People Share Their Stories Of Shameless Revenge

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If someone grinds your gears, man, sometimes you just wanna get ’em back, and get ’em good. When they hit you where it hurts like your job, inheritance or significant other, sometimes you just don’t have a choice. These aren’t reasonable people, after all. They are shameless in their quest to get what they want and will do whatever it takes to suit themselves. If they were normal, they probably wouldn’t have pulled a winner move in the first place like ask for proof of a recently deceased family member or ride your tail while already speeding. No these people are next level bold, and they are begging to be taught a lesson in a language they can understand.

And that’s what they’ll get. A returned favor of shameless revenge that they had coming. These people wanted to play with fire, so they will get burned and charred, tenfold. There’s nothing short of justified payback in the following stories. In fact, you might find yourself hooting and hollering for how these tales pan out. Or you might roll your eyes or know exactly what it feels like to have a snack thief.

Read on for some brazen moves that warranted equally brazen revenge, guaranteed to bring our your inner cheerleader!

18. Prove I’m Going To A Funeral? Ok There

“I’ll start off by saying, I’m not really one for starting a conflict, but I had one teacher in college who really liked to push my buttons.
Her class was specific for my major, but she was not one of my regular professors.

So pretty much I would only have this one class with her, which I needed in order to continue on with what I was studying. In saying that I was one of the few that took the class, “not in her major.” So she sat us in the back, and ultimately treated us like we weren’t going to take the class seriously, so she gave more attention to her students that sat upfront.

And I get it, the professors that I had for my major were very friendly with us and would joke around and whatnot.
But never had I had a teacher that would blatantly single out students the way she did to us in the back. I won’t go into all the details in this story, but a lot had to do with us getting bad grades or she forgot to email us assignments, to which point she would laugh and just say oops or refuse to help us.

It was very frustrating.

So, what started her big issue with me is one of my examples above. She emailed “her students” after class one day that there was going to be a chance for extra credit that night if we went to a specific seminar on campus.

I never received this email. I found out about it through another student in the class asking me if I was going to go.

Clearly confused, they forwarded me the email and after making sure I did not receive it, I checked with the other people in the back, none of which received it either. Thinking it was a mistake, we all ended up going because who couldn’t use some extra credit. After the seminar (which didn’t have much to do with the class at all) our professor saw us and approached us to ask why we were here.

I told her about the email and even though we didn’t get it, we still wanted to come for the extra credit.
She laughed it off and said she must have forgotten us but could not give us the extra credit because we needed to reply back to the email to let her know we were going beforehand, for ya know, reasons…So simple to say, that wasn’t fair and despite our protests, she just said sorry and walked away.

Well, the next day I marched my *** up to the dean of our major’s office and explained the situation. We got the extra credit.

So that was the whole issue that started a lot of issues, and it got much worse. Probably a few weeks after this event she came into class, in tears, and promptly just told us to read from the text book while she sobbed at her desk.

I’m human, I was concerned, but she had several students around her desk trying to console her. After a bit, she pulled it together and she sat at the edge of her desk and started to honestly vent about what was happening in her personal life at that moment. Fine I get it, life is hard, but after an hour of this with honestly nobody really responding to what she was saying, it was a little ridiculous.

Cancel class and go home if you have to. But this was soon not limited to just that class. From then forward the first half of almost every class was just her talking with us about anything from her divorce, her new marriage, her children’s issues, up to and including her *** life.
That was where I drew the line one day. She came in and in exclusive detail told us the promiscuous night she had before.

No, I’m not paying as much money as I am for college to hear this. So that day again, I went up to the dean’s office along with several other students (including some of “her own.)

Well this situation was a little more serious, and we were asked to speak in front of a few more faculty, including the president of the school. And honestly, I was proud of myself for standing up for the class.

We had spoken to a lot of our classmates and they too were confused by not only why we were no longer actually being taught, but she did draw a line with that story and made them uncomfortable.

Our teacher after that had missed a few days, only sending us a few emails about required reading. When she returned she sat on the edge of the desk again, facing us and wanted to address what had happened.

She was told by the school that she stepped out of line and that she would no longer be able to dive into her personal life the way that she had. She then asked the people that felt uncomfortable to raise their hands so that she could address them. No one raised their hands, it was none of her business and at this point we had wasted half the class AGAIN because she went into more details about other stuff.

It was later that day that a few of us (who did go to the dean) was at the cafeteria for lunch when she marched over and began, and this is no exaggeration, yell at us because of what we did. Tears were streaming down her face as she pointed at me. She said she couldn’t get of bed for days and then called me a homophobe (the *** story had been about her and her wife’s night.

A major side note I couldn’t have cared less about that detail. It could’ve been about her and a guy. **** two, three, four people and I still would’ve gone to the dean.

It was unprofessional and gross.) Again she was out of line, but it wasn’t I who went to the dean, it was another teacher that saw this. This went full circle a few times.

But honestly, it was revealed that they weren’t going to fire her and I had a few weeks left and then I wouldn’t have to sit in her class again. I was over it, I was passing her class, and I was ready to move on.

Unfortunately a week or so later, my aunt passed away unexpectantly. My mom called me that morning and told me. To put this in perspective, it hadn’t been a good year on my mom’s side for things of this nature.

This was the third big thing to happen, and this particular time was while my grandmother was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack. It was all very scary and sudden and I needed to get home. My college was in state but I was about a six-hour drive so I wanted to take a few days to be with my family. I had asked a few of my professors and they all were very accommodating, except I can let you guess which one…when it came time to ask this particular professor she played this fake sympathy card and put a hand on my shoulder.

At this point, we had a date of the funeral and I would only miss one of her classes. She gave me some assigned reading to do and my homework she told me to turn in the next day (which was like four days earlier than if I had been to class, but whatever.) I thanked her, but as I left and was walking down the hallway she caught up to me and told me she forgot to mention that she needed some proof that I was going to a funeral.

And the example she gave me? The death certificate of my aunt.
Ha so here is where the fun begins!

I drove home that night, emailed her my homework and honestly wanted to email her the “proof” so I didn’t have to worry about her when I was home. Come to find out, sometimes death certificates aren’t readily available, nor should anyone have to ask their grieving grandmother for one.

I told my mom about it and she was shocked, but she didn’t have any information about it. So I emailed my professor, told her the situation and she replied back that since it had been several days, the law requires one to be sent out within like 72 hours or something.

To which I replied, that even if that was true, it still meant that I had to ask my grandmom for it and I did not want to do that.

Her reply and this is the word for word because I remember it, ‘I need proof, so you’ll need to ask someone to see it. You’re aunt would think that was appropriate I’m sure.’ She then gave me her cell number and said I could text it to her instead of scanning because she would make that accommodation for me.

Well turns out, I did ask my grandmom, and it sucked.

But she didn’t have it, or she didn’t see it.

And I was not going to snoop or have her go through the piles of papers to find it. So I didn’t care, **** this teacher. Would she really fail me for missing one class? So the day of the funeral came and I got a text from her. She said she hadn’t received anything from me (including my homework, which in the original email she acknowledged she had gotten.) And that if I did not send it, she would fail me in the super-secret assignment that we were going to have that day and it was worth like 25% of my grade.

I was in no mood to argue, I was surrounded by my huge family, many of whom I rarely see (and it sucked that it was for a funeral.) But in a last-ditch effort, I took a picture of the program I was holding which had my aunt’s name on the front, with her death date, and today’s date of the service. It took several minutes for her to respond, to which she then accused me of making a fake program to send her (since it was only one page folded in half…) For ***s* sake, I then did something that to this day I do not regret.

I turned around and took a picture of my aunt, lying in her casket. Now, I wasn’t super close, it wasn’t zoomed in or anything. But it was a clear picture of a dead person. And had my aunt been alive she would’ve laughed and flipped her off in the picture. I sent that picture with a simple text saying, that if that wasn’t proof enough, I could get a closer shot.

Never did hear anything back from her that day, but the fun did not stop there. I have a big family, a very close big family. And word kinda traveled about my situation.

I think by the end of the day there was a total of 37 of them that called both this professor, dean, and president to inform them what they thought of the situation. One of which was from my grandmother that was as close to a saint as you could get, calling my teacher a ***** on her voicemail.

I returned to school and almost immediately was asked to have a meeting with this teacher, my other teachers, and the dean. I explained the situation from the beginning, not just the funeral, but the issues after the seminar, the story, the cafeteria encounter, another fun one where this teacher intentionally got me a parking ticket on campus and then laughed about it.

The funeral story was a hit because the president arrived for that one, and I had all the emails, texts, and phone logs to prove it.

The teacher denied a lot of it, saying she does this to all of the students because a lot like to inflict bad karma onto themselves by lying about going to a funeral. Needless to say, she was made to take a “leave of absence,” but ultimately not fired for some reason.

It didn’t matter at that point, I passed the class and got the satisfaction of the remaining years at school she would make an abrupt turn in the hallway if she ever saw me walking down it.

Had another fun encounter too when she was put on an event I was helping to run, and she visibly was shaking when she had to stand next to me and speak.” AsleepIllustrator

17. Ride My Tail Speeding? Guess You Were Going Too Fast To Notice The Cop Car

“I was driving home from a get-together, and was going 65-67km/h (41mph) in a 60 (37mph) zone. Where I’m from the police almost never pull you over if you’re going 10 or less over, but will definitely pull you over for anything over that.

All was well until I got closer to my area. It’s less city-like and more rural with the roads alternating between single and double lanes. I’m on a single lane speeding 10 (6mph) over when a pickup truck in my rearview caught my attention.

