proceeds to demand a new seat. The flight attendant tells him there are no available seats and he will have to deal with it.

He demands to speak to the pilot.
So the flight attendant goes up front to talk to the cockpit. Keep in mind that throughout this, he is still pressing with all his might against my knees, with only short breaks to yell at the flight attendant. After a couple of minutes, the co-pilot (he wanted to speak to the pilot and wasn’t happy about this) comes back and tries to explain to the man that he can’t change seats because there are no other coach seats free.

The man continues to demand a seat that is able to recline, give me an upgrade, this is unacceptable, making a scene, etc.

The co-pilot finally gives in and says while looking at the man, ‘Sir, would you like to sit up in business class?’

The man stands up and mutters something similar to, ‘****** finally.’ To which the co-pilot responds, ‘Sir, sit down. I wasn’t talking to you.’ He turns to me and repeats, ‘How would you like a seat in business class?’

I have, to this day, never seen someone as furious as the man as I walked past him to my new business class seat (with free drinks).” earthshaker495
11. Read The Company Policy? You Can Buy Me Dinner Every Day For 8 Weeks

“I work for an office and we have an 8-week busy season with mandatory overtime (12-14hrs/day).

During this time, the company agrees to reimburse us for dinner, up to $13/meal. We just have to submit a claim with our receipts at the end of the busy season.

Food options around my work aren’t great so I usually brought my dinner in from home. But sometimes, I was too tired to cook after a long day so out of the 8 weeks, I purchased maybe 10 meals.

3 of those meals I spent $13.50, going $0.50 over the limit. This resulted in a whopping $1.50 overage which my manager said it was no big deal and that I could include on my expense claim. He signed off on it and everything.
A few days after I submitted my report. Head Office emailed me saying they rejected my expense claim and that I could resubmit after I removed the $1.50 overage.

I wrote back saying my manager was fine with the $1.50 overage and even signed off on it, and they responded by telling me that they do not allow overages under any circumstances, that the $1.50 must be removed or they wouldn’t approve any of my meal expenses. They ended their email with the advice that I should ‘actually read the company policy next time.’

Fine, they were right and I was wrong.

So I decided I’d read the policy very thoroughly before redoing my expense claim.

Yes, the policy clearly stated a $13/maximum on purchased meals. Oh, and what’s this? The policy also allows a $10 per diem for meals you bring from home. I very happily removed the $1.50 overage and added an additional $300 for the 30 meals I brought from home.

I should read the company policy more often!” TheRomper
10. Never Talk To You Again? Have Fun With The Debt Collectors

“I was living with my girlfriend and a roommate, and we split the cost of every bill evenly, even though each bill was in one person’s name.

Well, that was the idea, but I naively ‘helped’ my girlfriend pay her part of the bills (i.e. paid completely for most of them). The rent was in my name, the electricity in my girlfriends’, etc.

I eventually got tired of her crap (arguments, smelly gerbils, not doing chores), and we broke up. It was messy. She took ages to move out, making sure to mooch every penny she could before leaving.

When she left, I immediately started a new electricity account in my name. A week later, I got a letter of confirmation in the mail, but I also received the electricity bill for the last three months my ex was living with us. I opened it without thinking. We couldn’t even pay it if we wanted to because the bill was in her name. I shot her a text:

Me: ‘Hey, you got the electricity bill in the mail.

It’s 120 bucks so come pick up $40 from each of us.’

Ex: ‘Um where’s the other $40? We agreed I wouldn’t pay bills after I move out (as if she did before).’

Me: ‘You were still living here for the time period of the bill.’

Ex: ‘This is garbage, I’m not going to pay a thing. We had an agreement.’

Me: ‘Well… you can come over to get our part, or you can pay it alone.’

Ex: ‘The way I see it, you can either bring the $120 to my place or have fun in the dark lol.’

Me: ‘You got me there!’

At this point, I realized that she doesn’t know I started my own account with the electricity provider.

She thought that by refusing to pay, the provider would cut our lights. It’s a good way to mooch another $40 from us, right? But that’s not quite what happened.
A few weeks later, I received another letter from the elec. company with her name on it. Probably a late payment warning. I sent her a text to tell her, and she responded, “‘Lol why are you so desperate to talk to me.

