People Unzip Their Lips About Their Unspeakable Revenge
18. Become Bridezilla Out Of Nowhere? We'll Make Sure You Can't Return These Gifts
And that’s how you get back at a greedy person.
“Background: When I got together with my man, he had a female friend who was basically Queen of one of his friend groups. I was never really close to her but I liked her, well enough, even though we were very different (she’s more ‘girly,’ I’m more tomboy).
Fast forward 6 years and she and her longtime partner are getting hitched.
Another thing you should know is that none of us are super-rich. Bridezilla’s mom, however, thinks her baby walks on water and they plan a classy wedding – confusing classy with expensive.
Thus begins the horror of the year plus engagement or as I like to call it, ‘The Cash Grab.’ These people have been living together for going on 7 years but they are going for the FULL white wedding.
By FULL I mean:
• TWO engagement parties (one with an addendum that no gifts are to be purchased, instead we should bring CASH for the cash tree).
• 2 bridal showers (including another cash tree)
• Out-of-town bachelorette party
• A Bridesmaid’s tea at a fancy tea shop…where the bridesmaids paid as a gift to the mother of the bride….
•Various ladies’ nights where whichever poor girls showed up were slave labor for enforced craft time like making favors and tying 200 ribbons for hand-engraved invitations.
Not to mention they were all potluck and BYOB so we didn’t even get free food because Bridezilla can’t even throw together some cheese and darn crackers..!?
At this time my hubby and I were really struggling financially so this constant spending was hard and the guilt was constant. ‘Oh mermaids_singing! I made you one of my TWELVE bridesmaids out of respect for your relationship with my oldest friend!
What do you mean you can’t take 2 unpaid days off of work and spend $500 for my weekend-long bachelorette party????’ Cue tears and phone calls to my partner and other bridesmaids asking why I don’t like her.
I learned that due to the ‘honor’ of being one of 12 bridesmaids, I would be forced to spend $275 on an ugly navy blue rayon monstrosity from one of the city’s most expensive bridal salons.
What on Earth?! It was the definition of ‘never wearing again’ and probably cost $2 to make in China. And we had to find navy blue pumps to go with it…
Finally, we get close to the wedding, which means shelling out cash for gifts… because the Lovebirds have registered every darn place.
They are treating this like The Price is Right. They registered for computers and flat-screen TVs.
They registered for 2,000 thread count sheets, and finally, they registered for fancy china. I think the china is what finally sent me over the edge. Bridezilla does not cook. Bridezilla does not even have a table in her apartment. Bridezilla doesn’t have storage big enough for the 12 place settings she registered for. And I’ll be darned if I pay $38 for a salad bowl for anyone.
So, I find myself with another bridesmaid (who is also mightily sick of this garbage as well) standing in Macy’s looking over the registry and I get a bright idea. I ask a saleslady to help me find the most useless cheap kitchen item on this list. Thus begins: Grudge Gifting.
We track down every useless thing on the list. And we price check it to see where we can find the exact thing cheapest. Special air vented pizza pan (for making your Red Baron extra crispy)?
Check. Countertop mini cupcake maker, in the shape of a cupcake that makes 7 mini cupcakes (a cupcake pan costs like $5, this thing? $27)? Yep. Countertop Fajita maker shaped like a chili pepper? Chickity check!
Soon we have a pile of stuff that is made for garage sales. This is trash that NO ONE uses and it’s all from the registry. We buy all the stuff at Macy’s thus getting it off the registry.
Then, we go to Walmart and Target and buy the same stuff.
Then we go back to Macy’s and return the expensive stuff but neglect to give the part of the receipt that says it’s from a registry. So it’s checked off.
Bridesmaid #2 and I take it home and wrap it all individually so that we have two towers of beautifully wrapped trash.
Stuff that we have scraped the price tags off of. Stuff that we have neglected to attach the gift receipts for.
And all of it was specifically requested.
We show up at the wedding and do our duty.
Everyone ooohs and ahhhs when we set our very pretty towers of stuff on the gift table. After the wedding, we immediately go and change into our non-horrible dresses and shoes and shove our combined $600 dollars worth of navy blue dresses and shoes in a paper sack for immediate donation to Goodwill.
We get our drinks from the cash bar and top them off from the flasks that we wisely snuck in.
Two weeks later, I get a call from Brideszilla trying to tactfully inquire about gift receipts…. ‘Weren’t they in there??? I could have sworn I put them in there. Let me look around the house…’
A couple of months after that, I receive a very polite thank you note.
A month ago they had a garage sale. Every single item was out for sale including a very dusty 7 portion cupcake maker.”
17. Horrible Animal Abusing Neighbor Gets Kicked Out Of The Neighborhood
“One year ago, I was renting a house next to the most unpleasant neighbor I have ever experienced.
The only thing I liked about her was her cat, this freakishly adorable tabby who could grab even the most hardened criminal’s heart by the balls.
Every time I came home from work he would sidle up next to me for some TLC, which he never got from my neighbor. As far as I could tell, she just used the poor thing to keep away mice and ‘play’ (i.e., be terrorized by) her toddler grandkids on the weekends. The poor furbaby looked severely underfed and always appreciated the meals I’d leave out for him on our back porch.
Now, I have an indoor fur baby of my own (a tail-less ball of energy, aptly named Goblin), and one day he managed to escape outside. Luckily I found him within a few hours, but by the next morning, what jumps on my lap? Not Goblin, alas, but a flea. And if my social butterfly cat had fleas, I was positive the next-door fur baby had fleas too.
Now, I already had a bitter history with this neighbor. In addition to being a jerk to her cat, she’d harass my older parents who were helping me move in.
Why? Because our U-haul rental was blocking a sidewalk to nowhere in front of MY house for all of 10 minutes. My parents are extremely pleasant people — my mom frequently gets THANKED on customer service hotlines for being the rare kind soul in an ocean of impatient Karens.
And this lady was berating them needlessly for ‘ruining the community,’ ranting even longer than they’d been parked until they eventually moved to an inconvenient and wholly unnecessary distance.
Regardless of her horrible personality, I figured I’d warn her anyway in the best interests of her fur baby.
When I knew she was at home the next day, I knocked on her front door.
When she answered (no ‘hello,’ just a scowl), I started to explain that my escaped indoor cat has fleas and so there was a good possibility that her outdoor cat also had fleas. Immediately she berates me for ‘letting’ my cat get fleas and snaps that she keeps her house very clean, unlike me, so there is no way her cat has fleas. I just loudly sighed at her and went back home as she continued to yell.
‘You’ve never even been to my house, lady! And that’s not how fleas work!’
All week I noticed her cat scratching himself raw and felt so bad for the ‘lil guy. I wanted to give him flea medication and a flea bath, but with my neighbor now watching me like a hawk and screeching if I even pet him anymore, I had to leave him alone.
BUT, I realized, there was something I COULD do.
You see, we shared the same landlord, who was very concerned about household pests and instructed us to call him at the first sight of a bed bug, tick, etc.
I also knew that my neighbor was keeping her cat a secret from the landlord to avoid paying the pet rent, as I’d overheard her bragging about this to a friend outside one day.
So what do I do? I call up the landlord to explain the flea situation, and I make sure to add that my neighbor’s cat has also been scratching like crazy. There’s a pause. ‘Did you say she has a cat?’ Yes, I assure him, she definitely has an indoor-outdoor cat.
Turns out that my neighbor had harrassed our landlord into replacing most of her carpet due to her alleged cat allergy.
I don’t know why the landlord caved into this, but it wasn’t cheap. And now our landlord learned that not only had Madwoman lied about an allergy to score a free renovation, but she hadn’t paid pet rent in more than a year.
Well, an exterminator gets called, and our landlord himself shows up to oversee the whole thing. We had both received a flyer taped to our front doors giving notice that he would be coming to our houses on that date, but I may or may not have removed my neighbor’s so she wouldn’t be able to just hide evidence of her cat for a few hours.
So our landlord arrives, and I listen gleefully with my window open as my neighbor tries to prevent him and the exterminator from entering. Eventually, she allows them to come inside, where there is obvious evidence of a pet living there. I don’t know exactly what transpired between her and the landlord (there must be other poop stains on her record, being such a nutcase), but a few months later I had a new next-door neighbor.
And guess who Madwoman purposely abandoned during the move? Her poor fur baby, who became a much-loved (and flea-free) member of our house.”
16. Racist Manager Loses His Job And What's Left Of His Reputation
“This summer gave me a deja-vu for what I’ve been through in the past. I’m working in a tech company. It’s a giant company and my partner also works there. We’re just working in different departments (this overview is connected with my revenge plot).
I got promoted within 2 quarters working there, very surprised and happy. Everything seems so perfect and I got pregnant. Then, everything went downhill.
My direct manager, who was very kind, was transferred to a different project, and I got a new manager. Let’s call him “Jerk.” From the first time I met him, I got this weird vibe that I couldn’t shake. He is so friendly with the white people, but not to me and my other two coworkers who originally are not from America.
