People Tell Their Staggering Stories Of Revenge
19. Steal My Girl? I'll Get At Your Sister
“Had a big group of friends from 13-18, when we were 17, one of them stole my girl.
He legitimately knew we were going out, he hooked up with her at a party. He knew I’d find out. Said to my face he didn’t care. ‘Tough luck, mate.’
It was her fault as well, of course. She’d been leading him on and was sober enough to consent.
So from that point on, our group of friends just cut this guy out of our circle. We stopped inviting him to stuff, and if he tried to hang out, we told him to screw off.
Mates that had been friends with him since Primary School just ignored him.
Initially, I was super proud of this show of solidarity from my bros. My best mate was actually seeing my now ex-partner’s best mate, and he split up with her because of her attitude about the whole thing, trying to defend her friend to him, and make him hang out with them as a foursome.
So, first summer back from Uni, we’re all 19-20. We see him in a local pub. I don’t know what to do, decide to try and be cool about it, and go up to say hi.
He tells me to screw off. I guess he blames me for all his friends cutting him out of his life. I don’t get the chance to explain that I, in no way asked them to do that, they just did what they saw as the right thing.
Two weeks later, we’re in the same pub, and I see his sister. She’s very, very attractive. I start a conversation with her about her brother, and how I feel bad about what we did. She says that it did really hurt him, but he’s got some new friends now (mostly from Uni) and is still with my ex, despite a long-distance relationship over the Uni semesters.
He won’t talk to any of us old friends though, which I think is a genuine shame – he’s known some of the guys since we were five.
One drink leads to another with this girl, and we end up back at her house. Her parents are away, her brother is staying at my ex’s flat (she has her own flat – didn’t go to Uni, got a job), so empty house.
We end up hooking up. Next morning, her bro calls round just as I’m leaving. The look on his face as he works out what’s happened. He goes from utter despair to absolutely mental in about half a second.
Eventually, I just had to leave. His sister finally managed to explain to him that it was nothing to do with ‘revenge’ or anything and that I was genuinely sorry for how we treated him.
I don’t know if she told him the whole conversation we had about how I’d feel bad as I didn’t want to upset him anymore, and she convinced me to come back to hers by saying she was her own woman, could make her own decisions, and he wasn’t due to be home at any time. If he hadn’t had randomly turned up, I hope he’d have never known.
He still won’t accept my friend request though.”
18. Bad Habit Of Lying To Her? Have Fun With Your Finances
“Man and woman got hitched when they were in their late teens. He is smart and a looker, she is brilliant.
They move from London to Hong Kong due to his job but soon she finds one that is satisfying. The workload is heavy and both travel constantly. But they are both soon on $500,000+ packages. He starts ‘playing around’ and the number of girls mount (I was always surprised that he could not cut anyone off).
She notes this and he is ‘reformed’ several times.
After 10 or 12 years he meets and falls hard for another professional. She is smart and a looker but not brilliant.
She is not willing to be a mere mistress. His woman finds out and meets with his side chick. They agree that they will give him a choice – his main chick or side chick. He goes to Thailand (and into the arms of yet another lady for consolation, I know because I had to hide behind a pillar so I did not ‘bump’ into them) to decide.
He informs his woman through his secretary he wants a divorce.
She, who has been in charge of the family finances, buys a massive house in London using all their savings plus a mortgage. She packs up the home in Hong Kong and ships everything (and I mean everything) to London. This includes his much-prized carpet collection. She takes the children out of boarding school in the UK and re-registers them in a school close to the new home.
On the day that she leaves (just 1 week after that call – yes all that in 1 week !!) she cancels all the credit cards (rendering his cards useless as they were on a joint account) and writes to the Hong Kong tax authorities telling them that she is leaving.
This triggers a tax bill for all unpaid taxes (3 years). In those days, the hubby is responsible for his partner’s taxable income.
He returns to an empty house, empty bank account, no usable credit card, and a massive tax bill.
When he sued to try to get his carpet collection and some funds back, he discovered that all he could get was an interest on the mansion of a house in London. This is because it was the family home and thus could not be sold. As for the carpet collection, it had been auctioned off to pay down the mortgage.
24 years have passed. To be fair to him, he is still married to the ‘girl’ (he has stopped playing around or become very much more discrete). He has still not gotten anything as she still lives in that home with a new man.
Revenge is best served cold?”
17. Think You're Hot Stuff? I'll Start Calling You The Nicknames Your Mom Gives To You
“So, in grade school, I and a majority of my friend group took the bus in the mornings. It was fun. We’d screw around in the back, etc. But there was this kid about two grades younger than us who thought he was hot stuff and liked to bully/call names/generally bother us. In particular, I got called “Raccoon” a lot. He’d dump his snacks in one friend’s hoodie pretty regularly and other basic dumb kid stuff.
In retrospect, he probably didn’t have any friends on the bus and wanted attention, but it was annoying nonetheless.
Now, my city has an annual week-long fair to boost tourism, and when it was still a new thing I’d go with my family. Well, I just so happened to run into this kid and his mom there. She recognized my mom from parent events I guess, and they stopped to chat; pretty normal. This kid avoided me the whole time this was going on, so I didn’t really care.
Until. It happened.
As I’m finishing up the game I had been playing when they walked over, half paying attention to my mom’s conversation, I heard his mom refer to him as “Peanut Pants,” and immediately, the conversation had my full attention. She kept referring to him by ridiculous, goofy nickname after ridiculous goofy nickname, and by the time the conversation ended, I had a full arsenal. As they turn to leave, I hear his mom use one last stupid pet name.
“Alright, Pumpkin Pie, time to go!”
You know that slow grin from the old animated Grinch movie? I’m pretty sure that’s what happened to my face. I made direct eye contact with the kid. I knew. He knew I knew. I could see it in his eyes.
But by the time Monday rolled around, he’d either forgotten it happened or figured I had. He started in on his usual nonsense.
What he didn’t know was that every single one of my friends now knew the dumb names his mom used for him; no longer would he be “Nate” at school. From that day forward, he was “Peanut Pants” or “Honey Bun” or “Sugar Bear.” That’s what Mommy called him after all.
It started with just the kids on the bus, but soon it spread. My friends and I watched as this poor kid slowly descended to despair.
He absolutely COULD NOT get away from this rash of awful nicknames. It lasted about a month before people got bored, but the damage was done. He never bothered us or anyone else after that month was over. No one would have taken him seriously even if he tried.
However, the one name I never told my friends about was “Pumpkin Pie.” And on the last day of that year, on the bus ride home, I gave him an extra-special send-off.
As he hopped off the bus, ready to start his summer, I opened the window and yelled as loud as I could: “SEE YA AROUND, PUMPKIN PIE!”
I’ve never seen someone whip around so fast in my life. He ran after the bus screaming for about a block, while my friends and I cackled as the bus drove away.
Looking back on it, I do feel a bit bad, but d**n if I didn’t feel vindicated at the time.”
16. Fine Me For Not Attending A Mandatory Ball? I'll Pay It All In Pennies
“Long story short, I joined a sorority when I was in college.
It was a colossal waste, and the girls were a bunch of jerks that singled girls out that weren’t “girly” enough, yet pledged me??
So, they used to have these “sister circles” where they would air out the issues and tensions, and 1 rule was you could not bring up the same person twice in the circle, but to my surprise, they brought me and my friend up 3x in a row and didn’t have an issue with it.
It was because we were “hanging out with the boys too much” (I’m a total tomboy; I don’t get along with girls. I only pledged because my guy friends said I would like it, but they were wrong.) I got up and walked away.
From that point on, I started to pull myself away from them more and more and only stayed for the alumni network, which I found out after graduating is basically non-existent.
After months of harassing me, making me feel singled out and horrible, and not including me in “sister activities,” I sent them a long email about how they were treating me like trash, hence why I will not choose to hang out with them anymore, but I wish to be associated for the “what I thought was LARGE alumni network after graduation.”
Fast forward to graduation time.
I was down to the last $80 I had for the next 3 weeks for food. They were REQUIRING us to go to this dumb Greek Ball because no one wanted to go, so naturally, they made it mandatory, and it was $30/ticket, which I genuinely could not afford.
When I mentioned I could not afford this and skipped the ball, they tried to charge me a fine of $50, or I wouldn’t be allowed to alum.
So, it came time for our alumni ceremony. I still told them to screw off over the fine because, again, I couldn’t afford it. They told me I couldn’t come because I had outstanding fines when 3 other girls also had outstanding fines, but they were allowed to go.
So, my other friend that got kicked out (they purposely didn’t invite me and our other friend to the vote because they knew we’d say no), I spent the night with her, and my mom helped me pay the dumb fine, and we went to the bank and exchanged it for pennies and spent the night cracking opening pennies into a jar… $50 of pennies.
The next day, I gave the chapter president $50 worth of pennies in like 6-gallon bags and told her to*******. She complained she had to stay up 3 nights in a row just to count it all out. Sweet revenge.”
