People Entertain Us With Their Splendid Revenge
14. Karen Gets Her Donuts Stolen
Don’t act crazy in a freaking drive-thru.
“This isn’t my petty revenge, but I was a witness to it.
As you all know, a lot of 2020 graduates got screwed over when it came to, you know… graduating.
To lift our spirits, Krispy Kreme decided that, on national donut day, every 2020 graduate who could prove they were a graduate with a cap and gown, grad merch, a diploma, etc., would get a free dozen donuts.
There is ONE Krispy Kreme in my town. Additionally, you should not underestimate the will of t*************g adults and their desperation for free donuts because, my God, there were cars in droves, wrapping around the Krispy Kreme and into the road for free donuts.
Now, I need to describe the Krispy Kreme in order for this to make sense. There’s a tiny building, and there are two entrances, one closer to the drive-thru and one to the parking lot.
Due to the overwhelming amount of customers, people were entering and getting in line through the parking lot entrance and wrapping around in a zig-zaggy-like line around the parked cars.
My sister and I were waiting in line like good noodles, but as we inched closer to the front, this Karen-esque obese woman in a muted, orange jeep rolled up beside us through the drive-thru entrance. We laughed. No way was anyone gonna let her in, because like I said, young, broke adults and free donuts. Plus, some of us have been waiting there for over an hour, so if Karen here thought us ravenous children were gonna just let her scooch on in, she was SORELY mistaken.
Well, Karen didn’t stop trying to merge in.
And what you’ve yet to know, readers, is that my sister takes NO nonsense from the people who think they can just ram little cars over and get their way. So, she floored it and got on the butt of the car in front of us, glaring at Karen. Karen is screaming at us, blowing on her horn, and inching closer and closer.
Insert a what the heck look. Suddenly, Karen floored it and screeched towards the passenger door where I was sitting, slamming on the brake just as her car was about to hit us. Both of us, and probably a lot of other people, screamed “WHAT THE HECK?!”, but she continued to lay on her horn, claiming we cut her off.
I decided we should not engage in crazy and ignored her.
My sister, however, is not like me. She was boiling that this woman almost hit us. Karen had merged in behind us because I guess the car behind us didn’t want to be almost hit like we were, and Karen refused to back up. So, she rolled down the windows. I’m like “B, don’t do anything stupid. She’ll rear-end us.” and B said, “Let her; she can pay for it then.”
Karen wanted to order special donuts, apparently, and was being stupidly specific with each one. Or at least, that’s what little I heard over my sister’s petty revenge.
B had pulled up a playlist of “graduation music.” You know, the type they play as you walk across the stage to freedom (or to a 9-5).
And watching in her rear mirror, every time Karen opened her mouth, she cranked the radio as loud as it would go, drowning her out.
Karen would lay on her horn demanding we shut up. B would turn it down. Karen would start to order again. B would turn it back up. I was laughing hysterically for the few minutes it lasted, and B was grinning until I said, “Listen, B, the people behind us want their donuts.”
Reluctantly, B gave in and rounded the corner to get our donuts.
We could hear Karen screaming her order and how “THEY BETTER GET THEM RIGHT!” As we pulled up, they asked for proof, and the girl said, “One dozen donuts, gotcha!” and ducked back inside.
We waited. Karen rolled in behind us. A different worker appeared at the window. She leaned out. “Did you get helped?” she asked. “Yeah,” I answered. “We did. We’re just waiting.”
The worker glanced out of the corner of her eye at the orange jeep. She looked at us, then back at Karen. Karen blew on her horn again, likely demanding we hurry up. It was like a lightbulb flashed, and a grin spread across her face.
“Here you are!” she exclaimed, passing two boxes of donuts through the window. “Enjoy and congratulations!”
My sister and I were too stunned to say anything, assuming she saw the two of us and presumed we were both grads.
So, we took our donuts and left, laughing at our good fortune.
Wanting to eat a donut, I popped open the top box and gasped. A special 12 dozen donuts. I was staring at it, then glanced at B. These were specifically ordered, not an assorted dozen, nor were they the special 2020 box that we received as me being a grad. On top of the box was written “Special Order.”
“B,” I said, a quivering laugh escaping my lips. “We stole Karen’s donuts.””
13. Lesson Learned: Don't Treat A Good Employee Like Garbage
“My last job was by far the worst one I’ve ever had. Let’s just say I worked for a franchise that specializes in personal care that often involves prolonged physical contact between providers and clients. I was initially hired to be an office administrator because I wanted to get some experience working in a more business professional setting, as it is the major that I’m currently attending school for.
Right away, things started going in the toilet. In my first week, a few things became very clear.
I received little to no formal training. While I was shown around and where stuff was and things like that, most of what I needed to know were things I had to teach myself.
They did train me extensively on pushing sales but not on how to, ya know, actually do my job.
I was being put on the front desk for a while to learn that position before “transitioning” into my office admin position. Spoilers: they never actually transitioned me; I was just expected to do both.
The assistant manager left right at the end of my first week, and it was only the first, of many, many people coming in, and out. It was the highest turnover I’ve ever seen at a job.
These were problems that I probably should have walked away from but didn’t because I really needed the experience, mostly because I really liked my coworkers and had a great boss.
Now when I did the initial interview, I knew I wasn’t getting the biggest pay increase from my last job, but I made it very clear that I was going to need health insurance after 90 days because I literally can’t live without it.
I have a major illness that requires medication daily for me to function. I was currently insured by my other job, and I was planning on staying with them long enough to transition me to this new job. They said that was their policy and that HR would help me set it up after then. I thought that’s great! Awesome! Boy was I WRONG.
You see my work was a franchise, and about 3 weeks after I was hired, we were bought out by a different company. Let’s call this company Finch.
Now everything seemed fine during my first 90 days, but then a trifecta of things happened just after those 90 days was up.
First, I broke my leg and was unable to continue working for my first job because it required me to stand all day.
No big deal, right? I had my new job where I could sit, right? WRONG. Second, I lost my health insurance from that first job because I hadn’t signed up again because I was going to transition to this new job’s health insurance. Cool, right? NOPE. Third, I was told under the first company (the one I was hired under) that it was 90 days before health insurance, but under Finch, it was 6 MONTHS.
I was LIVID. This was a huge condition for my working there in the first place, and HR basically said, ‘Sorry, it’s the policy.’ I asked if they could make an exception due to emergency circumstances, and they refused.
This was legitimately one of the most terrifying, stressful, and devastating periods of my life. It put a huge stress on my marriage as I scrambled to figure out how to get insurance, all while working full time, going to school, and dealing with a BROKEN LEG.
Somehow, I made it through okay and got affordable health insurance out of pocket but was now paying DOUBLE what I had been.
This was strike number one.
Now I loved my boss and my coworkers, and when we finally got a new assistant manager, I loved him too. Let’s call him James. James rounded out the team, and we legit became a genuinely great one.
Our sales improved, everyone was happier, and even our turnover rate went down. James was a bit more by the book than our manager; let’s call her Anna. But after a little while, he became a lot more chill, fun, and just an awesome person. But of course, it didn’t last.
James went out of town for vacation and took a friend to another one of our types of stores.
He had confirmed multiple times over the phone, and in person, that he would be able to use his employee discount, but when he went to pay, they didn’t give it to him. He was angry that they didn’t deliver on what they said would be okay and got into an argument with their manager. He paid, left, and then contested the payment hoping to negotiate with the manager.
Well, that manager complained to corporate, who then took it to Finch, who then sent the district manager down to our location, and he was terminated.
Everyone was shocked, and we couldn’t believe it was over something so stupid. He had worked multiple franchises in our area for over 10 YEARS.
Soon afterward, our district manager became much more involved with the day-to-day operations. Let’s call her Tammi.
Tammi is an older woman and very obviously a born saleswoman. She was all sweetness, smiles, and supportive to your face. But she was ruthless, conniving, and nasty behind your back. She liked to talk about how “Finch is the best company to work for” and how she was “so proud of the work they did.” She was constantly trying to blow smoke up our butts while telling us she wasn’t.
Literally, she used that phrase all the time.
Anna was now having to run the store with no help, except, of course, from me. I was helping her out as best as I could, but I had limited abilities and no training as an assistant manager, so I couldn’t do much. Soon, the constant micromanaging from Tammi and all the extra work took its toll, and Anna left.
Strike two.
My coworker, let’s call her Sam, became the new “assistant manager” because we had no assistant manager and no general manager. Sam was hired after me, and I was technically next in line to become manager, but honestly, I didn’t want it, mainly because I could tell that Tammi was a nightmare to work with.
Now it was about this time when this whole worldly event was starting to make the news.
We were functioning as best as we could, but with both Anna and James gone, we lost a fair amount of our new hires. We’d been understaffed for a long, long time, and now it was worse than ever. I was finally given some authority and became a manager on duty, along with one other coworker, so that we could help run the place with Tammi rarely in.
