Pixabay
There are so many varying degrees of revenge. From the downright cold and calculated to the silly petty variety, and everywhere in between. Either way, there is no shortage of clever retribution that seems to tickle our justice bone or at the very least, satisfy an urge that many of us won’t fill, but will surely fantasize about! The following stories are the perfect blend of conniving, vindictive revenge but done in a way that isn’t totally detrimental. It’s a nod to what revenge should be and how it should unfold without harm. Yup, these straddle that sweet spot of hilarity and that-guy-totally-got-what-was-comin’-for-him payback.
Here’s a high five for the girl who put on a show after her boyfriend’s mom called her fat. Here’s a “cheers” to the park attendant who made sure a lady didn’t go on an aggressive ride because of her supposed “heart condition.” And can I get a heck yeah to the two coworkers who counted mountains of pennies to prove a point? Read on for some scrumptious revenge, guaranteed to cheer you up!
39. Leave One Server To Serve While You’re On Your Phone? Ring, Ring
Pixabay
“So yesterday was my birthday, and I wanted to go out to eat with my daughter.
Our first choice of restaurant was closed on Mondays, no big deal we’ll go down the street and just have dinner at the local pizza place. Once inside we were seated by the hostess and given menus and water. I’m looking around the restaurant and it’s fairly busy with just one server running around. No help at all from the hostess once she puts someone at a table, as a matter of fact she goes and sits down at a table herself and starts playing on her phone and talking with her friends.
Now up until 2 years ago I had been a server for almost 15 years, so I know how to observe what is happening in a restaurant. I stopped my (the only) waitress and asked her if she ever got help and she said no, that girl never helped out. So my petty revenge on behalf of the server was to call the restaurant every time that hostess sat down and pulled out her phone. I’d wait for her to get up, walk across the floor and pick up before I hung up.
After a few times she was getting visibly upset and I could see her talking about it with her friends. I told my server before we left and she loved it. Thanked me profusely and even got me extra dessert to go.
My issue was with her sitting down in the middle of a semi-full restaurant and playing on her phone. I fully realize she may not be expected to run food or anything. However, I know the management and know for a fact that she should have been helping more.” Source
38. A 20-Year Revenge In The Making That Landed Perfectly
Pixabay
“This story begins about 20 years ago.
I was 7 years old and my sister was 12. I was the youngest, she was the middle and my brother was 17. We had a pretty typical older sister-younger brother relationship. I would annoy her, she would make fun of me. It was pretty standard. One day, after annoying her by trying to play with her and her friend, she told me “If you look up the word ‘moron’ in the dictionary, you’ll see your picture there.” Being 7 years old, I run upstairs, grab the dictionary off the shelf, bring it downstairs and my mother and I flip to the M section.
We get to ‘moron’ and sure as sh*t, there’s my school photo, scotch-taped into the dictionary. I cried my eyes out. When did she put my picture in there? How long was she sitting on that? I have to admit it was a pretty good burn. Now this story would come up throughout the years. My mom would tell it to her friends, or to aunts and uncles at family parties. It would get casually mentioned and laughed off between my immediate family and I.
It was a pretty funny, albeit mean, thing to do to a seven-year-old.
Fast forward to last night; the perfect storm. My sister, my brother, and myself are now married adults with full-time jobs. We were at my parent’s house last night to celebrate my brother’s birthday, spouses included. Everyone is having a great time, laughing and telling jokes. After dinner, we’re all sitting around telling stories of us kids growing up, when lo and behold, the “moron dictionary” story comes up.
Now I call this night the perfect storm because my father had a few drinks in him and at the mention of the story, runs upstairs, grabs the dictionary, and brings it down to the dining room. Everyone wants to see if my school photo is still taped into the dictionary. My sister flips to ‘moron’ and the photo is gone. There is some tape remnants leftover, but the photo is gone. Bummer. As she goes to close the dictionary, I say, “You should look up the word ‘b*tch’.” She flips to ‘b*tch’ and there in all its glory is a picture of my sister, that I had taped into the dictionary about 7 years ago! The entire table erupts in laughter.
I had gotten my revenge 20 years later. It was one of the most glorious nights of my life.” Source
37. You Don’t Want To Talk To Me? Well, I Don’t Want To Talk To You
Pixabay
“While on vacation (camping) with my family a discussion about when stalls run out of toilet paper occurred.
So my dad tells this story, where he was in a public restroom and went to take a sh*t and noticed the first stall had no toilet paper.
So he did his business in the second one. While washing his hands a guy comes in and heads to a stall.
My dad says, “That stalls out of–”
And the guy cuts him off and says, “I DONT TALK TO MEN IN THE RESTROOM.”