Since I just got promoted and I will have my maternity leave soon, I am doing my best. Fast forward after having my cute baby, I return to the office.
Everyone gave me congratulations and asked me about my baby, her pics, and so on… planning my lunch comeback. But, Jerk stayed silent. Umm.. ok, maybe he is not a “personable” manager but whatever.
The nightmare began with him deliberately taking my important project and putting his name on it. What on Earth? Of course, I asked him in the management work system and made it public as to why my project was taken away from me without a conversation.
He then invited me to a 1:1 meeting and told me, “Oh, you just had a baby. I just want you to be more relaxed,” which was a bunch of bull because I had already finished most of that project. It just needed a little touch-up for the presentation and demo before presenting it to leadership.
There’s also another project that I found out I’d been excluded from.
Again, I asked Jerk, and he rushed to my desk kind of angry and told me: “You are a woman of color. I don’t think this project suits you well.” What the actual heck? Darn it, I gave Jerk so many benefits of the doubt, but I WON’T and CANNOT tolerate his trashy behavior. Just because he graduated from Oxford doesn’t mean that he can treat me like this!
Then, I systematically started to plan out how to defend myself because, clearly, he is a freaking jerk!
I called my closest friend who’s a lawyer. I told her everything that happened to me. She was like: “Woah… Dang it, what a freaking jerk your manager is. This is clearly a violation of workplace regarding racism and discrimination.” She gave me 2 options:
Publicly suing jerk, and my friend would be more than happy to represent me with a million-dollar lawsuit.
She also told me, if I take this road, of course, more cash, BUT my partner works there too. So there will be a conflict of interest. Plus, I have to be ready that this kind of lawsuit might take years to be resolved.
Or document everything and report to HR, and let them handle it with a risk that it may or may not go through because we will never know if Jerk has strings with the upper/leadership people.
After discussing with my partner, it would be safest to take the second route. I bring a good amount of income to our household, but my partner has the higher position. I don’t want to spend years facing the lawsuit; I just want Jerk to be fired!!
I am well connected with the upper leadership because of several projects. I am also kind of “chatty” with everyone, so I know who’s who.
I built a relationship with directors and the chief of staff. There was also a side project about social media that the chief of staff said she’d like me to work on because I am a woman of color. She requested me to be a part of that project to promote diversity. We got close, then she discussed her past and the people who wronged her.
Then she asked me if I ever experienced the same thing. What a destiny. I told her what happened to me and I told her that I am seriously thinking of moving on to other projects because I am so freaking sick and tired of dealing with Jerk.
The next day, the chief of staff sent a 1:1 meeting with me, which is kinda odd. Turned out, there’s this HR rule: when anyone notices something is wrong, it should be declared to the HR department.
She politely asked me for all the evidence and the timeline for what has been happening to me. She will be the one who submits the HR report.
I got a ticket notif from HR regarding a work violation that has been submitted for me.
The social media project that involved me got millions of engagements. The engineering director and product director congratulated me directly.
Andddd… those directors are two direct managers of Jerk. So, they invited me to a meeting, and both of them looked very angry and sad that this happened to me. They also made a written statement to defend me and take discipline for Jerk.
Things escalated very quickly, with the support of two of the directors. It pushed through more layers of investigation that would be reported to the VP.
Guess what, the VP is someone who I know very well because I always come to the office early in the morning, and we’ve met many times over coffee. He is a very friendly and humble guy! We mostly chatted about music because I am a singer (a professional hobby), and he likes to play guitar.
So, the next morning, the VP taps on my shoulder and asks me to sit with him.
Oh boy… He then asks for all the details and I explained the report doc to him regarding the timeline, Jerk’s disgusting remarks, my project that’s been taken away, and so on. All the evidence is there, and he immediately apologizes that this happened to me. He said: “You are under my responsibility. I run this ship, and this will NEVER be happening again.”
I got a formal email from HR that Jerk has been disciplined, and he lost his direct reports, meaning he is not my manager or anyone else’s manager.
I submit a 6 months’ leave because I am so stressed. Before I leave, I attended an all-hands meeting. The VP and COO presented the plan and… the enforcement of safety in the office. They discussed inclusive communication, diversity, and combat racism/discrimination. Both the VP and COO were directly looking at me most of the time. When the all-hands finished, the VP introduced me to the COO and praised me for my projects.
They are also aware that I was about to take my 6 months’ leave, and they said they will miss me but hope that I can take a good rest and have fun during my leave.
When I was on my leave, I was still able to access my work email. Jerk was fired, and he moved to another country. My colleagues told me that it’s been months he’s trying to get a job in the bay, but guess what?
His reputation was already tainted. Nobody wants to hire a Jerk, who’s a racist and is very discriminatory towards women.
During my leave, I applied to be transferred to another core project, just testing my luck. I got the job and moved to a new position after my leave.
Looking back, God helped me through this. The overwhelming support of kind people makes me feel blessed!
Last words: screw you jerk!”
15. Try To Run Me Over With Your Car? I'll Put A Giant Hole Through Your Hood
“It’s been 22 years, so I’m sure the statute of limitations is well past, but throwaway just because of massive property damage.
When I was 15, the neighbor’s 19-year-old son chased me down the road with his pride and joy, a 1980-something Trans Am. I don’t mean at a slow, joking pace, either. I was hauling butt on my bike trying to not get run the heck over, and he was leaning out the window laughing like a freaking idiot the whole way.
This happened dang near every morning I left for school, for the last month and a half of school that year. No one believed that anyone in the neighborhood, even that freaking loser, could be so psychotic.
Well, it pays to never mess with the son of a chemist.
My dad had all kinds of chemistry supply catalogs hanging around the house and willingly supplied me with odds and ends to do cool home experiments– he always drew the line at anything dangerously reactive, though, so no sodium, phosphorus, or any extreme-pH acids.
However, the components to make thermite are, by themselves, quite inert and safe.
I got dear old dad to order the stuff I needed by splitting it into 3 separate orders for different “experiments,” over a couple of week’s time. I made sure to do a couple of experiments with all the materials, and the leftovers were casually and quietly put aside for other, more nefarious purposes.
I then made it a point to learn my jerk neighbor’s routine. He started working at a late-night fast food joint and then seemed to go partying with friends. He frequently wasn’t home until 3 am and would commonly sleep until well past noon. Well, being the ingenious person that I was, I waited for school to start back up, and then I snuck over very very early in the morning when I was sure he’d be passed the heck out.
I stuck a 2″ diameter pipe to the hood of his car with some JB Weld, filled it with my homemade thermite, fused it, and took off for school.
When I got home from school, there was a massive melted scorch mark in his parents’ driveway that looked like the impact crater of a small moon, and that ugly freaking Trans Am was nowhere to be found.
I later found out that my concoction went off earlier than I had hoped for– I had tried to time it for around 10 am, when I would be solidly in the middle of classes with tons of witnesses that I was at school. It actually went off around 8:30 am, and instead of slagging over the entire engine as I had hoped, my use of the narrow pipe had caused the thermite to basically punch a hole right through the hood, head, block, and ignite the oil pan on its way to smoking a crater in the driveway.
I was never formally questioned about it, but a few months later, my father asked me in passing what happened to one of the components I had used in the thermite. I just shrugged and said I had tossed it, since it had no real use for anything else, and it had gotten damp, causing it to clump up and become worthless.
The only thing he said was, “I see…” and walked away with a little smile on his face.
I’ll never tell him, but I’m sure he knows.
The jerk-next-door lost his car, completely. Not only did I punch a hole right through it, but the sheer heat set off secondary fires on everything it touched, causing the car to go up like a gas-soaked rag. McLoser never really recovered from it, and I made it a point to ask him what happened to his “beautiful baby” every time I saw him.
Yeah, I’m a vicious jerk.”
14. Teacher Tells Me I'll End Up A Nobody, So I Clock Him In The Face
“This is probably my favorite. It’s from ages ago, but it still makes me grin.
In middle school, I was arrested on the third day of grade eight by school security (zip ties and not handcuffs, but still mortifying for a kid that age who did no wrong) and locked in a dark room (which was apparently an office, not that I could find a lightswitch) for half an hour, terrified and not knowing what was going on.
Finally, the counselor stepped in. A crazy family member had called social services because of a huge family spat that was going on. Long story short, that spat pretty much ruined my life and gave me major depression. Social services found nothing wrong, but a lot of other stuff happened and that counselor knew all about it.
Get into secondary school, halfway into grade nine we get a new counselor.
It’s her. I had to go to see her – I had major depression and just needed somebody to talk to, as other things were happening and I wasn’t in a good place. I had missed most of the previous year for being in and out of the hospital and it was just awful at home. We talk for a bit, and she’s fine, and soon looks at my grades, which were abysmal – I hated all of my teachers and they made me lose love for every subject.
She recommends I start going to a class that’ll help me: resource class. Pretty much a class that helps you with your work.