So, the events of 2020 hit the U.S., and everything turns into chaos. Sam is GONE. She won’t answer her phone. She won’t reply to texts at all. I’m pretty sure she just couldn’t take the pressure anymore. We are getting little to no info from Finch, and I’m having to lead the team during this difficult time. We are all becoming increasingly more worried about what’s going on these days, especially due to the nature of our business.
Finch does barely anything to keep working conditions safe. They make us ask every client if they’re experiencing symptoms or if they’ve been out of the country recently, but that was it. Also, we had not been told if we were going to close, or if they would be helping us financially in any way. I become angrier and angrier the longer this drags on.
Our business involves prolonged, physical contact for HOURS every day. It’s a breeding ground for illness like this. And the fact that they weren’t closing when they should have was angering me to the max.
Then, we finally get told that we would be closing because the state was FORCING us to and that they would only give us one week of pay, and after that, we were on our own.
But they of course, still expected us to come back to work when called.
Strike three.
I. Was. FURIOUS. I had wanted to keep this job for at least one year to get enough experience to get a new one. But I decided there and then that I was going to use the time off to look for a new job. Which is exactly what I did.
So, here comes the REVENGE.
A month later, I was in the final round of interviews for my dream job. It’s a smaller, locally owned company that is offering close to double what I’m earning now, and I will finally get some experience working in a professional business environment and be able to work remotely if need be.
Then, Tammi calls me, and the conversation goes a little something like this.
Me: “Hey Tammi, what’s up?”
Tammi: “Hi OP. So, all signs look good for us to open back up in about two weeks.”
I was actually kind of stunned for a second.
Me: “Seriously? I know the Governor unveiled his reopening plan, but I didn’t think we qualified?”
Tammi: “We do qualify as a personal service under the Governor’s plan, so we will be opening up.”
Me: “But our work requires prolonged, physical contact! I really don’t think that’s safe.”
At this point, I can hear a bit of frustration in her voice.
Tammi: “OP, we are following every precaution and regulation that the CDC and other government agencies have outlined. I really need you right now, and I can’t open this location without you.”
And she was absolutely right.
I was the only person with any deep knowledge of the computer program we used, and the only one who had any sort of access to manager functions. There were only 5 front desk staff left, including myself. If I didn’t help her open, she would be screwed.
Too bad they weren’t there for me when I needed them cause now I wasn’t going to be there when THEY needed ME.
I told Tammi that I would help her open, even though I had no intention of actually doing so. I still hadn’t landed that job yet, but I was pretty confident that I would, given that I aced the interviews.
They had to delay the opening for another week than expected, and it was a good thing cause I still hadn’t gotten the good news about the new job and was really worried I would burn a bridge with nothing under me.
Then I got the call, and I got my dream job. There was nothing left for me to lose.
I sat in on our opening procedure Zoom meeting that lasted two hours and was giddy with excitement waiting for the day I’m supposed to go back to work to come.
The NIGHT before I’m expected to go into work, I send in my resignation via email and left a voicemail on Tammi’s phone.
She was royally screwed because there was no one else to do all of the work needed to open that location, except, of course, Tammi, who was also expected to oversee five other stores at the same time. The jerk deserved every second of misery I put her through after the way she treated James, Anna, and Sam.
So now, I’m working in what’s looking to be the best job I’ve ever had, and my best friend (who still works for that location) told me that not only did ANOTHER front desk person leave after they opened, but he was leaving as well.
He also told me that he very specifically told everyone about what a GREAT new job I had and how MUCH I was getting paid now.
I only wished I could have done more to that awful company, but hey, I will take what I can get.”
12. Getting Revenge On A Bully
And they thought they won. Ha, no.
“This is a story where I personally didn’t do the revenging but I got to bask in its glory.
When I was 13(f) I was one of the odd kids in school and I had attracted a couple of bullies. One of them was a boy who was twice my height and is now a dealer who lost custody of his kids to social services (small town).
He obviously had issues and I was one of them apparently.
He was in almost every one of my classes and I could never escape him. He made every moment of my life at school awful so I started to skip class and read books in the hallway whenever I had class with him and a teacher who ignored his bullying. Most of the school staff would leave me alone and the discipline team would ignore calls to pick me up because all I was doing was reading (they would check on me though).
I really started to struggle in class because I would never take it lying down but I hated the constant confrontation. I was labeled a trouble maker alongside him even though I was a great student when he wasn’t around.
One day we were in class together and he stole my bag from right under me and ran out of class. He came back ten minutes later and threw it at me.
He stole some change and my notebook was missing.
Now, this notebook wasn’t a normal one. I had won it as part of a cosplay competition and it was Bizenghast themed so no one else in my school had the same one. It was also filled with wedding dress designs I had spent hours on (I wanted to design and make them as a career).
Each design had taken me days to complete and there were 15 of them in there so far. I loved that notebook.
When he came back he claimed ignorance and laughed about it. I was devastated and tired so I left class and started to cry. One of my favorite teachers saw me in the hallway and took me to his office. We’ll call him Mr. Kickbutt.
This teacher was so fed up with this kid and that no one was doing anything about him bullying a girl half his size. He got up to leave and told me to move my butt because I needed to see this.
Mr. Kickbutt pulled the jerk out of class and another teacher to witness. Normally you can’t search a student’s bag even if they’ve stolen but there are two occasions on which you can.
Mr. Kickbutt told the kid that he believed he was carrying substances or a weapon on him and therefore needed to search his bag. This idiot had managed to leave a corner of a page of my very distinctive notebook in his backpack.
Mr. Kickbutt demanded to know where it was and this smug jerk told him he had ripped it all up and thrown it in the bin.
He marched us back to his office and made us wait outside while he made some phone calls. When he came back out we followed him down to the main hall.
There in the hall was a huge piece of tarpaulin laid out and one of the custodial workers with six full bin bags. The custodial worker ripped open the bags and started to pour them all out onto the tarpaulin.
Mr. Kickbutt then explained that the b******e was going to search through every single bit of rubbish and find every piece of my notebook. Then he was going to tape it up and return it to me with an apology otherwise he would personally make sure he was in suspension (ours was in a house across the road, we didn’t get sent home) for the next six months.
The kid instantly started to look through it.
Mr. Kickbutt made me stay and watch for ten minutes as this kid crawled on his hands and knees searching for it. Then he told me I could go home early. Ten minutes later, everyone else left class and started to go home. The kicker? Everyone had to walk past the main hall to leave the school, everyone saw him.
The next day, parts of my notebook were returned and taped up. Nothing could have replaced that notebook but watching that jerk crawl through rubbish made the next ten years for me. And every time I see him now, I just remember how pathetic he looked.
Thank you Mr. Kickbutt, you were the best teacher this town ever saw.”
11. Damage My Car? Wait Until I Get Ahold Of Yours
An eye for an eye, as they always say.
“When I was in high school, my first car was a cheap little Geo. I’d saved a ton working my butt off at the neighborhood pizza joint.
Obviously, it was nothing special, but it was mine and I was proud of it.
I lived in a very affluent suburb in the Midwest at the time though, and a majority of my peers drove much nicer cars — either daddy’s BMW or a BMW daddy bought for them.
I was a junior at the time, and there were a handful of bullies (seniors) who decided that because I drove a dated, inexpensive car, I deserved to be subjected to constant ridicule and harassment.
I was constantly being called ‘poor’ and laughed at for driving ‘such a cheap piece of trash.’ In reality, my family was actually decently well off. My parents could’ve bought me a brand new Mercedes if they’d wanted, but they came from nothing and wanted me to earn my first car.
Let’s call the leader of this bullying group Tad. Tad was utterly obnoxious to almost everyone around him, but usually got away with it because he was A) attractive, B) a straight-A student, and C) a talented player on every sports team our high school offered.
The whole conflict started one day after school. I was in my little Geo, in the line of cars waiting to leave the parking lot. Tad was in front of me, in his Audi A4.
When we were nearing the parking lot exit, Tad stopped to lean out the window and chat with some of his friends. I had to work at the pizzeria that day and was in a hurry, so being impatient, I sped around him.
Tad must’ve interpreted my passing him as some sort of hostile affront to his ego, and sped up behind me.
After finally turning onto the main road, he stayed right on my bumper and followed me to work. When I got out of my car, he leaned out the window and called me some names. I ignored him and went into work.
When I got out of work 4 hours later, I found both of my mirrors broken.
I didn’t have proof, but I knew it was Tad. Luckily, my parents felt bad for me and paid for me to have them fixed that week.
Next week, however, came the straw that broke the camel’s back.
It was a Friday and I’d stayed late after school working on a history paper in the school library. I happened to get out right after the lacrosse team had finished up practice.
When I came out to the parking lot, I saw Tad standing next to my car. What was he doing? Peeing on the driver’s side door. Filled with rage, I ran after him but he managed to get to his car and peel out of the parking lot.
At home, feeling defeated as I washed his pee off my car, I decided revenge was in order.
I didn’t know how, yet, but I knew an opportunity would come. And it did.