They were going a tad bit faster when they caught up to me and promptly braked a meter behind me. I was like okay I’ll speed up to 70 (43mph), no big deal but they continued to tailgate me.

Upon closer inspection, I could see the mug of a very angry woman who had no understanding of personal space.
What ensued was a full 5 minutes of them completely obscuring my rearview mirror with how close they were.

I was tired and kind of hungover, so I really was not in the mood to be worrying about a potential car accident thanks to her driving. I was going to pull over to let her go around when Waze gave me a heads up that a police officer was reported up ahead.

THIS was when I decided I’m gonna dole out some karma. I slowly dropped my speed from 70 (43mph) to 60 (37mph), now AT the speed limit. This woman was FURIOUS.
Why she just didn’t pass me, I’ll never know – but she was literally going slightly over the mid-line, yelling to herself in my rearview, flashing her full brights in a weird show offish way to get me to go faster.

I did this for another min before Waze showed the cop was less than a km (0.6 miles) away. I put on my turn signal, very slowly pulled over, and watched this woman flipped me the bird as she whipped past me disappearing over the hill now going WAY faster than 10km/h over.

I continued on my way, getting up to 70km/h (43mph) when I cleared the hill to see flashing lights ahead.

Jackpot. I drove with anticipation until I got close enough to confirm it was my friend from earlier.

Not wanting to miss out on hitting her with our new secret greeting, I dropped down to 60km/h (37mph), peered over and flashed the bird back at her.

I hope you enjoy the ticket Karen.” rayrayrex

16. What Are We Gonna Do About It You Ask? We’ll Show You

“I work as a train driver, I drive smaller trains mostly out in the countryside and people are generally nice and well behaved.

But ofc, there are also the alcoholics, drug addicts and general weirdos that uses public transport, and some people that just live to be a pain in the a**.
This was a few years ago, we were traveling in the late afternoon and my conductor (let’s say C) storms into the driver’s cabin, angry and annoyed, and tells me:

C: we have 2 rude good-for-nothing guys onboard and they’re such ******!

Me: *****************What did they do??

C: They have no tickets, refuse to pay, just laughs up in my face and are saying: What’re you gonna do about it?

Me: What the heck? Should I help you throw them off at the next stop?

C: We can’t because they’re just traveling 1 station, so they’re getting off at the next stop! God **** smug guys with their “what’re you gonna do about it?”!

So we’re both angry, I let the conductor rant and let off some steam.

The next stop comes and the guys get off, the conductor angrily gestures at them “that’s them, ******…”. We continue the short remaining journey and have a break at the end station, some hours later the train then goes back.

Since it’s on the countryside and it’s a late weekend evening, the train is almost empty on the way back. The conductor knows where every passenger onboard is getting off and she’s up at front with me, chatting and all is fine again.

Until…

…we approach the station where we let those guys off. We see 2 people standing there. It.is.them. My conductor beside me shines up like a God **** sun.
She says, with the biggest smile on her face: Do not stop. And I’m just laughing, slowing down the train, not stopping though. When we pass them my conductor opens the window, waves and says loud and happily: THIS IS WHAT I’M GONNA DO ABOUT IT!

The guys are just staring at her with their jaws on the ground when we drive past them.

We laugh. All the way to our home station.

We were the last train for the day.” Plywood

15. Steal My Inheritance Money? I Owe You Nothing

“My parents were both killed in a hit and run car accident when I was ten. My dad was only 39 and my mom 35. Neither of them had relatives who could take me in.
We lived in a really small, church-going town where everyone knew one another.

My dad had been the heir to a small fortune and so didn’t really have to work. He didn’t like the big city, so he and my mom decided to move to a small town where he could have an antique store. My mom was into collecting antiques.

I would have had to go the orphanage route when they died, but this couple from the church, who I will call Mr.

and Mrs. Banks, made this big to-do in church about how “a little girl needs a loving home, and God has given us this joyous task of bringing her up in our home and hearts.” It’s been a long time and I don’t remember if those were Mrs.
Banks’ exact words, but they were something cringe-worthy like that.

The Banks had their own daughter “Kitty” who was a year older than me.

That should have meant we would be super good friends, but Kitty had her own thing going and practically ignored me. She was a holier than thou type. The Banks received a stipend from the state to take care of me, but they also received checks every month from my dad’s estate, which was supposed to take care of me until I was eighteen. When I did turn eighteen, I would receive full control of my inheritance.

The Banks weren’t exactly cruel to me, but in private it was clear they were just using me to build up their reputation in town.
In front of other people, they’d fawn over me in a sick, cotton candy fashion that made me uncomfortable. They’d also make Kitty be nice to me in public, which she resented.

The Banks would also put on a big show whenever social workers came to check up on me.

They’d coach me before the lady would come, and tell me to praise how godly and wonderful they were.

After the social worker left, they’d go right back to ignoring me and spending my dad’s money on crap on the internet or on trips.

It was clear to me even as a tween and teen that the Banks were only using some of my endowment, both from the state and from my trust, to take care of me.

The rest, they spent on themselves. As I grew older I could see that my foster parents would pretend as though they had great business acumen and that’s why they had more money and could buy a new Volvo (where I’m from, a new Volvo is an event) and take a trip to New York and buy fancy clothes for Kitty. When I was seventeen I noticed that my foster parents were stockpiling away my trust fund money to pay for Kitty’s tuition to college.

Throughout this time, the Banks would never outright say so, but would heavily imply that I “owed them” and that once I got control of my inheritance, that I should be Godly and generous and give them some material compensation for “all the work” they did to raise me.
I think they already got lots of material, especially since Mrs. Banks practically stole all of my mom’s antiques from her store and kept them for herself, gave them to Kitty, or to her other relatives.

One thing my mom never kept at her store was an extremely expensive, ********** fine china set, absolutely complete and worth tens of thousands of dollars. Not a replica, but the real deal. So real, Napoleon Bonaparte himself might well have eaten a steak off those plates. Probably not, but you get the point. It was my china set of course, but Mrs. Banks thought I was an idiot and didn’t know that.

She would always talk about how “this china set will go to Kitty on her wedding day.”

Mrs. Banks assumed that since I always dressed like a tomboy, I didn’t care about all my mom’s antiques that Mrs. Banks stole or gave away, that I just didn’t care about the china set.

When I was a kid, my mom told me that things were things, and not to obsess over them.

So, having the frou-frou china set for me wasn’t an issue. What WAS an issue was Mrs. Banks acting like it was hers to give away.

Wrong, lady.

So, once Kitty went off to college thanks to MY biological mom and dad’s money, I had to make my own plans.
I had always done well in school and had actually gotten a partial scholarship to attend school out of state.

The rest, I could easily pay for with my inheritance, which I would very soon have control of.

Per usual, Mr. and Mrs. Banks were haranguing me about how I owed them compensation and since I was going to be rich soon I ought to share the wealth.

I figured that over the past seven years they probably stole or misappropriated more than two hundred thousand dollars of my parents’ money, to say nothing of the state money they misused.

I think they more than shared the wealth.
I never promised anything, I just smiled and kept a tally of every single bank statement (I got them quarterly) that my trust issued over the years. The Banks family never shared them with me of course but when I asked the actual Bank for a rundown, they were more than happy to oblige.

I also wrote down every single major purchase my foster parents clearly made over the past seven years with money that was clearly beyond their means as a housewife and an insurance salesman.

Things such as a $40,000 car for cash, a used $20,000 car for cash that they gave to Kitty, trips to Hawaii, New York, cash gifts to the church that made them look super generous at my deceased parents’ expense… I kept it all in a nice, three-ring binder.
I already arranged my travel to my new campus. I didn’t have much stuff at the Banks’ house anyway and had zero intention of coming back, at least to their home.

The Banks knew I was leaving but didn’t bother seeing me off, because they assumed I’d come back to “give them their due.”

I waited for our church’s yearly antique sale extravaganza, set to begin in three days.

Per usual, the Banks donated all sorts of random stuff, many of it knick-knacks that used to belong to my mom and technically belonged to me. They weren’t shy about giving away my stuff and taking credit for it.

While Mr. and Mrs. Banks were on one of their shopping sprees with my parents’ money and away from their house, I boxed up the china set and brought it to church.

I told the rummage sale committee that Mrs. Banks wanted to donate the priceless antiques for sale, all benefits to go to the church.

“This donation is made in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Banks.”

I was being fair.

If Mrs. Banks was really so godly, she would be delighted that such a wonderful donation be made in her name.

Sadly, I knew she’d go the other way because she was faker than implants.
The ladies were flabbergasted, especially when I told them the appraisal of the set’s value. I also told them that if they needed proof of ownership and right to sell, to contact the number of a certain attorney in New York.

They thanked me profusely and praised the Lord Jesus for Mrs. Banks’ generosity. This would be the most expensive item in their sales history. Everyone knew no one could afford to buy the set outright, but everyone would love to buy the pieces piecemeal.

Like, “I got a cup and saucer,” or “I got one of the chargers,” “I got an egg cup…”

The Banks were supposed to work the sale the second day and I wasn’t there.

What I did hear was that my foster mom went ballistic when she saw “her” china set for sale and that it was a huge hit, and ladies from all over the county had bought pieces of it, and it raised SO much money for the church!

My foster mom threw a tantrum and said that I had stolen the set from her house.

The ladies at the church explained that I had made the donation in HER name, and she was getting credit for the donation to the church.

My foster mom was practically yanking her hair out, according to what I heard later.
She was trying to track down who had bought pieces and trying to get them back. Of course, she was unsuccessful.