You know what you have to do :)’

Another letter came in for her. This one was probably late fees. I have to guess because I never opened them. I messaged her and she said, ‘I thought I told you to never talk to me again.’ As you wish, ma’am!

More letters arrived, but from a new address. I Googled the new sender’s address and found that they were debt collectors.

Scary stuff. It’s too bad I couldn’t say a word to her.

Now about two or three months later, I received a phone call from my ex and I’m greeted by,’WHAT THE EFFFF THESE PEOPLE ARE CALLING MY PARENTS’ HOUSE I’VE GOT ALL THESE LATE FEES BAAHHHH DEBT COLLECTORS.” I told her if she wants our part of the bill, she knows what to do 🙂

Realizing that she had no other choice, she caved and came for the money.

My roommate and I didn’t give her a cent toward late fees, and I probably looked so smug giving her my money for the last time.” Alabastre
9. Ask Me What’s On My Screen? I’ll Tell You EVERYTHING That’s On My Screen…

“I received an unsolicited call earlier this morning from a gentleman named Dan. Dan worked for Microsoft Security and was calling to let me know that my computer had been downloading malicious software, and because I was such a loyal customer he would be walking me through the steps to remove the software and fix my computer.

In case you didn’t guess, Dan did not work for Microsoft, my computer was not infected, and he was not going to help me.

Our conversation began:

Dan: ‘Are you near your computer right now?’

Me: ‘Yes, why?’

Dan: ‘I’d like to help you check it for issues.’

Me: ‘Okay, give me a minute.’
At this point, I spend a couple of minutes ‘finding’ my laptop and getting it booted up. Really, it only took about 20 seconds, but Dan didn’t need to know this.

Once I was at my laptop, Dan continued…

Dan: ‘What do you see on your screen right now?’

Me: ‘What was that? (I wanted to make sure I heard his question correctly)’

Dan: ‘What do you see on your screen right now?’

Me: ‘Well, I see my desktop…’

At this point, Dan tried to continue with his script, but I had not told Dan everything that was on my screen, so I continued.

Me: ‘There’s a clock in the bottom left corner, the time says 10:30 AM, the date is December 3rd, 2017, there’s a WiFi signal with full bars, there’s a volume meter but I have it muted right now, there’s a battery indicator showing my laptop is 27% charged.’

Dan tried in vain to interrupt me, but there were still more things to tell him.
Me: ‘There’s an icon called My Computer, an icon called Recycle Bin, an icon called Google Chrome…’

You can see where this is going – I proceeded to read off to Dan each and every icon, shortcut, folder, and file that was currently displayed on my screen.

Dan never got a chance to get a word in edgewise.

Finally, after about 4 or 5 minutes of meticulously letting Dan know exactly what was on my screen, he asked me a question:

Dan: ‘Can you right click on My Computer?’

Me: ‘Sure, no problem. Do you know where that would be located?’

Dan: ‘It should be on your Desktop.’

Me:’ I know, but I can’t find it. Do you remember what it was next to when I described everything to you.?’

Dan: ‘It should be next to Recycle Bin.’

Me: ‘No, Google Chrome is next to the Recycle Bin.’

After a few more minutes, Dan successfully navigated me into the Start Menu to open up a Run box.

Dan: ‘Okay, there should be a field in the Run box. Is it empty?’

Me: ‘No, it has something written already.’

Dan: ‘What does it say?’

Me: ‘The first one says msinfo32, the second one says cmd, the third one says regedit…’

After going through all the items in my Run box history (11-12), Dan let me know that he would need to call me back in a few minutes.

Despite my pleas for help, Dan hung up. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to follow his directions so well?” Source
8. Yell At Me For Our Policy? I’ll Change It – Effective NOW

‘I used to work as an administrator in a secondary school in the US (Grades 9-12) around 10 years ago. We were a school that didn’t have a specific ‘zone’ or neighborhood, so to speak. Some of our students lived 30 or 45 minutes from the school, which made it necessary for us to sometimes conduct business with parents or guardians over the phone as opposed to in person.

One day, I met with a Senior (Grade 12) who was in a class that he and his father had deemed too hard for him, and since they didn’t want it impacting his ability to attend college, asked for him to be changed out of the class. It was early in the semester, and there was plenty of space available in other courses, so I had no problem doing it after a conversation over the phone with his father.