Two weeks later, word had spread around the school that this senior named Doug was having a big party the coming weekend. Doug was incredibly popular, and I knew Tad would be there. I also happened to know Tad would be driving his Audi there. And I knew where Doug lived, and that most of the people, Tad included, would be staying the night.
I enrolled the help of my two closest friends, Ben, and Josh who both hated Tad just as much as I did, though for different reasons, and they were more than eager to lend their ‘help’ when I told them my scheme.
The night of the party, we waited until 4 AM when we knew the party would be dead and everyone would be sleeping. We showed up wearing all dark clothes and plastic gloves.
We found Tad’s car, and much to our amazement (and glee), he’d left it unlocked.
We opened the doors and quietly went to work, trying to keep from laughing too loudly.
First, I peed into the air vents. I got out, and Josh peed all over the leather driver’s seat. Then, it was Ben’s turn. Now, let me tell you, Ben is a disgusting human being.
He’s a loud, funny guy, all smiles and laughter, but he’s also just gross. Constantly belching and farting. And it always smells so, so rancid when he does. He’s the type of dude who takes pride in that.
Ben pulls down his pants, and whispers, ‘I wonder if he’ll be able to tell I had Chinese food,’ squats next to the car, and proceeds to take a poop into his gloved hand.
The smell is immediately overwhelming and horrifyingly gruesome. It’s so potent you can taste it. Josh and I gag right away, frantically pulling our shirts over our noses and retreating from Ben’s vicinity. Josh can’t take it, runs over to a tree, and pukes his guts out. Ben laughs and says, ‘Oh my god that is SICK, sorry!’ While we’re watching from a distance in both horror and amusement, Ben takes his warm gift and just starts smearing it everywhere.
All over the door handles, the steering wheel, the air vents, the radio knobs… He eventually starts gagging and coughing and retreats himself, but not before wiping himself with the lacrosse jersey Tad had left in the back seat. We couldn’t stop laughing on the walk back to Josh’s house.
The following Monday there were a lot of whispers going around the school.
Here’s what I eventually learned happened:
The morning after the party, Tad discovered the nightmare in his Audi, in front of everyone else who was leaving.
He went into a rage, but apparently, almost everyone thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. When Tad’s parents discovered what happened to the car they’d purchased for their son, they also discovered Tad had been to a party and had been drinking.
I guess his parents were not cool with it – they took away his car for the rest of the year and Tad was told he had to ride the bus for the remainder of the year.
His parents eventually gave him the car back several months later, but no one wanted to ride in “The poop mobile” because of what happened, and because he never got the smell completely out.
Tad’s bullying surprisingly died down a bit after that. He didn’t mess with my car again.”
10. Credit Car Skimmer Gets More Than What He Bargained For
“This story starts off with a slightly less humorous fact…a few days ago I was on the unfortunate end of credit card fraud. The fraudsters decided to take my CC info and purchase $1000 worth of car parts from Philly and have it sent across the border to the city I currently live in, Vancouver, Canada.
Normally, this is where the story ends. Sometimes they get away with it, sometimes they don’t, but either way, my card is replaced and I continue on living my life. This, however, is where the fun starts happening.
I got a call this morning about a DHL shipment entering the country that required customs to be paid. Knowing I haven’t shipped anything with DHL in forever (they are the worst), I quickly come to the realization that it must be the fraudsters shipping their goods here.
“It can’t be!” I thought. Who in their right mind would use a stolen credit card to order something to their own house in the city the owner of the card lives.
After a brief chat with DHL about the customs fees I will not be paying, I manage to obtain the address the package was being sent to. I hummed and hawed about it but eventually decided the best thing to do was call the local police department and let them know what was up.
I told the officer all about the situation. That unfortunately I did not know what car the parts were for and that I hope this info helps them somehow in the future. He tells me that the chances are slim but he will swing by the house (it’s literally 15 minutes from my own) just to see if anything weird is going on and follow up with me if he needs to.
I thank him and go on with my workday.
About an hour later I get a call from the same officer, obviously excited.
“Hi OP, It’s Officer X. You will never guess what just happened. I was following up on the report and drove by the house. I decided to go knock on the door just to see if anyone was home and ask them a couple of questions.
A man opened the door and as we were talking, DHL drove up to deliver the package. Yes, that’s right, the exact package we had been discussing.
The delivery driver walks up to the door and says ‘Hi, is OP there?’ to which the man replies ‘Oh yeah, he’s just downstairs.’
You can imagine my surprise!
‘That’s pretty funny because I just got off the phone with him and I know for a fact he doesn’t live here,’ I said.
The guy, no joke, looks me dead in the face and goes
‘Oh whatever, the package is paid for.’
I chuckled and turned to the DHL driver to tell him he should leave because I need to make an arrest.
I’m calling you while I drive back to the precinct, thought it might brighten your day!”
I still cannot believe that they caught the guy, but thought it was a story that was too good not to share.”
Another User Comments:
“Ubiquitous similar story after this post blew up:
In college, I rented an apartment in a building near campus. At the end of the year, I was about half packed and left for work with 75% of my stuff in piles in the living room. I must have neglected to lock the door but in a locked building this was not unusual. When I got home the tv, computer and Xbox were all missing but the apartment was otherwise untouched. I looked around the building and was really disheartened, a lot of people were already packing up cars and trucks to leave for the year.
I asked a few people and even looked in some cars but no luck.
I called the police to report it and got paperwork filed but didn’t expect any justice. So it goes.
The cop noticed my cash was untouched and figured it was another student but doubted we would find anything. He told me he would walk around the building and let people know to be careful since so much valuable stuff was left unsecured during move out.
Later that night I got a call from the cop, it turns out the thief who lived one floor below had left my stuff right inside his door on the kitchen table and when the officer came to warn him about a possible thief in the area he had probable cause to come in and check the serial numbers. (Helpful to keep copies of those).
He made the arrest right then.
It was still months before my things were returned. But justice was done… well a plea bargain to some misdemeanor was done.” SansSelf
9. Put Your Trash Bin On My Property? I'll Make Sure It Never Gets Picked Up
“I closed on my first home at the beginning of July, met all of my neighbors since it was new construction and the whole block closed on the same day. Everyone seemed nice enough and my immediate neighbors were a nice family with two younger kids.
I felt relieved because I had been worried about having a bad neighbor at a townhouse. That was until the 4th of July when I came home from dinner with my mom and saw a tent propped up from one edge of my immediate neighbor’s driveway to the edge of my driveway; approximately 4 feet into my property. They also had hung a clothesline with wet clothes across this tent which just made it worse.
I didn’t say anything though and figured maybe this was just a celebration of the holiday and their new home and to their benefit, the tent hasn’t been brought out again.
Fast forward to the first trash day that next Friday. I went outside to put my cans out before work (sadly a chore I’ve never had to do and do not enjoy now that I have to) and see that my neighbor has their can protruding 2 inches into my driveway which again is 4 feet away from the edge of my property line.
I do understand that space is tight but honestly, they could put a can on each side of their driveway if they wanted to respect my space. But, I really don’t mind the can being in front of my property as long as they aren’t in front of the driveway. I have a grassy area on the other side of me so I am able to put both of my cans over there.
Anyway, I had to move their cans over so that I could leave my driveway and it has been happening every other week since then.
Last Wednesday, they put their cans out early I’m guessing so that they could go out of town for the long weekend. I pulled up to my house and decided that obviously, they aren’t noticing that I am moving the cans out of my way or don’t care.
So, this time I moved the cans over and decided that I would choose pettiness. On Friday morning before work, I moved both full cans up to their garage where they wouldn’t be emptied. They were overflowing with trash. Hope they didn’t need to get rid of any trash this week and I am looking forward to trash day!”
Another User Comments:
“Sounds like they are trying to shift the property lines.
Make sure they know the line isn’t your driveway.” FeckinPenguins
Reply:
“That’s what my mom said too but she is very suspicious of everyone’s actions whereas I am optimistic and think they really don’t have much space. In a perfect world we could become friends because their dinners smell amazing and I would love a plate.” sneakysneeza
Or go ahead and put one at either side, way up front, kind of like 'framing' your front yard
8. Never Change The Toilet Paper Roll? Go Find Your Own
“My roommate has NEVER replaced the toilet paper onto the actual dispenser… by never, I mean that in the five months I’ve lived with him, without fail, he has left it there for someone else to do EVERY single time.
At first, I’d just put it on the dispenser because it happens sometimes, and it wasn’t that big of a deal… then, I started leaving it there, thinking that he’d get the message. He never did. This is a common theme across many, many domains. There are some things that he just doesn’t do or know how to do out of ignorance, laziness, or lack of care.
I honestly felt a little bad for him and just let the toilet paper thing go.
The mild annoyance turned into an actual problem when one day, I bought toilet paper and left it on the staircase to take upstairs. I ended up going to sleep and the next morning, I went to take my post-coffee poop. I reach for toilet paper and it’s not there.