What she WAS successful in was looking like a Grade A *********.

The entire church thought she was selfish and materialistic and acting very ungodly, especially the way she cursed her foster daughter.

A week later my foster parents received a package by registered mail from me and my attorney. It contained my binder where I showed my bank statements and also a list of all their spending extravagances. It also contained a warning from my attorney that should they ever try to contact me again for money, that they will receive a BILL and a court date.
That was that.

Ten years later, I work as a third-grade teacher. I’m married to an accountant, and we have a three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter.

Kitty ended up working through college, and as we’ve gotten older, we’ve reconnected.

She apologized for the way she acted when we were kids. We’re friends now, and see each other multiple times a year, often just for lunch. She’s an elementary school teacher, too, and married to an engineer.

She has a four-year-old daughter. Both of our older kids play together when our families meet.

We both have our OWN wedding china.
She has gone to a lot of therapy due to her toxic parents, she tells me.

As for her parents?

They still live in their small town because they’re too broke to move.

Their reputation is of being “that couple who drove both their children away and stole money from that poor little girl whose parents died, and they tried to steal money from Jesus when they whined about getting their baroque china back.

I hope your Volvo was worth it, ******.” FormalYogaPants

14. Steal My Mail? I’ll Catch You Purple Handed

“What’s better than calling the cops on your (sweet little old) neighbor’s drug-addicted grandson for stealing your Amazon package?

In July, my elderly neighbor had her grandson, and pregnant girlfriend, move-in ‘to help them out.’ She is a widowed lady in her seventies. Babbles a lot, but sweet.

I have a soft spot for her.

Years ago, she cornered me as I was leaving to take my dog on a walk. My dog was unhappily pacing waiting for the walk while we listened to her stories. He peed on her during the story; she is so senile she didn’t notice.

Just a few days later, I am mowing my backyard and the grandson walks past my house carrying an Amazon envelope. Weird.

An hour later, the sweet little old lady comes over. With the envelope her grandson had. “This was in my landscaping.”

I totally forgot I ordered my kids the movie ‘Leap.’

See, I am a criminal defense attorney.
Probably the only one this lady knows. If I call the cops, my neighbor will try to hire me. It will get weird. She is so sweet. I will be a witness.

He is on probation, so he will sit in jail for a while. This will totally make me look like a snitch to my own clients in that same jail who are thieves, addicts, and burglars. It’s bad personally and professionally. And it’s not the biggest deal.

So I filled up an Amazon box with “purple rain powder” that was ordered to my office. A dry dye that gets darker and spreads when it comes into contact with your sweat or any kind of moisture, that lasts a week on your skin.

Think leaking pen, times fifty.

Why? I want to shame him, and it won’t come back on me. He’s not gonna call the cops for stealing my ***. He isn’t gonna tell his grandma he stole from me. And if it makes a mess in her house, it’s still cheaper for her then hiring a lawyer and paying her grandson’s court costs and fines.

Yep, the package was gone in 20 minutes.

I walk past the home; screams of anger at the pregnant girlfriend, ‘This *** won’t come off,’ ‘It’s all over my grandma’s house.’ Priceless.

The following day I give him the ‘head no'” as he smokes a cigarette in a hoody in July.
He runs inside.

Then I taught my kids to yell, ‘Smurf,” when we walk past.

No snitching, just shame.” Saltyballs2020

13. Eat A Tired New Mom’s Snacks? It’s Over Buster

“A couple of things about me that made it really suck to have a food thief:

-I have a lot of food allergies, so I can’t just get lunch at the cafeteria or at a nearby restaurant

-I have a new baby, who I’m breastfeeding, and who I pump for when I’m at work.

Do you know how hungry pregnant people are? Yeah, the caloric requirement for breastfeeding is 100-200 calories higher. I am always hungry.

-Because I have a new baby, half the time I don’t manage to show up at work with lunch. I either run out of time to pack one or if I did remember, I leave it on the counter.

My solution to all of this was to leave lots of nonperishable snacks in my office.

(And also a lot of candy, because I also have a three-year-old and therefore work is the only place I can shovel Skittles into my mouth without a little hand extending into my field of vision and a little voice saying ‘pwease?’) Snacks that were specifically free of my allergens. Some of which were specialty foods because of this. The type of specialty food that just doesn’t taste as good as food that contains the allergen, and also costs twice as much.

Because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now. I deserve nice things.

So, because I’m not getting a lot of sleep right now, when I first came back from maternity leave, assembled my snack hoard, and started having things go missing, I genuinely thought I was just losing my mind. Boxes of candy were running out faster than I thought I was eating them. I’d come in in the morning and things wouldn’t be where I’d left them.

At one point I brought a bag of chips to work, folded the rim of the bag down so I wasn’t plunging my arm elbow-deep into a grease pit, and then put a bag clip on it when I went home, and when I came in the next morning the bag was unrolled and re-clipped.
I went, ‘Wow, I must be more tired than I thought,’ rolled the bag back down, and the next morning it was unrolled again.

Just little things like that, almost every day, that made me go “wow, the post-baby brain is worse than I thought!”

And then. And then! Then I got the flu. I got the flu, and I was out for a whole week. Left behind at the office was an almost-full box of Enjoy Life cookies, which are not enjoyable but are free of all major allergens, and are also $5 a box for, like, 12 sad little sand pies with some cinnamon on top.

I ate one row of these cookies. And then I was out of the office for a week. For one week, I was not eating any of my snack hoard.

But someone else was. Because I came back to work, opened my box of cookies, and found one. There was one single, solitary cookie left.

And, on further examination, the one box of candy that had been opened was nowhere to be found, and on top of that, the thief had done me the courtesy of opening a new box for me, except that they actually followed the “push here to open” instructions instead of just ripping one end of the box open like I do, which they should **** well know at this point because by this time they’d been stealing from me for two ******* months.

The combination of these two things- the sheer freaking audacity it takes to open a new box so you can continue stealing from someone, on top of the consumption of almost a whole box of specialty cookies that aren’t even GOOD- enraged me enough that, after going to my boss and getting some vague promises about checking if the security cameras in my wing of the building are functional or not (what??) I went straight to Amazon and ordered myself a nanny cam.

Not for my baby. For my snack hoard.

Conveniently, it arrived the day before Valentine’s day. I set it up on top of a file cabinet looking down at my desk.
On the desk, I laid out a fantastic spread of bait snacks. I got all my thief’s favorites, and then I took it one step further. I bought myself a Valentine’s heart, broke the seal to make it more inviting, and left it out on my desk.

The next morning, I came into some very obvious snack carnage. My thief had slowly been getting more brazen (again, who OPENS a new box of something?? And opens it DIFFERENTLY than the person they are stealing from??) but this was just on another level. Individually wrapped things had been dumped out of their boxes.
Bits of the packaging had been thrown away. And, yup; they’d eaten some of the Valentine candy.

For shame, office thief! Don’t you know that’s from someone who loves me??

I played back the video. All was quiet throughout most of the evening, and I was just watching the shadows lengthen as the sun slowly set through the hallway window. And then! Shortly before midnight! The night janitor arrived!

And went right ahead and took a 12-minute break in my office, sitting in my chair, eating my food.

I started taking screenshots. I got him shoveling candy into his mouth with full palm-to-lips intensity. Pouring things out onto the desk to pick his favorite flavors.
Not even bothering to put them back where he found them. And yes. Eating my ******* Valentine’s candy.

Screenshots went directly to my boss in an email. I went directly to my boss’s door to hover and grin and ask if he’d read my email.

And I got assurances of a strongly worded email to the cleaning company and the barring of this particular employee from our place of business.

I was also, tactfully, asked to please take my unauthorized spy camera home, which I did.

I thought this was over, until the girl who works the concession stand dropped by to thank me.
Apparently, the food thief would start his shift just as she was closing down for the night, and would try to get free coffee in that “creepy guy” way.

And then one of the reception staff came by with the same sentiments. I’d never met the guy face to face, but apparently, as a woman, it was not a fun experience to have. I’d shown my screenshots to a few coworkers (“who’s eating u/5RabbitsInALongCoat’s food” had become office gossip by this point) and word had spread fast. I worked an earlier shift, so I didn’t recognize him, but people who’s shifts overlapped with his did.

I hadn’t told my husband about what I’d done because, when I came home raging about the blatant theft that had gone on while I’d had the flu, his only response had been “you really shouldn’t be leaving food at work, then.” But, when I came home with the nanny cam and explained where and why I’d gotten it, his reaction surprised me.

“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you stand up for yourself.

I’m proud of you.”

Y’know what, Reddit? I’m proud of myself too! [deleted]

12. Steal My Girlfriend? I’ll Catch You And Frame You

“I live with my GF Karen and my old grade school friend Jake who was working as a ‘sales rep.’
We live on the outskirts of a well-known city in the states.
I was in my late 20’s I found myself looking for work as a bar I was working at closed down.

Knowing I was desperate for work Jake calls me and tells me his new GF Jill just purchased a motel/bar with a small kitchen and she is after hired help. Needless to say, I jump at the opportunity as Karen wasn’t working, the bills were piling up and out health insurance was due.

I called Jill, arranged to meet her at her new property to introduce myself.

Jake made the introductions in person and had already told Jill I was a hands-on DIY person with hospitality experience.
Now to explain, my Dad is sparky and believes if you can pay someone to fix something, you could probably do it cheaper your self. He taught me lots and still does to this day.

After a 30 minute chat, Jill tested me with a few odd jobs like rewiring an outlet, fixing a clogged sink and quizzed me on liquor laws.