15. Known Jerk Gets The Most Painful Handshake Ever
“Not really revenge for myself but for a couple of employees.
I had been recently hired as a supervisor for a cable company and didn’t know many people in town.
One day, I was asked by a customer service rep to come to the lobby and speak to an irate customer. Not unusual at all in my line of work.
When asked to help with a customer escalation, I would always ask for specifics before meeting the customer. She told me the guy was a regular who would come in often to belittle and berate her and the other employees over minor issues.
I asked why and if he was having a legitimate service problem.
It turned out that he was an egotistical toad related to some semi-important family and did not have a service issue but wanted to harass the office staff about programming content – something they had zero control over.
It’s not right to prejudge others, but I’ve met countless customers like him before who felt it was necessary to let everyone know their uncle was on the city council or that they played golf with the police chief.
Name droppers have never impressed me. Since I was new in town and had never heard of him or his semi-important family, I asked her to introduce us.
I’m 6’7 and 335 pounds with very large hands and blessed with an iron grip since birth. Size doesn’t mean that much to me, and I generally play it down, but I will use it if necessary.
I entered the lobby, made immediate eye contact, greeted him before he could greet me, and cheerfully introduced myself with my right hand extended.
His back was to the wall (poor defensive position) as I closed in. I clasped his hand in mine and tightened my grip until I felt his knuckles begin to pop. He leaned forward a little as he went up on his toes.
We maintained eye contact, and I kept my warm, friendly smile as I watched his fade. I let go of his hand and asked how I could help. He muttered that he had questions about programming, but they were not worth wasting our time on, and headed for the door. I thanked him for stopping by and invited him to come back and ask for me anytime he had questions or service issues.
I did what I did because the guy was a known jerk and I knew that no man would ever call to complain or cry because he couldn’t handle a firm handshake.
I ‘claimed’ my territory, and he never harassed the employees again.
I don’t like intimidation of any kind from anyone but will use it if necessary to stop harassment, especially from a town bully who gets his jollies by verbally abusing the employees.”
14. More Interested In Promoting Employees That Are Family And Friends? Time To Shut This Place Down
“I was working for a privately run correction facility (PCF for short and anonymity) and had been doing so for nearly 10 years. Names will be omitted for anonymity reasons, even though the facility is now long since closed down.
The pay was nothing like what state or federal employees get paid, and it was a constant show of being short-handed. I worked my way up through the ranks from being a front-line officer in the units to visitation Sgt, shift commander, and finally, security specialist. Bear with me, as this does take a bit to explain why the upward steps came. When I was a floor officer, I worked with others assigned to the same unit to get a general code of conduct going (i.e., what we would expect out of the offenders and what we would let slide within reason).
Because of this, the unit we worked on ran so well that most thought of the unit as the ‘easiest unit in the facility’ to work, but it was because all of us ran it nearly identical and were consistent and fair. Eventually, this caused my shift commander to move me to other areas as a test and eventually into visitation.
Visitation ended up being one of the most demanding positions I worked at the facility simply because prior officers had done so little and were so behind.
Along with my partner (which regularly changed because of the stress of the position), we got the visitation department up to code and went from taking 5 visitors a weekend to over 80 visitors a weekend on the regular. After doing this for roughly 3 years, I moved up to Sgt of visitation, which was less stressful as it was more supervisory and handling complaints as well as necessary policy revisions.
After nearly 2 years, I moved into shift commander. Here, I identified several issues with our overtime policy to include significant favoritism issues as well as corrected several reporting flaws that we were constantly being dinged on by PPMU (Private Prison Monitoring Unit of the department of corrections in my state). Because of this, PPMU personnel and I became very close as I worked with them on further clarifying and correcting some of the things we weren’t doing quite right.
This led to creating several spreadsheets in Excel that more or less made tracking overtime, vacation, assignments, and various other little managerial things far easier to track with barely anyone having to do much other than add their employees and fill out assignments for each shift. This allowed us to get away from favoritism and more easily spread the copious amount of overtime fairly, so everyone was doing their fair share instead of just a handful constantly being taken advantage of while also making it easier to explain monthly shortages.
Higher-ups loved it, PPMU loved it, and many of the overworked front line staff were delighted by it cause it allowed them to finally get some rest after 16-hour shifts while others hated it cause they couldn’t skate by under the radar without doing their share of mandatory overtime (part of the new hire agreement was signing you understood there was mandatory overtime, and refusal could lead to disciplinary up to termination).
During this time, we had some changes in administration and the creation of a couple of positions that were required as part of our contract with the state which was re-negotiated yearly (this is important to know later on). This included at least 1 captain per shift (originally, we had 2 lieutenants), a captain of housing (had none prior), a security specialist, also an lt position, and changing several positions from officer to Sgt level.
This is where the problems started and a number of the staff started filing complaints, because while the state-mandated these positions, the private company didn’t like it cutting into their profit margin and begrudgingly agreed. However, our administration saw this as a way to get their friends in cushy positions. Company policy says to promote from within, but our administration found ways to make it seem like most internal candidates didn’t meet qualifications while hiring old buddies into newly created captain and administrative positions.
I was eventually moved to security specialist and backup shift commander. My new role was creating facility-specific amendments to administrative regulations to ensure we were following the purpose of administrative regulations. This entailed how our equipment was managed, key set permissions, restrictive housing unit, visitation, perimeter security, and making sure all guest/visitors/vendors/volunteers entry policies were followed to include mandatory background checks. I also ended up taking over several other Excel spreadsheets that were required to show each department in the facility was accordingly staffed the required hours per our state contract agreement.
It was quite the handful, to say the least, and by closely following the administrative regulations, I was quickly making more enemies as a lot of the issues started showing how incompetent the administration was, namely the major, housing captain, and one of the other captains that were buddies the major got hired on.
As security specialist, I reported directly to the major, deputy warden, and warden as well as by extension PPMU.
We had regular meetings to discuss issues and how to remedy them, then it was my job to author the adjustments, so the major could review and sign them along with the warden before they went into effect. By this time, I was the sole manager of no less than 5 major Excel spreadsheets in the facility used in various departments. All of which I trained each in those departments, to include major and captains, as it was to eventually become their responsibility to manage them.
This included giving them encrypted passwords if those spreadsheets ever broke/corrupted as Excel is known to do on occasions. However, this didn’t happen and I was constantly the go-to in order to get them fixed.
After a couple of years of this in comes the private corp to renegotiate the contract and suddenly my position responsibilities get reorganized into their respective captain or major responsibilities.
At this time a new captain position comes open, and I put in for it along with several others with similar experience to me, and one that has absolutely bare minimum experience but is close friends with the major and another administration sitting on the hiring board. Needless to say, they get the position, and I get bumped to their old position as housing lt.
I ask my major why I can’t be moved back to shift commander where I can at least still work on all the policies and sheets I’ve made up to this point to which my major says to me “You aren’t a Captain, and we needed a Captain there. Not you. Just be happy you didn’t get demoted, and stop trying to be a captain.”
I smile and reply “Ok, but you do know if you move me to housing, I no longer have responsibility over all the work I currently do as that is all security-related responsibilities, and housing has different responsibilities, right?” It is important to note that at this PCF Housing and Security acted like two different entities from one another, and Security had final say over housing, but it was housing’s responsibility to address housing issues before coming to security.
This meant moving me to Housing Lt instead of back to shift commander would mean I no longer had any right to correct them when they weren’t following the policies I had written prior, and certainly meant I had no responsibility over any of the spreadsheets they managed.
“Well, that is how it works here,” the major replied. “You just didn’t get the captain position.
I’m sure we chose the best person, and there will be no issues. Just do what your new position is because you aren’t a captain; you’re a housing lt., and you will do only what is part of that position’s assignments.” At this point, he gives me the biggest grin as he has waited 3 years to ‘put me in my place’ for making his job harder by actually having to do his job.
“Ok,” I say and leave the room without saying any further.
Cue the nuclear revenge.
Now I had also submitted complaints of harassment and policy violations with updates as further incidents took place causing the complaint to stay perpetually open, and this was added to the complaint with documentation. This was only another notch to a long-going issue, one that various others I worked with have also joined in on as they had equally been railroaded, harassed, discriminated against (to include lost wages), and saw the Nepotism taking place.
It is important to know that the policy on Nepotism for this company included language stating that ‘Family and close friends could not have unfair advantages in promotion or job placement over qualified or current employees.’
Now it isn’t immediate, this change, but after a couple of months, I’m now working as a housing lt and taking care of my new responsibilities. I’ve shed all responsibility of prior spreadsheets, policy adjustments, and anything that doesn’t have to do with my immediate department.
It is about this time when things start to go noticeably wrong.
Even though I took the time to train, assign management rights, and give password control of all workbooks to the responsible department heads (most of which were the major) it doesn’t take long for it all to go to chaos. The new captain doesn’t know a thing about Excel, let alone any of the reporting software a shift commander has to use sometimes multiple times a day.