I reach behind me for the backup roll that we keep on top of the toilet. It’s not there. There’s no toilet paper in the bathroom and he had just used it before leaving for work. So, after I deal with things, I take the toilet paper on the staircase and put it in my closet.
The next day, I hear cursing and whisper-shouts from the hallway.
He’s MAD – running around the house, slamming drawers, and looking for toilet paper everywhere. He really can’t believe that there isn’t any when he needs it. He’s basically throwing a full-blown tantrum out in the hallway now. He sends a text in the group message asking about the toilet paper he saw on the staircase the other day and due to his reaction, I say that I don’t know where it is.
The cursing escalates and he screams “I SAW IT ON THE STAIRCASE” and “you jerks.” I send another message to “please replace the toilet paper if there isn’t any in the bathroom” and he loses it, shouting, “SCREW YOU! I BUY TOILET PAPER ALL OF THE TIME.” Which, one, is beside the point, and two, untrue. He finally went out and bought some. I just sat in my room quietly laughing at his tantrum over realizing we were out of toilet paper before he even used the toilet.
After he left, I put the toilet paper in the downstairs bathroom and when he asked our roommate later, he told him it was there.
Immature? Maybe. I feel like it’s just a natural consequence of rude behavior that’s been previously tolerated.
To clarify, the intention wasn’t to make him question his reality about there ever being toilet paper – I did feel bad about this potentially happening.
I just decided to keep the rolls that I bought in my closet for personal use, and his terrible reaction (cursing me out, screaming) the second he didn’t have any for his own use resulted in me not wanting to give it to him. I didn’t deny there being any.”
Another User Comments:
“Very telling that he saw the TP on the stairs but intentionally walked past it and waited for someone else to bring it up and put it on the holder.
So when he bought the paper did he put it on the holder?” -lamppost-
Reply:
“Yes, he did. It hasn’t been a problem since. He really just needs to be taught these things, but it’s irritating when it’s constant and when he replies so negatively.” Living_Newspaper3773
7. Try To Screw Us Over On A Group Project? We're Way Too Smart For This
“A little under a year ago, I was just a wee junior in high school.
It was just the time around the end of the year to where teachers would assign stupidly long and hard group projects due about a week before the end of the school year. There was this one teacher who never really liked me, though my efforts to try to get on their good side were for nothing. I did my dang-darndest best to try to excel in their class but to no avail.
I still managed a B+, but not what I was hoping for. And whenever I would review her rubrics, there were parts where she would dock me 2 or so points per section just for forgetting a single period in a single spot. She wasn’t my English teacher. Tesha and Daisy are also coworkers at our workplace. I’m also on the autism spectrum which makes it exceedingly hard to put my words through unless I know what I’m saying.
So, I’m in my history class with Mrs. B. She goes over the rubric for our group project. We would be put into groups of five. My friends all went together, but there were too many for a group with all my friends. Since I had 6 friends, that only gave me Micah, who was a chill dude but was always seeming like he had something to hide.
Didn’t matter to me at the time. Time would play my hand.
The rest of my group consisted of my brother, Tesha, and Daisy. I had a solid plan for our group project and thought it was more than fair for our group. The way it worked is that each person had something individual they would do and then contribute to the group paper. The way I split up the work was very fair.
It was an even amount of work between all of us, giving myself and my brother a little bit extra to do (group project chivalry, and my brother was cool with this).
We created a joint Google Doc. Tesha was the owner of the doc and invited all of our group for the doc. However, after each day she would keep inviting us to the same doc.
I thought it was weird because half my emails were just her inviting me to the google doc.
It didn’t matter. We got to work.
A few days go by and we’re almost done with the project. Tesha and Daisy have a few things more to complete, and we would be done. But then, I’m asked for my first and last name by Mrs. B.
That’s never a good sign.
Tesha and my brother come over too as they were called over.
Mrs. B: ‘OP, I called you over here because you’ve been accused of not doing any work towards the group project.’
Me: (in shock) ‘Uh… what?’
Mrs. B: ‘Tesha’s told me that you’ve not contributed towards the group paper. I assume that you’ve been doing some, at least?’
Tesha: ‘No, Mrs. B. OP AND MB have done no work whatsoever and left it on me and Daisy. We’ve been falling behind in other classes because of his negligence. Micah did his work.’
Mrs. B: ‘OP, you do know what academic dishonesty is, correct?’
Me: ‘That’s… simply not true! I’ve been doing all my work right here!’
I pull up the google doc.
I pull up the history of work done.
That’s when I realized why she was sending invites every day.
She was taking MY work and copying it, then creating a new doc with the SAME NAME and pasting it there. Since Google doesn’t know where the original info/work came from, it was showing that SHE was the one who did all of MY work.
Daisy did the same thing but with my brother.
Me: ‘Mrs. B, I swear, all of this work was mine. I’m the one that did this work!’
Mrs. B: ‘OP, I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a 0 on this project unless you can find some way to prove that you otherwise did some work. If not, you’re going to go to Mr. K and discuss punishment.
Your parents will be called too. Get to work.’
I. WAS. ANNOYED. Tesha got away looking all smug. I knew what I had to do now, but then, I was so angry and sad. I contemplated whether or not I should keep working on this. MB was also feeling the toll.
Mrs. B then called my parents and let them know what I was accused of.
I was punished and had my laptop taken away immediately. I just remember sulking in my bed watching RSlash stories because they were entertaining. I then heard him tell a story of another poster just like me in a similar situation.
That’s when I got an idea.
I was looking over the google doc. I went into history again. I finished up my work. But this time, I copied my work and pasted it into a Notepad doc, so that I could have it in case Tesha made a new doc.
However, what Tesha failed to do is to delete every old doc that she created.
The proper work history was shown there.
You can bet that I screenshotted those histories AND put them into my Notepad doc. I also screenshotted my Gmail in showing that Tesha was creating a new google doc every single day. This would be the way I would show them that she was purposefully trying to sabotage me and my brother.
With my 12+ Sheets of paper worth of screenshots and the notepad doc printed out, I went to bed ready to destroy her and Daisy. My brother did the same, just with Daisy’s.
Tesha, Daisy, MB, Mr. K, Mrs. B, myself, and all parents involved are called into a meeting in Mrs. B’s classroom.
I. Was. Prepared.
Mrs. B: ‘Mr. and Mrs. OP, your children have been accused of academic dishonesty.
They’ve been shown that they’ve done none of their work towards the group paper. OP and MB, do you have anything to say for yourselves?’
Dad: ‘Yes, I’m aware. Boys?’
Tesha: ‘MB and OP have done no work whatsoever on the group paper, leaving it to me and Daisy. We’ve fallen behind in other classes as a result.’
Mr. K: ‘If you don’t have any evidence proving you did your work, you will be expelled. Do you understand, OP and MB?’
I was grinning from ear to ear.
I look at my brother, and he looks at me. Smiling at each other, and then to our screw-ers. They look confused, but continue with their ‘I’m the poor victim and these two 6′ 4″ boys are pushing their weight all on to me!!!!!’
We pull out two folders, filled with the evidence of our work. There’s an audible (thunk) as we put down the heavy folders.
MB and Me: ‘I believe the work you’re looking for is right here. And we have evidence that THEY were not doing any of THEIR work.’
Me: ‘As you can see here, these screenshots show that WE were the ones doing our work. Then, Daisy and Tesha would copy and paste our work into a new google doc, showing in the history that THEY were the ones that did the work when it was really me and my brother.’
Tesha: ‘Uh, no? The history shows that I and Daisy did the work.’
MB: ‘Really? Then why did you create 17 NEW google docs? Every day of the project? And why would there be only short bits from us but HUGE blocks from yourself and Daisy?’
Mr. K: (leaning forward) ‘OP, enlighten me real quick. What is this?’
Me: ‘As you can see, sir, I’ve done my work every single day.
We started falling behind on due dates so I and my brother were the ones that had to fill in Tesha and Daisy’s work. They then copied what we had done, created a new google doc as shown through my Gmail inbox history, and pasted it and called it their own. At the end of it, they had GIANT blocks worth of text by the end of each day while Micah had moderate blocks and me and my brother with nothing that was claimed to be ours.’
MB: ‘I have my evidence here showing that Daisy has done the same thing to me. Tesha’s the owner of the doc so I have the Gmail history too.’
Mrs. B: ‘That’s impossible. Tesha showed me that YOU didn’t do any work! How could you have done any?’
Me: ‘Because she created a new google doc EVERY. DAY. She showed you the finished product AFTER she had copied and pasted our work.’
Mrs. B finally gets the message. She turns to Tesha and Daisy.
They. Are. Sweating. Bullets.
They thought that they were in the clear. They thought that they were going to get away with screwing over me and my brother. They’re sputtering, calling us liars, and overall throwing a fit. Mr. K silences them by holding up his hand.
Mr. K: ‘Do you have ANY idea how much trouble you’re in?’
Me: ‘I’d also like to point out that before we started this project, we came together to discuss who would be doing what. I PURPOSELY gave myself and my brother extra work to do but within the context of everyone else doing the rest of their project work. It was MORE than fair.’