Needless to say, I was hired that day.

Originally work was all about getting the property ready for business. Jill thought it would have been minor works (paint, replacement of fixings and furniture) we soon found out the electrical wires were shot, the whole place needed re-wiring which was a cause of stress for Jill as it would have blown her budget.
Lucky for Jill, my Dad was between contracts and offered his services using leftover stock (already paid for from other jobs), Jill would need to cover the cost of any new product required.

As for labor, his payment, he said he enjoys a steak and beer on Friday nights. After 3 weeks of helping Dad, the wiring was done, was up to code and at a fraction of the cost. Jill and I spent 1-2 months painting all 15 motel rooms, bistro, bar. Cleaning the kitchen, cool rooms etc. Jake would offer to help but always left after 20 minutes saying he has to “make a sale”.

Jill often worked well into the night. After all, this was her dream. I’d take some furniture home to restore after hours and return it once restored.

Business opened up after 6 months (and thanks to Dad) opened under budget. Jill managed the business and ran the kitchen, I worked where I was needed. In the kitchen, on the bar, tending to maintenance. I was on salary, second in charge and could work in any position.

Things went smoothly for a year. Business was turning a profit. Dad was getting his weekly beer and steak. Karen seemed happy, Jake was still working as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company.
One day I felt crook at work, so I clocked off and went home early. Pulling into my driveway, with the exception of a turning gut, things felt normal. Jake’s car was there but he lived there so I didn’t think anything was wrong.

As usual, I parked behind Jake (important for later). when I opened the door I found Karen doing the *************** with Jake on the couch. After seeing me Jake grabbed his pants and ran out through the back door. Karan and I argued into the night, she tried blaming me saying I’m never home, I’m spending to much time with Jill (we were keeping things professional, I was her employee).

I went to bed and told her she can sleep in Jake’s bed as she clearly finds it more comfortable.

I called Jill and informed her of this as Jake was her boyfriend, she was upset as he cheated on her but admitted she suspected he was seeing someone else. Jill offered me a room at the motel until I figure out my next move.

The next day I loaded my personal effects in the truck.

(Jake’s car was still there as I had blocked it in) I told Karen she can keep the rental and the furniture. I said Karen I’d be back for my tools in a few hours and I would appreciate if she wasn’t there.
I went home that afternoon to load my tools into my truck, while I was grabbing something from under my workbench I found a bag I wasn’t familiar with… Upon closer inspection, I found and a large number of little tablets.

The way they were packed and hidden made me realize they were probably for selling. A thorough search of the house led to me finding 2 more bags and about 12k in cash. I put 2 and 2 together and realized that Jake’s pharmaceutical sales job was code for drug dealer, and Jake probably traded pills to Karen for naughty fun time. I was beyond angry until I realized that I have all I need to get him back.

The revenge….

Jake’s car still hadn’t moved, I went inside and grabbed his spare keys, chucked on a pair of gloves that were in the garage. I put half the money and one bag of ***** in his boot and thought “hang on, this won’t pass”, I removed his spare tire from the wheel well and put the bag in there. The other 2 bags, I threw them down the storm drain in the laneway behind my house.

As for the 6k cash? Jake did cost me a house full of furniture! Just saying.

I sent a message to both Jake and Karen with the typical hurt script, “I can’t believe you did this, we were friends blah blah blah.
I’ve left I hope you two are happy together.” I then made an anonymous tip to the local police and ATF about a man fitting Jake’s description, loading what looks like ***** into the boot of a car that sounded Jake’s car and provided a partial number plate number that matched Jake’s car.

It didn’t take long for law enforcement to find the car and locate the *****. What I wasn’t counting on is Karen was driving the car at the time. She was later released when they found out she was driving the wrong car at the wrong time. A warrant went out for Jake’s arrest.
The icing on the cake. I found out later that not only was the police after Jake, but his supplier was also as well as he lost a lot of product.

Fast forward 3 months, I purchased a house, I was still working with Jill. Karen was pregnant with Jake’s baby and he was on the run. I suspected she was keeping contact with Jake because she suddenly left the district when she was 8 months pregnant.

12 months after the incident, after a drunken night, Jill and I mixed business with pleasure and started dating. That was 10 years ago.

we are married, have 2 children and just opened our 3rd business.
Dad still gets his Weekly steak and Beer.

I did hear a rumor that Jake and Karen wound up in Alaska but can’t confirm this.

I do feel a little bad about it now because Jake made it possible for me to date Jill and live a wonderful life. I do hope he is well.Scott3496

11. Block My Chance At A Promotion And Salary Increase? You Never Know What Happens Next

“For background, I work in a very competitive part of the service industry.

It’s a large enough community, but at the same time it’s small enough where someone somewhere in the industry knows you, so it’s important to not burn Bridges as one day you might find yourself in a disadvantageous position.

I was in my position for a good 3 years as middle management, no call outs, never late, always stayed after to help my team out, worked on projects that belonged to my bosses, etc.

Except for ONE DAY which I had gotten in a car accident (I was working the night shift and it was raining, this is important later in the story) and was unable to go into work as my car was undrivable and I had to wait for tow truck, insurance, and trying to find a ride late night/early morning was very difficult.

At the time, my director had been let go and there was a ***** bath, ******* contest to see who would get his promotion.

For hierarchy purposes, it’s my director, my direct bosses all on the same level of authority (3 of them) than me.
One of the direct bosses (let’s call him ****) decided he was getting the promotion and started shaking our department. Restructuring projects, changing people’s shifts, taking credit for other people’s work, he was a real pain.

About a few weeks of this, he had decided to switch me from morning shifts (which I had gotten due to my seniority in the team) into night shifts.

I didn’t make a stink because we were very short-handed (also important) and the team needed help as we had newer members who had children, and I understood how this could affect their life. Fast forward a few more weeks and I get into the car accident which made me call out.
This didn’t sit well with him as I had made the team suffer because of my irresponsibility (lol what?).

I didn’t think much of it since I knew it was stressful and people tend to say things they don’t mean under stress.

Soon after that, I met some higher-ups from another department, they offered me a job in a new venture the business was exploring. I was a good candidate because of my experience and work traits. Of course, I agreed as this would be a promotion in position and salary, plus my network of contacts would put me in a position to grow even further.

I went through a series of interviews (3 in total) and I was given the opportunity to take the position, I signed my paperwork and shook the hand.

A couple of days later HR called me saying the position was rescinded, and that it shouldn’t come as a surprise. I was shocked and asked for a meeting to understand the decision.

Queue the day of the meeting, I walked in and HR is sitting in the meeting room with ****.

After the cordialities, **** explains that he blocked my promotion because I had attendance issues (which I had one call out due to my accident) and HR chimed in saying this shouldn’t deter me from applying again in 6 months (lol ok).
I accepted defeat because I still needed my job, and I didn’t want to paint a target on my back.

A couple of days later a friend of mine that worked close to **** had told me **** had made the comment that he didn’t want to let me go because I would leave the night shift uncovered, and no one would easily accept that shift.

I was furious but decided to not act on it, as I explained earlier it’s a small enough business.

A few months later the competition opened up close enough that a few people left to go there.
I was one of them, I was hired by an amazing boss who I am still friends with years after. He offered me a great position and a huge raise in salary.

For hierarchy purposes it was my boss then me and my counterpart then our assistants.

I had heard through the ********* that **** had gotten rejected from the director position and was leaving the company. About a week or so later I was looking at new hires with my boss to fill out my counterpart position. My boss calls me and says, hey look this guy comes from the company you came from.

To my delight, I saw ****’s name. I had been hiring people to the assistant positions from the previous company, so I guess **** thought he was next.

I told my boss the story about **** and how he blocked my promotion. All my boss said was TBNT (thank you but no thank you). We didn’t even give him an interview. Like I said before don’t burn bridges if your industry is small.” casinodom

10. Evict You Legally? Don’t Have To Ask Me Twice

“I’m a landlord. I rented a house to a well-to-do lady and instead of the lady moving in her sister and her drug-addicted sister’s drug-addicted boyfriend moved in.

It was going fine until the sisters got in a fight and well-to-do sister stopped paying rent. I went to the house and explained to them now it is time for them to move, let’s just shake hands and go our own way. I even offered them $500 if they were out by the weekend and the place was broom clean. “YOU GOT TO EVICT ME LEGALLY!!” the boyfriend said.

All right then.

On maintenances calls n the previous months I had always seen drug paraphernalia laying around somewhere. I don’t get involved in my tenant’s personal lives so I just let it be.
A couple of mornings after my tenants refused to leave I put a notice in their mailbox dated from the day before telling them that I was going to enter the house to do maintenance.

I showed up at 8 AM and knocked on the door no answer. I used my key to open the door and I saw drug paraphernalia on the coffee table. I closed the door and then called the sheriff. A half an hour later, as my tenants were in handcuffs and the male tenant was being put in the squad car I told him “NOW YOU’RE EVICTED LEGALLY!” As it turns out they both had warrants and Their families came and got all their stuff.

I have the house ready to rent in about three days.” nwa747

9. Maid Stealing My Belongings? I’ll Lure Her To Try Stealing My Car Too

“This story happened approx. 4 years ago to a friend of mine. He and his wife (girlfriend back then) took a house loan, bought a new Chevrolet Camaro and in general they were preparing for a life together (he has proposed to her).

Because of their lack of free time due to their hard work to pay off the loan they didn’t have time for themselves, nor for the abnormal amount of other things such as the housework.

So they hired a maid. His first impressions about her were good and they decided that she’s the person they will trust, and they handled her their house keys because they were at work most of the time she came around to clean their house.