The teacher, when I get there, looks like a total jerk. No other way of describing it. The classroom was in a tiny closet above the library that formerly just led out to roof access. All of the kids there hated him as well, and I ended up making some of my best friends in that class.
We were all close and ended up hanging out a lot. Things didn’t really get bad that year, but I did hate him a lot.
The next year started, I was well into my third year of an abusive relationship. We were moved into a bigger classroom (I had failed the year and had to do it over again), and I hung out with everybody who had also failed thanks to that teacher doing jack the year before.
Over the course of the year, he broke my friend’s phone in two during a phone call to his foster mother who had landed in the hospital that day (back in the days when cell phones were quite expensive – it was his pride and joy), made fun of my friend for her disorder repeatedly, kicked me out of his class a few times for “looking at him wrong” and just generally got my group in trouble constantly.
It turned out that the counselor had relayed every single bit of info I had told her to this teacher without my permission. I walked in on Valentine’s Day, went up to his desk to get my worksheets, and he tells me he’s not going to teach me anymore because I was a no-good punk who didn’t dress respectfully and was going to end up crashing and burning this year anyway, so what was the point?
He brought up a lot of things and pretty much made fun of me for my mental problems.
I walked out, furious. Two days later, I came back after being convinced to go by my friend, as it was his last day before he got put back with his mother, as his foster mother of many years was on her deathbed, and would be moving cities.
We were very close and I decided to go. The teacher cornered me in his office (which was all glass and more like a glorified divider with a desk inside) and said that he refuses to teach me or have me in his classroom because I’d end up a single mother or getting a job as an adult entertainer. By this time, I was angry.
Pumped, even. I just was angry at everybody in my life.
I said, very calmly, “You don’t even know me.”
And I punched him in the face before walking away.
Standing ovation, got kicked out, but he never bugged any of my remaining crew again and at my next school, I was a legend. And I finally decided to stand up for myself.”
13. Coach Blames My Weight For Our Team's Shortcomings, Years Later, I Stop Him From Getting His Dream Job
“When I was in grade school, I was chubby; I wouldn’t even say fat. My small private school needed 5 players to have a basketball team and fell short at 4 since no other boys in my grade wanted to play (partially because the coaches were jerks and partially since they didn’t like sports).
I hated basketball quite a bit, but I knew how much the 4 who signed up loved it and looked forward to the season.
Anyway, one of the coaches decided to start calling me fat. It started when I couldn’t keep up with my other teammates since I was fatigued from recovering from the flu (but required to attend practice since I had attended school that day, and we’d be benched a game if we skipped practice) during some running drills (s******s).
Then he started calling me fat and other names on a more frequent basis, and I became the source of all blame for our poor record. Oh, we aren’t making free throws? That was my fault. Oh, we lost by 20 points? My fault. He continued to belittle my weight and thus the other players, and people I thought were my friends thought it was okay to do so as well (even during games, in front of the girls in our grade).
It shattered my self-esteem and left me with permanent damage. I am now a male with an eating disorder and have body dysmorphic disorder where I don’t see myself in the mirror as I really am. I always look overweight in the mirror, even when I at one point weighed 130lbs at 5’10”. I still have very severe anxiety which I am working on overcoming but mainly rely on medicine.
Anyway, I saw that same coach last year at a fancy restaurant. I am all grown up now (mid 20’s). I was out to dinner with a gorgeous blonde I was seeing at the time, so I decided to completely embarrass him as he had done to me for three years. Since I was now in perfect shape, looked great, and had a hotty by my side, I knew it was my turn to strike back.
I sat with my girl at the bar and waved to him. He waved back and looked confused until I approached his table where he was sitting with another man (who had a bunch of papers out on the table). I started it by disarming him of any alarm in his brain that might be saying (OH NO, IT’S THE KID I BELITTLED TO DEATH FOR THREE YEARS!).
I walked over and said, “Are you Coach K?” in an excited tone of voice.
He responded, “Yes I am.”
I then said, “Oh yeah, you used to be my basketball coach at XYZ Grade School! I am I_Just_Ordered_Food, remember me?”
He must have thought I had forgotten all about how mean he was, and he said, “Oh yeah, how are you?” with fake excitement.
I responded, “I am doing really, really well after years of not doing so well. You probably know me better as ‘fat’ or ‘fatboy,’ since that is what you called me for three years.”
And he began to say, “What uhh, I didn’t, what are you talking about?”
And then I continued, “Yeah, because of you, I developed very bad social anxiety which troubled me for years, and on top of that, I was depressed from when you started coaching me until a few years ago.
Unlike you, I lost weight. I saw your family at church the other day, and something occurred to me. You’re fat, your woman is fat and ugly, as are your children. That must really, really suck. I am now very successful and own my own company, drive my dream car, and go out with ladies I never thought would talk to me. Now, since for years you used inappropriate, adult words that weren’t allowed in my adolescent vocabulary, I am going to use an adult word or two: SCREW YOU!” I then promptly left with my girl.
He looked absolutely dazed and dumbfounded. The look on his face was that of, “Oh shoot… did that just happen?”
It gets even better. He was at that bar/restaurant to interview to take on a coaching position at a private high school (upgrading from middle school to high school). The athletic director heard what I said and didn’t hire him. I found this out when his partner called my parents and said that I had threatened to kill him, and he takes that very seriously, and I need to call and apologize, and because of me, he lost a great opportunity to be the head coach of a big high school basketball team.
I was beyond happy. It still makes me smile. I saved many youngsters from having to be tormented by that jerk. I never called and apologized, and I never threatened him… not quite sure where that part comes from.”
12. School Is In Session No Matter What? You Might Just Lose Your Job
“Both my children attended elementary school in the northern midwest. As you can imagine, it snowed. A lot. Even with all the snow removal infrastructure, when a particularly heavy storm came along, the town just couldn’t keep up with it, and the buses couldn’t run.
For decades, the school district dealt with this by having five snow days built into the calendar.
If they had more than five snow days, the kids would go an extra day(s) at the end of the year. For years, this system worked, and no one ever complained, except the occasional child that had to attend a couple of extra days in June.
Well, all good things must eventually come to an end.
The old, mild-mannered superintendent retired. A new super took his place. She was young, aggressive, and almost immediately reviled by everyone in the district. Let’s call her Sue because that’s what we ultimately did to her.
Sue came right out of corporate America. I don’t know how she got it in her head that she wanted to run a school district, but she did.
She was so inexperienced that the school board had to give her a waiver to work in our district before she could even show up for work. When the year started, Sue went on a power trip that made everyone’s heads spin. She slashed hours for support staff. Barred children from repeating a grade without her personal approval (what?!). ‘Cracked down’ on teachers taking sick time, until the union pointed out that she was violating the CBA by doing that.
Backed off a little but vowed to ‘go after’ any staff taking sick time. Stopped the weekly trip to the fitness center by the special needs class.
She was like a cartoon villain.
But what’s important to this story, she ended the decades-old snow day system. She took the days right out of the calendar and said we wouldn’t be needing them, as she was ‘cracking down’ on snow days.
Here’s how snow days work: the transportation department keeps an eye on the roads. If they are unsafe, or even if they are safe but the forecast is looking crazy for later, they tell the super they can’t safely run the buses. The super then cancels school. It’s really supposed to be the transportation department’s call.
Well, Sue decided that she is the sole arbiter of deciding cancellations, so even if transportation says it’s not safe to run the buses, she can say ‘tough luck.’ Which she did.
Often.
As you can imagine, this led to a lot of awkward and even dangerous situations. Buses not being able to access rural roads. Buses running an hour late. Buses running their entire route completely empty because no sane parent would send their kids to school in a whiteout blizzard.
For two years, we parents tolerated this dumbness, but needless to say, we were frustrated. We tried going through the proper channels.
Contacting the transportation department, writing to the school board. We even wrote a collective letter to Sue personally. Who, if the rumor is true, spat on our letter and tossed it in the bin.
Though we did get a nice message on the school department website about how they are always thinking about the safety of the students, so that’s nice I guess.
Things finally boiled over the winter of that second year.
A bus went off the road. Though my kids were not on it, it shook me up. There were numerous complaints on the school’s social media from scared and disgruntled parents. Two years of being the only district open in the county during storms was getting on everyone’s nerves.
My sister-in-law is a criminal defense attorney. I am a disability advocate with a state agency, so while I’m not an expert on the law like my SIL, I tend to know my way around.
We met for dinner and decided that, if and when the inevitable tragedy happened, we would sue. We met a couple more times to work on our game plan. You can’t sue a school district for making dumb snow day decisions, but if a kid gets hurt…
The day finally came in the late autumn of the third year of Sue. We had a big storm roll through in the early morning hours.
Not cold enough to snow or freeze, thankfully, but extremely windy. Most of the county lost power, including the schools. Thousands of outages. Power lines down, trees down, roads closed.