So… my dad takes his sweet time washing his hands, making sure to get the underside of his nails and the meat and back of his thumb, did you know that that’s the place most people don’t wash thoroughly enough? Until he hears a very sheepish, “Can you pass over some toilet paper?”
MY dad says, “I DONT TALK TO MEN IN THE RESTROOM” and stomps his feet and slams the door on his way out.” Source
36. You Can’t Scam A Scammer
Pixabay
“When I worked at Walmart, I went from cart pusher->cashier->electronics->security.
Sometimes after I switched to security, when electronics was really swamped, I’d help out for a few minutes. One day, the phone was ringing and I was walking by and randomly answered it.
Sir Scamalot: “Hello, sir, this is Steam Support services with Valve.”
Instantly, of course, I know this is a scam. I adore Valve and played so many of their games too. I can’t believe my luck! Of all the calls to answer! Surprisingly he didn’t have some weird accent.
Me: “Oh, uh… what can I do for you?”
Sir Scamalot: “We’ve had reports that game keys shipped to your location may have an error that prevents it from authenticating, specifically the game Counter-Strike. We need to validate your game keys to see if you’re affected.” [I forget which CS was on sale then, this was 2008].
Me: “Oh, what do I do?” As if I didn’t know.
Sir Scamalot: “Well I just need you to open any copies of the game you have and read me the CD key on the instruction manual so I can verify them with our validation software.” [or on the jewel case, I don’t remember that either]
Me: “Sure thing, can I put you on hold for a minute while I get those?”
Sir Scamalot: [obviously happy] “Sure!”
So I put Sir Scamalot on hold while I called all the other area stores electronics department and warned them about the scammer and confirmed nobody had taken a call like this earlier.
About 15 minutes later, I get back to Scamalot.
Me: “Thanks for holding, but I can’t find any CD keys. I looked all through the book and the packages.”
Sir Scamalot: [annoyed] “Well sir, just open any copy of Counter-Strike and on the-”
Me: “Oh, COUNTER STRIKE! I thought you said Counting Strikes, that bowling game, ok, hold on!”
Everyone in the department is listening and we all laugh. 10 minutes later, I’m back on the line.
Me: “Ok, I got what you’re looking for! What do you need?”
Now I make him walk me through how to open the box, including interrogating him for 5 minutes about how to do it without breaking the seal, then pretend I can’t find the book, etc etc.
Finally, I’m ready to read the code!
First, I read him the UPC. This upsets him. Then I read him a part number from something. Now he’s livid. Finally, I ask if he means the code on the book that says “game key” and has like groups of four digits with dashes (like he’s said probably 50 times already) and he gets excited again.
Oh, ok heres the game key…
Me: “Ok F… like frank. U… like uncle. C… like cat.”
Sir Scamalot: “Sir, I don’t think thats right, normally a code would-”
Me: “No, its.
F, U, C, then K like kite. Next four is Y like yesterday. O like owl-”
And he swore at me and hung up.” SourceSource
35. I Made A Scene When My Boyfriend’s Mom Called Me Fat
Pixabay
“Just for some context, I am 5’9. I weighed maybe 140lbs at the time which is well within normal limits. My body was “average” not fat. It would be a stretch to even call me chubby, tbh. My boyfriend at the time was 5’11 and a bit on the thin side.
My boyfriend (let’s call him Tom) and I were in our early 20s. I think I was 21 and he was 22 at the time. His mother (TM) was visiting him from out of town. He called me to ask if I’d like to have lunch with him and his mother. I told him that I’d love to meet her but I was at a shopping center (think of a strip mall) and I had already paid for parking so I didn’t want to leave until I finished my shopping.
I don’t remember what my shopping was, perhaps a specific item at a specific store for a birthday present, but I do remember I could only get it at a store in that location and parking was $20. It’s important to understand there is a drivable paved city road that circles the center of the shopping station with several exits leading to the parking garage. Cars can sort of “window shop” the establishment and then the road ends with a traffic light to help merge back onto city traveling roads.
So, anyway, Tom said he understood and he’d swing by to pick me up and then he’d drop me back after lunch.
Another important note is that, for whatever reason, the back door behind the passenger’s seat in Tom’s car at the time wouldn’t open. I had an ongoing “shotgun” war with friends when he would drive because the losers would have to climb in through the window.
Tom pulls up to the station, I wave and climb into his car.
This isn’t an embellishment, to the best of my memory, this is how the conversation went.
Me: (stepping in and sliding into the seat behind his mother) “probably wishing you had stacked your purchases behind the passenger seat, huh babe?”