They are very lacking in knowledge of AR and quickly get various offender and staff complaints. The major isn’t keeping track of the spreadsheets he is now supposed to manage (contract compliance tracking and facility entry tracking) because he is just as clueless when it comes to anything computer related, and visitation is slowly going down the drain cause none of the other captains kept open communication with the Sgt/officers to help deal with issues and staffing concerns.
By this point, PPMU is very unhappy and demanding that these areas be brought up to compliance within 30 days or they will start to pursue fines against the company cutting further into their monthly profit margin by nearly $1,000 per day out of compliance for each issue on top of other fines for failure to fill contractually obligated positions. Needless to say, these are fines that add up very fast for those who don’t know.
At this point, my housing captain calls me into his office with another of the admin to give me the assignment of fixing these troubled areas. After reviewing the assignment, I smile back and tell him “Sorry, the major told me I wasn’t a captain and that I was to stop doing captain work now that I was a housing lt. This is beyond my assigned post to fix as it requires me to tell security what to do in order to fix it.”
“We should work as a team. You don’t want the team to suffer for this, do you?” He says to me. Then the other admin pipes in “Lt., let me get this right. You are refusing to do this because you didn’t get the captain position?”
I then give the same grin the major gave me when he told me months earlier. “Well, that is how it works here, isn’t it?
Security manages security and housing takes care of housing unless it jeopardizes the security of the facility, then it is security’s problem, right?” I then roll my shoulders into a shrug, “I just simply lack the authority to do that job, and the major assured me that you and the other captains all had it under control. I even showed it all to you before I was reassigned, remember?”
By this point, I can see that the captain is getting visibly upset as they are now entirely responsible for all the work I used to do. The other admin at this point looks at me again and asks, “So, are you refusing to do this assignment?”
“It isn’t that I’m refusing to do the assignment; it is just that with all my new responsibilities as housing lt.
I simply don’t have the time to do them and the work of a captain, which the major made very clear I’m not supposed to do the work of any longer as I am not a captain.” I then stand with a smile, “So, no, I am not refusing the assignment; I am following the orders of a higher superior that told me to no longer do anything outside of my assigned duties as a housing lt.
Last I checked, the post orders I signed stated I was only to do assignments that are of housing unit responsibility, which also is signed by the major and the warden. Now, if you don’t mind, I really have other responsibilities I need to get back to.” I then smile at both of them and walk out of the office as I was currently in the middle of getting vacation request and working on offender housing assignments to ensure we were in compliance with STG (security threat group) and racial balance requirements for the nearly 1,000 offenders in the facility.
About 20 days later, I receive a phone call while on vacation at 8 AM from the stand-in warden (our warden had been put on administrative leave pending investigation) along with said housing captain.
“Is this Lt.?” asks the stand-in warden to which I groggily answer, “Yes, it is. Who is this?”
“This is Stand-in Warden, and I’m sitting in the room with Housing Captain who has brought something rather startling to my attention.
He is saying that you refused to do an assigned duty that resulted in the inability to track various things in the facility, is that correct?”
At this point, I sit up in bed and answer, “Yes, that is correct, but that is beca-” I don’t even get to finish as this stand-in is clearly upset at my admission and interrupts me.
“You do realize that this is insubordinate behavior that is gross in nature, don’t you?” Anger was clearly in his voice, but a controlled anger.
I can only imagine that the housing captain is sitting in the room with a grin.
“Am I going to get to answer, or are you going to interrupt me again? It seems you have already made your mind up on the matter given the tone of your voice, sir,” I respond.
“You’re correct. I’ve decided that your negligence in performing duties as assigned is gross in nature and believe this meets the required parameters for immediate termination effective now.” He pipes back, obviously not happy with what I said.
“You do realize I will be adding this to my complaint of workplace harassment and retaliation if you do so without getting the full story, don’t you? This means that I will be adding your name to the complaint for failure to do your due diligence in getting the full story on top of the warden you are currently replacing, the housing captain sitting with you, the major, and several others for violation of your own disciplinary policy.” I’m shaking at this point, angry that this is happening, and that I have to resort to this extent to get the point across.
“And yes, I do have access to all of the documents, including all current policies of the company, the current contract between the company and the state, and will pursue this if you continue with this.”
“You do what you feel is necessary, and I am doing what I feel necessary. As of this date, you are hereby terminated. You will receive in the mail the disciplinary form and decision to include a formal answer to your complaint by the week’s end.”
“You see, if you’re part of that complaint, you no longer can issue the formal answer according to policy. It will now have to come from corporate HR who will have to agree with your decision and already has copies of the complaint as well.” My voice now shaking from my own anger.
“Well, then you’ll be hearing from them, I suppose.” The phone then hangs up but not before I could hear the change in his tone of voice as well.
I wasted little time in updating my complaint and notifying the corporate HR person I had been in contact with for about 6 months now.
A week later, a notice was sent to all employees that the facility would be closing their doors permanently in 90 days, and I continued to receive my full 40 hours a week pay until the day those doors closed without ever having to return to work.
I was then later allowed to file for unemployment as well as the technical reason for loss of employment was through no fault of my own. I later found out from the HR department that the facility was closed due to four major reasons:
1.) The company was no longer making any profit due to poor management decisions that lead to PPMU issuing upwards of $75,000 in fines per month on top of out-of-control over time due to shift commanders not properly tracking their shift officers overtime, vacation, or days off.
2.) Many of the administration and captains had received numerous complaints of company violations to include harassment and nepotism.
3.) PPMU investigated the qualifications of some of the recently hired/promoted administration and captains as they too were suspicious that they didn’t meet proper qualifications for the position. This means they were entitled to back-fine all the days those positions were filled simply because they were unqualified candidates.
4.) The investigation found all complaints to be valid and would require termination of nearly all of the current administration, 2 captains, and 1 HR for failure to correct the issues meaning it was easier to just cut their losses rather than try to fix it.
Why was this nuclear revenge? Well, the state had to quickly move and relocate nearly 1,000 offenders, 250 people lost their jobs, of which 15 of them ended up fired due to policy violations resulting from the investigation of nepotism and workplace harassment.
A few had workplace discrimination and resulted in one person, who was not receiving a fair wage of others of a similar position, to receive back pay of upwards of $38,000. My start of complaints led to others filing complaints for similar reasons in the nearly two years leading up to this adding to documentation of the issue that resulted in the closure of the facility.
Even knowing the impact this had, if I were to live through it again, I would still have done the same thing.”
13. Stalker, Bully Boss Gets Sent Into A Deserved Divorce
“This happened four years ago.
I used to work in a convenience store, and the store manager was a real jerk. Misogynistic, offensive, (as in haha cancer is hilarious) creepy, and a downright bully. Sometime after I left, he was fired after he decided to turn a professional interview with a young woman into a conversation about her favorite adult video. She reported him and he got the sack.
Awesome.
Anyway, this guy, we’ll call him Andy, fancied himself as a real ‘leader’. I mean he wasn’t, he set impossible tasks and yelled instructions whilst doing absolutely nothing in the office in the meantime. I had a colleague called Gabby who, to be honest, I didn’t get on with. However, I knew that at the time she was having a really tough time at home with her 3-month-old son.
One day in winter, it had snowed. Fairly heavily. Gabby rang in that morning and told Andy she couldn’t make it in as she was snowed in. Everybody knew that wouldn’t have been true, and that it was likely she hadn’t slept well with the baby crying and whatnot. But you know what, who cares? She always worked hard and she deserved a break.
It was only a 4-hour shift and the store was dead anyway, no customers were gonna walk over snow and ice for the morning paper. Plus we were actually OVER staffed. However, Andy had a problem with women. He was always disrespectful and demeaning. Like the rest of us, he knew she wouldn’t be snowed in, but he didn’t let it lie. He wanted to catch her out.
Andy abandoned the store (serious gross misconduct) and got in his car. He made the 15-minute drive to Gab’s house and took pictures of her car, her front driveway, and the rest of the street, to prove she wasn’t snowed in. He then called her into the office at the end of the week for a disciplinary. When she came out she was in tears, she was on a final warning.
Andy wouldn’t want a dismissal on his quarterly record, so he basically just threatened her instead. This didn’t sit well with anybody. We hated him anyway, but he went too far making a single Mum cry over something so ridiculous.
Well, here’s the good part. What Andy didn’t realize, was that on the last work night out, he had revealed to the team that he constantly had affairs behind his wife’s back.
He would regularly two-time his wife of 18 years. He also has two teenage sons. He would justify it as having ‘natural male hunger’ if you’ve ever heard a more disturbing quote.
Andy used to tell his wife that he finished at 23:00. This was a lie, he never worked later than 21:00. After an evening shift, he’d go and hook up with whichever side piece he had going at the time.