It was a mess. All the districts in the county closed. All of course, except ours. Sue was never one to turn down a chance at a power trip. She ordered the schools to stay open.
It was a disaster. Buses couldn’t access every road to pick up students. Buses were late. Individual schools were putting out bulletins that attendance was parent’s choice, students unable to make it to school would receive a Principal’s Excused Absence, stay home if it’s the safer choice.
Bear in mind that all the schools were running on generators. So the high schoolers (who start an hour earlier) were sitting in the gymnasium bored.
There was literally no point in having school this day.
Then, the inevitable happened. A tree fell and hit a bus. And this time, my daughter was on it. Thankfully, the driver did a good job of evacuating the children and there were only minor injuries. But injuries nonetheless all because of Sue’s absurd no cancellation policy. Some ambulances showed up. Four kids went to the hospital as a precaution.
It made the news.
It was time.
The district sent forms to all of the parents of injured children: they would cover all medical costs and provide counseling for the kids in the guidance office, AND a small cash settlement, in exchange for the parents signing a release of liability (‘you can’t sue us’).
But my SIL and I had gotten to the parents first and advised them not to sign ANYTHING, as we were taking the district to big boy court.
Some of the parents did take the settlement offered, which is understandable since not everyone likes drama. But some didn’t. Some told the district right where to shove that settlement. I was one of them.
SIL and I got together with a couple of the injured parents that were sick of the district’s nonsense. We got our paperwork in a row and filed a suit.
We filed the suit so fast that our hands burst into flames.
The essence of the suit was that the district had failed its duty of in loco parentis by making unsafe transportation decisions, directly causing the crash and injuries.
My SIL also pulled some strings at the local newspaper and got our lawsuit a small spot on the front page. Parents came out of the woodwork to express their support.
They were frustrated after years of Sue’s authoritarianism. It turned into a small media circus.
Well, the district’s lawyers got to work and really quickly saw that this was going to be a mess. A discovery process pulling up dirt, the parents of the injured children testifying, the general hatred of the district… Not to mention it appeared that they would, indeed, lose.
They moved quickly and quietly to settle this case. They basically sat down with us and said, ‘name your price.’
And while I cannot discuss the details of the settlement, let’s just say that all injured parties were made whole.
Also, the district changed its cancellation policy immediately. Now, if there was even a hint of snow or icky weather, they canceled. A welcome change of pace.
As for Sue, she became very quiet. She used to spend all day sending aggressive emails about her ‘policies.’ Now, hardly a peep. All she did the rest of the year was fill the seat. As summer approached at the end of the year, Sue announced her resignation.
She was leaving to ‘pursue other interests.’ We think she was asked to resign. She was replaced by a superintendent who was much nicer.
He rolled back all of Sue’s power trippy policies.”
11. Side Swipe My Beloved Car? I'll Take The Air Out Of Your Tire
“I remember during the holiday season at the retail chain where I worked some guy decided to be in a rush and take it out on poor BtrLatethenNvr. So the day was drawing to a close and I had just recently been promoted from the sales department to one of our service-based areas. So I am working away and then the phone rings. I am still not accustomed to answering it so my supervisor at the time picks it up.
I make nothing of it should just be another customer calling to set something up or to ask questions. “BtrLatethenNvr, the phone is for you.” Huh? who could it be and why would they be calling me.
“BtrLatethenNvr I was just walking into work, and this guy just parked his car next to yours REALLY CLOSE.”
“Ok, so?”
“Well, he parked it really close and slammed his door into yours pretty hard and I thought I would let you know.”
“Ok, cool, man. I appreciate you looking out for me like that. Did you see if there was any damage?”
“No, I couldn’t. He was there with his girl and didn’t want to make a scene.”
“Ok, no problem man I will go and take a look at it. Thanks again.”
I tell my supervisor that I am headed to my car really quick to check something out.
He asks if everything is ok, and I say I hope so. So at the time, I had my car parked in our lot with the passenger side next to a parking island/divider and the other side being mainly open spaces. So there was the island, my car, the customer’s car, and then another employee’s car. Now I can’t begin to describe how this guy managed to get his car in the way that he did.
The angle was crazy. There was little to no room for me to open the driver’s door, and he managed not to hit the other employee’s car. It was a tiny bit impressive but not given the circumstance.
I got to check my doors, and sure enough, the guy has decided to swap paint with me. My car now has some beige/champagne mark on it that is less than wanted. This is my first car; I am bummed. I take really good care of it and have wanted it for a very long time.
I saved all my birthday cash from grandma Btrlatethennvr and all my pennies for this thing. For someone to come over and just blatantly not have any regard for others or their belongings is just simply disrespectful. So what am I going to do? Should I take my freshly cut new key and leave a mark on his car? Should I break something? None of these ideas are appealing nor are they really right.
He did damage to my car that wouldn’t be easily fixed. Not on a high school kid’s salary that is. Far be it for me to return the favor. Karma my fellow readers, karma.
I look in my car and behold what do I find? A nice long flat head screwdriver. The kind you would use as a nice lever to pry two pieces of 2×4 apart or something.
Look around for witnesses none to be seen and I proceed with the operation. Kneel down in between our cars and start eyeing the wheel closest to mine. Yup, that is my target, and will do just fine. Take off the valve stem cap and let all the air out of the tire by depressing the valve stem pin with the screwdriver. Did you really think I was going to puncture or slash his tires?
C’mon now, I am better than that. I wouldn’t want that done to myself, and that is a big hassle.
Put the cap back on and the screwdriver back in the car. My supervisor walks over, and I fill him in on the situation.
“BtrLatethenNvr, now that you have been promoted, you can park on the other side of the store. We purposely don’t park here because of stuff like this and consider it an added perk of your promotion.
So move your car, and let’s wrap things up and go home.”
“AWESOME!”
So I move my car and go back to work going about things business as usual. So the time comes for me to leave work and since my car is right outside, instead of walking through the store, I walk to my car to drop something off and decided to walk in through the front to clock out and head home.
So I walk over to my car and look over to see if the guy is still there. Sure enough, he is. He is outside changing his tire with his girl standing behind him arms crossed not looking all too happy. That is what you get, man. If you had done what you had done to somebody else, the story may have been different. Just be lucky all I am costing you is some of your time and some free air from your local gas station.
…but wait, there is more. So I shrug it off, laugh, and proceed to the front of the store. I round the corner, and there is a cop car sitting there. Somebody must have tried stealing something, and we either caught them, or he got away with it, but we got their mug on camera. So I proceed to go inside and take care of a few things before I clock out and leave.
So I am about to walk out the front door and our Asset Protection person has to check our pockets for any product as always.
“Hey AP, why are the cops here?”
“You KNOW why the cops are here.”
“Huh? So something got stolen then huh? Was it anything big?”
“NO, BtrLatethenNvr, YOU KNOW why the cops are here.”
At that moment, I need to stop and think for a sec…
HOLY! The dude called the cops on me for letting the air out of his tire. OH MAN, I AM SCREWED. Luckily, names weren’t dropped, and the guy couldn’t identify my car; he just remembered it was black. I walked out past the cop car, looked at the guy still changing the tire, and drove off into the distance. Nothing was ever said again, but I would like to think I gave the guy what was coming to him.
A tire that he thought was slashed but simply out of air and one angry chick.”
10. A Wedding That Doubled As A Big Revenge Party
Two things to celebrate!
“This has to do with my friend’s partner (And her family) and my friend’s mom, the evil mother-in-law.
My friend’s lady’s family is of Sinti background. Now Sinti and Roma heritages have a bad reputation here in Germany.
They are called gypsies, and supposedly are all scam artists, which have no real home and travel around to be always two steps ahead of the law on their heels.
But her family is actually really well off, (in fact quite a bit richer than the mother-in-law but she did not know that. The mother-in-law has never asked, decided that her prejudices are a better source of information than simply asking since all gypsies lie?) has lived in Germany for well over 30 years and owns their own company that produces motor parts for several big car and truck companies.
Now how much the company is worth is really not all that important, but to paint a picture – they employ well over 250 people just in production alone, and on top of that, all the other staff from IT, over clerks and what not.
The mother-in-law’s family is typical middle class, nothing much to say there which makes the mother-in-law’s assumption that she is a golddigger hilariously wrong.
My friend’s Dad works an office job, and his mom (the mother-in-law) works delivering medicine for a pharmacy a couple of hours a week.
Now since there was so much leading up to the wedding, here’s basically what happened and most of what the mother-in-law did was typical just-no behavior.
In the first year of the relationship, the mother-in-law pretty much ignored her son had a partner until she saw a photo and realized the daughter-in-law is a few shades too brown for her taste (her words).
A friend then explained to the mother-in-law that the girl is Sinti, and she lost it even more. It boiled down to her being a golddigger or scam artist or constantly switching between the two. But my friend has a steel spine, and it ended in her being in a timeout for 6 months, which became over a year since every time the mother-in-law tried to force contact, the time out started again at zero.