My parents look at us. They’ve also been on Tesha and Daisy’s side.
Now with the evidence, their faces were filled with guilt. I didn’t want them to feel guilty, but I still didn’t like that they took their side instead of me and my brother’s.
Their parents (Daisy’s and Tesha’s) also accuse us of lying about the screenshots, but then I pull out my Notepad paper with ALL the work I’ve done. This was the proof to show that this INDEED was my own.
Me: ‘This Notepad doc has ALL of my work on it.’
MB (pulling out his own): ‘This has all of mine. We were the SOLE people that did 80% of the work outside of Micah.’
Tesha and Daisy are done. They’ve lost, and they know it. Mr. K breathes in. Then out.
Mr. K: ‘OP and MB, you are free to go. I’m so sorry for all of this.
Thank you for showing the truth.’
My parents, my brother, and I all walkout. Mrs. B isn’t happy but has been proven that we were, in fact, the ones that did the work. Our parents apologize to us EXTENSIVELY and treat us to our favorite restaurant as a way of saying sorry and excellent work done.
We held our heads high from there on out.
We got our A- and Tesha and Daisy are given an F and expelled immediately from the school.
But it doesn’t end there. No, no it does not.
Remember, Daisy and Tesha were our coworkers. I learned through our other coworkers that the reason why Tesha decided to screw us over was that we wouldn’t cover her shifts.
My brother and I have covered at LEAST half her shifts because they didn’t EVER want to work.
But after the incident with our project, she absolutely HATED us now and would try to pawn off her work onto us.
We maaaaay have gone to our bosses (they’re husband and wife owners) and told them what happened with the proof. We told them the story behind it and told them that they also never show up for their shifts. I show them text messages between me and Tesha that show she was trying to bribe me into doing work by offering to do it.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t fired… yet.
You see, the text messages WERE able to get her fired. Not any of my project work. They (the owners) care about honesty, but if it’s outside of work, they can’t do much except keep an eye on them. The project was to have them keep watch for her behavior.
Then, Tesha leaves for a trip up north. Without telling anyone about it.
My manager, who’s the owners’ daughter, is an AWESOME person. She takes nothing from anyone and everyone.
Tesha decides that instead of showing up for her shift, she would leave. She asked for someone to cover her, but no one was able to.
The following conversation was over text.
We also have 4 new people: 2 other coworkers and the owners.
Tesha: Okay someone helps me out here.
I’m up north today. I’ve been asking since the beginning of the week for someone to cover me.
My manager finally decides to put down the foot with permission from the owners.
Manager: Tesha, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been asking. If no one says they can take your shift, then YOU show up to work. You don’t go up north and make YOUR shift OUR problem.
PERIOD. It screws over everyone when you continuously call in unavailable to work or don’t show up for your shift. Everyone has to suffer because YOU failed to communicate your availability, and when you make plans when you’re scheduled to work.
Coworker1: OH D**N.
Coworker2: OH D**N.
My brother: Hey Tesha.
Me: I would’ve come if I had my driver’s license and if my brother didn’t work today as well.
Listen, though, Tesha. I personally never have had to cover as many shifts for me for as many as you ask of us.
My brother: I know it sucks when you have an event scheduled and no one can come in to take your shift, but you can’t just opt out of work.
Me: What my brother said.
My brother: It’s your responsibility to show up for work when you’re required.
C1: Guys shut up she only has to hear this from the Manager, not the twins.
Me (upset that he’s taking Tesha’s side, but still has a fair point): Ok, I’ve said what I’ve wanted to say.
Brother: Lol, alright, I’m out. Sorry though Tesha. We just have our own complications with canceling plans to take your shift. We just couldn’t do it this time.
Sorry.
This was posted on our LIVE WORK CHAT. The owners IMMEDIATELY saw this and the manager blows up on her saying that this was the final straw and she’s terminated effective immediately. Since she worked at a restaurant, she doesn’t have anything to pick up that belongs to her.
If you’re wondering, Tesha managed to sweet-talk me and my brother into giving her another chance with being semi-friendly.
I and my brother heavily believe that people are deserving of second chances, no matter what happened (unless it was something really serious, like a murder or something of that nature). We thought that after what just happened with school, she would know that we would bite back if bitten first. We gave her her chance.
She went ahead to try to bite us again.
Some people might not be deserving of second chances, I’ve learned. Because they just do the same thing to try to screw you over.
Last I heard, she’s selling OnlyFans and her parents hate her. Now that she turned 18, she’s going to be charged rent which will be inflated because of what she’s done to me and my brother. But with her record, I doubt she’ll get a job at all.
And her OnlyFans aren’t selling.
Daisy, after learning about what she does, came up to our house (our addresses are in the yearbook, for some god-forsaken reason) and apologized to us personally and told us that Tesha was blackmailing her. Daisy was falling behind in a class and Tesha would tutor her under the condition that she would help Tesha screw us. Daisy was in such a bad spot that she had to accept and Tesha helped her pass in that class.
But after what Daisy had done to us, she failed history. She had to retake it.”
6. Unfaithful Partner Gets The Ultimate Set-Up
He finds out the truth while also embarrassing her in the process.
“So I’d been on and off with this girl for a while. She was smoking hot, solid 9/10. She and I just kind of clicked right off the bat and it felt very natural. She seemed pretty smart too, felt like I lucked out.
Boy, was I wrong.
We were at that awkward ‘friends but not friends’ stage for about half a year and then one night she drops the L bomb. I’m totally cool with it too, let her know I feel the same way. We went out for about a year.
Then it all gets weird. I post some stupid cute comment on her social media picture, just trying to be sweet, and this dude comes in telling me I’m too slow on the draw and he’s prince charming.
Red flags now, this guy sounds pretty confident. The ‘we’ve been talking about stuff’ kind of confident. I confront her about it and she insists they are just friends (yeah, right) and that they just started talking last month. I’m not stupid. I tell her either she cuts contact with him or I’m walking. She chooses the latter because ‘he’s a really great guy.’ Okay, whatever.
I’ll get over it. Just another woman who wants to waste my time.
About a month later, she comes back crying and insists she loves me, we are meant to be together, and that guy was such an insensitive jerk (he hooked up with her and bailed from what I understand).
I know she’s full of it but on the off chance she’s serious, I have her swear that she loves me and there’s no going back this time.
Enter Matt Vanguard (Dota 2 players will get the reference).
I set up a fake profile with a sizable library of handsome photos from some random guy I found online. Then I add enough info and friends to make it believable, then add her and start chatting her up on this fake account.
She swears left and right that this time is different, meanwhile “Matt” is scoring her number and setting up plans (I had an alternate phone number thanks to Text Plus, free text, and calling).
I’m so angry. It takes a real heartless person to sit there confessing their love to someone they’ve been with for a year and a half while simultaneously setting up plans with someone else they’ve never even met and know nothing about. Yea, I’m definitely burning this shallow bee with an itch to the ground. I even did my best to make “Matt” sound like kind of an idiot and kind of a jerk.
She dropped the “babe” word for example and Matt responded with ‘don’t call me that again, got it? I’m not your babe.’
So she’s going to school and takes the bus back and forth. Otherwise, it’s a 3-hour walk. I know her classes run pretty late, and buses don’t run forever, you know? So Matt is going to pick her up after school in his super fancy car and take her on the most romantic outing of her life, or at least that’s what she thinks.
He conveniently doesn’t get off work until about an hour after she gets out of class. She says that’s fine and she’ll just study until Matt arrives. Meanwhile, I’m asking her (as myself) if she wants to hang out and she says she has some extracurricular things going on and her friend is going to give her a ride home. Haha.
Screw you.
So she hits up “Matt.”
Her: ‘Hey are you almost here? If not I have to take the bus because they stop running soon…’
You can tell she’s a little annoyed.
He says: ‘Yea sorry, I had to do overtime. We were super busy tonight. I’m leaving now.’
Her: ‘Okay can’t wait to see you!’
Oh, you can. You can and you will.
Time drags by, Matt is now an hour late, he’s super apologetic and he’s speeding to the school to go get her.
‘Shoot! I just got pulled over…I shouldn’t have been speeding but I felt bad for being late.’
Her: ‘ ..Seriously? Wow…well, get here as soon as possible.’
Time keeps ticking and she is miffed at that point. Matt is hours late.
Finally, I break the news.
‘Sorry, I don’t go out with lying (bleeps).’
Her: ‘What??! What are you talking about?’
“This isn’t Matt. This is (my name).’
Her: ‘You guys know each other?!’
No. I set you up to see if you were still unfaithful. And you are. Then she has the nerve to tell me she wasn’t actually going to meet up with him.
Are you freaking kidding me?
‘Don’t talk to me anymore. And I suggest you start walking. I think you missed your bus.’
Months go by and she hits me up. She’s very apologetic and says the whole incident has been replaying in her mind. I tell her I appreciate it and I’m willing to be friends, but I have a girl (I didn’t) and even if I didn’t I wouldn’t go out with her again.