Well, one evening, he finished at 21:00 and he got in his car and started driving. What he didn’t realize, was that Gab, who wasn’t on shift that day, had dropped her son at her Mum’s house and had waited outside the store in her car for Andy to leave. She tailed his car to his hook-up house and parked three houses down.
She then proceeded to take pictures of Andy hugging and kissing this random woman, before pulling her inside and slamming the door. You can see where this is going.
Andy didn’t come into work for a week. When we saw him next he looked broken. His wife had been anonymously sent the pictures of him with another woman. She’d kicked him out and had contacted a solicitor to start a divorce process.
His sons had blocked his number and wanted nothing to do with him. Of course, he knew who sent the pictures. But he had no proof, no evidence.
Gabby stayed at the store for another 3 months before moving into a recruitment position for a pharmaceutical company. As far as I know, she’s still there today and doing well. As for Andy, I have no idea whether the divorce went through or not, I blocked him on all social media after I left the company, about a month after this whole thing.
What I do know is that he’s a disgusting, reprehensible human being who thought he was invincible. He thought he could walk all over people, bullying and belittling as he went. Well, he soon realized that nobody is invincible, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching his collapse.”
12. Try To Get Me Fired? Good Luck Getting Tenure
You lost your shot, lady.
“This happened in Japan, so a lot won’t make sense unless you have experienced living here; thus, I had to provide a lot of details to enlighten you–my readers. Please bear this in mind.
I worked as an assistant language teacher (foreign English teacher) at a public Japanese junior high school in the early 2000s.
This was a yearly contract, limited to 5 years, and the 1st year was a probation period. When hired, the hiring official at the Board of Education told me this was a formality: do a good job, be friendly to the kids, and my contract would easily be extended (basically, everyone was re-hired). This job involved accompanying six Japanese English teachers to their classes, modeling correct English pronunciation, and working as their assistant teacher.
Among the 6 teachers, one was a department head, and she set my schedule deciding which periods I worked and the teachers I assisted.
In the beginning, I didn’t know anything structure-wise about the Japanese school system, the teachers’ backgrounds, etc. I just knew that I was the lowest guy on the totem pole, and I worked for these teachers. After some time, one of the Japanese English teachers casually mentioned to me that she had tenure.
I had assumed that all of the teachers had tenure, but several of the Japanese English teachers were also on yearly contracts, including the department head who was filling in for a tenured teacher (the original department head) on maternity leave. I thought this was a little strange, but in my eyes, I didn’t see that this teacher did anything extra other than make my weekly schedule.
I knew she was around my age and had been a teacher for a few years (remember that). There was a lot of strangeness I discovered while working, such as many of the teachers, tenured and non, only had associate degrees–to include this, acting department head. So, this was Japan, and they did things differently. Strange but whatever. I will admit I was very naive.
Some important details to know at this point: my position, no tenure possible, work 5 years, move on. The Japanese yearly-contract teachers also had 5-year limits, but if they passed the National Teacher’s exam, they would earn tenure. They had to pass this exam within 5 attempts–5 years (also important detail). Again, I didn’t know these latter details at the time.
I had been working there for about six months, and one day, I am walking to class with the acting department head.
She mentions to me that she heard how much the assistant language teachers make. There were ten of us scattered at various schools in the city. I prefer not to talk about such matters, so I nodded and listened, “That is a lot of money for only 6 hours a day (my contract).” It ended there. Note: All of the Japanese teachers, tenured or not, typically worked 10-hour days, often more.
At this point, it is March. The school year has ended, and the new school year starts in April. The Board of Ed calls to notify me that I need to come in and discuss my contract for the next school year. I went to this meeting with confidence.
Arriving in the office, I am met by 3-4 stern-looking officials, and they inform me that my evaluation submitted by the school was unsatisfactory, and the school recommended that I NOT be re-hired by the Board.
Stunned is an understatement. More details emerged, comments from the evaluation, such as bad attitude, unfriendly, not a team player, none of it justified. I asked who submitted the eval, and they told me the department head, but the input was from all of the English teachers. My explanations for these accusations were going nowhere, so finally I pleaded for them to call the school and individually ask the remaining teachers of their evaluations.
I sincerely believed I had good relations with all of the teachers. Rather than firing me on the spot, which they were planning, they agreed and only mentioned they would get back to me.
A few days passed, and I was cleared by the Board of Ed for another year. They simply said that there was a misunderstanding, and they apologized. Arriving back at the school in April, a few English teachers who had worked there the previous school year explained that they had submitted all positive notes to the department head, but the department head obviously did not submit those.
This teacher had also moved on to another school, as the teacher on maternity leave (the original department head) had returned, so I had no chance to directly confront her.
A few years passed without incident. I changed schools, and I now worked in the prefecture capital. I was asked by the prefectural board if I would like to proctor the National Teachers’ exams on a Saturday for some extra bucks.
I agreed. The other foreign teachers and I had to sit as the primary interviewers for the interview portion of the exam and grade their exam essays. The interviewing team consisted of 3 people, myself and 2 school principals, who didn’t speak English. I had a list of about 50 questions, about half were extremely easy, such as, “Why do you want to be a teacher?” and some that were quite difficult–“How do you cultivate positive relationships with your students and create a sense of class community?” I honestly don’t remember the exact questions, only that about 1/2 were easy, 1/2 were difficult, even difficult if you were interviewing in your native tongue.
I ran the entire interviews for all applicants that day. The principals just sat and marked scores. I tended to shy away from the difficult questions because I had, at this point, worked for nearly 3 years and knew the English level of most teachers. It usually was pretty basic. When the applicants had left the room, the principals asked for my ratings for the questions I asked. The scoring was a simple 1-10 rating.
If I said 10, they circled 10, 1 they circled 1, and so forth. They officially recorded the scores but solely relied on my judgment, no questions asked.
There were about 20 applicants I had to interview that day. The interviews were quick, and I didn’t take note of the names until the applicants walked in. As I am looking down reading the next applicant’s name, I pause, and then the door closes.
As I look up, I see the applicant’s face turn from confidence to dread.
The tables had turned. My former department head (boss) sits, and I got to it, choosing ONLY the difficult questions that had no business being on that exam. She didn’t have a chance. The interview concludes, she leaves, and the principals ask for my rating. 1, 1, 1, etc. down the line, and they circled.
After the interviews, I also had the great pleasure of grading all of the essays of the same applicants I had interviewed. Have you ever heard that essay-grading is subjective? Well, I will let that question hang. She definitely didn’t pass the National’s Teacher Exam that year, and I do believe that the year I graded her interview and essay was likely year 5, her last attempt.”
11. Make A Big Deal Over 25 Minutes Of Overtime? I'll Forward Your Rude E-mail
“I was hired as an inspector which was an hourly job. Overtime pay was common but involved management to approve.
Management needed to approve as there were many inspectors on standby, and if they could just have another inspector continue at the start of the next shift, they wouldn’t need to pay overtime, which was fair.
Overtime decisions were made by the team leader, supervisor, scheduler, or project manager.
Anyways, I was working at a client site. It was around 2:50 pm when the client walks on the floor and asks for the progress.
I let him know that I am done with 95% of the work, and the remaining 5% should be completed the next day.
He then asks me if I could complete the remaining 5% today by staying overtime. I let him know that I could and that it actually needs approval.
Now, this guy was from the same country as I was from, and we got along well.
He says I have his approval, and if any of the supervisors, project manager, or anyone needs to hear it from him, he can let them know that I have approval.
I say thank you, and he walks away.
This client facility is huge, and the area I was working had bad cell phone reception. I try calling and texting the other management that I was doing overtime.
One text goes through to a supervisor, who doesn’t reply back, but I knew he would be cool with it.
I couldn’t walk out of the facility or to a different area as walking out means I need to check out of security and walk about 7-8 minutes to get there and then go back inside checking into the security and walk back 7-8 minutes.
Also, walking to a different area kind of meant abandoning my post, which was frowned upon by the client and reported to my management and so was taking untimely breaks.
Me being a team leader myself had the authority to make that decision. Me being the only person on-site doing that job also meant I was acting Supervisor.
So, I decided to complete the job which took me 25 minutes of overtime.
This was Friday.
On Monday, I was scheduled to a different client alongside the supervisor whom I had texted. The supervisor came from a different site and joined me a few hours later.
A couple of hours into the shift when my hours were processed, and I sent the end of project email with all the reports and hours billed, I start getting nasty-grams from my project manager as to who approved the overtime and who I contacted, and all.
This is in the same email chain as the end of project report to the customer. The project manager removed the customer from the email chain before sending me those nasty-grams.
My supervisor who is setting up this stuff sees that I am uneasy and kind of scared as the project manager was angry with me and looking into what was going on.
In the email chain, I explain that I had verbal approval from the client.
Project Manager: “Verbal approval is like toilet paper; it gets flushed down the drain,” plus some stuff that basically says we can’t trust the client and that I should get written approval if not before at least afterward as soon as possible.