Once contact was established again, the mother-in-law had realized open warfare was not something she could win, so she decided to switch to guerilla tactics.
The absolute highlight was creating two fake social media profiles, one for my friend, and one for his ex, with which he had spent 4 years of his life, at this point. She sends back and forth texts for months, to create a fake affair.
My friend had 4 weeks prior to a 4-day business trip for his company. The texts basically claimed his ex had come with him and they had wild hook-ups every night. What the mother-in-law did not know was that my friend never went there. It fell through a week prior, and he took the days off instead to do a short trip with his girl.
So he had the best possible alibi for the time, being with the woman he supposedly was unfaithful with 24/7.
Otherwise, I don’t know what would have happened on the day the mother-in-law came into the house with printed-out screenshots from that page. At first, the girl was devastated and angry, until they found the messages about the business trip. At that moment, they both turned on the mother-in-law, who of course denied everything. It landed her in 9 months’ time out again.
The rest until the engagement was a flow of constant hints (the mother-in-law appeared to have learned her lesson about open attacks and racist rants at least) of her not being trustworthy, bringing up news stories that showed Sinti in a negative light, etc., etc.
But since they were low-contact (meeting twice a year and a few phone calls), she did not have many opportunities. Then came the engagement about 1 year before the wedding. The daughter’s family was over the moon of course (they are very just, but describing them in detail too would make the story too long), while the mother-in-law had a complete meltdown over the phone (she said she would stop this wedding if it is the last thing she does with her life).
The actual wedding planning began, and it was a total nightmare.
When she was asked for an address list, she actually gave them false addresses, in the hopes that once the cards would have been returned, it would be too late to send a new batch to the actual addresses. Of course, the cards came back within a week, and this time they were smart enough to ask someone else for the addresses, and simply did not tell her.
The mother-in-law started a rumor campaign, that was at least partially successful, so the contact to his side of the family got worse and worse.
She tried to just cancel the flowers, but since the florist knew the bride in person, he called her to confirm. After that everything was secured with passwords. This way they found out she also tried to cancel the venue, change the whole menu (most of the bride’s side of the family is vegetarian, and she tried to change it to an all-meat menu), and other shenanigans.
Finally, came the thing that made my friend and his fiance snap and decide it was time to show the witch who is boss. He had found out (thanks to his brother, who had volunteered to work as a spy in the enemy camp – he acted like he was on his mother’s side when in reality, he was firmly in his brother’s camp) that all the women on his side planned to come in black mourning clothes, to make it clear this was not a day of joy for them, but a day of mourning since her son made the biggest mistake of his life.
But since they wanted to embarrass her to the bone they acted as if they knew nothing, and decided to exact their revenge on the wedding day. IMPORTANT: this was a good 4 months before the wedding, so it gave the young couple ample time to plan.
The day of the wedding arrives. All the guests have entered the church and are sitting down. The guests are informed that the wedding party will be late by about half an hour, but they would show a DVD in the meantime.
That DVD? It was explosive.
They had collected evidence, and witness accounts detailing exactly how sneaky the mother-in-law had tried to sabotage the wedding. It started with an account from the food caterer that she had tried several times to change the menu. Followed by the florist’s story about how she had tried to cancel all the flowers for the wedding (including a message she left on the answering machine trying to act like she was the daughter-in-law but everybody who knew her could hear it was the mother-in-law’s voice).
Up to this point, the mother-in-law had been shocked into silence.
But the next part would change that. You see the groom’s brother had secretly recorded how she trash-talked and lied about the daughter-in-law to everybody who would listen to her on Skype (the brother simply installed spy-software that recorded everything, emails, Skype, etc. and created a highlight reel, after all, she used his computer to do all that).
Once she started to hear those words, she suddenly screeched and stormed to the front to stop the DVD from playing. But everyone had anticipated that, so before she could even get close, 3 gentlemen closed in on her and told her to either sit down or she would be escorted off the premises.
The film only went on for another 3 or so minutes anyway, and they escorted her back to her place.
Where was the bride’s family in all this?? They had already had a full showing of the video the day before but were sworn to secrecy. So they acted as normally as they could until the DVD was finished.
Now once the film was over, the brides’s father went up to the altar with his partner and addressed the family of the groom. He told them the following: ‘Our daughter could have accepted you do not like her and has tried for years to have a good relationship with all of you, especially with mother-in-law, but to no avail.
Our daughter was either insulted or shut down. Finally, they started to plan the wedding, and mother-in-law was trying everything to ruin this very special day for the two of them. And so, they finally had enough.
The couple has decided your side of the family does not deserve to be at the wedding. I hereby inform you that there will not be a wedding today at all.
They changed the wedding date months ago. My daughter and your son got married a week ago at ‘XX location’ and let you believe the wedding would be today. That way we could ensure there would be no further evil plans to ruin this young couple’s wedding, and we all had a wonderful wedding. Without any of you there it was a day of joy, and a day where everybody was happy for the couple and acted very supportive.
Right now they are already on their honeymoon and will return in four weeks. Since the wedding was so much smaller than originally planned, they had a way bigger budget for their honeymoon.
Once they return, they do not want any contact with any of you for a year. After that, they are ready to get into contact again under certain requirements, which you will be told once the year is over.
As mother-in-law will be able to confirm, they will remain very strict to this rule. ANY attempt to contact them in any form leads to the perpetrator’s year to start again at zero. I suggest you take the year to reflect on your behavior and decide what is more important to you, to have your son and his new lady in your life, or to treat my daughter badly, because right now he is ready to cut contact for good.
But I talked him into giving you one last chance.’
Friends and family stayed very silent during this speech, probably shocked and embarrassed into silence.
The mother-on-law was not the only one in the family treating the daughter-in-law badly, but she was the reason for it. They are back in contact with most of the family, but definitely not the mother-on-law. After the year was over, some family members sheepishly apologized and told the couple about all the lies they were told.
But the brother, using his evidence, showed the family how mother-in-law triangulated, lied, tricked, etc.
Today, the mother-in-law is a pariah from at least 80% of the family.”
9. Steal My Full-Bred Dog? Time To Lose Your Job
“I adopted a full-breed husky in the Pacific Northwest.
We named him Toby but after a while, he developed the name Real Big Toby. He wasn’t a huge husky or malamute but boy did he look beautiful and boy was his personality ‘really big.’ He had one blue eye and one brown eye which never failed to trip people out.
On top of that, he was a huge ham, loved attention, and would actually talk to you about how his day was going.
It got to the point where it was kind of stupid to put him on a leash. I would tell him to stay when I went into class for example, and he’d be passed out or getting the chicks to scratch his belly when I came out.
Every time. The dean of the college even knew him on a first-name basis and started to bring his dog into work after watching Real Big Toby do his thing.
At the time I lived in a mountain town, attended college, and was an avid mountain biker so having a dog that would happily and easily do 30 miles in a day was cool. He would follow us everywhere we went.
My mountain bike was my only source of transportation so we became very in tune with one another. He was a husky, after all, so you could tell when he ran that this was exactly what he was born to do.
Toby was such a super good boy. He listened, paid attention, and never left my side. He had a seat designated for him on the deck at the local coffee shop which meant you had to walk by him and try to resist giving him a scratch if you wanted to go inside.
It got to the point where just about everyone in this fairly small town got to know Toby on a first-name basis.
Every once in a while on mountain bike runs we would get separated or Toby would just get sidetracked on the way down the hill. It was such a small town that, in the few times it happened, he was back with me by the end of the day.
The police all knew him from around town, the pound knew him so if anyone called they’d just give them my number.
One day it happened again. He got lost on the way down the hill. Only this time, he didn’t come back. No call. Nothing. For days. It got to the point where I started asking around town. If you’ve ever lived in a small town you know it’s hard to keep a secret.
After about a week, a friend says he saw Toby and tracked the guy down and gave him my number. He never called. After searching and trying to find this guy I finally got a breakthrough.
He worked at the college!
Now, I am aware of how stupid people can be when they receive an animal. Toby was RIPPED. You could see his muscles bulging out of his fur.
He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him because he was in excellent shape. I fed him mostly a raw diet and what kibble he did get was the best you could buy. The first thing out of this guy’s mouth was to tell me that he’s keeping my dog. ‘You don’t take care of him. You don’t even feed him and he’s such a good dog.
He will be better off with me,’ he said.
I became enraged.
Well, as I mentioned, he worked at the school I attended. I also mentioned the Dean hammed it up with Toby on a nearly daily basis. I didn’t mention I had the Dean’s home number, though, so a call Saturday morning resulted in Toby being returned to me later that day.
This guy had the nerve to, along with Toby, bring me a 50lb bag of the worst store brand of dog food you could buy. ‘I bought you this so you could feed him.’ Rage.
Come to find out this guy was in charge of a research project for the school.
It was very easy to figure out where his office was. I went to his office with a plan for returning his food and chewing him out in front of his colleagues.