First few weeks she worked hard and always paid attention to detail and nicely cleaned their house from the bottom to the very top. She was also instructed not to let anyone in and to always lock the door when she left.

After 6 months of her working there, strange things began to happen. Not in any anomalous way, but things started to disappear (being stolen). It all started with small things like AA batteries which are barely noticeable missing.

But soon things graduated as phone chargers, perfumes (the more expensive ones) and some electrical gadgets went missing.

My friend thought that he simply lost them, but soon the maid raised suspicion as the things went missing when my friend wasn’t present when she was detailing their house.
But without any evidence blaming her wasn’t in place. Also, he found out on some social media, that she has got some serious debts at least in thousands of dollars (aliments, divorce court settlements, etc.)

So he decided to install security cameras.

And he didn’t tell the maid.

5 weeks forward and he had enough evidence to press charges on her as the things she stole were valued at 250$+ (In my country anything stolen above 250 bucks is considered a crime). He got furious when his flash disk containing private documents as well as some of his billing and his official work documents were stolen.
But he wanted her to get even more into the stealing so he can squish even the last cent out of her.

So he came up with a plan. He told the maid that he and his girlfriend will be gone for a week for a honeymoon and that he will be going by taxi not to pay extra money airports charge for the parking. That means his brand new Chevrolet Camaro will stay parked in the house the maid has got keys of. They rented an apartment through Airbnb just a few blocks away from his place and he placed a GPS tracking keychain into his car so he could see when his car is through the phone app.

He then placed the car keys in a visible spot on the house so the maid will notice.

All that was left is wait for the magic to happen. And his intuition was right. After 2 days of almost constant watching the GPS tracker’s location, the car left the garage. All of a sudden the car was cruising at 90MPH on the highway. My friend immediately called the cops.

They caught the maid something like 20 miles (30KM) away.

And now revenge can take the place. He decided to press charges on the maid. At the court, the maid told the judges my friend told her to drive the car to some “untold” location (she acted like she forgot where it is) and the one that should go to the jail is him because he wrongly accused her and he just wants to get money from her to pay his loan.

But the tables turned. My friend and his lawyer showed the court all of the video evidence of her stealing his stuff valued HIGHLY above 250$ (it was like 40.000$ including the car). So it was a crime. She starting swearing and telling every single lie she could think of. The security had to calm her down. She is facing 5 years in jail and she was charged 5.000$ including all the stolen property but the car, his lawyer and some other court staff.

The price was excluding the car because it was returned almost immediately).

A few days later police did a house check on her and most of the stolen stuff was there.
There were also some other things reported missing from other customers of her. Due to her previous debts and the new ones she owes she will very likely become homeless when gotten out of the jail.” TobyMe11

8. Can’t Do the Job Right? I’ll Make It My Job To Take Your Job

“I was an observer in this whole affair but to say I didn’t enjoy the **** out of it would be a lie.

Company A did fencing/walls/barriers etc Company A was run by Bob. Bob was a real upstanding guy, took over the business from his father and really grew it into something big.

Bob had an employee, Jake. Jake had been with Company A for quite a few years but Bob and Jake always rubbed off on each other in the wrong ways.
Bob always felt like Jake was the king of shortcuts and shoddy workmanship.

When Bob took over the company from his dad, Bob applied more pressure on Jake to bring up the quality of his work or be let go. Eventually, Jake got tired of the increased pressure and quit and formed his own fencing company called Company B.

Here is where I come in, I started a job in a company providing business services to small to medium-sized businesses in the area and both Company A and Company B became my clients.

This was several years after Company B had formed.
From my outside viewpoint, Company A was that local company that’s been around forever that does good quality work that you can trust…but they aren’t going cheap, they never try to be cheap, but you can trust them. Company B was the young start-up who was cutting corners and being competitive in every way possible, often by lying, or misleading its customers.

That’s when company C comes in, Company C was a building a production facility in the area and wanted a wall with gates around its new production facility. This was going be a BIG contract and really the only two players in the area that could possibly do this job were Company A or company B.
This contract was worth a lot, if my memory serves me correctly the job was somewhere near 7 figures.

Company A and Company B went to go bid. Company B came in at like a 30% lower price point and even though Bob tried to explain it wasn’t possible for Company B to do the work that was promised at the price point that was given. Of course, money talks and Company B got the contract.

I remember Bob was furious, in his eyes he felt what Jake was doing was wrong, he didn’t mind fair competition but Jake’s MO has always been way underbid, over-promise, rely on cost overruns to make a profit.

Bob’s opinion on business was a price is a price and if he says he’s going X for Y he’s going do X for Y even if he loses money. Its how he was raised.

Some time goes by, and Bob gets a call from company C, they’ve apparently fired Jake and his company due to not being able to do the work required and ask Bob if he can come in and fix the mistakes.

Bob agrees and gets the job done. At this point Bob starts thinking, he’s gotta take Jake out. Jake is taking too much money out of his pocket.
Bob comes up with the idea of buying Jake out. But Bob knows if he approaches Jake regardless of what he offers to pay Jake is going say no. So Bob has got to be smart. Bob is talking to me about this doing one of our meetings, we had become quite close.

And I tell Bob “I bet there are lawyers out there who specialize in helping other companies acquire other companies. Bob asks me if I know of any…I don’t but I did have a client who specialized in business law who would be more familiar with this whole thing.
I give Bob his contact info and Bob thanks me.

Bob contacts the lawyer and tells the lawyer what he would like to do.

The lawyer tells Bob a lawyer who used to work for him now works for a firm that specializes in mergers and acquisitions and if Bob wanted to buy out Jakes’s company he’s confident this firm could get it done. Also, this firm was in the big city far away from their small community so it’s unlikely Jake would know what’s truly going on.

Bob contacts the firm and says he wants to buy out his competitor and would like to enlist their services.

Now this is already getting a bit longer so I’ll get to the point. This firm ended up buying Jake’s company, lock, stock, and barrel and gave the company to Bob. All the while Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that his arch enemy has just acquired his very own company.

I recall Bob describing to me the day he walked into Jake’s company with such delight.

Bob was told he owned the company, Jake had been paid and was expecting to meet the new owner of the company that pleasant Monday morning. Jake was given the title of General Manager.
And was considered 2nd in command now.

So Bob walked into the building that once belonged to Jake with his documents and the lawyer that had helped him acquire the firm (Who Jake was familiar with) Bob walked into Jakes office to Jakes surprise

Jake: Hi Bob

Bob: Hi Jake, how are you?

Jake: I’m good, what are you doing here?

Bob: O nothing much, just thought I’d come to check out my newly acquired business

Jake: Uh?

Bob: Jake, you sold your company to me.

Jake: I did what? No, I didn’t! I sold it to XYZ.

Bob: XYZ is the law firm I hired to organize the transaction I am now the owner.
Jake: That’s *******.

Bob: Here’s the documents, (lawyer who Jake was familiar with confirmed this was all true)

Jake: So your now my boss?

Bob: yes, now get up, that’s my chair and I’m tired I wanna sit down for a minute.

Jake: This is my office.

Bob: This is my company, and I have decided that this office is now my office so I’m going to need you to get out of my chair

Jake gets out of the chair.

Bob: Great, well, have a sit Jake.

Jake: Thanks.

Bob: Jake I think the first order of business today is getting rid of redundancies.

Jake: What do you mean?

Bob: Well you see Jake whenever a company acquires another company you get overlap, redundancies.

Two HR departments, two sectaries, two accountants, etc. But now it’s all one company, so now you got redundancies, overlaps, which is quite frankly a waste of money.

Jake: Yea…

Bob: And I don’t need two owners working for one company, (and he laughs and tells me he had the biggest sh*t-eating grin on his face) Jake, its become apparent that your services are no longer required and effective immediately you are terminated.

Jake: Protested

Bob: The decision is final, you may collect your personal belongings and leave the premises, what time did you get to work this morning?

Jake: 7 AM

Bob: Great, so you’ve been here for 2 hours, I’ll make sure payroll pays you out for 2 hours on the agreed-upon rate in the buy out an agreement, have a nice day.
Jake: So you’re just firing me? Just like that?

Bob: Yup, should have done this long ago

Jake: what about my family?

Bob: Jake, I just bought your company from you and paid you a lot of money, you’ll be fine.

Now get out of my office and out of my building.

And that is how Bob acquired and fired an employee he should have fired long before.

I remember the day vividly when Bob scheduled an appointment with me to go over Company B services and negotiate a new service contract with us. It was the day Bob had fired Jake. Bob was in a great mood, one of the best moods ever.

We did the business we needed to handle and Bob and said “PJ you helped me alot get this all done I’d like to invite you out to dinner and drinks and let’s watch monday night football together” (I really hadn’t) I said “Bob I really didn’t do much” he said “O yes you did, you pointed me in the right direction” I go “Well that’s the least I could do” He said “Very well, still like to take you out to dinner and drinks if that’s alright with you?”

Now I’m not one to turn down free beer and food so I agreed.

And that night Bob and I went to a local hang out and watched Monday night football and ate and drank beer as Bob recounted this whole experience with such joy.

Bob later rebranded Jake’s company as a commercial only enterprise and refocused his main company on residential and both companies still exist today and run by Bob and Son now.” PJExpat

7. The City Screwed Up, And I Got To Sue – Finally

“So after a year-long battle, this finally came to a close.

Maybe not my revenge, but revenge on my behalf. A little backstory, I bought a house about 5 years ago and in 3 years, flooded 3 times. It never flooded in the 40 years before.
Thanks climate change! Finally, after the 3rd flood, my wife and I were financially able to move out and sell the house for a loss. We search around and find our dream house.