We were required to have all conversations with the client regarding a closed project in the same email chain so that all issues (if any) stay in one email chain, which the management was copied on.
Since this happened on Friday at the end of my shift, technically Monday was “as soon as possible” per the request.
So, I added the client back to the email chain and asked him to kindly send a written approval for the 25 minutes of overtime he requested.
Ohh, and yes, I made sure I added the client replying back to the email from my PM where he said the toilet paper line.
I also called the client to let him know about replying back to the email with the approval. We were cool and kind of buddies at this point. He says he will, and we hang up.
10 minutes later, PM called me angrily saying he didn’t mean that I ask for the approval in the same email chain and all. I explain I had approval and all, but the conversation just ended with him repeating his side and me repeating mine.
Meantime, I tell the supervisor what I did, and we burst out laughing, with him saying that he can’t believe it.
The client eventually replied back saying I had approval, and the chain went silent after that.
I get a call from HR that day saying I need to be aware of the email chain and what stuff is in it before adding the customer, etc. That’s all.”
10. Keep Stealing Our Food? You'll Be Making A Trip To The Bathroom Soon
“A little bit of background. In Norway we have so-called “folk schools” where you study a theme such as music, e-sports, mountain hiking, anything really, depends on what you want to do. These schools do not require an exam to pass. It’s really just a year where you can explore something new or develop your hobbies.
In 2016-17, I went to a school which was all about music: pop, rock, jazz, and musical theatre.
The year starts off well, and we are all divided into different dorms which sort of become your family for the year. We have seven dorms at the school. In each dorm, we have a common living room with a couple of sofas close to the windows, a small stove and a refrigerator at the right of the entry door, and a shelf to the left. Every day except weekends, we have a midday meeting where any information will be provided to the students or if any students are arranging something that will be brought up too (concerts, movie nights, and other social things).
Key persons to this story include Mary our dorm leader and vocal teacher at the school; William, an awesome bassist and fellow student; Karen, a small girl and overall nice but totally oblivious to any problems she creates; Johanna, a girl with special education at the school but key for the revenge; and of course, me, the petty mastermind.
A few weeks into the term, William steps up during the midday meeting (MM) and asks politely, “We have encountered some stealing from the living room of our dorm.
Could the person responsible please stop? You don’t have to come forward, just stop it. We don’t have a lot of money and would like our beverages and food for ourselves. You could always ask for a piece too. Thank you.” Everyone agrees, and the meeting ends, and we don’t think more of it. William and I do not live in the same dorm (important for later).
A week goes by with a lot of music and fun. During the midday meeting that day, William stands up again visibly upset, and says, “Would the jerk stealing our food please stop?” (I cut it short because he ranted on for a few minutes). The principal, a man of God, points out that any form of stealing is a foundation for being expelled from the school.
The speech from William about the stealing of food and drinks would continue for another four weeks, only worse and worse with more and more swearing. He had a bad mouth, and since the school is Christian, his mouth didn’t fit well with the school’s values, but it was no reason for expulsion though.
Anyway, after four weeks of stealing from his dorm, Karen moves to our dorm.
She didn’t fit well with her roommate. A few days after she moved in with us, William stands up at the MM and tells everyone that the “stealing has finally stopped” and is very happy. A few days later, we notice that chocolate and beverages are starting to disappear from our dorm – curious, you think? It’s time to tell you that the dorm Karen used to live in was William’s dorm, and now the stealing had started at ours.
None of us were stupid, so we put two and two together; we knew it was Karen.
So, a few of us went to Mary for advice on what we should do. Since we didn’t have any proof other than our intuition, we couldn’t do much other than bring the issue up at the next dorm meeting (DM – meetings every other week to solve any problems within the dorm to ensure a healthy mental environment).
So, we do it. I bring the issue up at the DM but do not point my finger towards Karen but address the problem in general and ask for everyone to respect each others’ personal belongings, such as food and drinks. Everyone agrees, especially Karen with a lot of nodding with her head. She doesn’t dare to look me in the eye, though.
Some time goes by, and we just can’t make her stop.
We address it at every DM for several weeks, but she won’t change or even admit it is her, even though we started to tell her that we know. She pretends everything is fine, which it isn’t. So, in frustration, the rest of us in the dorm sit down when she isn’t there and discuss different strategies to make her stop. Johanna is on laxatives at this point in time.
She had a bad stomach and needed it to be able to poop and told us as she would tell us anything personal that you usually wouldn’t tell everyone. So, we ask her how and when she takes it, and she usually has it when she eats or drinks. My head suddenly says “tick” and proposes the idea: “What if we put the laxatives in your soda, Johanna?
It’s not like you are not going to have it anyway, so we can’t be held responsible for any consequences.” We play around with the idea for a few minutes and decide to remove all our food and drinks from the fridge into our rooms, all but Johanna’s soda, which we fill up with laxatives. The trap is set.
I kid you not, it didn’t even go an hour before we hear the toilet start running in Karen’s room, and it goes all day for two days straight.
She pops up in the dorm room and tells us that “I suddenly got a really bad stomach. It must have been something I ate” with a said face, while all of us are doing our best to not poop ourselves from holding in our laughter.
We pass on the story to Mary, who bursts out into laughter almost in disbelief that we did what we did.
She passes on the story to the principal, and Karen gets expelled from the school. I did feel a bit bad about it since she was nice most of the time, but she just couldn’t stop herself from taking our food, right? But anyway, that’s how I made my dormmate poop herself out of school.”
Another User Comments:
“I’m okay with this. The ONLY thing I would have done differently is confront her directly before resorting to what she would have done to herself eventually.
Give her ONE chance of, “We know it’s you, so stop, or you will regret it.” After that, gloves are off.” Stabbmaster
9. Steal My Desk? I'll Annoy You Every Day
Won’t be sitting at her desk anymore, huh?
“In the last year of my Industrial Design degree, I scored a paid contract at the Australian Government’s scientific organization. Although I was only in 2-3 days per week, I was shown into a large empty office and told I could base myself there.
The office was normally used for students, but as I was the only one on this project, I had the whole office to myself with about 6 desks.
Naturally, the first task is to find the best desk and put it into the best position. Since I was going to be there for a while, I stuck some posters of my project on the wall behind my desk and even brought in some retro decor from home to add a little personality to my part of the boring brick cavern.
All went well for a couple of weeks until a few other students moved into the room. Although our paths rarely crossed as they were working on other projects, two of them were perfectly reasonable and set themselves up on other desks. The third, who I will call Jerkwad, because that is probably his name, decided he liked my desk. I should point out that all of the desks were the same, and mine had no better a view than anyone else’s.
Mine had my stationary on it, my posters on the wall around it, a clock, a telephone; all were mine. In fact, the telephone wasn’t even plugged in; I just brought it in because it was an Ericofon, and they look cool.
So, one day, I come in and Jerkwad is sitting at my desk, while the other students were at their desks. My stuff was packed up and pushed to one side to make room for his stuff.
I made some comment about it being my desk, and his response was, “Yeah, I won’t be here for long” or some other blowoff. To pursue it further would have made me look really petty in front of the others since all the other desks were the same.
I set myself up at another desk that day; although, over the next few days, I could tell my stuff had been moved around, and unless I got to the building by a certain time, he would steal my desk again.
Unfortunately for Jerkwad, one of the things I brought from home was a “Talking Wizard” talking calculator clock. It was a cheap gimmicky thing like you would see at the markets. Basically, a black plastic box with a button. When you pressed the button, it would say, “It is nine-oh-five AM.” When you opened the box, there was a calculator, and when you pressed each button, it would say the number and read out the answer.
Unluckily for Jerkwad, the clock also had an alarm. When you set it, it would say, “BEEP BEEP BEEP. It is nine-oh-five AM. BEEP BEEP BEEP It is nine-oh-five AM” and would keep repeating this for 30 seconds very loudly. I set the alarm to go off mid-morning, put it in my desk drawer, and locked it. For extra pettiness, I also changed it to the wrong time.
They were sturdy desks. 1940s era, made from silky oak with inlaid green vinyl tops. It is not possible to dismantle them or open them with a different key.
I then took the key home and didn’t come back for another 3 working days. When I returned I sat at my desk, opened the drawer, and turned the clock off before it could go off.
When Jerkwad came in, he saw me and said, “Can you turn that b****y clock off?
There’s something locked in the desk, and it scares the life out of me every day and won’t shut up. I was about to smash the desk apart with an ax.”
I said something snarky like, “Sorry, it does sometimes go off when other people sit at my desk.”
He never stole my desk again.”
8. He Never Called Me Lazy Again
“So, this happened a few years ago on a relatively large project. We were building a four-level house from the ground up. At the time, I was 23 working with my dad (the boss) and my step mom’s cousin, Max.
Max is an older gentleman in his 50s, who is for a lack of a better word, gross. He is the type of person to knock something over that injures you and laughs and tells you to be careful next time.