She says she understands. And the subject of our falling-out comes up another day, she says her 3-hour walk of shame was the worst she’s ever felt in her life. Good. It was the best I’ve ever felt in mine.”
Another User Comments:
“Personally, I would have shown up as “Matt” instead of texting her that you were both guys. A simple text saying, ‘I’m in the parking lot, my car is black (or whatever color of the car you are parked beside is)’.
Then wait for her and confront her in person in the parking lot.
Anyways, I can’t argue with the results. Good job OP!” BobSacramanto
5. I'm Going To Make Sure I Get Everything That Is Owed To Me
“I met her online. I was widowed, she was divorced. When I was growing up, there were hardly any kids I went to school with whose parents had divorced so there was a kind of stigma attached to it. But, I gave her the benefit of the doubt.
She didn’t get on with her ex (with whom she had 2 daughters). They’d separated after about 3 years of marriage.
The eldest saw her father occasionally; the youngest (born about 12 months before the separation) didn’t really remember him despite seeing him when her older sister visited. She and her 3 daughters (the youngest from a new relationship) moved in with me and my son 8 months later (we were engaged by this point).
One night, her eldest daughter left her mobile lying around. I know I shouldn’t have, but I saw a text which came from her father.
It said, “I’ll give it 6 months before she’s got his money and his house,” (my mortgage had been paid for 10 years previously when my first wife died). I told her about it and we laughed. We married 12 months to the day we met.
We also laughed a few times more about that text, and on our 6-month anniversary. I said, “shouldn’t you have my money and my house by now?” and we laughed again.
Less than 6 months later she left me, and after some snooping around after she’d moved out (but before collecting her stuff before moving into a new house), I found a few things out.
I didn’t realize just how much debt we (I) were (was) in. She’d been an undischarged bankrupt when we met (I knew about it) so all finances were in my name (although she was an authorized user, and had a bank card to my account).
I discovered I was in £25k debt. I had to juggle my finances pretty quickly to appease those who I had to pay on a regular basis to allow me to stay in my home (gas, electric, water, council, etc) and to those who I paid that I could do without, (white goods insurance, magazine subscription, etc.) I canceled.
Whilst going through her stuff that she’d left behind in her haste to get out, I found a few interesting pieces of info.
3 days before she was due to move in with me, she was due to attend court to answer a summons that she’d not paid her council tax for the whole of the 12 months before we met. She’d also told her council that her eldest daughter had “moved out” on the day of her 18th birthday despite the fact that she hadn’t (there was a 25% reduction for single adult occupancy).
Her middle daughter also “moved out” on her 18th birthday (she hadn’t) just after we met. She also hadn’t paid her water rates for the previous 12 months. I was beginning to understand just what kind of person she’d been.
She didn’t change her email password (which she’d told me) so for quite some time, I was checking her mail. I didn’t act on any of it, I just read it.
She hadn’t told me why she left, so I was hoping to find some evidence of her being unfaithful. There was nobody else (and I know that to be true 7 years later), but what I did discover is that she’d been applying for credit cards with higher-than-normal interest rates (aimed at those who had poor credit ratings because of, amongst other things, bankruptcy) and also payday loans.
One day, my home phone rang. I answered and it was a robotic voice. “This is a call for (metallic name). If you are (metallic name) press 1.” I couldn’t work out what “metallic name” was saying, but if you’re calling me, I want to know who you are, so I pressed 1. A moment later, a human voice came on the line and said: “Is (redacted) there?” I said no she wasn’t.
She’d walked out on me and obviously not bothered to inform you. She also hadn’t told you that we were married and that she now had a new surname. “Ah no matter, we have other numbers for her.”
I said that if any of those numbers began (and gave him the dialing code for her previous address) or end with (and gave him the last 3 digits of her mobile number) then there was no point in dialing them as they were no longer valid.
You could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“But I can give you her current home address if you like?” I said, and his voice changed to a level that it might be if he’d won the lottery.
“Oh that’d be great!” he said, so I gave him her new address.
A couple of days later, she sent an email to the company saying “You’ve written to me in my previous name but I have no idea what it’s about” so I knew I’d hit the jackpot (searching the company name/phone number, I discovered they were a debt collection agency).
Time to twist that knife further.
I phoned her old council and told them that she’d not attended court when she was supposed to as she’d moved in with me (and the reason she’d given to her council for giving up her tenancy was “problems with neighbors”, not “moving in with fiancé”). I told them that she’d been claiming single-adult occupancy when she wasn’t supposed to and gave them her current address.
Her eldest daughter had moved out of our house and moved in with her father some 9 months before her mother moved out, and I suspected that he wouldn’t have told the council that she’d moved in (he was living alone and claiming single-adult occupancy) and gave them his address (I’d dropped her daughter off there a few times before she moved out).
The council thanked me for that.
I then phoned our own council and told them that she was more than likely claiming single-adult occupancy with them. They asked why I thought that. I told them that I’d found some info online that suggested that, and that she also had the previous form so it was a fair bet she was doing it now. A few months later, while searching online, I found that miraculously, her two eldest daughters were “living” with her.
Whether they were or not, I didn’t care. She was now paying what she was supposed to.
I also phoned the water people and told them about her unpaid bill and gave them her new address. They promised to investigate too. I estimated that within 6 months of moving out, she’d managed to accrue somewhere in the region of another £10k of debt that she’d somehow manage to be able to talk her way out of.
We’d also been claiming benefits as a couple (that we were entitled to) that had been previously paid individually to us. When she moved out, I had to claim as a single parent again (and so did she) but we were left with an overpayment. Due to the inefficiencies of the staff in the department dealing with the benefit, it took me nearly 3 years, with the help of my MP (who is someone I consider a friend, having worked with him 20 years previously), and the Ombudsman to be paid what I was rightfully owed. Trouble was, the way the claim was worked out, she was also entitled to something too.
I knew she’d lied on the claim for the benefit too, and when the Ombudsman phoned me to tell me that the department had finally admitted they’d screwed up, he told me what I was owed, but the bad news was that she was owed more than me! I said that I didn’t consider that fair and that I thought she’d lied in the first place.
He said that he couldn’t discuss her circumstances with me, but the way he said it, I knew that I was right in my thoughts.
He confirmed it although he shouldn’t, so I asked why she was getting what she wasn’t entitled to, and that I’d fought for (and she hadn’t). He said that although she was legally entitled to it, the fact that she had a bigger overpayment than the funds she was due (that needed to be paid back) meant that she wouldn’t see a penny.
It’d be deducted from what she owed.
I said that the system should have detected when she made her new claim but had obviously missed it. He said I was right, and that the department had now taken steps, based on my dogged determination to prove I was right and that they were wrong, to make changes to the system to prevent it from happening again.
So one small guy caused the government to make a sweeping change. Did I feel good about it? You bet I did.
I think I can safely say that I got the revenge (and justice) that I was owed. If you owe me, I will do everything in my power (without the need to involve solicitors) to get it back.”
4. Be With Me All Of These Years Only To Betray Me? Let Me Ruin Your Favorite Video Game For You
“My partner and I had met online well over 6 years ago through an online game by the name of RuneScape.
It had felt like we had been friends forever. We both played the game very often and connected through it, eventually leading us to start a long-distance relationship. Things began to escalate as the years went on and we began seeing each other in person every few months or so. We were about 1,500 miles apart, so one of our main priorities for the future was moving in together and closing the distance.
My job had prevented us from doing that, but we had finally set a date for me to move in with him in December of this year.
Our relationship never had any serious issues and I was more than happy to have him in my life as he was happy to have me. As I got older, I began to play RuneScape less and less, as work took up most of my time.
He continued to play regularly, if not more than he had when I first met him. He could never really hold down a job and barely had an income, but I supported him throughout the years and even paid his rent from across the country after he moved out of his parents’ house a few years ago. I never really minded it because he was a sweetheart, but we began to have problems.
In November of last year, I couldn’t help pay his monthly rent. I was struggling financially after having to pay my own living expenses alongside car repairs and bills I owed to the state, and I just couldn’t afford to support him at the time. When I called him one night to discuss it, he freaked out and started crying that he didn’t want to live with his parents again.
I tried calming him down and even suggested that I could help him find a temporary job until I could start providing for him again, but he wasn’t having it.
He claimed his parents would abuse him if he returned home, which I know for a fact isn’t true because he and his parents have stayed with me several times. They’ve given him the world.
I eventually did calm him down but he remained passive-aggressive the entire night and we eventually hung up.
Because I cared about him, I reached out to his father the next day and informed him that he would probably be moving back home after his lease expired that month. I explained how I wouldn’t be able to afford to pay for his living for a month or two.
I asked if there were any local jobs he could work in order to… y’ know, MAKE AN INCOME. Apparently, a friend of his father’s needed help managing a small warehouse for his business and was looking to potentially hire my partner for the season. It paid $15/hr and was super easy (lifting boxes, sweeping the floors, and taking inventory). I brought it up to my partner that same night and he was not having it.