Boyfriend: (laughing) “I’m sorry sweetie. Mom, this is my girlfriend OP’s name”
Me: “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs so & so, you’ll have to forgive my less-than-graceful entrance. This door doesn’t open so we have to use the window when Tom isn’t expecting guests and has the other back seat otherwise occupied.”
TM: (to Tom) “You didn’t tell me she was fatter than you.”
Tom: (unappreciative voice) “Mother!”
Me: (looking at Tom with wide eyes) “I don’t think ‘fat’ is a fair adjective.
I’m not as thin as Tom, no, but I’m certainly not fat.”
TM: (turns in her seat, makes a dramatic show of casting her gaze over my body) “I think my adjective is perfectly adequate.”
I was more than a little shocked but I’ve never been someone to stay in an unsociable or hostile environment simply because it’s expected of me. Luckily, the traffic light that allows vehicles to exit had just turned red. Even MORE, fortunately, there was a long line of moviegoers waiting on the same side of the car as myself and TM.
Me: (to Tom) “Well this was lovely but I’m out.”
Tom: (looking embarrassed but understanding) “I’ll call you later babe.”
Me: (to TM) “Enjoy your salad, Mrs so & so.”
I roll down the window and start to climb out and I. Just. Can’t. Help. Myself. I lay my belly across and start flailing my arms, waving frantically to the moviegoers.
Me: “Help!!! Omg, help!!! I’m so fat I got stuck climbing out of this car window!”
It’s obvious I’m not stuck but a few guys in line are chuckling.
Me: “Please! Does anyone have any butter? We may need to grease my sides so all my flubber can slip out. I neeeeeeeed butter and a plunger.”
One of the guys in the movie line asks, “What’s the plunger for?”
Me: “So you can stick it to my fat face and help pull me from this clown car!”
Tom is laughing and watching the spectacle, and TM is sitting with her arms crossed and her face is fire-engine red.
Unfortunately, the light turned green so I easily and swiftly slid the rest of myself out of the car and waved goodbye, smiling like an idiot.” itsJussaMe
34. Barge Into My Room At The Wrong Moment? Prepare To Get Your Head Slammed
PIxabay
“My crazy entitled aunt had an annoying habit (one of her many annoying habits) to just storm in when I was changing my clothes. The door would be closed and if it wasn’t locked she would just let herself in.
My protests that I may be in a state of undress fell on deaf ears. As did any insistence that she knocks before the entrance, like a civilized human being.
The following incidents happened when I was either 18 or 19. Aunt and her husband were over for a visit. I was in my room, changing my clothes. My bedroom door had a small defect, it wouldn’t lock properly. So anytime it was closed, my dad, stepmom, and stepbrother would either knock or ask if they could come in.
Not entitled aunt, of course. She considered herself above such frivolous courtesies. She could come into rooms as and where she saw fit and mere mortals would just have to live with it. Unfortunately for her, this mere mortal had had enough of her privacy being invaded.
My top was off, when I heard the door begin to creak open, I yelled “I’M CHANGING. WAIT OUTSIDE!” As expected, my aunt didn’t listen and was about to stick her head in when I swiftly reached the door, pulled it back a little, and slammed it hard into my aunt’s thick skull.
Not enough to crack her skull but enough to hurt.
Aunt let out a howl that instantly brought a smile to my face. She went downstairs whining. I followed. She yelled at my dad about what I had done. My dad and uncle (aunt’s husband) were drinking at the time and were uncharacteristically chilled. Dad just looked at her, then looked at me and said something like, “yeah…..don’t do that.” My uncle just burst out laughing, as if his wife getting her head banged was the funniest thing he had ever heard.
Such dismissal of her grievances was too much to bear for my aunt. She demanded that they leave immediately. Uncle told her he was in no condition to drive. Besides, he and my dad were going to watch a cricket match so leaving was out of the question.
Aunt dialed my cousin’s number, believing wholeheartedly that her son would come to her aid. But judging from her end of the conversation, my cousin was out with his friends and wasn’t going to drive all the way over to deal with her stupid a** and why couldn’t she just stop getting into unnecessary squabbles.
Aunt had no options left. She just sat down on the couch while holding against her head the ice pack my stepmom had brought for her. Her anger was boiling over but was completely ignored by my “happy” dad and uncle.
It was a lovely evening.” shygirlturnedsassy
33. They Overflowed The Recycling Bin, Now They Have 3 Weeks Of Backed Up Recycling
Pixabay
“So for context, where I live the local waste management has recently changed their pickup schedules. We used to get our recycling and our waste collected once a week, but they’ve recently changed it to alternating 2 weeks.