Needless to say, he doesn’t think I (23, female at the time) can do what he can. So, he likes to refer to me as ‘Girl.’
Now onto the main part of the story. We had just gotten joists and trusses for the top two levels and the roof. It is also 6 pm, also known as universal quitting time for construction workers (unless you work for my dad).
Max who has been working with us long enough to know we don’t quit until after we’ve cleaned up has vanished.
Dad looks around, “Where’s Max?”
I shrug.
“Go inside and get him.” (We lived just down the street from this job.)
So, I go and find Max sitting on the couch in his dirty sweaty clothes and beer in his hand half gone.
“Done already, lazy girl?”
This is a new one, and I’m angry. “Dad says we aren’t done.”
He grumbles but downs the rest of his beer and follows me out. We get back, and my dad is already moving some of the joists into place and orders me and Max to bring the rest. Sourly, I do as asked and grab one. Max jokes around and makes comments about me under his breath.
“Come on, lazy girl!” This one he says loud enough for everyone to hear as if I was a sled dog. I think, lovely.
Dear readers cue my petty revenge. I grab one end and do a shuffling walk thinking at most I’ll bang his knee. (Painful but no lasting harm.) I hear that sound that I’m pretty sure every guy knows as a gasp/wheeze/pained cry.
I turn around to look. Max is standing directly behind the joist holding squarely in front of his junk looking like he wants to vomit.
I may have done it a couple more times. I was not called lazy girl again.
Before anyone defends him and tells me I’m awful, let me tell you how he KNOWS he is supposed to carry these on his side.
Also, he never once changed positions over the dozen different ones we moved. He simply wanted me to carry more weight.”
7. Be A Bully? We'll Mess With Your Car
“Yesterday I went kayaking with some friends. Whilst on the river we saw a woman who was obviously a small person. After about 2 miles, we finally took a break on the shore to answer nature’s call and drink a beer.
Well, after about 10 minutes of sitting there I noticed that a kayak was empty and floating down the river, and about another 5 minutes passed before I saw the woman swimming trying to catch up. I sprung into action, swimming out, grabbing her, and bringing her ashore.
If I didn’t do that then she would have wound up going through some rapids. Since I have kayaked loads in my life in the boy scouts, I had no issues with taking on another person in my one-seat yak.
I started talking to her to find out what had happened (I’ll call her Bethany from here on out). I was immediately thinking she was just too small for the boat to stay balanced out and it flipped. NOPE! She started talking about a group of men that had been harassing her the entire way. Asking her if she floats easier, and saying many other mean and terrible things.
They eventually got close enough to flip her kayak over telling her that she needs to swim to catch up to it.
We floated another 7 miles before we got to the end of the line and pulled the kayaks up to the dock. I sent my attractive and bubbly female friend over to talk to the group after Bethany pointed them out. Since they’re nothing more than jerks they went straight to asking for her number and hitting on her about how good-looking she is in her bikini.
She started asking if they saw Bethany on the river to which they started laughing and told her what they had done. I was close enough to hear it myself. After she got that information I sent her man over to start talking about cars with them. They started talking about their sleeper civic’ and how they just got a new paint job to make it purple.
That’s all the information I needed. I told my friend to keep them busy with car talk.
This is where it starts getting good. I then ran to the parking lot with another friend to search for this car. After I had found it we started taking off its two front tires (I have a lot of tools in my truck and some jacks I wasn’t upset to lose so this wasn’t hard at all).
I then sent my fastest-running friend to the end of the parking lot with the wheels. When the group of jerks arrived they were freaking out over the wheels. My friend then looked over to them yelling at them that if they wanted to get home they had to run to catch up to them.
He rolled them down and started running for my truck, hopped in, and we started to drive away.
I told Bethany that I would take her home if she wanted to stay back and watch karma smoke them in the face, to which she did. On the way out, we got a good look at how far the tires rolled down the hill. Those puppies had to have rolled a good half mile and watching five fat fratboys trying to run downhill was amazing.
I thought that was the end of it but no, no it wasn’t. By some magical force, the dude that we dished out the revenge to lives close to me. I was outside mowing the front lawn when I saw a purple Civic on the back of a flatbed truck.
It finally hit me that the purple civic USED to be the white and green one that sat in the front yard of a house just down the road.
The owner? The father of the dude that drove it, and the father of the one who flipped ol’ girl’s kayak. Unbeknownst to me, the tire iron that’s supposed to be in the car to change wheels in an emergency wasn’t in there so they had to call a tow to get it back. I know why the towing company didn’t let them use a tire iron as it was going to be a better lucrative idea to charge them the full price of a tow.
Moral of the story? A really, really, really simple one.
. . don’t be a jerk and bully people with disabilities. I just wish I could have heard what the guy said to cover his butt. He more than likely lied saying he was the ‘victim’ in all of it, but at least Bethany and I know the truth and that’s all we need. And the best part?
After explaining to the Kayaking company the situation, Bethany was able to get a full refund and a free pass for another kayaking trip. She invited me and my friends to go with her sometime next week. We’ll make sure she doesn’t get messed with on that trip.”
Another User Comments:
“When will different stop being the same as unworthy of respect? It’s disgusting to see anyone treated that way for any reason, especially reasons out of their control.” KrymsinTyde
6. Act Difficult? Your Event Will Go Under Quickly
“I worked for an events hire company. We supplied everything from AV to display stands, fencing, staging, etc.
So I worked with an organizer that was looking to host a Beverage Festival.
We had multiple meetings and provided far, far too many quotes and prices, but eventually, it paid off and she signed off to work with us!
Fast forward about 2 weeks later, I have had little contact from her which was very unusual. Out of the blue, she emails me saying that they had found a cheaper supplier (almost half the price!) and that we were ripping her off. If we didn’t void the contract and return the deposit, she would take legal action. Our prices were very fair and competitive with our main competition, so this really didn’t make sense at all as to why it would be so insanely cheap.
I’ve has this happen before and in my experience, it’s just best to let these organizers go, rip up the contract and return the deposit. If you force them to work with you, it becomes an absolute nightmare and just isn’t worth it in the long run as you work with these people for months leading up to the event. The event was still a while away as well so I was confident I could fill in the spot with another.
Fast forward to only 3 days before the festival opens and I get a call from the organizer:
Organizer: ‘You have to help me! It’s Organizer!’
Me: ‘Uhhh sure, what’s up?’
Organizer: ‘The Supplier has arrived to install and the equipment is unusable! The marquees are ripped, displays can barely stand up, they didn’t bring any AV. It’s a disaster!’
Me: ‘Okay, so before I go back to my team, are you needing everything we quoted you, right now?’
Organizer: ‘Yes! Everything!’
I go back to my team and although we had a bit on, we agreed we could supply what she needed in time, but would naturally need to charge a premium because it was really, REALLY late and meant serious overtime.
We didn’t want to do it, but pulling her out would’ve made waves in our industry and bound to get good words in the right ears due to the festival’s size.
So I call back Organizer.
Me: ‘Organizer, I have great news! We can get down there later this afternoon and we will work non-stop over the next 2 days to get this done for you.’
Organizer: ‘You are a lifesaver! Thank you all so much!’
Me: ‘Now we will require 90% upfront payment and you can pay the remaining 10% after the install is complete. I will send you an invoice now, but please know the invoice will be a larger amount than before (approx 30% more due to overtime and just being late.
Pretty standard for an event this size).’
Organizer: ‘But we had a contract. We have a set amount. You need to honor that.’
Me: ‘You made us rip it up and threaten a lawsuit if we made you stick to it. Those are the prices. No other company in this city would be able to deliver what you are asking this late in the game.
The price is the price, you can take it or leave it.’
Organizer: ‘THIS IS CRAZY! WE HAD A CONTRACT!’ throws some nasty words my way on how we are useless and going to get sued.
Me: ‘You have 2 hours to let me know if you want to move ahead, otherwise the stock will not be available. Goodbye.’
Long story short.
She never called back and went ahead with the other supplier.
The festival was a disaster. She had also charged independent mobile food vendors and retailers to be at this festival and charged them a premium for each spot. The vendors constantly lost power, water and had 0 support during the show. So they naturally took her to court. She had to pay back all the businesses that had purchased a spot at the festival through a court order and lost her business.
Then she tried to sue us and blame us for the whole catastrophe, but it didn’t go far.
Before you say it’s sad she lost her livelihood, firstly, she should have canned that event there and then.
It doesn’t take an organizer to see this was in no way going to be successful. Secondly, we found out through industry people that she has done this before, but got away with it.
So screw her. She tried to personally sue me as well. Which didn’t go far either, but still wasted a lot of my time.”
5. Think You Can Bully Me? I'll Throw You
“Little bit of backstory. I was a bit on the heavy side back then.
And by bit, I mean I was the biggest guy in size in school. So got bullied a lot. Mostly verbal. The few times it got physical, I didn’t retaliate. So almost everyone knew how much of a softy I am.