Not only did he not want to work in a ‘trashy warehouse,’ but he didn’t want to work at all. All he planned to do day in, day out was play RuneScape.
I brought up a few other job listings I had found in his area and he immediately shot all of them down as well. He then had the audacity to comment about how he thinks I should work harder and possibly work a second job.
I kept my composure and simply argued against it until we eventually hung up. I collapsed on my bed and cried for a good hour or two afterward because of the intense emotional stress I was under. Not only do I work 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, I’m also an industrial meteorologist. If I remember correctly, that’s a lot more work than playing RuneScape every day and using my Hulu account.
I really considered breaking up with him right at that moment, but I changed my mind and decided to give him another chance. Looking back on it, big mistake.
I messaged him throughout the night and we sort of made up, but I was still a little uneasy about the entire event. He had moved back with his parents by the time December had come and I began to help him look for jobs while he wasted his life away playing video games.
I eventually persuaded him to start working at a small retail store near his house and he thankfully began to make an income! I would still buy him video games and transfer him funds like normal because I spoiled him. Our relationship began to feel somewhat okay again.
Last month, both he and I put our dough together to fly him across the US to stay with me for 4 days.
We hadn’t seen each other in person since last summer, so we were both looking forward to it. He arrived and we had a great time for the first few days because he could actually take me out for once with his new income. Everything was perfect until I caught a glimpse of his phone’s lock screen while he was taking a shower.
‘When are you gonna leave herrrrr?’ the Discord message read.
I could have run into the bathroom and snapped his neck at that moment but I kept myself together as best as I could without killing him. I had never felt so used, disrespected, or hated in my entire life. When he came out of the bathroom, I gave him a fake smile, but I genuinely hated him from that moment on.
He could have dropped dead on the floor and I would have spat on him. I spent the remainder of the night watching him play RuneScape and I remained very quiet. He took notice of this and asked me if everything was okay, and I lied and told him I was fine.
When it came time to go to sleep, I let that jerk climb into bed with me and he tried initiating physical affection because it was our final night together.
I rejected as politely as I could. He was disappointed but went out like a light.
Immediately after he went to sleep, I reached over and unplugged his phone, and started digging through his messages with that girl. I feared that I had misinterpreted the message I had seen, but I was completely right after all. Not only had he been unfaithful to me, but he had also been going behind my back for nearly six months; leading me to believe that he hooked up with another girl directly after I couldn’t pay for his living in November.
I scrolled through probably 100,000 messages and wanted to vomit my insides out by the end of it. He had talked trash about me, claimed I was emotionally abusive (just as he had done with his parents), and even sent this girl my personal photos so they could pick me apart physically.
When morning came, I had slept in because of how late I was up reading his messages.
I woke up to find him on my computer playing RuneScape and eating my food. It was like our entire relationship had been wiped from my mind and he was now an evil stranger sitting in my house.
I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to tear him apart and kick him out of my house onto the street, but I didn’t. In fact, I gave him as much love and attention as I could muster that morning because I wanted to leave things feeling normal between us.
I dropped him off at the airport and we had a quick and somber goodbye before I left him forever, unbeknownst to him.
I drove back home as calmly as I could before crying my eyes out in a mix of complete anger and emotional pain. I ended up kicking my bedframe so hard that the wood split and I had to buy another one recently.
If only it were his face. I wanted to break his heart by the time he arrived back home, but I wanted it to really hurt.
I logged into our joint RuneScape account that we had made several years ago, where he and I would work on training the same account and raising it almost like our ‘baby.’ We had always joked that if we were to ever split up, he would take half of the account’s bank contents and I would take the rest. I took my half and transferred it to my main account before taking his half and giving it away to random people throughout the game.
Every last bit of it. Even items I couldn’t normally trade away, I used a spell to convert the items into coins which I then gave away as well. The bank was now empty.
It then occurred to me that the credentials to his main account were written down in my desk, as he would frequently have me train his Farming skill every so often.
I didn’t hesitate at all and logged into his precious 14-year-old RuneScape account. I immediately took all of the contents of his bank and sold it all on the Grand Exchange, a marketplace in the game. It took an extremely long time to clear out his bank, but he would still be flying home for about another 4 hours so I had plenty of time.
By the time I had sold/destroyed everything, I had four stacks of coins totaling over 8.5 billion. Now what to spend it on, hmm…
I wanted to waste his ‘life earnings’ on the most useless, stupid thing I could think of besides him. I logged back into my main account to reach out to a friend of mine that collects massive stacks of burnt food.
For the unaware, burnt food in RuneScape has no use. You can’t ‘unburn’ them, eat them, or even sell them on the Grand Exchange. They are, however, tradable amongst players. I’ve always poked fun at this guy for collecting burnt food, but I was now more thankful than ever to make his acquaintance in my revenge.
I asked him what the most obscure, unwanted item of the burnt food variety was and he replied “Burnt spider”.
Lo and behold, he had roughly 6,000 of the item “Spider on shaft (burnt)” in his bank that he was willing to sell me. Feeling generous with my ex-’s coins, I gave my friend a full stack of 2.147 billion coins and left a very happy customer. I dropped the 6,083 burnt spiders in his bank, but still had about 6 billion coins left to spend.
With the remaining coins, I decided to treat myself.
I went onto the Grand Exchange and ended up going on a shopping spree! The first thing I bought was 100 bonds. If you’re not familiar, a bond in RuneScape grants you 14 days of in-game Membership. After trading all 100 bonds to my account, I now have almost 4 years of Membership paid for me. I spent a majority of his coins on extremely nice armor and weapons, all of which went straight into my account.
He still had about an extra billion, so I spent it on the supplies I needed to level up an expensive skill of mine. By the end of the afternoon, he was left with a measly 150,000 coins in his bank, all of which I gave away to a guy cooking pizzas outside of the Exchange. Nothing was left, so I decided to pick up a pile of bones off the ground and leave it solely in his bank.
It might sound petty, but I laughed for a while.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is so cruel, you ruined the tens of thousands of hours he had put into a game! Well, it was time he learned that I can be a jerk, a MEAN jerk. On top of spending every last coin he had ever made, I leveled his Defense skill.
This may not sound bad; in fact, it sounds like a good thing! I helped his account progress, right? Well, no. Unfortunately for my ex, he had what players commonly refer to as a ‘pure’ account: meaning he never, EVER dared to level his Defense skill from Level 1, in order to keep the lowest defense stats but have high offensive stats. Well, not anymore. Have fun with your permanent Level 6 Defense.
Cycling through hundreds of possible forms of revenge in my head, I settled on getting rid of his house. It’s quite an achievement in RuneScape to have a nice house of your own, in fact, he had one of the nicest I had ever seen in the game. In order to have built it, he must have spent well over a few billion coins.
Too bad I had disassembled it all in a matter of minutes, deleting it all into cyberspace. And there’s no insurance either, he’s going to have to rebuy everything with his non-existent coins if he wants a new house. Bye-bye, Casa de jerk.
Scrolling through his friend’s list, I decided to act like him and pay a visit to his friends who were currently online and admit that I had been unfaithful to my partner and was fully proud of it.
If his friends hadn’t removed him by that point, I removed them. All of them.
Lastly, to add a beautiful little cherry to this revenge-filled cake, I changed his username.
You’re able to change your username once a month on RuneScape, so I changed his to let everybody know that he’s a dirty loser. I obviously won’t drop his username here, but I did the best I could to embarrass him with a 12 character limit.
He should be able to reclaim his previous username in about three weeks, but if he waits too long, I’ll be able to swipe it and slap it on a throwaway account of my own forever.
He sent me a very hateful and aggressive message later that night, followed by pictures of him crying. I wrote him a sincere message officially ending the relationship, while also scaring him away by threatening to ‘take him to court’ for sharing my personal pictures and possibly filing a cease-and-desist if he were to contact me any time soon.
I don’t plan on doing any of that, I just don’t want to speak to him ever again.”
Another User Comments:
“To anyone who’s unfamiliar with Runescape: 8.5 billion gold pieces in-game represents a real-world value of well in excess of $5,000.” panzercampingwagen
3. Take Away My Overtime? Watch My Performance Dip
“I was offered an awful salary and promotion for a job I was already doing (through increased responsibility by being a good employee with great job performance).
I turned it down. I wasn’t allowed to negotiate either, which I still did. Forget that rule. The counter offer was still far less than median which was the lowest I would go as I did a good job. It doesn’t look good when employees refuse promotions and near every manager in the company knows me. I’m the supply guy after all. So they tried taking my overtime away.
They had to be gunning after my pride in performance and not wanting to be fired. To note, I live a simple life and don’t care for the income, but my friends in the company are in similar positions and have families and need the income. I can get another job easy enough that pays enough for me to live off of. I turned it down because it’s not a lot of salary for a big company and don’t want to fuel mistreatment of its employees, my friends.