One week recycling, next week general waste. Annoying, but not unmanageable, or at least that’s what my husband and I initially thought.
You see, we live in a house split into 2 apartments. We have the bottom floor, and the top floor has at least one family, and two young men living there, if not more. We have our own separate waste bins, but the recycling bin is shared for both households.
Unfortunately, the people upstairs come from a place where it’s normal to buy massive amounts of bottled water to drink rather than tap water, which isn’t really a thing here.
I understand it’s a normal thing where they’re from, but tap water here is drinkable, so it is unnecessary.
Every week the recycling bin is filled to bursting with these giant empty plastic bottles, and even though my husband and I rarely have huge amounts of recycling, there is often no room for our share in the bin. And then when we both come home from work that evening, they’ve already nearly filled up the recycling again! We can’t win!
This was only mildly frustrating when it was a weekly pickup, but since they changed it last month, it’s downright infuriating.
We are expecting a baby so we’ve received lots of gifts in cardboard boxes and bags from family and friends, which is an unusually large amount of recycling for us that, having nowhere to go, has clogged up our house for the past 3 weeks.
We tried to put the cardboard box for our stroller in the recycling 3 weeks ago, but in the night, the people upstairs took it out to fill the bin with their bottles and also, their unwashed meat packets!! We came home from work the next day to find the cardboard still on the side, now soggy from the rain, and all the recycling left there too, because of the unwashed meat packets they’d left on top!
So now we would have to wait another 2 weeks until we could put all our stuff in there, all the while upstairs is gathering 2 week’s worth of sh*t to dump in it next time!
This was the last straw.
We tried looking into purchasing another recycling bin for ourselves, but it costs $100, which we don’t have lying around. Not to mention I have a feeling it would just become upstairs second recycle dump. I realized it was time to get petty.
Today is finally the day the recycling has been taken, and I am now on my maternity leave, so I am home all day.
I got up very early, I waited until the bin men had come, and then immediately took all of our boxes, all our bags, all that 2 extra weeks of recycling we didn’t get to unload and I dumped all of it into the newly empty bin.
And for good measure, I took the soggy cardboard pram box and dumped it back in there too.
Even with all that, the bin still isn’t completely full, but good luck to upstairs trying to stick all their stupid bottles and meat packets piled up for 2 weeks in there.
Now they have to wait another 2 weeks just like we did, that is if I don’t get there first next time too.” Bella_Anima
32. You Want Special Treatment Because Of Your Health Condition? No Problem, Lady
Pixabay
“I worked at a busy Waterpark similar to Six Flags as a lifeguard/attendant.
It was the middle of summer, there were thousands of people in the park, and good ‘camping/setup’ spots were limited by lunchtime.
Situation:
While lifeguarding over a fake beach/wave pool, we were periodically required to tell customers on the dining table that the seating was short term seating only, while they eat their food, etc. Otherwise, people leave there towels and bags over every table and flip out if anyone tries to eat at ‘their table’
Most people are cool and clear out after eating, freeing it up for the next customers.
These tables are constantly packed when it’s busy.
One lady has decided that she’ll pull 2 tables, and 8 chairs together, spread all her stuff around, and start reading a book (with a coffee). This is incredibly rude and p*sses a lot of customers off (rightly so).
So after the waves turn off (20 min on, 10 off) I do the walkthrough with the same spiel “Limited seating, appreciate if you could free up once you’re finished your meals etc, etc” I get to this lady who says:
“I’m drinking a coffee”
“I understand, but you can’t really set up ‘base’ here, we keep the dining tables free for people with food to have somewhere to eat.
There are plenty of spaces here, here n here”
“yeah, thanks…”
Another half-hour goes, I go through the tables again, the same spiel, etc, get to this lady.
“Sorry Ma’am, but I really have to ask you to move on shortly, you’ve taken up 8 seats and 2 tables for the last hour while only occupying one…”
“I’m reading a book! Get your manager if you have a problem, show some initiative! (She actually said that…)”
So call the duty manager over, he has a chat, calms her down, comes back to me and says, “She claims to have a heart problem and can’t walk around much or be in the heat, etc, so just let her be”
Not a problem, I’m not going to harass a lady with a cough heart problem, and the Manager is cool with it so I don’t care.
Revenge:
About 3 hours later I was rotated on one of the more popular group waterslides. The lineup was over an hour.
Low and behold, look who it is! The same lady, with some of her friends.
She gets to the front of the line, attempts to step into the ride:
“Sorry Ma’am, unfortunately, I can’t let you ride this today”
“Why not!??!”