Or so we thought.

After living in the new house for about 6 months we noticed something very peculiar. Whenever it would rain hard, the bathtub would backfill with sewage and the toilets wouldn’t flush. So we called a plumber. The plumbers were awesome and told us that our sewer lines had broken between the house and the city sewer line and while we could try and spot fix, we would probably need to replace the entire line.

Ouch. Having just dumped a bunch of cash on a new house and taking a loss on the old house, we said to try and keep it as cheap as possible. They dug up where the line was broken. Broken is an understatement. The line had all but dissolved. We were going to have to replace the whole line. About $5k. Not the best time but okay, let’s do it.

Once they exposed the line the best they could, I got a call from the plumbers. The line has broken up so badly, they cannot find where the residential line ties into the city line or “tap”.
Now the home-owner is responsible for the residential line, but the city is responsible for the tap and the mainline. I as the plumber that is needed. He says we need to get the city plans and dig to uncover the tap.

More digging = more money. At this point, it’s been 2 weeks and I just want to *** in my own house and take a shower. Okay, dig the hole. They dig a 4’x4’x10′ hole and find nothing. We double-check the city plans and they are right on where the plans say the tap is.

Now we have to deal with the city.
We call 311 as directed and after sitting on hold for 3 hrs, a city official sends us the same plans with the location where we dug.

We call back and say we already dug there and there is no tap. Getting nowhere with the city, my wife finally goes down to city hall and after spending a vacation day, hanging around waiting for someone, she finally gets in to meet with an official, let’s call him Richard. Richard prints off the same plans we have already been given and says we need to dig where it’s marked.

My wife takes out her phone and says, ‘look, it’s not there.’
At this point he mutters to himself and takes out a pen and draws on the plans, marking the “actual” location. It shows the residential line doglegging from the original drawings and is about 10′ west of the initial location. It was apparent that he doesn’t want to waste his valuable cushy government job time on my wife.

It was pretty obvious he just made something up to get her out of his office.

Plumbers come out, dig a 2nd 4’x4’x10′ hole (read more money) and surprise surprise, the tap isn’t there either! Fun. Back to city hall and another vacation day wasted waiting for Richard.
At this point, we don’t want another hand-drawn map, someone from the city needs to come out and mark where this **** tap is.

They come out and I burn a vacation day to wait around for them. To their credit, they got down in the sewer, did some digging around and mark a new spot between the 2 big holes. Finally! A real location! Plumbers come out and dig the 3rd hole. And if you think they actually found the tap, then you would be mistaken. At this point, the entire backyard is destroyed.

Piles of dirt everywhere, the lawn is dead, the trees are dead, it’s ruined.
Our beautiful new house’s backyard is literally ***.

Back down to Richard’s office, another vacation day burned, and we are livid. We remain calm but insist that we must have not been tied into the city’s mainline. There was no tap! Now you might be thinking, how did we not know? 6 months of sewage just piled up in your back yard? In the backyard, there is a large dirt mound that had been turned into a nicely landscaped “forest”.

You can kind of see it in the backyard picture. Lots of room to absorb the sewage that only 2 people would produce.
But if rained hard, the dirt was saturated and would backfill the bathtub and the toilets wouldn’t flush. Richard doesn’t accept responsibility but does send out the contractor who did all the work for taps in my area.

The contractor comes out and I get the full story.

2 years prior, while the previous owner was doing improvements and not living in the house, the mainline of the sewer was replaced. Basically, they slide the new tubing into the old tubing underground and then go in and install new taps for each house. Since no one was living in the house, they couldn’t get into the backyard and told the city they did not service our house.

I am FURIOUS. Its been 3 months, >$20k, and all the wasted time and vacation just because Richard was too lazy to do his job and make one call to the contractor to sort it out.

Now, remember how my first house flooded 3 times? I learned my lesson dealing with people and once we knew we had to talk to the city, we recorded everything. Every phone call, every email, I videoed the contractor and his explanation, everything and all obtained legally (in my state you have to have both people’s consent to be recorded).

He installs a tap and I take the first shower at my house in 3 months.
I am ready to act.

I go down once again to Richard’s office. I show him everything and want to file a claim. I agree to cover the cost of the residential line as that is my responsibility, however, I want the city to reimburse the cost to dig the unnecessary holes.

I think I have a good case! Pursuant to our city, we had to file a claim before starting any work and provide 3 estimates in writing to file a claim. Since none of that was done and could not be done after the fact, Richard denied the claim right there.
Left without words, I walk away completely defeated. I perk up on the way home after calling my wife and being reminded that I have some lawyer friends.

Surely one of them could help or knows someone who can. Unbeknownst to me, my state has something called “sovereign immunity”. Basically you can try and sue the city or state but it will be thrown out immediately, and Richard knows this. No credible lawyer will help my pursue this case because they know I would just be wasting my money. I am pretty much SOL.

After months of calling around to try and find anyone to help I have resigned myself to defeat.
Almost a year goes by.

The loans I took out are about to start coming due and I have no idea how I am going to pay for it. All communication with Richard and his office is blocked. I have also tried his boss and crickets. I tried going back down there, but Richard refused to meet with me.

I finally reach out to my council member in a last-ditch effort. I include a synopsis along with all the evidence I have. I don’t expect much. One hour after hitting send, my phone rings. It is my council member and she is LIVID about how we were treated.
She has a meeting scheduled with the head of public works for later than a week. She doesn’t promise anything but says she is going to fight for me until they kick her out of the building.

After the meeting, she calls me on her way back to the office. The head of public works has accepted full responsibility. She wants receipts for everything. The plumber, pay stubs showing the vacation we took, phone logs from the time we spent on hold, the quote from the landscaper to fix the backyard, all of it. She has them all in her inbox by the time she makes it back to her office.

That was about 3 weeks ago. Yesterday I met with my council member at her office.

Me – “Thank you so much. My wife and I cannot repay you for all you have done!”

Her – “It was my pleasure!”

We chit chat for a bit

Her – “Here is a check for what you are owed!”

Me – “This is so great! We can pay off the loan and finally get someone to fix our y…. Wait, this is much more than we need.”

Her – “You forgot to include emotional distress.

I added it in for you” *wink* Oh, and if you ever have any issues, you won’t have to worry about dealing with Richard, he no longer works there.
Just come to me, I have become good friends with the head of public works”

Me – “Oh my god, you are literally the best person I know, if there is anything I can do..”

Her – “Elections are in the fall, maybe you could turn out and vote?”

So I went home, paid off everything and the landscapers are coming out next week.

Oh, and I am volunteering on her re-election campaign! Since Richard didnt go for that, I got him fired and almost 30k for the extra work, my wife and I’s time and effort, plus emotional distress.” Exs_in_Texas

6. Lie About The Only Thing You Ever Talk About? Watch Out Or You Could Get Exposed

“Growing up, my father was an emotionally abusive piece of *** who got off of religious authority and controlling every aspect of our lives.

We were kept so isolated and made to fear the police/CPS to the point where we thought it was normal.
After I went off to college, my little brother came out as gay and my father started beating him (unbeknownst to my mother and me). When my brother threatened to tell my mom about this, my father kicked the then 15-year-old out of the house. My mother was understandably horrified by this and tried to get my father to see sense, at which point he started hitting her.

Long story somewhat short, I got my mom out, my brother went to live with friends, and divorce proceedings were started. It was nasty, no one wanted to go to the police (father was friends with the local small-town cops), and thankfully my ****** sperm donor agreed to a no-fault divorce.
While my mom was cleaning out her stuff from the house under the watchful eye of her amazing coworkers, she found my father’s discharge papers.

This is where the plan started. You see, my father spent his entire 25-year marriage telling everyone that he was a Special Forces vet who had been awarded a Purple Heart and Bronze Star which were both coincidentally destroyed in a house fire along with all his uniforms and paperwork. But here we’re his discharge papers and they clearly stated he was given an Other Than Honorable Discharge after 4 years in the motor pool.

Not wanting to be seen as the vindictive ex-wife, my mom quietly took the papers and didn’t tell anyone for years after my father moved away to a new state to join a militia.
When she finally told me while tipsy this past year, we hatched a plan. Over the next few months, we snooped on social media to make a list of his former and current employers, family, major friends that we knew of, and his new church.

She enlisted our extended family and I my college friends from all over the country. In November we each purchased Veteran’s Day cards and wrote out messages such as “stolen valor” “motor pool” “pretender” etc. Everyone attached a photocopy of the page listing his discharge. And then we sent them on the same day from the nearest major cities with the return address listed as his current church.

They arrived on or around Veteran’s Day from Atlanta, Orlando, Washington DC, New York, St. Loius, Kansas City, Seattle, Portland, LA, Houston, Ontario, London, and Edinburgh.

Immediately my mother was inundated with calls/emails from people who “had no idea” and “couldn’t believe he would lie like that” and ” we’re sorry for not believing her/my brother.” My dipsh*t dad sent a nasty email implying horrible things if he ever could prove my mother did this, which she forwarded straight to her lawyer along with the nasty letters from his more vocal supporters.

Now most people in our hometown look at her as the battered spouse who walked out with her head held high rather than “that tramp who divorced such a godly man”.
My little brother has no idea we did this (he didn’t want anyone to confront my father), but later told me he got a random call from our old pastor apologizing for kicking him out of the church over my father’s lies.