Which made me a prime target for the whole school. Also, the school was an all-exclusive boys’ school.
On to the story. I was called a lot of names back then. Chubby, fatty, big lorry. Anything big in size gets associated with my name. There’s this one guy, who I’ve known since the first grade, let’s call him DB, who has been relentlessly bullying me since the first time he laid eyes on me.
I am kind of a nerd. Just love computers and anything related to technology. Which DB didn’t like. Because his IQ is mostly double-digit and he had trouble figuring things out. So at the start of 8th grade, we could take an extra class that taught us current technology and stuff. DB stayed at the back of the class and got in a lot of trouble with the teacher because he was disruptive.
The technology department is located on the first floor of the school. This will be important later.
I had already complained a lot to the school administration about the bullying and even had my parents involved during the 4th grade.
He only got a slap on the wrist. Because his father was a friend of the School’s VP (Vice Principal). VP had filed numerous reports about DB but had never taken any action.
Oh and the time my parents got involved, he said, ‘boys will be boys. They’re just having fun. They’ll grow up and look back to those moments and have a laugh. Who knows. Your kid might even lose weight just to impress them.’ My parents were helpless in this situation.
So at the start of 8th grade, the bullying started. And this time it was mostly physical. Punching me on the arm.
Slapping the back of my head. My father had always taught me to turn the other cheek and always to respect others. Even if they do something wrong to you.
Exactly one month after the start of the school year, I went home pretty banged up. My father couldn’t bear it anymore. That was the day my father gave the best advice that he has given me.
‘Son. You have the size and strength to overcome many things. Next time anyone that even thinks of bullying you physically, mess him up bad. You’ll never have any trouble with anyone if you stand up and fight back against them.’ I had been bottling up everything up till that day.
My father’s words unleashed that rage beautifully.
I went back to school the next day and I was fuming.
8 years of pent-up rage ready to demolish DB. My first class for that day was technology class. The teacher still hadn’t come to class so we were all just waiting outside. DB saw me and started going on and on about my size. I didn’t say anything. The moment he punched on my arm was the breaking point. I simply grabbed onto his shoulders and said the words I was waiting to say all day long.
‘This is for all the years of you punching and calling me names.’
I threw him over the railing. From the first floor. He landed on the ground with a sickening thud onto the ground. What followed was the most girlish scream I have ever heard. The rest of the class had to pick up their jaws from the floor. VP came running to his aid and looked up.
He saw me smiling with the biggest grin I have ever had during the 8 years I spent in that nightmare.
Parents were called and what followed was chaos. DB’s father tried to punch me in the office in front of everyone (Principal, Vice Principal, 4 head teachers of the school, and the president of the school board who just happened to be on a visit to the school).
My father got in front of him and laid a nice uppercut to his jaw.
Police were called and he was arrested for trying to assault a minor. VP was fired because he had never taken any action against DB’s action even though he knew the whole story. DB couldn’t play soccer anymore. Which he loved.
After the whole fiasco was sorted out, my father gave me some new advice, ‘Just punch their lights out.
Don’t throw them from balconies.’ I never had any more troubles with bullies. They were scared of me.
My next goal was to protect the other kids who were getting bullied. If I saw anyone bullying anybody, I would stand next to the kid and ask what’s the problem. They would always apologize and leave.
I could proudly say that I solved the bullying problem in our school barehanded.”
Another User Comments:
“I raise my daughters by this same advice. If they are hurting you or someone else, knock their lights out. They are well-liked and respected and have really never had to use it. But I know they got it!” InMyHead33
4. I Replaced Her With A Forever Woman
Major upgrade.
“My best revenge was meeting my now partner of 35 years a week after I told my first serious partner to have a good life. See before I met my ex, I had a few partners but nothing serious. I was what a lot of people called a dog. But I was a dog that told the truth. I never told one of the many, many girls I went out with I loved them or that I was going to marry them.
In fact, it was just the opposite. I always told them upfront I’m just here for a good time as a song goes. It worked for me as many a girl said that I was a challenge that they were willing to take. I would just smile and nod my head. I was a young single E5 in Germany for two years and for my first year in Hawaii, I was having fun with a capital F.
Well, fast forward, I meet this girl in Hawaii. We hit it off. She was a former model and had everything going for her. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, the total package.
After about a month or so, I told her that I was developing feelings for her, and I was willing to take a chance on being just a one-woman guy. She was pretty happy too and said she wanted to be just with me.
Later on, we’d even talk of a ring and possibly making plans for the next year. Now we were together a little over 6 months. She said she had never felt this way about anyone, and I said in my mind and to married friends, wow this is how it really supposed to be right. That is until she had to go home (Utah) for a family emergency.
I called her one day and a guy (an old flame) answered the phone. I heard the shower running, and I then heard her say to the guy, ‘That was amazing, let’s just skip going out for dinner and stay in for dessert.’ I had heard this same line before from her when we were together and I knew exactly what dessert meant. I told the guy, ‘Hey dude, have a good time and tell (her name) that Alan said, ‘Have a great life.’’
I, of course, was angry. I later heard that the shower incident happened after a lot of booze was involved, but really it does not matter.
Not even a good week later, I met my now partner for life of 35 years. It was her first day in Hawaii as an operating room Tech in the Army. We met because I had sworn off girls (all my soldiers laughed when I said this) and I was actually playing basketball in the middle of the quadrangle where the barracks were.
At that time replacement or where new soldiers come into an Army post was located in the same barracks. Two months later, we were married, and before our first anniversary, we had our first kid. It was more than nine months as I know some of you were thinking we had to get married, but we didn’t.
Ha!
Now for the Revenge part. Not long after my now-partner and I started seeing each other, I was pulling CQ or charge of quarters when all of a sudden my ex-girl shows up.
She was crying, telling me how she messed up her life worse than anything she’s ever imagined and how she would do anything to get me back. I listened quietly, then said you did screw up but you know what it really turned out okay for me. I thanked her for taking that shower and then I said like a gentleman I’m going to walk you back out to your car.
We stopped at the soda machine because she said she was thirsty. She then point-blank asked me have you slept with her yet. I said, no. She then kinda smiled. I said no, I slept with you, I’ve made love to her. Mic drop!”
3. Awful Neighbors Get Soup Served On Their Cars
“Let me set the scene, the year is 2017, and my family and I live in a quiet suburban street. It’s mostly retired couples and some families with very young kids. Normal.
Now earlier this year the house diagonal from us decided to move and sold it. About the day after everything’s packed away, five cars come peeling down the street, and pull into the driveway and out in the road. They’re a bunch of college-age kids, so we give them some slack and let them go for a day or two. Meanwhile, day in and day out different cars keep peeling down the street, some are over 30 miles over the speed limit.
This does not go over well with the neighbors, for most of the younger kids walk and ride their bikes down our street. Everyone’s concerned they might hurt someone or someone’s dog. Before something serious can happen, some of the neighbors who’ve lived here 20+ years go over and meet the newbies. This includes my mom. They’re polite at first. They agreed to not go over 35, but more cars keep racing down the road.
Along with that, they seem to be having parties every other Tuesday with about 30 cars up the street.
Now the niceties are over, and the cops are called. Usually, they wouldn’t do this, but about 5 calls came in from a bunch of houses and the police department was fed up. Having nothing better to do, they send one of the deputies and they wait around the corner for a few hours a day.
About 2 fines are given, and then they slow down. Except they get smart, there’s only one place the deputy can hide, so they send one car to see if they’re there. If not they speed again. The deputy gives up after about 3 days and is gone.
A few months pass, and we were at a loss of what to do. Summer is almost here so my brother and I are outside more.
We have a basketball hoop at the edge of the road, right across from the house. Our driveway is at almost a 45° angle, and all my brother’s buddies come and play, so we leave it there. There’s a problem, the cars keep parking to block the hoop. My brother’s angry since that’s all he used to do in the summer. He goes over to the house and the guys just shut the door on him.
Now my mom’s angry. She marches over there and asks them to move their cars, sweetly, and when they refuse she hatches a plan.
This summer was a hot one, and my mom decides to cook some homemade pea soup. Now she burns this batch, by ‘accident’ of course. Instead of chucking it out, she puts it in this big plastic jar, seals the lid, and places it out on the back porch in the middle of the sun.
Weeks pass, and she occasionally opens it. There are maggots squirming around and it’s turned a deep brown-green. There’s also this clear yellow liquid that separated itself to the top. Disgusting.
Meanwhile, my brother is determined to play basketball when there’s a little opening. About twenty minutes in, the ball bounces onto one of the cars by accident. There was no mark, but the car alarm goes off so he’s trying to leave.
I run out to see one of the regulars who lived there, a woman, yelling obscenities at my brother and how he needs to pay for her car. My mother runs out after me and starts yelling at the lady to get away from my brother. There was no damage, and it was clear, but the lady kept screaming. My brother and I run inside and watch as the woman follows my mom up the driveway, waving her arms and still yelling.