“As it’s a ‘thrill’ ride, people with heart conditions aren’t permitted to ride” (not entirely true, they are just not advised to ride, I wasn’t going to tell her this though)
“I don’t have a heart condition!”
“I’m sorry if I was misinformed, but I’ve been notified that you have a heart condition, and so really wouldn’t feel comfortable putting you in this situation, risking it, etc, your friends are fine to go through!”
They all took off yelling and laughing etc
“This is b.s! I want to speak to your manager!”
“Certainly”
I radioed to the Manager, briefly let him know the situation, and heard the amusem*nt in his voice when he said he’ll be around soon.
She waited another 30 mins standing at the top of this line, only to be greeted by, guess who, the same Manager she claimed she had the heart condition too. While putting on his incredibly sincere and concerned voice, he told her how he couldn’t possibly risk putting her in a situation like this, opening them up for court action, etc. She tried pleading to him that she didn’t really have a heart condition, and how it was something else, etc.” Source
31. Here’s A Bit Of Your Own Rude Medicine
Pixabay
“I was out to a movie with my friends last night.
We come and sit down, and I realize pretty soon that this girl in the row behind us has her feet up on my friend David’s seat. She’s there with one of her friends. So David turns around and he says something like, “uh do you think you could put your feet down?” And I think they say something in response but I didn’t hear it. The feet didn’t go down. A few minutes later David says, “Hey, will you get your feet off my chair? It’s extremely rude.” And they still don’t budge.
So I tell David that he should go find an employee and get them to talk to this girl. He does exactly that, and after a couple of minutes an employee comes and talks to this girl. She is obviously pretty peeved but begrudgingly agrees to put her feet down.
After the employee leaves, she puts her feet right back up.
At this point I’m p*ssed off. Why is it so important to you that you have your feet up on someone’s chair? You’re just being a brat.
So I get out of my seat, walk up two rows, sit down in the seat directly behind this girl, and stick my foot on the back of her chair and push it forward. They both turn around and try to say something to me, but I can’t really hear them since the movie had started by this point, so I just say “just watch the movie.”
I kept my feet up there the entire movie. It felt like I had done walls sits for two hours but I’m glad I did it.” Delisen
30. You Don’t Get Very Far With Road Rage
Pixabay
“This happened a few months ago as I was driving my work van (the biggest Mercedes sprinter you can drive without a commercial license) around Amsterdam delivering groceries.
This story takes place on a single lane road with high curbs on both sides that takes you from one neighborhood to another. The speed limit is 50kph, although it could have been 70 except in some tight corners.
Now I’ve driven here so many times before that I feel comfortable doing 60-ish, just a bit faster than normal without the risk of getting caught speeding in an urban area.
Suddenly I hear a loud beep behind me, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s a BMW! “What a surprise!” I think to myself.
I was quite impressed by my ability to guess the brand of this automobile because everything forward of the rear doors wasn’t visible in my mirrors.
The tailgating and honking continue for a little while until I spot the perfect opportunity to teach this Ikea-pencil equipped douche a lesson: a long straight section in the road. For those of you who haven’t been to the Netherlands before, our government loves two things: taxes and using those taxes to build speedbumps.
As such we have a wide variety of speedbumps and this straight section was equipped with my personal favorite: the bus bypass variant, a trapezoid block just wide enough that a normal car has to pass over it with at least one wheel, but a bus can pass over it unobstructed.
I’ve had plenty of practice with these obstacles and line up for a flawless pass while accelerating to a mindnumbing 70 kmh, the BMW still glued to my rear bumper.
I pass over the obstacle without the slightest inconvenience….. The oblivious BMW driver however hits it in the worst possible way, launching himself into the ceiling of his car and grinding his oil pan as the suspension compresses.
After that he kept a good distance.” Source
29. I First Asked You Politely, Now I Have To Resort To Pooping On Your Parade
Dean Drobot/shutterstock.com
“So I posted on here a little while ago about my roommate using up all my baby wipes and he said to me he would stop.
Well the past 2 days he started doing it again along with using my toothpaste and not even f*cking being kind enough to put the cap back on after using it.
So I confronted him about this AGAIN and he said, “Whatever I don’t give a sh*t, hide it somewhere then.” Nah, nah, I will keep it there, I have an idea.
A couple of days ago he said he has a girl coming over and would like to get some action and leave him alone.
I said OK no worries. So about an hour before she came over I pretended to leave and said I am heading out for the night. 5 minutes later I snuck back in while he was making dinner for both of them.
I got to my room and hid in there knowing that for a fact at some point in the night she would ask to use the bathroom, and I needed to take a sh*t. So 45 minutes go by and she arrived and I am just waiting.