The student was a good guy, and he was totally grateful to me for helping him out. He would now get to enjoy his last year a little more, with one less difficult class to worry about.
The next day, I get a phone call in my office from mom, who is irate. She spends approximately five minutes berating me about changing his schedule. I indicated to her that dad was on the contact list for her son, and he was allowed to make these decisions if he chose to do so.

She is the person who put dad on there several years before.

Evidently, mom put dad on the list before their divorce. She had raised the child over the last several years by herself (according to her), and she should make all of the decisions. I didn’t know this, and the records didn’t reflect it. Since she knew this argument wasn’t going to work, the next objection was against our policy of making decisions over the phone.

The conversation went something like this:
Mom: ‘How do you know for sure it was his dad on the phone? There’s no way you can be sure. I can’t believe you would ever make a decision like this without a parent present. By doing business over the phone, you could be speaking to anyone.’

She continued on and I tried to explain that it is necessary at times to use the phone since parents work in another town and may have to travel an hour or more to get to the school.

Well, she wasn’t buying it.

So finally, I relented. ‘Ma’am, you are right. I will no longer make decisions like this over the phone. I am going to insist parents come in and meet with me in person.’

Mom: ‘Good. Now I need my son to be put back into the class he was in originally.’

Me: ‘Ma’am, I’m sorry. You are going to have to come in and meet with me.

I’m no longer changing schedules over the phone. How do I know you are this student’s mother?’

Mom: ‘I can’t do that. I live 45 minutes from the school, and I work every day.’ It was at this point she dropped all of her objections. 0000001A
7. Not In Compliance? We Will Quit And Get Re-hired Every Time

“I worked for a Medical Transportation company that had a contract with Medicaid.

One of their many rules was that you could not provide any assistance to the patient INSIDE of their house.

One elderly lady had an old house with a very small foyer that you had to climb three steps to get to the main floor. The only other entrance was around back and up two and a half flights of rickety steps to an old deck that opened into a bedroom.

Upstairs. She’s in a wheelchair.

Common sense says take her in the front door, up three stairs and she’s home on the level she lives on.
Medicaid says take her up the outside stairs, dump her in the bedroom upstairs and let her worry about getting down to the living room level.

We ignored their policy and took her in the front door anyway.

A random inspection by a random inspector showed that we were not in compliance.

We appealed, the inspector came out and saw the different options and decided that we had no case for appeal. Take her up the outside stairs.

Nope. From then on, when the driver arrived at her house, he would get her out of the van in the sidewalk, and then get on the radio and tell the boss he quits on the spot!

Now that he was no longer an employee, he was free to assist this lovely person into her front door and up the stairs.

Once finished, he would come back to the van, tell the boss he’d reconsidered, and ask for his job back.

Boss was ALWAYS understanding and took them back, but very carefully noted the 10 to 15-minute break in their employment, to show that the company remained in compliance. This went on for some time amongst multiple employees.

Aftermath: We had contests to see who could have the most dramatic ‘I quit’ scene.

Medicaid noted our activities, but couldn’t put a handle on how to stop it.” *******
6. Change My Review? I’ll Tell The World How Your Company Went Above And Beyond

“A few years ago I bought a new shed/sunroof combination for my garden. It was pretty expensive so I also paid for the company to build it. Knowing me, I would mess up so I was happy to pay for a professional to come to deal with it.

The shed has a roof with asphalt topping, so it looks like very thick sandpaper. The professional builder tacked it in place and that was that. I asked him if no glue would be needed to keep it in place, but obviously, I know nothing and that was a dumb question.
Lo and behold, 6 weeks later a mild storm blew off the entire asphalt topping of the roof.

I called the company only to be told I should have known this would be a temporary roof and these need to be changed every year (can you smell the BS?). I replied it had only been 6 weeks, you need to come fix this. Nope, a storm was the reason for damage, an act of God, no help from them. Well ok, they promised to send a new roll of asphalt so I could replace it myself.

I waited, no asphalt.
I went to their Facebook page to find lots of people complaining about similar stuff. I wrote a review warning people to not buy their expensive sheds as they get built wrong and any damage resulting from this does not get resolved by them what so ever (mind you this shed was over a 1000 euros)!