I complied with no more overtime, but I told them I needed the overtime to do a good job. As a supply guy for a large company, I order millions of value-worth of supplies throughout the year. I didn’t have time to negotiate big orders anymore. HR didn’t care, and my director boss didn’t think I’d let my job performance drop. I started doing bare minimum within my HR provided copy and paste job description and only 8 hour days.
I sucked! I did the role above my job title to begin with, but they would never acknowledge this, or they’d have to pay me for it. So now I was spending $20,000+ more a month than I used to. Boss knew, but what could he do? He screwed up. I’m the only person in the company with knowledge that can only be gained through experience to do the job.
I’m also critical to many operations. This is small figures to a large company and it’s not like my boss and HR would tell people they messed up in my handling. He also spent the personnel budget on hiring his friend to be a director, so I heard later. So I stuck around until I had trained a replacement since I didn’t want to leave on a bad note since my great friends I made in the company are the managers I worked with daily for years.
So then I left.
It’d be a bad story if this is was all. When I left, a lot of people were curious why. My friends, near every manager, weren’t afraid to talk as my boss wasn’t their boss. Without going into detail, I’m popular in my company for lower-level workers. I’ve saved the day a few times and do all I can to make their job easier.
Due to other complaints with HR and poor pay, me leaving fueled their discontent further to a noticeable performance level. This prompted an unofficial investigation by other directors. Our COO was the likely core of the problem. He hired my boss, his friend, and had a say in the HR director’s hiring. Other directors soon drove them out as it’s hard to like a job when your employees and coworkers hate you.
The HR director still works there and causes problems, but she no longer has a say in pay levels. A few managers and good employees got raises. There’s still a lack of base pay though if you ask me. Overall, I like to think I had a key role to play as I knew a few directors on a personal level. I’m back at college after dropping out the first time for medical reasons and still talk to my friends at the company regularly.
- For belief this isn’t made up since I’m not entirely detached from society, this isn’t your regular big company. It grew rapidly in the last 5 years, and many directors were promoted up and still busy fighting the “corporate” mindset take over from what I hear.”
2. How Does A Super Spicy Sandwich Sound, Entitled Jerk?
“This happened a handful of months ago, but I just thought of it now.
I used to work for a well-known sandwich shop that we’ll call Locomotive-Transport.
We closed fairly late (11 PM), and my boss was a lovely guy who decided that clocking in/out was a bad system and instead would simply stop paying us at 11:30, meaning we had to get everything put away, cash drawer counted, dishes done, and everything clean by 11:30 if we wanted to get paid for it. We had two people on shift at night, and we usually got it done by 11:15, assuming no one came late and that the computer worked at a decent speed (rare).
Please note “assuming no one came late;” this is important.
Personal rant: I don’t know why anyone would want a sandwich at 11 at night. I feel like if you wanted a sandwich that bad, you had enough time during the day to do it, but that’s just a simple wage slave’s opinion. All this to say, it was generally considered a b******e move to come within 15 minutes of close time.
So, one night, I’ve got my headphones in one ear, the drive-thru headset on the other, and I’m jamming and putting the food away. I’ve got everything put up and 5 minutes to close. I’m just wiping stuff down, excited to try and get out early. Usually, I would have turned off the open sign and the headset by now, but I got caught up in my j a z z and forgot.
Didn’t remember until I heard it: the dreaded beep.
To hear the beep after the food is put away and the utensils are clean is like watching a movie character where the serial killer catches them right as they’re dialing the last 1 of 911, only you’re that basic white girl that ignored the creepy sounds in the house way longer than any rational human would have.
It grips your soul and twists like God himself is wringing you out like the pathetic, little, wet rag person you are. People have cried, and I’m not ashamed to say I’m one of them.
Tonight was no time for tears, however. Tonight was the time for rage and anger. Tonight was the night for REVENGE.
I pressed the talk button and gave my spiel.
I’ll be using the names PB1 and PB2 for this exchange.
Me: “Welcome to Locomotive-Transport. What can I get for ya?” (I’m extra cheerful and loud to drown out my coworker’s sobs in the background.)
I can hear them laughing and talking to each other in that certain way that every fast food employee recognizes: teenage boys. Instead of my usual shivers of fear, my heart steals further and icy determination settles on my patented customer service smile cause screw dem kids.
PB1: “Um… give me a second…”
Me: “Take your time, just know we close in about 5 minutes.”
PB1: “Haha, oh shoot. Can I get a Locomotive Frat with uh… -cheese we don’t have-?”
I will save you the molasses-slow order this child put me through, but needless to say, by the time he finished, we were now two minutes to close.
Me; “Alright, is that all for you tonight?”
PB1: “Uh… yeah that’ll be it.”
Me: “Alright, total will be ready at the window-”
PB2: “Can I get a sandwich order? Light jalapeños. Make sure there’s not too many.”
Now, friends, I thought about this all the time. I absolutely cannot stand spicy food, but if I’m in the mood for pain, I’ll occasionally get one or two. Locomotive-Transport’s policy was 6, but 8-9 was usually what we put on.
Light jalapeño meant 3-4. You can all see where this is going, but apparently, P Squad did not.
They pull up and pay, paying no mind to the fact that it is now closing time. The sign is off; it’s 11:01. I’m beyond angry but still being customer service ready.
I pull all the food I need back out again and make the first sandwich as fast as I could, then I get to work on the jalapeño sandwich.
I make it with all the normal proportions, but looking into that giant bin of peppers, I let out the evilest cackle I could manage and plopped on as big a handful as I could. My coworker comes out of the back to find me full-on Joker laughing over this bread and jalapeño abomination. I struggled to wrap the thing; I was laughing so hard.
I quickly shoved the sandwich in a bag, composed myself, and practically tossed it into the car with a, “Have a great night!” The P Squad, not wanting to spend a moment longer than necessary with the common working class, speeds off without a word.
I smile, for even as I finish my work late, I am happy. I have toppled the Capitalist Giant; I have won.
I know it’s small, but it was like watching that witch Veruca fall down the trash chute in Willy Wonka. It didn’t benefit me at all, and the moment was short, but it’s that warm feeling of “screw you” that’s stayed with me for so long.”
Another User Comments:
“This is awesome. All the idiot kid had to do was take out some of the peppers.
No one was hurt, and it made OP feel better. Also, I feel like everyone who’s mad about this has never worked customer service. Good job Op, funny one.” hapaonthemainland
1. Go Behind My Back? I'll Get With Your Brother Behind Yours
“Eric (19M) and I (18F) had gone out for over three years, starting our junior year of high school. Everything was great, and we were so in sync that I really thought he was going to be my husband one day.
Now, I feel stupid for even entertaining that thought. I truly loved him back then, but everything changed when we both graduated and went to college.
We ended up having to move in with Eric’s older brother, Jared. Now, I could never tell Eric this but I always found Jared REALLY hot. This guy looked just like Eric with dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes except he was taller, tanner, more muscular, and kind of better than Eric at almost everything.
Jared knew all of this and was the prime example of an alpha male jerk about it. He never let Eric live it down, constantly teasing him and making fun of his grades. He would always ask Eric how he ‘managed to find such a hot piece of meat’ like me to go out with a loser like him. Jared would smack my butt when I walked by, and whenever Eric protested, he would ask, ‘What are you going to do about it?’
I would defend Eric sometimes, of course, but it honestly really, REALLY turned me on. Knowing that another hotter version of Eric thought of me like that and was living in the same house was really exciting. So when Eric made a big mistake and messed everything up, I knew what I had to do.
Eric had said before we moved in that he really wanted to join a fraternity, and I argued against it for a bit, but eventually gave up.
Eric had always been shy and quiet and I didn’t think it was a good fit for him. Well, I guess it suited him a little too well. He got carried away and totally hooked up with another girl at a party only one week into the semester.
I was absolutely furious when he told me. I was screaming and crying, but he begged and begged and begged. So I eventually took him back.
It’s really mean of me, but I still wanted to get back at him, and I knew just how to do it. I told him it was only fair that if he got to stray, then I got to as well. Well, Eric agreed and I told him the only condition was that I wouldn’t tell him who it was. He was a little whiny about this but I reminded him that all of this was his fault and he shut up.
The deal was going to be that I get to be with one guy, and he’ll never know who or when.
I knew Jared always came in late from partying on Saturdays, so when I heard the door open, I pretended to get up to go get water. As I walked into the living room, scantily clad and showing a lot of skin, Jared noticed me immediately.
He looked surprised.
He smiled and asked me if I had ‘finally decided to upgrade to the deluxe brother.’ I rolled my eyes and tried to shoot something about just needing to get my water and then get back to bed, but to tell you the truth, my heart was beating so fast. He was blocking the way to the kitchen, so I had to move past him.
As I did, he smacked my butt. He laughed, pushed me back, and growled in my ear. ‘Don’t lie to me. I heard about that loser being unfaithful to you.’ I tried to mumble something back.
I was HIS after that. I still haven’t talked to Eric about it, but I’ve been spending more and more nights in his brother’s room these days.”