He wasn’t at his desk so I did the most natural thing I could possibly do… I turned the 50lb bag of dog food upside down on his desk, computer, and stacks of papers to the point where it formed a perfect mountain on top of his keyboard. Truly an awesome sight.
Knowing loose lips sink ships, I didn’t tell anyone but my close friends.
The school brought misconduct charges against me.
The hearing was in front of a board of other students and staff and well ‘I don’t know what happened to the bag of dog food. I was telling the story to a bunch of guys and one of them asked me for the bag. That’s the last I saw it.’ All charges were dropped.
The jerk that tried to steal Real Big Toby had it much much worse. 50 freaking pounds of dog food on top of your research project, as it turns out, doesn’t bode well with management. For reasons unknown, 2 days later he was fired from the college.
Not only did they fire him but put a restraining order on him and had to change the locks to the building.”
Another User Comments:
“I got so angry at the dude for trying to steal your dog! Thankfully you didn’t go “full John Wick” on him! If I was in your place, I don’t know if I would have been able to keep my temper when he told you he was keeping your dog!” Musicismoksha
8. Next Time, Be Mindful Of The Fact That You Have Neighbors
“Back in my military days (1993), I was STUCK with a roommate who couldn’t sleep without listening to music. It was miserable because even if I buried my head in a pillow I could still hear it.
All night long.
My FIRST night with him, I thought he forgot to turn his boom box off.
I figured I could work out an ‘agreement’ with him. With some passive-aggressive resistance, he reluctantly agreed to one night without music and one night with music. This awful agreement sucked! I was always tired. I never slept well because on the so-called nights with ‘no music,’ he would attempt to get up in the middle of the night to turn it on ‘low’ so that he could still have his music all night.
I would get up and tell him about our agreement.
I was fed up. I talked with the dorm manager and pleaded with them to notify me as soon as another room became available.
Things came to a head when he wanted to borrow my stereo one night because he didn’t have his. He loaned his boom box radio to someone else. He came over to my side of the room on his ‘night of music,’ and I told him, ‘Don’t touch my stuff.’ He was livid because I broke the agreement.
I couldn’t stand hearing a blaring tape cassette playing all night, so I told him that I’m not losing sleep with my own radio. ‘SO THAT’S HOW IT’S GONNA BE???’ He shouted. I told him, ‘Yup, get your own radio.’ So the war was on.
Let’s make a long story short. The dorm manager finally told me that there will be an available room I can have all to myself!!!
HALLELUJAH!!!
So luckily, I’ve only had one more miserable night with no sleep with this dude as my roommate.
He brought in a brand new super expensive CD player. When he left for a moment, I put a super thin layer of Vaseline on the lens of the player so that the CD wouldn’t play.
All night, he kept messing with the CD player boom box trying to get it to play.
The following morning, it was my moving day. I was almost finished moving when I saw him still struggling with the CD player.
I asked him, ‘Did you ever think to clean the laser lens?’ He said, ‘I didn’t think of that.’ So, I took a T-shirt and wiped it clean, and told him to try now. It played (just like I thought). He was so excited and happy that he told me, ‘MAN, YOU SAVED MY DAY.’ He was going to take it to an electronics store to have them repair it.
Instead, he gave me $70.00 for cleaning it. Severance pay for 3 months of misery. I’ll take it.”
7. He Clearly Doesn't Have A Clue How Architecture Works
“I had a jerk of a teammate for an entire semester. He would sit in the corner of the room the entire semester saying he’s working but often just watching Glee.
But whenever the prof rolled into the classroom, he would pop right up and proceed to tell the prof about all the progress we have made. But of course, when midterm comes around, he had absolutely nothing to show for. He then goes around to everyone – the poor TA, the rest of the team, members of the other team, for help. Of course, it’s really hard to conjure up a midterm project overnight when all you’ve been doing all semester is watching Glee over and over again.
But alas, this was a team project in Architecture, and having a big blank where the classroom buildings are supposed to be in our piazza would have been bad. So the rest of the team and the poor TA all jump in and have an all-nighter to basically do his project.
It’s around this time that everybody in the program realizes what a dumb loser he was.
He had the slightest clue how buildings work or how to design them. This one instance, he and the rest of the team had an argument about where walls and floors meet. We were all designing a traditional Italian masonry house, and he swears that every floor should be two to three feet larger than the perimeter of the walls, resulting in all floors sticking out of the walls, and that that’s how we should build his model.
This kid, an architecture student in his third year into the program doesn’t know how walls and floors work!
Despite his ignorance and his lack of effort, he would shake his tail in front of the professor, and make snide comments about his one and only friend and how much his work was better than his friend’s. They no longer talked by the end of the semester.
The prof wasn’t an idiot and caught this on pretty quick though, and while the rest of the team got a perfect mark he got a c – a grade too high for him in my opinion. But this was before the finals came around.
By the season of finals the rest of the team realized that if we want to have a good project, we should do his work for him.
If you know any Architecture students, you know we are known for our ability to stay up and slave away at a project day and night. But not this kid, every night at around 11 pm, he would stop watching Glee, tell the rest of the team how much of a headache he has and that he needs to go to sleep. At first, we tried to tell him that he can’t go to sleep without having anything done a week before the final, but soon we noticed how the project flowed more enjoyably when he was gone, and didn’t care to stop him.
So every day since two weeks before finals, we worked on our individual projects, and come 11 pm, we would do his project for another 2-3 hours. He caused several scenes in the studio, which oftentimes ended with him making a girl cry or angering everyone in the program and 100% of the time proving what an ignorant jerk he was.
Next year, I got a job in the department.
I managed the social media page and other social media groups for the department. It didn’t take me long to find out about the option to delete people from the page. So every now and then, every time he ticked me off, I would delete him from the page. It wasn’t a big deal, he missed some announcements about guest lectures that he never even went to and missed out on some fun comments on the page at most. But it made my week to delete him off and another week when I would see that he “liked” the page again.
This would happen two to three times until I permabanned him as I left the position.
For all the jerkiness and idiotic theories he tried to shove down my throat, and all the hours I spent working on his project, the revenge was petty, but gosh darn it, I was trembling with power and excitement when I first deleted him from the page.
He then switched majors and is working to get a structural engineering license to design buildings near you.”
6. Think You Can Bully Me? I'll Guilt Trip You With My Hospital Visit
“When I was in high school I was bullied by my “best friend.” It sounds weird, but it’s depressingly common.
I was a socially awkward weirdo and I didn’t really know how to make friends very well, so I hung out with this girl (Who I’ll call “E”), so I wouldn’t look like a loner. Yeah, high school logic, but I digress.
I was friends with “E” since we were around 8 years old. There were times where she would be moody and irritable, but we generally got along ok.
I remember my mother telling me that she thought “E” was weird because whenever I invited her to my house, she wouldn’t speak in front of anyone but me and would follow me around like a shadow. I didn’t think this was strange at the time but thinking about it now, it was a bit creepy. Whenever I was at her house she used to get mad whenever I tried to talk to her sister or mother, so she always dragged me off so she could only have me to herself.
Again, I thought nothing of it of the time but it should have started ringing some alarm bells.
Fast forward to high school. “E” starts hanging around with another girl. We’ll call her “G.” I didn’t mind my tiny social group being expanded, but “G” and “E” soon started going off together, talking about me behind my back and even talking about me right where I could hear them.
They would constantly belittle and make fun of me for the smallest things (how my hair looked, what brand of bag I carried my stuff in, if I happened to look in a certain direction etc.) But the strange thing is that “E” would still get clingy and jealous whenever I tried to talk to anyone but her. She and “G” had this psychological grip on me that I couldn’t be “friends” with anyone except them and they treated me like the poop on the bottom of their shoes.
I couldn’t go to school without feeling sick, worried, and scared about what the words and actions of those two girls would do to me.
During my second year of high school, I had to be taken into the hospital and I wasn’t in school for at least three weeks. I was at the hospital for a condition completely unrelated to the bullies, but they felt like they had caused it.
So much so that they apologized for the way they treated me (slightly half-hearted, badly written apologies on scrappy bits of paper, but it was something), and “G” felt so horrible about the way she treated me that she left the school and I never saw her again. “E” was still around, but she never really spoke to me again and she always seemed to shrink into her quiet old self whenever I approached her.
I made new friends who liked me for who I really was, my self-esteem improved, and I’m really happy with where my life is taking me now.”
5. Landlord Loses His Chick
Now he’s single again!
“My first apartment out of college, I lived next door to my landlord in an old, broken-down building.
The walls were paper-thin, so I could hear everything and knew a lot about him.
He was an addict named Blaine who lived with his girl. They frequently got into loud fights that included screaming and throwing things. Blaine referred to his girl as ‘the woman I am cohabitating with,’ and she referred to him as her ‘fiance,’ although I knew from eavesdropping that he had never proposed.
Blaine and his girl were unethical business people with a bad reputation in the community.