A half an hour later, I get a phone call from the said company.

They tell me they will come the next day to put on expensive shingles to make up for the damage, at their own cost. BUT I do have to change my review. I waited for them to come to fix it, and they held to their promise. So did I.

I wrote on their page how they came and fixed my roof, even exchanged the material for a much more expensive solution, the very next day, at THEIR OWN COST! Needless to say, this caused a sh*tstorm of customers demanding the same solution.

You’re welcome, assh*les.” twinsisterjoyce
5. Won’t Take Me Off The Lease? I’ll Show Up Because I Live Here

“This happened about 10 years ago. I was dating this girl for a year and things were going pretty well. Both of the leases on our separate apartments were coming up for renewal and we decided to get a place together so our relationship would go to the next level and we’d also save a good bit of money.

At the time I could really see myself with this girl.

So, we sign a year lease on a new place and for the first four months or so things are great. Then our relationship starts to fall apart. Not assigning blame here, you know how it is. It just didn’t work out. The bummer though was she started to get pretty nasty to me and after a few really ugly fights I decided to move out in a hurry.

I got a cheap place across town and moved out on a Saturday because I just couldn’t bear it anymore.
So after about a week, I cool off enough to call her and ask her to get a new roommate and take me off the lease. She says no, I don’t have time to get a new roomie and I can’t afford the place alone. So, for the next two weeks, I find two mutual friends willing to move in.

She rejects them for stupid reasons and hasn’t lifted a finger to find a suitable roommate. It dawns on me that she intends to live in this place alone for the next 8 months while I pay half the rent and half the utilities. **** no. At this point I’m pissed. I am now paying two leases and utilities and so on. I got some money in the bank so I’m not in danger but I can’t afford to do this for long, and it just isn’t reasonable.

I had found out during our week without contact that she had already started dating another guy. I know that is super quick (a few days from our breakup) but I have no evidence she ever cheated so no big deal. However, I did know that my ex was insatiable and we had *** every morning we were together like clockwork. She had to get out of the house to make work by about 8:45 AM so we’d set aside an hour for ‘us’ time at 7:45 AM or so every morning (our relationship definitely had its positive aspects).

So, anyway, I hatch a plan to get out of the lease.
So, the next morning I get to our old place about 7:45 AM, and wait in my truck until 7:50 AM figuring I knew her well enough to know it was good timing. Our place was a studio and the bed (our old bed) was across from the front door, and to the right was a little kitchen/dining area.

So I turn the key and open the door as fast as possible and I was not disappointed, my ex was riding this guy and I make eye contact with him lol. I’ll never forget the look of shock maybe mixed with shame on his face. She rolls off him and pulls the covers up over them. They are both naked.
‘Don’t mind me,’ I say and I go into the cupboard, get some of the Lucky Charms that I bought that is still in there.

I pour a bowl, add some milk, and start chowing down, ignoring them.

The dude can’t move because his clothes aren’t nearby. My ex is like, ‘Get the **** out of here.’ And I say, ‘I’m still on this lease, this is my place, but you go ahead, don’t let me interrupt you.’ She starts screaming at me, curses me out, throws a couple of shoes at me (misses) and basically has a meltdown from the bed while I calmly eat my cereal for about 15 minutes.

Then I say, ‘Oh will you look at the time, I gotta get to work.’ The dude didn’t move an inch or open his mouth.
The next day I open the door at 7:40 AM this time. She and her new boy are awake and dressed. I say, ‘Oh good morning, I have bagels!’ with a totally fake, cheery smile. I put the bag of bagels and cream cheese on the counter and say, ‘I’m just gonna get a shower real quick.’ She is calmer this time but starts swearing.

She’s gone when I get out of the shower, so I make a bagel and head out myself.

I show up again at about 8 PM with some Chipotle. They are sitting on the bed watching TV. I sit at the counter on a bar stool, start tearing into my burrito and start chatting like I’m their best friend. ‘So what are we watching tonight? Oh, awesome, I haven’t seen that show in years, cool.’ I stay for about 30 minutes, eating my burrito and then asking the guy stupid questions, just being super annoying.

I recognize him from her friend group but I honestly don’t know his name. He seems super nervous and doesn’t say much. My ex is really pissed and is fuming.
The third morning I show up at 7:45 AM. They aren’t there. I take a shower, eat some cereal, and leave a polite note about how I’m sorry I missed them and I’ll see them tonight.