About 2 hours after she gets there I hear him go take a p*ss. AH perfect! he went first!
Now time to take a really big fat and gross poop. I run into the bathroom and crap as quiet as I possibly can. A huge load. And I don’t flush or put the lid down. I go back to my room and wait. I stare at the clock and sit there giggling like Quagmire, exactly 28 minutes go by and whoop.
There she goes, into the bathroom.
She was in there for exactly 6 seconds and came out. 7 minutes later she leaves.
Guess who isn’t getting any sweet lovin’ tonight.”
28. A Table For Four As A Table For One In A Cafeteria? Nope, Nope, Nope
PIxabay
“I was sitting in a food court quietly eating lunch, minding my own business. This food court is in the CBD and filled with nine-to-fivers. It was crowded so strangers would share tables. There was one sole person sitting at a four-seated table next to me.
Every couple of minutes someone would approach that table and ask the table-hog if it was free to sit. He always replied, “Sorry my colleagues will be here soon”. The entire time I was there, no colleagues came and sat with him nor did it appear that he was looking around for them (as most people waiting for others to join will look around and wave them over). He quietly finished up his lunch and left.
Seems he just lied to have a four-seater table all to himself when even people on two-seater table were sharing with strangers. Well, that’s not right!
A couple of days later I saw him in the food court again. I was in a bit of a mood so I bought my lunch and pulled out the chair to sit at his table. As I was sitting down he told me he is waiting for his colleagues. I replied “That’s okay, I’ll move when they arrive.
I won’t be long.” He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as I quietly ate my lunch. I felt very uncomfortable and my heart was racing but I was p*ssed off at that table hog that I had to do something. If you choose to have your lunch in a busy food court, you don’t get to live in your own little bubble.
Edit: I just want to clarify a few things – the strangers sharing tables DO NOT speak to each other beyond “May I sit here?” There is no awkward small talk.
Everybody eats their own lunch quietly while looking at their phone and make no eye contact.
Also – strangers sharing tables is the custom for this particular food court. I’m sure it would be strange and weird to sit down at a table with a stranger at the food court in your area, however, this story wasn’t located in the food court at your area. I doubt I would ever find myself in your part of the world and if I did, I would observe the local custom and certainly not sit down at a table with a stranger.
I neither know nor care if he had social anxiety. By the confident manner in which he denied table access to those several people that he spoke to, I doubt he did. And if he did, he made things worse for himself.” Source
27. Don’t Want To Be Quiet In The Quiet Zone? This Will Teach You
Pixabay
“I take the train to work each morning and then again to get home. I like to sit in the quiet car because it allows me to think and do a little extra work each day.
On the train ride home today a woman in front of me kept talking on the phone even after people nicely asked her to be quiet. The conductor also came through and informed her she was in a quiet car.
The seats we are in have very little support so someone behind you could push your seat and you’d feel it. Several riders decided it wasn’t worth it and switched cars. I decided I had enough and slouched far enough so both of my knees were firmly in the back of her seat pushing fairly hard.
She co*cked her head around and told me to put my knees down. I closed my eyes and fake slept.
She got up and moved to a different seat. There was a person behind her and guess what he did? Knees to the back of the chair. People started catching on and she chose a seat with no one behind her. Another rider changed seats behind her and she got some more knees.
The conductor came through again and was unaware of our little revenge.
She got up and told him that people were putting knees into her back and stalking her to each spot. The conductor put his index finger to his lips and said “Shhhh, this is a quiet car.”
She moved to a new train car.” Source
26. Take That Attitude With Me And I’ll Get Back At Ya Nice And Even
Pixabay
“I work on a college campus. It’s the season for orientation and parents are herding their kids around checking out the school.
I misread my schedule (arrived at 14:00 instead of 4:00 pm) and had a few hours to kill. I decided to take a walk around campus to look at the changing trees. I soon came upon a family that was clearly lost. two parents and a kid. The dad’s got the map out (upside down) and the mom is asking anyone who will listen for directions. I decided to help.
I stroll up and ask where they’re headed and am told they’re looking for one of the libraries.
It wouldn’t be too far out of my way so I decided to take them there. As we’re walking I make small talk asking what the kid plans to study and whatever. To be helpful, I started pointing things out on the way. This was my fatal error.
As we’re walking someone interrupts and says “are you headed to the library?” I confirmed that we were and allowed them to tag along. I didn’t go full tour guide and turn around, so as I’m walking I remain facing forward.
I didn’t notice that a few other families started following behind me. We get to the library and the first family is happy. I turn to leave and someone says “how about the political science department?” I check my clock and think “what the hell, these people are nice” and off we went. At this point I have about five families with me. People are asking questions and laughing at my jokes and having a good time.