I had no pets but came home one day to find a note taped to my door. The note was hand-written in red ink (very unprofessional) and stated that they had discovered my ‘illegal pet’ on the premises and that I was going to be evicted in 3 days.
I left Blaine a voicemail explaining that there must be a mistake because I did not have a pet.
I even offered to let him walk through my apartment to check. He ignored my call. I typed a letter stating the same thing. He ignored it. On the third day, I was scared that my possessions were going to be thrown out, so I called the police. The policeman listened to my story, and while I was talking, we heard Blaine and his girl arguing in the next unit over, so we knew they were home.
The policeman knocked on the door. The window shades were open, and we could see Blaine walk up to the window. He saw me standing there with the policeman, drew the shades, and walked away. Never answered the door.
The police took care of Blaine, but I decided to get back at him. Having heard all the fights with his girl, I went on the web to multiple battered-woman websites and signed up for subscriptions in her name and address.
Within a week, they had a barrage of mail about domestic violence and a visitor from social services.
One day, Blaine came knocking at my door. It was the first time I’d seen him since the ‘illegal pet’ situation. He apologized profusely, blamed it all on his now-ex, and offered to lower my rent. Then, before leaving, he said, ‘By the way, if you see my ex creeping around, call the police.’
‘Why would she be creeping around?’ I asked.
‘We broke up, and all her stuff is still in my garage. I’m not planning to give it back,’ he replied. ‘Actually, you should come look and see if you want anything before I burn it all.’
Sure enough, that night, he held a bonfire in the yard and burned all her possessions. I was worried because fire and addicts don’t tend to mix well, so I called the fire department and reported it.
I watched out my back window as the fire truck pulled up, and Blaine ran away. That was the last time I ever saw him.”
4. Be The World's Worst Mother-In-Law? Hope You Enjoy Brushing Your Teeth Now
She deserved so much more than that, but this will have to do for now.
“My mother-in-law is the worst person in the world.
When my woman was pregnant, all 3 of us had to share a house – her mom’s reason was that she’s a worthless witch and got kicked out of her last place. My woman and I were just trying to save some cash.
The things this old woman did, holy heck.
Tried splitting my woman and me up on numerous occasions.
Would tell everyone that I was abusing both of them.
Stomp around late at night on the main floor to wake us up; we lived in the basement. And it got worse once our son was born.
Often, when we would have dinner, we would leave the plates in the sink for an hour or two and do them when our boy went to bed. She would stack our dirty dishes and take them downstairs and leave them in front of the door.
Play her awful Ukrainian polka music late at night. Loudly.
Constantly make fun of us, and me in particular, about how we were raising our son.
She would usually get home before me so she would hide my mail.
Send threatening letters to my parents. Didn’t find out about this until a couple of months ago. Found a handwritten note from her to my woman recently, and it’s the same as the letters.
We moved out of there before my boy turned 1, so I doubt he remembers this, but my woman told me that she caught her mom telling him that his dad is an idiot.
Of all the things she has done, this is the worst, and I can’t forgive her for it: being new parents and all, the first year of my child’s life should have been a wonderful experience.
He’ll only be a baby once, and we should have been able to enjoy the wonderful world with him. But with my MIL and all her nonsense, we constantly had to worry about what craziness she would do, and she ruined that first year for us. I look back at those times, and I can’t really remember witnessing my boy growing. I can just recall her nonsense, and I hate her for it.
On to the revenge part: When we moved out, I took a couple of days off work to deal with it. At the end of it all, we had left a few small things behind that I could pick up in my car. The MIL had also left a box of things for my woman to take that I was supposed to get.
So early afternoon of the last day, I go over there and notice she’s at work.
I can go freely throughout the house. I check all the rooms to make sure I had grabbed everything and I come to her bathroom. I see her toothbrush sitting on the counter. I had an idea. I had been working hard all day moving and was pretty sweaty. So I figured I’d clean myself with her toothbrush. I whip it out and scrub every inch of myself.
Everywhere. And holy smokes, it felt amazing.
I leave it in the same spot that I found it and go home. I never told a soul, and she never said anything about it. But I know she used it afterward.
Freaking witch.”
3. Now He'll Always Be Paranoid About Smelling Like Fish
“A couple of years ago, I participated in a student exchange program in Belgium, and obviously I had to quickly find an apartment after my arrival.
I was very lucky and found an incredible offer: a nice big loft with a roof garden, reasonably cheap and very close to my university.
The only downside was that the current occupier was not the official landlord: he had a long-term lease but was forbidden by contract to sublet the apartment himself. He was himself going on a student exchange program and had to quickly find someone to rent his apartment (which is how he explained the rent was so cheap).
He seemed like a wealthy, trustworthy guy so I didn’t mind having an ‘off the books’ deal with him.
This ended up being my demise.
When I moved in, the apartment was not in excellent condition. All the utilities were included in the rent, which was a big plus for me considering that it was January and electricity prices in Belgium are pretty high. The central heating was broken, but the landlord was ‘kind enough’ to buy me two small electric heaters that I could use in the living room and in my bedroom.
Strangely enough, my landlord had some kind of defect/disease that stopped him from having a sense of smell (he warned me his girl would be able to smell if I had smoked in the apartment).
I never smoked in the apartment (although I am a big smoker) because the landlord told me he was very opposed to smoking. As is customary in many European countries, he had asked for a deposit of around 1,600 euros (2 months’ rent) to be paid back in full on the condition that there were no damages.
Although not in a written contract, I still give him the deposit because he left all his appliances (including CD/DVD collection and speakers, furniture, television, consoles, etc.) which I considered to be collateral.
As months went by, I paid my rent to his mother (still in Belgium) on time, had a great time, and did no damage to the apartment.
I had a minimal but courteous email relationship with the landlord, who never complained about anything I might have done.
The landlord came back a couple of days before I was preparing to move out.
He came to visit the apartment and check for damages and I was expecting him to hand me a brown envelope with the 1,600 euros he owed me after he had noticed there were no damages whatsoever. When he entered, he had a clearly fake and exaggerated disgusted look on his face.
He explained that the apartment was dirty and that I needed to clean it before I received the cash (which was not part of our verbal agreement).
I had cleaned the apartment entirely to the best of my ability and to an extent any landlord would have found more than reasonable.
He proceeded to show me all the wall-stains (almost all of them already there), dust under the oven (yes, under the oven), rust on some pipes under the sink, etc. Basically, he wanted me to clean the apartment as if he was about to sell it, and, remember, the apartment was definitely not cleaned when I moved in.
He offered to pay and go get some cleaning products for me, which he would bring back shortly. I assumed he would also help me clean with his girl, but nope.
He came back and basically ordered my girl and me around like maids while he and his girl were doing nothing.
This was, still to date, the most humiliating and frustrating experience of my life.
I knew that I had to obey his commands because I would never get my 1,600 euros back if I didn’t. I probably could have legally challenged him somehow but I was leaving the country a few days later and I preferred to swallow my pride and move on with my life.
Scumbag landlord, after 2-3 hours, seemed pleased with my work and instructed me to meet him at a café the next day to hand over the cash.
I arrived at the meeting early the next day, hungover as heck, ready to get my cash and get the heck out of Belgium (my flight was the next day). He did not have the cash with him. After I left the day before, he had called the utility company and realized that he had an outstanding statement of around 2,000 euros.
Apparently, those little electric heaters consumed a heck of a lot of energy.
I could/should have anticipated this, but as the utilities were ‘included’ and I had never thought of checking the evolution of my electricity consumption on the meter (which I had to unscrew a plank of wood to access anyways).
Scumbag landlord, after having made me clean his apartment from top to bottom, was asking for the 400 euros I owed him. He was even threatening to show up at the airport the next day and stop me from leaving if I didn’t!
After calling the utility company myself, we went together to their offices and realized the balance was actually something around 1,400 euros (not the landlord’s mistake).
I only received 200 euros in return.
I had never been so furious in my life and could barely stop shaking for the next hours. I wanted so much to get revenge, but I only had one night left in the apartment.
I was also legitimately scared that he would show up at the airport (I should mention that he was a big guy and a Muay Thai fighter). I had to somehow delay the effects of the revenge so that they would be only noticeable after I was gone.
This excluded the obvious damages to the property, which was my initial idea. That’s when all the pieces fit together in my mind and my evil plot was hatched.
After sharing the idea with my girl, we went to the nearest fish store and bought something like 10 euros worth of fish leftovers usually purchased to make fish stock or soup (my best estimate is something like 2-3 kilos of fish bones, and fish gunk).
For the next couple of hours, I blended the fish with a lot of water, took out the chunks, and filled up spray bottles with a murky but very liquid fish mixture.
I sprayed that fishy water everywhere, but I really mean everywhere. Under the oven, behind the furniture, on the floor, the walls, the ceiling, between the drawers of his desk, under his mattress, and even on the clothing he had originally left in storage when I moved in. There is no way he could smell the fish, and he probably would not have received complaints from the neighbors until they were rotten and stinking out the whole building.