That day at work, I got a bunch of faxes from my ex requesting my signature on a new lease on the apartment, as well as signatures canceling our power, water, cable, and internet bills.

I really enjoyed signing all those and faxing them back. I never saw or heard from either of them again.” analogrevenge
4. Disrepesct My Gender Identity? I’ll Disrespect This Neighborhood

“I’m transgender, male to female, 23, and I was born and raised in Tennessee where they’re not so LGBT friendly. Neither are my neighbors. Tennessee refuses to let me change my gender. Tennessee also has laws prohibiting women from going topless.

Now, first off I will not post pictures for science. Second, I definitely have *****. For all intents and purposes, when I go out jogging I pass as a woman. Someone recently outed me to my neighbors, and they have replied with several nasty letters and other such stuff, calling me a gay man and other bigoted garbage.
So my revenge was to jog around the neighborhood, topless.

I don’t see the problem – they’re calling me a man, the state is calling me a man, walking around topless is allowed for men. But see, I win, because now they’ve called the cops saying a woman is running around topless in their neighborhood, oh God cover the children’s eyes ***** are evil. Suddenly, I’m a woman. Nice logic you got there.

Aaaannnddd then I got a call from the cops, and they wanted to talk to me.

This whole thing was actually kinda obnoxious I prefer a sports bra to hold them in place.
In the end, I talked to a lawyer, who thought it was hysterical, and we talked to the cops, who also thought it was hysterical, and we all agreed I wouldn’t do it again. Apparently, it technically is against the law, somehow, though my lawyer said he was sure the charges would be dropped.

I decided not to fight it, because honestly, I didn’t want to end up being held in a men’s prison. A couple of my neighbors actually got my point, surprisingly, and I’ve made a couple of friends.” toplessthrowaway1232
3. Won’t Change Your Number? I’ll Re-direct Your Patients

“This happened a few months ago but the problem had been going on for years.

Every other month, I would get a text message from someone asking for a doctor or to make an appointment.

I started off immediately informing them they’ve got the wrong number. Hey, it happens.

When it started happening more frequently, I dealt with the minor annoyance by trying to have some fun.

‘Is Dr. Lee available?’

Me: ‘There’s no Dr. Lee here. Only Dr. Wong. Dr. Wong Num Ber.’

It was funny until the volume of messages started increasing and I got annoyed.

A quick Google search led me to the clinic’s page.

Their number was indeed easily mistakable for mine. Theirs ends with ‘-013’ and mine with ‘-073’. And the font used certainly made it worse.
I called the clinic to inform them of this problem and that they needed to do something about it. Change the font, spell the numbers out, or even change their number. I just wanted the messages to stop. The lady just brushed me off and said there was nothing she could do.

I asked to speak to someone in charge but was denied. She told me to change my number or just ‘deal with it’.

So here comes the part where I dealt with it.

After an odd month of peace, I received several messages over a week asking to make an appointment.

‘Hi, I would like to make an appointment please.’

Me: ‘Sure. The next available slot is next Friday at 10.

Would that work for you?’

I made very sure never to claim that I represented the clinic. If anyone asked for a specific doctor, I would say there is no such person here, and if they did ask for the clinic I’d inform them they got the wrong number.

Basically, I had myself covered and I tried to have everyone’s appointment at the same time.
When Friday came around, I received several angry replies from those people and a call from the clinic.

The messages went generally like this: ‘You’re a terrible person! Why would you do this to waste my time? Why did you pretend to be the clinic?’

Me: ‘I’m sorry ma’am but I run a PC repair service (except I don’t take appointments via SMS nor is my personal number listed). I was expecting you at 10 but you didn’t show. If you looked at your message you never asked if I was the clinic and I never claimed to be.’

(And the call went like this.

CL: clinic lady)

CL: ‘Hi, who is this? Why did you pretend to be us and arranged for all these appointments?’

Me: ‘I called you months ago letting you know about this but you told me to deal with it. So I set appointments up for them to see me. It’s not my fault they showed up at your door. Maybe you should change your phone number. I hang up.’