We get to the next building and it’s time for me to leave for work. I motion to disband my little entourage and am met with opposition.”Take us to the English department.” Some guy says. I was like, “No can do, chief. I gotta go to work” and it clearly didn’t register. I tried to tell him that this was an informal tour and I’m not affiliated with the orientation and he didn’t understand. “What the hell kind of tour is this? We paid good money for this orientation.
You’re going to take us to the English department!” Imagine Mark Derwin’s character from Accepted. The English department was actually pretty far away so I wouldn’t be able to get him there without being late to work. He was pretty disrespectful so I decided to dump him instead.
“To get there it’s easiest to take a campus shuttle,” I said, “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.” He was satisfied with that so off we went. We get to the bus stop and I tell him that I won’t be riding with him because I’m only a tour guide for this particular area.
Once he gets on the bus he should wait for three stops, then get off and meet a new tour guide that will be there waiting. Instead of saying thanks he grumbles out a “was that so hard?” and climbs aboard.
Here’s the kicker. Our campus doesn’t have its own bus system. I put him on a city bus. Three stops would take him to a grocery store a mile or two off-campus. There definitely wasn’t anyone waiting for him there.
I like to think he got what he deserved for being disrespectful.” Source
25. Want To Act That Way? I’ll Leave You A Little Present
Pixabay
“I like to end my relationships amicably. I am friends with a few of my exes. This one, however, has been a weapons-grade jerkface to me for a couple of years and then threw me and my children out suddenly with nothing but the clothes on my our backs and made a few choice death threats to me.
Don’t worry, the police are involved. Well, a few hours earlier I went with a police escort to gather the rest of mine and my children’s belongings. He was sitting on the couch with his new gf, both drunk af. The officer stayed with them. I went to what used to be our bedroom, packed my belongings quickly, packed my children’s things, then released 100 crickets under his bed, in his closet, in his dressers, and in what used to be the children’s’ bedroom.
I made sure there were more male crickets than female, so they’ll be noisy as all heck while attempting to find a mate, and these little buggers will eat anything, wood, clothing, and they’re very good at hiding during the day.” Source
24. Try To Pull That Age Old Dining Out Scam With Me Around? I’ll Just Cut You Off
Pixabay
“You know the scam. Whine about perfectly good food to get some sort of comp.
In their old age, my parents befriended another older couple who would pull this stunt everywhere they went.
After my mother told me a few stories about how their new friends had shown them how to get discounted or free meals, I felt like I was suddenly the responsible adult, concerned about the bad influence these people were on my parents.
While visiting my parents with my girlfriend, this other couple attended dinner with us. As I expected, the food was brought to the table and they immediately began dramatically complaining to one another about the quality/taste/temperature/etc.
They were making a scene in order to attract the attention of the waitress. When our waitress returned to ask how we were doing, the miserable old bastard who played the lead role in their act took a deep breath, struck a dramatic pose (with his hand raised to begin gesticulating for emphasis) and bega–I leaned forward and cut him off before he could finish the first word: “Everything is absolutely fantastic. It’s all great! Thank you very much!” She smiled, and began her obligatory “Great, well if you need any–” when he made a second attempt.
“We come here all the time an–”. I didn’t acknowledge that he was speaking at all, repeated that all was just as we ordered, and thank her again.
He was stunned and thrown off from his routine by my interruption. During this pause the waitress walked away (It seemed clear that she knew what they were trying to accomplish). He turned bright red. I turned to my girlfriend and, smiling and without lowering my voice, stated how pitiful it is that some people could be dishonest, deceitful, and put at risk the livelihood of a cook, server, or hostess for a pathetic discount or a free early-bird special.
My passive-aggressive reverse-parenting broke my parents of the habit in a short time.” Source
23. Won’t Take Me Off Your Mailing List? I’ll Take Myself Off
Pixabay
“A while ago my email address was added to a mailing list for a church group located in the southern USA. It was a Gmail address and I naturally assume it was added in error.
I deleted the first few messages as there were not many. After a week or so the volume of email started to increase a lot as their events being organized and everyone was responding with reply all.
First off I sent an email to the address that seemed to belong to the organizer, the one who was initiating the email chains.
“Hi, I am not part of your group. Please remove me from this email distribution list.”
No response.
Over the next couple of days, as each new message arrives, I send another one.
No response.
So far I have only been sending to the leader.
Next day I send a reply all. They are not sending the messages BCC, so I can see all the addresses.
Again, I am ignored. I try again, no response.
I am now receiving 10-20 of this crap a day. So I take the nuclear option.