And I can finally sleep well at night with the knowledge that his reputations is in shambles by our hands. Revenge truly is a dish best served cold.” baglesssforlife

5. Think You Know Everything? You Don’t And You Deserve To Get Left Behind

“Some years ago, I got a gig working a weekend music festival. Fairly simple too: ten bands per day and all pretty standard rock ‘n’ roll fare.

Bossman puts four of us out on the gig: me, Dreadful Boris, Big Chris and Hammer.
He also said we’d be taking out an apprentice, a young lad who was the son of a local promoter. Well, always nice to have an extra pair of hands, and it’s good to help train the next generation-after all, that’s how we learnt in the past.

As it turned out this lad was about as much use as an aqualung to a trout and had an entitled attitude the size of a mid-ranged African country.

On the journey down in the truck, he was boasting as to how he was “a really good sound engineer” already and that “he could probably show us a few tricks.”

Oh, really?

We get to the venue and get busy unloading the truck: we’ve got a 16-tonner stuffed to the gills with two sounds desks and about 16KW of sound gear for front-of-house and about 6KW of monitors.

As you might imagine, this is pretty heavy stuff and it takes all of us to safely unload it and get it stacked up in place-except that, after unloading the first amp rack (all on wheels but still around 80 kilos), the Entitled Brat snottily announces that “I’m a sound engineer, not a humper…”, and promptly strolls off.

Err….okaaayy…

Well, we don’t really need him gumming up the works-we’re all well used to slinging boxes around, so about an hour later we’ve got the rig stacked up and strapped down, run out the multicore to the FOH desk, and are ready to start cabling up and tying power into the on-site generator.

Out of nowhere, the Spotty Oik emerges from whatever hole he had buried himself in and asks what he can do. I say, “I’m going to plug up front-of-house, perhaps you could help Hammer cable up the speakers.”

“I don’t take orders from girlies!”

(Quick side note here: Hammer was 5′ 9″, drop-dead gorgeous and as hard as nails-hence her nickname. She was also a **** fine FOH engineer and a ****** good mate.)

Boris, Chris and I collectively groaned inwardly and winced in anticipation of a full 16″ broadside from Hammer (seriously, folks-you do NOT *** with her unless you want the family jewels dangling from the nearest tree!)

Instead, she smiles sweetly (NEVER a good sign) and says, “well I’m sure you’ll learn something useful.” I then go off to play with cables FOH, while Boris and Chris busy themselves with the monitors.

A while later I’m back on stage: Spotty Oik has wandered off again. Hammer has this resigned look on her face: “what happened?”, I ask.

Turns out that, despite cables and connector ports being well labeled, The Oik had managed to make a complete pig’s ear of plugging up the amp racks. Trust me, it’s very hard to make this kind of mistake.

I found The Oik some moments later and told him that it was not the proper way of doing things and that if he wasn’t sure what to do that he should always ask one of us beforehand.

What then came out of his mouth absolutely floored me: “I don’t need to know all that ***.
I’m a sound engineer!”

Hammer, who was standing a few feet away, snorted derisively and rolled her eyes heavenwards. It took me a few seconds to process this particular nugget of stupid: “Well, you HAVE to know how all this works; it’s part and parcel of the job and as you’re here to learn, I suggest you pay attention.”

“Well, you’re just a bunch of roadies; what do you know?”

Upon delivering this charming bon mot, he ambles off (again) leaving me to retrieve my jaw from off the deck and Hammer barely able to restrain a fit of laughter that would have incapacitated a rhino.

At a guess, this idiot thought he was going to be white-gloving front-of-house for the whole gig.

An hour or so later, we’re all set up, and we now have a fair idea of the acts that are going to be performing. In situations like this, you rarely get the opportunity of a full-blown soundcheck so you have to rely on experience to set the desk up from cold.

Luckily we got the first act onstage a half hour before the kick-off so I could quickly get a rough sense of the overall set-up.

A bit of exposition: it’s convenient to reuse channels across acts, so I generally keep the first twenty or so channels for drums, bass and guitars, and the last half dozen or so channels for vocals.
If a band comes in with anything else-percussion, brass, Tibetan nose flutes, etc., we whack them on channels in the middle.

Keeps things nice, simple and consistent across the board, and becomes important in a moment.

The working procedure in-show is also simple: Dreadful Boris and Big Chris run the monitor desk, and Hammer and I run front-of-house. We’ll do two acts each before handing over to the other (saves wear and tear on the ears) and when we’re not running the desk, we’ll handle setting up the stage for each act and troubleshooting where necessary, as well as doing runs for food and coffee in between.

We also tasked the Spotty Oik with helping with the stage setups, which rapidly proved problematic. We finished the first act and aimed to do the turnover within fifteen minutes. Generally, the incoming act will tell us their mic requirements and we’ll write up a mic plot which then gets sent up to the front-of-house desk. Up comes Spotty Oik with the mic plot and he goes back to help with the stage setup.

As I’m checking each mic, I notice that I cannot hear the vocal channels. No sooner had I spotted this than Dreadful Boris comes on the intercom and asks me if I can hear the vocal channels (he can’t hear them either).
He then goes off to check the stage box where all the mics are plugged into. From all the way out front, I hear him shout, “*** me!”.

Seconds later he’s back on the cans: “Do you know what that fecking idiot has done? Only repatched ALL the vocal channels so that all the plugs on the stage box are “lined up neatly one after the other!-his words!!”

Ye Gods!

Boris rapidly repatches the mics and we’re good to go again. A few hours later and I’m starting my second shift out front (I won’t bore you with my experiences of riding herd on Spotty Oik on the stage shift which-shall we say- was interesting.

Currently on stage is a rather nice jazz septet (I love doing jazz-give me a nice 20-piece big band and I’m a happy bunny). Up strolls He Who Shall Not Be Mentioned and asks, “When can I have a go at mixing. I’m really good, you know.” Seeing as he’s here to learn I tell him he can take the next act under my supervision. This happened to be an acoustic duo-two guitars and two vocals.

Even the most tyro engineer should be able to handle something so simple, right?

Wrong!!

I’ve already set what I regarded as a sensible baseline on the faders for him to work with.
The first thing he does, he reaches for the master faders and cranks in another 15dB-NOOOOO!!! Immediately the rig teeters on the edge of feedback and I rapidly pull the mains back. “Look and listen: balance out the two vocals, then the guitars, leave the mains alone!”

He then starts making wildly inappropriate changes to the channels’ EQ-again the rig starts to squeak.

Ok, enough! I shove him out of the way and bring it back under control.

I won’t fatigue you further with the endless catalog of foul-ups and attitude that he managed to effect over the rest of the weekend, suffice it to say that despite the best efforts of myself and Hammer to try and teach this guy, they all went to naught.
Couple this with the constant drip-drip-drip of snide commentary about how he was “really a better engineer” than the rest of us, and by the end of the weekend, we’re all pretty pissed off.

Come to the end of the event and it’s now the fun part of striking the rig and loading out (I’m being sarcastic about the fun part, by the way). Two solid days and we’re all knackered and the last thing we want to be doing is the get-out but, of course, it has to be done. It’s always an all-hands-on-deck situation… except the Spotty Oik has, once again, vanished into the woodwork.

Two back-breaking hours later and we’re all done, and the truck loaded to go home. So where is the Spotty Oik? Nowhere!

We give it a good fifteen minutes-but no joy. We then decide to go look for him, so we spent another twenty minutes trolling around the site trying to find him. Again, he’s done a disappearing act. We get back to the truck-it’s now close to 3am-and almost simultaneously we say, “*** him!” We climb back aboard and drive the 250 miles back to the warehouse to unload.

Next afternoon, Bossman calls me to find out why we’d left the Spotty Oik behind.
I gave him the Cliff Notes and was then told that The Oik had had to call his dad at three in the morning to come and get him-a 500-mile round trip. He then said, “I never liked that promoter anyway. He was always late paying the bill on previous gigs. Next time he calls wanting a rig and crew, I think I’ll tell him to *** off!” Ghostof Sorabji

4. Cut Me Off And Almost Kill Me? There’s A Number On The Back Of Your Truck For A Reason

“I was driving down a small country road with a 45mph speed limit that some choose to ignore.

And coming up behind me was a standard work truck (I won’t name names but it was a popular automotive parts store delivery truck) and got right on my bumper I’m in not in a tiny car but it’s a sedan and he was so close that all I saw was grill and hood in my mirrors.
While I stayed doing the speed limit, after about 3 mins he decided that a sharp curve was the perfect time to pass me and surprise surprise there was a car coming after the curve.

He swerved at me and I slammed the brakes nearly missing his bumper.

Thankfully I had this all on dashcam, front and back. I got home later and got the footage on my laptop and called their 1800 number with his plate number and his truck number. The woman I spoke to was SUPER apologetic and she asked me to send her the video. She watched it while on the line with me and immediately asked if she could put me on hold.

I said yes and a few minutes go by and she gets back and brings me someone else on the line. The local store manager of that driver. She had sent him the video and the manager apologized for a ton and promised me right then and there that employee was terminated for that behavior.

A few weeks go by and I don’t hear anything till a friend of mine on Facebook sends me a link, the driver that was fired managed to get my name from his HR or manager or something and was trying to find me IRL because he lost his job and made a video wearing his work uniform threatening violence on me because of everything.

I went to my local PD station about it and showed them the video and explained everything and was told I needed to speak to that company again because they let my name get out. I called them and told them everything going on and I was told I’d get a call from their HR department within 2-3 business days. Literally 6 hours later I received a call from some higher up HR person with one of their legal team on the phone.