Sure I felt a little bad I made those people travel to the clinic but I’ve since stopped receiving messages from random people and after checking on the clinic’s site, they now have an online appointment making system.” blackhart_
2. Write A Letter To Santa Claus? I’ll Pen A Note You’ll Never Forget

“I believe there are two types of middle school teachers in the world: those who teach because they love children, and those who teach because they positively loathe them.

Ms. G was definitively the latter. She held her students in contempt and I returned the sentiment in spades. She made my fifth grade English and Composition class a misery for me and many others. She was mistrustful (like when she assigned us all an Agatha Christie novel, she tore the last chapter out of every single school copy of the book she issued to ensure we wouldn’t read ahead — I was appalled), condescending (in spite of it being an honors class she would speak down to us in a provokingly sing-song, syrupy voice), and, as you might imagine, a real stickler for the rules.

Come December, she had a special assignment for us: write a letter to Santa Claus. I took issue with this because: a) I was one of two Jewish kids in my middle school, and b) I was not six years old.

Normally, I kept my head down, but this, I mean come on. I approached her as the class ended. It was an exercise in practicing letter-writing composition, yeah, I got that.

Couldn’t I write a letter to someone else? Anyone else? Please?

‘Ah ah aaaaah, Queenie, the assignment is to write a letter to Saaanta Claus! That is who you will be writing to! No ifs, ands, or buts!’

Alright Lady, Santa Claus it is.

This is the letter I handed in:

‘Santa:

I have Rudolph. If you ever want to see him alive again, bring 2 bags full of unmarked toys to the corner of Main and Fairmount at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

No cops. No elves. Deliver the goods at midnight or I’ll be eating venison through the new year.
Sincerely, X’

Ms. G was furious at the urgent parent/teacher conference that was called the following day. My father’s reaction didn’t help. When the Vice Principal handed him the letter he instantly burst out laughing.

Ms. G was angry ugly crying when she demanded that I either needed to go to therapy or Girl Scouts.

To this day I have zero idea why those were the two options. Between the cookies and being booted out of honors English, I regret nothing. CalamityQueenie
1. Act Like A Bully? I’ll Wipe Out Your Computer

“I was carrying extremely powerful rare earth magnets (165 lb pull force) for work in my backpack. They were wrapped in 8 inches of bubble wrap to prevent them from getting too close to anything.

This guy pushed me out of the way hard as I was sitting down and then proceeded to give me a nasty look like, ‘do you want to fight about it?’ My options were to fight him, start an argument that would not get my seat back unless I picked him up, or OTHER. I wasn’t willing to start a fight on a full subway car or anywhere else.

I just couldn’t let it go. Not with these awesome magnets in my backpack ready for a little experiment!
Slowly, I undid the bubble wrap and put it next to the MacBook he was working on and the satchel with his wallet and phone. I kept moving it around subtly. After a few minutes, his screen went out with a very bright flash. I don’t know what happened to his credit cards or cell phone.

He kept trying to reboot it but it was not responding at all.

I didn’t know if it would actually do anything. I just really hate rude people on the subway. Luckily his computer didn’t fly up and stick to my backpack.
Now for the doubters… If you stack six of these magnets you have 3-4 times the force of a single magnet. They have small Teflon spacers between them so you can separate them when you need them.

These slightly reduce their combined force. At 8-10 inches with bubble wrap, there is very little magnetic force as their strength decreases exponentially with distance. However, I am still careful not to put my cell phone or wallet near them. I opened the bubble wrap at the bottom of the stack and then closed my backpack with the end of the stack right against the inside canvas of my backpack.

I was surprised it worked at a distance of about 6 inches. As I said, I was careful because I did not want it to ‘grab’ the computer. Nothing happened for a while but it absolutely took the computer out like an EMP had gone off. Maybe it had to wait until the HDD was active. If it warped the platter and pulled it into the read/write arm it would scratch out of the platter.

I looked it up yesterday and the HDD on a MacBook Pro is on the side I was standing on.

Will it teach him a lesson? Probably not, but I don’t care; I made his life temporarily suck without causing bodily harm.’ anonymous
Yikes. These are some pretty passive aggressive moves! Some of which will probably never be found out or traced back to the doer! Have you ever pulled an act of sneaky revenge? Have you ever complied maliciously to a person’s request? Tell us everything.