To this day, I do not know how my fishy revenge turned out.
I can only imagine that his friends told him he smelled like trash and/or that his apartment smelled of rotting sea creatures, by which time it would have been too late to reverse anyway. It probably cost him a whack of cash to professionally clean his house and I sincerely hope he is still paranoid about smelling like fish but nobody wants to admit it to him.”
Another User Comments:
“Another way to go about this type of revenge is with a milk bomb. Buy a giant glass jar and fill it with milk and deposit a chicken inside of it before sealing. Hide it someplace it can’t be found, and it will putrify, and as the gases build, will eventually shatter the glass spraying everywhere. It is truly horrible.” Dakadaka
2. Be Unfaithful To Me? I'll Get Your Lying Butt Sent To Prison
“I met a guy while vacationing in California one summer, a really nice guy and he always wanted to do something fun and different every day.
From hiking, paintballing, swimming, or going out on the ocean.
After the vacation ended, we kept in touch and over the course of the next year, we decided I would move to California.
I work in healthcare as a nurse so getting a job almost anywhere isn’t tough, but as the new nurse, your hours are going to be bad. No surprise, so after we’ve lived together for a few months and working terrible hours, they go back to normal hours and we can really spend more time together.
I’m not really one to snoop around, he had a safe in the bedroom where we kept basic safe stuff like passports, SS cards, birth certificates, etc., but one day I had to produce my birth certificate and had to go into the safe while he wasn’t home.
I found my birth certificate easily but next to it was a birth certificate with an entirely different name and DOB than what his was so I asked him about it and he got super defensive and yelled at me for snooping.
Totally out of character for him as I’ve never seen him yell before. I still wanted to know what was up and based on his reaction and the fact I moved to a different state to be with him, I deserved to know if he was hiding anything.
A few days later he finally tells me the truth, he used to be married and has twins.
This caught me off guard because normally you tell someone you are in a relationship with if you have kids.
That doesn’t bother me as much as him using a different name, however.
So he decides this is the time to be totally honest with me, tells me he didn’t want to pay child support or alimony because she was unfaithful to him but he couldn’t prove it in court and he believed the kids weren’t his (even though he also admitted they did a paternity test and he’s the father…huh).
So he simply started using his old friend’s name and information that he for some reason had after they were college roommates.
So, so many red flags are now flying.. why did he have his roommate’s birth certificate and social security number? He never did answer that and Googling the name never did turn anything up.
Then he decided to admit he’s been unfaithful to me ever since I moved out here since we are ‘being honest’ and he finally could share his life with someone.
WHAT.
So I moved out that very night to sleep on another nurse’s couch. He, however, refused to leave me alone and eventually started to threaten me over the phone.
Big mistake, you just admitted to skipping out on child support, alimony, court orders, and identity theft. I started looking up his hometown and state (one thing he didn’t seem to lie about) and found public records of his divorce and tracked down his ex-partner on social media.
After she finally responded about a week later, she confirmed from pictures it was him and was really interested in knowing where he was. Turns out he not only skipped out on child support and alimony but he also stole her car years ago when he left and opened several credit cards in her name before he decided to leave town and was wanted for all of that.
I mildly kept in touch with him telling him I needed time to figure it all out before we could try again. About two months later, he was arrested and began proceedings to get him transported back to his home state.
He did call me from jail for about a week but I refused to pay for the calls. He then had his attorney contact me and I told his attorney that if he ever contacted me again I’d call the cops for harassment.
I then started searching his name and everything through his home state’s court access site and found out he was sentenced to 6 years for the credit cards, motor vehicle theft, theft of a firearm, and contempt of court charges.
I kept in contact with his ex for a bit, she was thankful they finally found him. Also for a bit more on top of it all, it turns out once he gets out of prison in his home state, he will be arrested and charged for the stuff that they uncovered and figured out in California over the past few years.
Turns out he also did a good amount of credit card fraud out there.
So don’t threaten to ‘smash’ someone’s face in for breaking up with you if you are committing identity theft and are on the run from child support.”
Another User Comments:
“My ex also did this once.
He was unfaithful to me on Valentine’s Day with his ex (who was the archnemesis for my dramatic 16-year-old teen-self), and on top of that, it was while I was recovering in the hospital from surgery.
6 months later, he confessed, totally out of the blue, and then he was really angry that I was upset because it was such a looong time later.
I never celebrated another Valentine’s Day.” Reddit user
1. Start An Affair After Several Months Of Being Together? That Can Go Both Ways
And it WILL go both ways.
“This goes all the way back to the 80s. I was in the Navy at the time, my ship was stationed in Brooklyn. I was seeing a very cute but innocent (claimed she was pure and planned on staying that way) strawberry blonde with an astonishing body. I was with her for several months, determined to erode her resistance and have my way with her.
Didn’t happen. Try as I might (and O’ brother, I tried), the deed was never done. There was much heavy petting, but no other intimacy was had.
One night, we went out, and before we even got to our usual hang out, she burst into tears and kept saying that she was a horrible person. I tried to comfort her, asked her what was wrong, etc., but that was all I could get out of her.
I did my best to find out what was wrong, but in the end, all I could do was take her back to her house. The next day, back on my ship, I was walking down the passageway, and around the corner comes this little hillbilly southern guy (another crewmember). He looks up and sees me, turns white as a ghost, and bolts back the way he came.
It was puzzling behavior; this guy and I had never had any issues between us that I could recall, so all I could do was scratch my head and shrug it off.
Let me confess at this point that I was quite the naive young guy in my day. That night my girl claimed she was not feeling well, so I went out on my own.
I ran into some of her friends and chatted them up, trying to find out if any of them knew what was going on with her. The way they all shut up and spent the rest of the night avoiding me indicated that they did. Eventually one of them drank enough to tell me that she had overheard my girl telling one of the other girls that she had gotten intoxicated the previous afternoon at the base pool (taken there as a guest of the woman of a shipmate), and something had happened between her and some guy in his car in the pool parking lot.
Some guy? Well, darn, some guy that might now be suddenly terrified at the sight of me? By this time, it was too late to call my girl and grill her over the phone (her father was an NYPD captain… not a good idea to anger him). So I just went back to the ship.
I never told the little hillbilly kid that I knew that something happened (if not what), but I did dump my girl.
Months pass.
Little hillbilly’s lady comes to Brooklyn to visit her man. Wow, who knew he was in a committed relationship? The two of them show up at our usual hangout, both already well intoxicated. I got one of the girls I knew in the place to chat the hillbilly woman up and let her know that her man had been unfaithful to her with my girl.
Hillbilly woman loses it on her man and storms out of the bar. I follow, and gallant white-knight that I am, offer her a ride. She does not, at this point, know that I am the other aggrieved party in this sordid little affair. But I let her talk, and sympathize, and suggest we go get a drink, an idea to which she was all too amenable.
We drank, we talked. She drank a lot. The truth of her partner’s infidelity is revealed. She is determined to “show him.” We go back to the apartment that I and a few other guys shared. We do it like weasels. I document it all with a Polaroid camera (never showing my own face). I did everything that I had ever even read about to that woman, and she was eager for more.
She was a little chubby, but not overly so, blonde and cute in that chubby southern girl way, and insatiable. Having been with someone pure for some months, then endured a months-long dry spell, I had more than enough pent-up energy to wear her out. I take her back to her hotel just before dawn then head back to the ship. Vengeance, they say, is a dish best served cold, and I was more than happy to let things cool off while I hatched my plans.
Aboard my ship, the electricians used to show the ship’s movie every night, at least they did until we got a closed circuit site television system aboard the ship, and then they operated that system. I was an electrician. Oh, joy! Said system included video cameras and editing equipment. I took all of the polaroids of hillbilly’s woman and made them into a slide show, complete with captions, made several duplicate tapes on VHS, and at random intervals, late at night, I would put the tape on for anyone that happened to be awake and watching television.
I would interrupt whatever anyone was watching and let the tape run for only a couple of minutes, then take it out and hide it. It was an instant hit.
The polaroids of his woman eventually made random appearances on various bulletin boards around the ship. The tape’s existence was eventually revealed to hillbilly kid, and then to the ship’s command structure and after a brief search, found and destroyed (I assume… it was confiscated for sure.
I don’t doubt that some of the senior members of the crew sat around and watched it and had a good laugh). But like I said, I had made duplicates of it, and after interludes of several months, it would re-appear. Hillbilly would get absolutely livid each time it showed up again.
I never did confront him… it wouldn’t have been worth it. He never did confront me either; I was twice his size and I’m sure he was terrified of me.
I don’t know what happened between Hillbilly and his lady. I did eventually talk to my old girl and asked her why she went ahead and went behind my back with him but wouldn’t do what she did with him, with me (her loving and devoted man of several months). Her answer is one of many things that has convinced me that all women are insane and pretty much baffles me to this day: because she didn’t want me to think she was sleazy.”
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