They wanted me to sign a document stating I won’t publicly go after them or give negative PR if they sue him for me and get a restraining order and everything on this guy for what he threatened.
They even offered to have a lawyer of my choosing go over it with me at no cost to me and sign it and have them handle it.

Another few more weeks go by and that friend on Facebook (he knows that guys family or something) said that the dudes mom posted some sob story that her son is going through some expensive court case that he likely won’t win because the other team is over 10 lawyers.

So not only lost his job but then tried to find me only to have his ex-employer sue him.” spartOn654

4. Won’t Cover My Basic Health Insurance? Say Bye To Your Huge Contract

“The company I work for provides free insurance for all employees. I’ve been working in my company as a finance manager for 13 years and the company has been dealing with a famous insurance company for the last 10 years, providing insurance policies for employees.

In the span of 10 years, I think I must’ve used my insurance 3 times. I’m a young man, healthy and athletic and didn’t really face any health problems. That all changed a couple of months ago when I suddenly gained too much weight and I started having some breathing difficulties. So I went to my doctor who, after the checkup, asked me to do a normal ***** test, a cholesterol test, and a vitamin D test.

No problem, my insurance will take care of that, or at least that’s what I thought. When I submitted the application for approval, they approved the ***** test only.
I was furious. I went ahead and did all the tests and paid for the ones that the insurance didn’t approve.

After that incident, I called the broker, who by the way I personally know, and told him what happened.

He started making up excuses and defending the insurance company. At the end of our conversation, I told him one thing: make sure to tell them that this mistake will cost them a lot, my company will not renew the contract with them. He started laughing and replied: it’s not up to you to decide if the contract will be renewed or not.
I told him: oh yes it is.

What they didn’t know is that my company asked me a couple of days earlier, since I’m the finance guy, to try to find another insurance provider that will give us the same benefits for less or to get a better deal from the same provider. At first, I really didn’t want to find another provider since we have been dealing with that company for 10 years.

I thought I will be able to get a better price from them. It all changed that Friday afternoon.

After the weekend, I started searching for another insurance provider.
I got multiple offers and made a comparison table between the current company and all other offers. After 3 weeks of searching and negotiating, I was able to narrow it down to one provider who will give the same benefits for 30% less.

I was ecstatic. During the next board meeting, I made a presentation for the shareholders. They were happy that this will save them a lot of money, I’m not gonna give exact figures but the contract itself is in the order of hundreds of thousands of dollars.

After all was agreed, and when the renewal date came, you should’ve seen the look on the old insurance provider face when they became aware of what happened.

They asked for a meeting in our office, and they offered to give a 25% discount for us to stay with them. I declined the offer with a smile on my face and said this would be impossible now because the new contract was signed already.” LivingLifeEachyDay

3.  Harass My Parents? I’m Bringing My Uncle Into This

“My parents had me when they were plenty young. They were not teens anymore but had barely left that age bracket.

My mom and dad met in college. That was also when they had me. So while my parents were in their courses, I mostly stayed with my grandparents. The whole family lives in the same area.
And the college was not that far away.

My parents were still young and liked to go out with friends on occasion. When the following happened I was a few years old.

On occasion, they frequented a bar. A drunk guy there groped my mom and did not take a no as a no. My dad intervened and stopped the guy. And half an hour later all seemed forgotten. The music was loud the bar crowded and then someone in the crowd hit my dad with an empty glass pitcher square in the face. He was bleeding profusely and collapsed.

But in the press, semi-darkness and over the music no one knew who did it.
My dad got taken to the hospital. He had a broken nose and a heavy concussion. He also couldn’t see who had attacked him and his memory between the alcohol and being hit in the head was also very fuzzy. Of course, they had considered the guy who had harassed my mom, but they didn’t know him, nor did they see him anywhere leading up to the moment.

Let alone have any evidence. So they pressed charges against the unknown. But there was virtually nothing anyone could do.

But then a few days later the piece of crap, that had harassed my mom approached her on campus.
Turns out he was in the same college as my parents. He made a few veiled comments and left little doubt, that it had been him that hit my dad in the face.

And the piece of garbage let my mom know, that my dad next time should mind his manners. And that the little touching he had done, didn’t hurt anyone and wasn’t that bad. And if he wanted to do it again, he would and maybe more. And then the piece of crap went on his merry way.

My mom was horrified of course. She went home and told my grandparents, my dad, his parents.

But no one could do anything. It was a “he said, she said” deal after all. And my mom hadn’t even gotten the guy’s name. My mom cried a lot at that time and didn’t know what to do. She also was afraid of going to classes or out alone. I honestly only remember that time very scarcely. I was just a little kid. But I can remember my dad in the hospital and with his broken nose.

And my mom crying a lot. My dad, of course, was just as angry and humiliated as my mom. No one knew what to do.
And everyone was treading on egg-shells around each other.

But that is where my uncle enters the stage. My uncle, my mom’s brother, lived on the other side of the country. He was a PI. And he was, of course, the last to hear the full story.

But the moment he heard someone had threatened his little sister, he was on his way home. After hearing the full story my uncle knew it would likely be hard to get the guy on the harassment, the assault or the threats. Having no evidence.

My uncle had my mom point the guy out from afar on campus.
It took a few days to find him. But then my uncle started to stalk that piece of human filth.

My uncle took sick days, all his vacation and invested every second possible to find out everything about the harasser. My uncle even approached the pig in another bar and became “drinking buddies” with him.

Over several weeks my uncle had uncovered all manners of illicit behavior. Possession, consumption, and distribution of *****. Theft. And a few other misdemeanors and small-time stuff. And my uncle could have put him away for that.

But my uncle always said when asked about, that if he sent the ******* to prison, it would be for molesting my mom and hurting my dad.
And that is what he did.

One night while out with his new “buddy” drinking. My uncle made the idiot piss drunk and they landed in my uncle’s motel room. He got the harasser to incriminate himself on video. Rattling off a list of illegal *** he was up to.

My uncle had, of course, pretended to be a crook too. Among the stories ******* told was the story of how he groped some “chick” and brained her “dude” with a pitcher of beer. Now, something needs to be said. In my country of course recording someone in secret is illegal and under some conditions, like if the police do it, it is not a permissible piece of evidence in court.

But as a PI my uncle knew that laws for that exactly. But paradoxically the situation is different if it is not only audio but also video. And my uncle had the ******* on camera confessing.

The next day my uncle turned himself in to the police, with all his collected evidence. Because secretly filming people was still a crime. Though the video could be used as evidence in court, as my uncle was not affiliated with the police or any other governmental agency.

When the criminal trial and the civil trial were over the ******* got 6 years in prison and had to pay damages to my mom and dad.
2. Try To Steal Money From Our Family? You’re Not Seeing The Big Picture

“Shortly after my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, my formally estranged half-brother quit his job and moved in to help take care of my dad. Though there really wasn’t enough money, it was agreed to pay him around $300 a week to make up for his missing income.

During this time, my half brother abruptly acquired the durable power of attorney and usurped medical and financial (my mother and father had separate financial lives) decisions.

Several documents relating to my dad’s pension (which were now my half brother’s responsibility) were not turned in on time resulting in my dad missing out on a one-time payout of $8,000 and lowering his pension payout by $300/mo.
My half brother them cleaned out my dad’s remaining savings (about $3,000, not discover until about a month later).

6 days later, our father hung himself in the basement.

My dad left all of his insurance money, and belongings to my mother. Us children were left with only sentimental items. My half brother was visibly upset and shaking when the will was read. He acknowledged that my mother was receiving “everything” and left.

About a month later we discovered the missing money. Though he broke no laws because he had power of attorney, we insisted he pay it back, even offered to let him make payments over a two year period.

He refused and we have been no contact for two years now.

Little did he know that he was in my mom’s (his stepmother’s) will. He would receive half of what is currently a $250,000 estate. I suggested to my mother that she remove him from the will. She did and I am now the sole beneficiary.

He stole $3,000 now only to lose out on $125,000 later.” *********

1. Don’t Want To Change Your Number And Would Rather Lose Business? No Problem

“This happened a while back.

A local business (auto repair shop) changed their phone number for some reason, and a few months later when my family added a second phone line to the house, guess which number we were given?.
It wasn’t that much of a pain since most of the customer base had the new number but about 6 months later we start getting calls for this business several times a day so I finally ask one of the callers where he got the number from.

He tells me it’s on top of the business’s building in 3 foot high letters. really?. So I drive by that way the next day and sure enough, there it is in big blue letters. I look up the current number when I get home and give them a call. “Hey…I’ve noticed that you still have your old number on top of your building and we’ve been getting a lot of your calls, would it be possible for someone to correct the sign or just paint over it?” This is where I get told that’s it’s MY problem, and they don’t have the time to deal with it” Click.

Oh, Ok..now I see…. So I figure it won’t take long to sort this out. I start taking appointments. I tell a lady we’re having a special on tires, I can get her a complete set for $75 ($200 was average). I get a guy that needs a complete rebuild on his transmission, and how soon can we do it. I tell him that since we aren’t very busy right now if he can get it in the shop by noon, I have a guy that can have it done by 6p the same day, and It’ll only cost him $750 (super cheap by the way).

I do this maybe 20-30 times over the course of a week or so. The calls become less frequent and as I drive by the following week, I noticed that the sign is now just plain white. I’m pretty sure that all in all I probably cost this guy about $10,000 or so in pissed off customers who showed up thinking they had an appointment and a great deal.”GrumpyGuy_13

Satisfied? Did that get your ***** pumping or what? Some people are capable of doing some really sucky things.

Try not to get caught in the crossfire, but do let us know if you’ve got any delicious stories to share!