My mom yells for her to get off her property or she’ll call the cops. By now our older neighbors are watching, some walking over, and the lady realizes that she better leave it or she might actually get in trouble. She runs across the street and slams the door.
Around 2 am on a Tuesday with one of their parties, my mom puts on a gas mask (my dad worked in pest control so he had one) and takes out the soup.
The stench was terrible. It was rotting meat and something indescribable. She takes the jar and goes over to the cars as quietly as possible. Onto almost every car she dumps the rotting pea soup onto the windshield and into that space where there are the windshield wipers. Before anything, I have to explain these were nice cars. Not sports, but Priuses and new cars, which doesn’t fit with their age.
The next morning, my mom’s out sitting in the garage, smoking like always. It’s around 6 am and the lady that yelled at my brother comes out first. She’s obviously tired as she gets into her car. A minute or two passes and this woman has the most disgusted-looking face. She turns on the windshield wipers and a hunk of rotting ham is sent flying.
My mom’s now in tears, and I mean tears. I wake up and head downstairs to the garage to see the woman yelling and about 20ish kids heading out to their cars. Each one’s trashed.
The cops are called, but since there’s no evidence, they can’t press charges against my mom. One by one they leave in their ruined cars. They moved out 3 weeks later.”
2. Think You Got Away With Abusing Me? I'll Get You For Something
“My ex-partner, Lee, was horribly abusive, but we lived in a town where his family had much influence, so my charges were always dismissed. He put me in the hospital more than once, and it was always brushed off.
I finally was able to escape, and left him and moved to a town where no one knew him or his family. I felt so free, and wanted no reminders of Lee and spent money I didn’t have on a new coffee table, I bought all the other furniture used. The table was gorgeous and had a full glass top. It was delivered 2 weeks before these events and was a visual reminder of my new life.
Lee had been threatening me over the phone that he wanted me to file for divorce because it was expensive and I had refused. We shared no children or property, and frankly, I was sick of him pushing me around.
After 3 months I get a call from him saying his new girl wanted to get married and he had filed for divorce. He wanted to come to my house for me to sign the papers.
I agreed because I did want to be completely free of him, and felt like I had won a small battle by making him pay the filing fee.
Lee gets there, and everything was fine for the first few minutes. However, when I started reading the divorce papers, he was trying to get me to pay spousal support. I got to that part and told him that my lawyer would have to look over the agreement before I signed, and he lost his mind.
I collected snow globes at the time, and a good friend had given me a huge, beautiful one for Christmas. He grabbed that snow globe that was on my shelf and threw it into my coffee table, shattering it.
I lost it. I literally couldn’t even see I was so furious, and I screamed at him that he was going to pay for that.
He laughed and told me to prove it, that no one had cared when he smashed in my face, and no one would care about a table. Without even thinking, I balled up my fist and punched myself in the face.
The look on his face was priceless and so confused, and then I punched myself again and started screaming for help. I hit myself one more time before he ran out, and by that time my neighbor had run over to my house after hearing my screams.
Lee ran from the house and the police were called. I told them he had done it, and the broken table was a perfect backdrop to the violence. They caught him before he got out of town. He was arrested for assault, and since he was on probation he would go back to jail if convicted to serve that sentence on top of the new one.
I did end up dropping the charges but let it hang until I got everything in the divorce that I wanted. It took about 6 months of him thinking he was going to prison.”
1. Harassing Your Employees Ends Now
“A few years ago, I was working in a job I really enjoyed with a team I really gelled well with.
There were about five of us working on the same portfolio of projects in different roles, and every single team member was just cream-of-the-crop, incredibly good at what they do.
I can’t overemphasize how satisfying it was to work with such an incredibly competent, likable group of people.
In this job, instead of getting the Sunday night blues, I would get excited thinking about the work I would be doing the next day and planning how we would solve complex problems together.
The one downside (there’s always a downside) to this job was Steve. Steve was not in the supervisory line for me or any of my team members, but he was about three levels above us and very senior.
He’d been there for years and was tight with senior leadership. Steve was also a mega-creep.
He said extremely inappropriate things to young women in the office, and he apparently wasn’t averse to being handsy, though as far as anyone knew, that was as bad as it had gotten.
The women in the office all knew to steer clear of him. My first week on the job, the whisper network made sure I knew: Never be alone with Steve.
Harassment is difficult to document, and no one wanted to risk their career and put a target on their back going after a big guy like Steve, so he just got away with it for years.
So for a couple of years, I followed this advice.
There were a few instances of Steve saying incredibly uncomfortable things to me in passing, but for the most part, I managed to avoid him.
Then I found out that my teammate Rob had gotten on Steve’s radar. For context, Rob is non-neurotypical and has some minor tic-ish behavior. He’s also shy and easily spirals into social anxiety when put in uncomfortable situations.
So one evening at our team’s informal weekly happy hour after work, Rob lets it slip that Steve’s been giving him a hard time.
The rest of us are like, ‘Whoa, wait, what?’ because Steve never interacts with staff at our level, except to creep on women, so we make Rob tell us everything.
Basically, for the last few weeks, Steve has been bullying Rob, making fun of his tics, and mimicking his way of speaking back to him.
He’s also been asking Rob how he can possibly be competent to do his job and implying he’s a pity hire.
Steve even called him an idiot. It’s clear Steve is seeking out Rob for this, because, again, there’s really no reason for him to interact with our team. Rob has been having horrible anxiety over this situation and has had bad insomnia and stomach issues since Steve started targeting him.
And not that it bears repeating, but just to reiterate, Rob is a beast at his job.
And a genuinely good guy.
At this point, I’m seeing red. We all were. We tell Rob to go to HR, that his neurological issues put him in a protected ADA class, that he could get Steve in big trouble. Rob panics and says he can’t do that, begs us not to tell anyone at work, and says he wishes he hadn’t said anything.
We assure him we won’t say anything if that’s what he wants, but we’re all very distressed.
I leave the bar fuming just thinking, OK, that’s it. Screw you, Steve. You’re going down.
I can’t tell anyone about what’s happening to Rob, because I promised him as much, so I start my own paper trail.
I start baiting Steve.
And I don’t mean I behave in any suggestive manner or lead him on: I just stop avoiding him, and I even initiate contact myself.
I IM him through the company’s IM system very professionally/politely asking if a big client will be staying on through the next project cycle, and the floodgates open. He starts sending me outrageously inappropriate IMs. I mostly don’t respond, but I occasionally keep him going by sending extremely literal responses to his innuendo-laden questions or pretending not to understand something suggestive he’s saying.
Sometimes when he clarifies, I’ll outright say, ‘This isn’t appropriate’ or ‘This is making me uncomfortable,’ or ‘Please don’t say things like that, Steve,’ but he steamrolls right over me.
During this time, I’ve also been seeing him more in-person around the office, and he often says gross stuff to me in person as well, a lot of it not just inappropriate, but bizarre and nonsensical (‘Is it legal to have a butt like that in that skirt?’ Lolwut?) Every time this happens, I immediately go back to my desk and write down what he said, the date and time, and the names of any witnesses.
After about a month of this, I compile my creep journal with printouts of the IM conversations and take them to my HR rep. I ask to file a harassment complaint against Steve.
As soon as the words ‘harassment’ leave my mouth, my rep instantly gets the head of HR and two other reps, and they go through my evidence with me and ask me a ton of questions.
The head of HR assures me they’ll take my complaints very seriously, and asks if I know of any women around the office who have had similar issues with Steve. I’m able to give them several names.
They send me on my way, and two weeks later, my rep formally reaches out to me and lets me know Steve has been let go.
Much jubilation is had around the office!
It took a couple of months for me to piece together the whole story, but basically, after my complaint, HR started following up with the names I gave them, both the witnesses to my in-person encounters with Steve and the other women he’d harassed.
They corroborated what I’d told HR, and then through them, word started spreading around the office that HR was conducting a harassment investigation against Steve.
This emboldened at least 15 different women who’d been biting their tongues about Steve for ages to come forward and tell their own Steve stories.
During all of this, IT had been asked to go through Steve’s emails and IMs, and this had not only been used to validate my printouts as legitimate, but IT had found a ton of additional incriminating stuff in Steve’s correspondences.
Somewhat frustrating: Steve received an extremely generous severance package as part of his termination. But on the bright side, word got around the industry quickly, and Steve was poison at that point.
No company would touch him with a 10-foot pole. The last time I thought to snoop on his public social media pages, he was listing himself as an ‘independent consultant’ in our industry, which I seriously doubt he’s actually doing, and based on his public page, he’s doing a couple of MLMs, so that should kill off whatever savings he has in short order.
I don’t work with Rob anymore, but I did recently attend his wedding! He’s extremely happy with his new wife (who is a sweet and lovely woman) and he’s doing really well in his career.”