As each message arrives, I reply all with x-rated adult images.
“Since you won’t remove me from the list here is my input.”
I start mild and crank it up. Like really crank it up.
I received outraged replies about this being a Christian Church group, I reply with something worse.
“I asked nicely for weeks to be removed and was ignored.
So here is another fine picture for you. ”
The email list disappeared from my inbox within 24 hours.” Source
22. Pay In Pennies? K, Well I Better Count Them Perfectly
Pixabay
“Years ago, I’m cashiering at a whacky mart on a register that holds all the smokes and alcohol. It’s 10pm and these two young men (early 20s) come up to the counter. They have three random novelty items (I don’t remember they were), but it was strange and unusual to get odd items this late at night.
Maybe it was for some fraternity, I don’t know. It’s a college town so I get weird stuff from frats a lot. I scan the items and tell them their total is $22.xx.
Grinning at each other, they reach into their jackets and slam down two-gallon zip-lock bags, full of only pennies. I stare them in the eye, but they didn’t even look back at me. Everyone else in line groan and went to other registers. These two kids knew what they were doing, but they didn’t know what they were in for because I prepared for this; I knew this was going to inevitably happen.
I grinned with them because I was gonna get paid during this. These pranksters are here for recreation. This convo occurs between Me, Ringleader (the other guy was silent and awkward), and a friendly coworker of mine.
Me: Is this $22.xx?
Ringleader: …
Me: Did you count it?
Ringleader: Nope.
Me: Are you going to?
Ringleader: Nope.
Me: Is it at least $22.xx?
Ringleader: Don’t know.
Me: Nice.
Coworker: Hey! You guys can use the self-checkout. It can take all of your coins at once.
Me: Oh, don’t worry about it Cowor–
Ringleader: Nope, don’t trust them lady.
(Partner laughs)
Coworker: What? Why!?
Ringleader: Doesn’t count all your change right.
Coworker: I’ve used them before. It really works!
Me: (to Coworker) I got this.
I unpacked the zip locks and threw all the pennies on the counter. It was a beautiful, massive sh*tstorm of a mess. And I dug in it. I was Frank in a dumpster in ‘It’s Always Sunny’. The two, still averting my gaze, start chuckling as if they were taking away my dignity. They whisper to each other “Dude oh my God,” “Dude yeah,” “Dude, hilarious.” I counted each penny, one by one.
My coworker comes up to me.
Coworker: Guess I’ll help you count this.
Me: Don’t worry about it.
(She looks at me confused. Then she puts on her ‘get down to busy’ look.)
Coworker: I got your back.
Me: *Oh…*ok.
We worked up a system where we counted ten, put them in a pile, then with ten stacks of ten pennies we separated them, making $1 piles. We made progress slowly but surely. Some customers came to the line, but we advised them to get to another line.
Some of them looked at us confused, but when they saw the counter full of pennies they understood. Some decided to wait, but when they realized it wasn’t going to take just a few minutes they took their leave. Another register in the liquor department opened so it wasn’t too bad for other customers. We get to about $12 (about 10min in) until I “knocked” over the piles.
Coworker: Neontonsil!
Me: Oops. Sorry.
(Coworker looks at my grin. I give her a wink and tilt my head, motioning her to leave)
Coworker: You know what, I think I better let you do this.
Me: Ha, alright.
(Coworker leaves. I look at the two guys. They are absolutely stunned at the fallen piles of pennies.)
Me: (To Ringleader) Yeah, I’m going to have to count all of this again.
Ringleader: ….Ok.
I started from zero. I count slower than ever and made my way back up. The duo is entirely silent. I get to about $7, when suddenly I say:
Me: Drats. I lost count. I better start all over again.
Ringleader: Really?
Me: Oh yeah man.
Ringleader: Why!?
Me: I lost count, sir. I could be in trouble if my register doesn’t have the right amount of cash, and I don’t want to rip you off.
Ringleader: …
It’s about an hour later. My manager walks past, looks at me. I smile at him, and he looks at the counter. He walks away without a word. I eventually count all the change and surprisingly they had only $18!
Me: Hmm, I think that this is $18.
(The duo has been dead silent. They look done for the night.)
Me: I’ll recount it.
I f*cking recounted it.
Me: I think this is actually $19.xx.
(Without a word, the Ringleader whips out a $5)
Me: Seriously? You had cash?
Ringleader: Needed to get rid of my change.
Me. No problem. I’ll just recount this again. I want to make perfectly sure that this is $19, since I counted $18 the first time.
Ringleader: Are you kidding me?
(I shake my head no, completely serious.)
He takes out a $20 bill straight out of his pocket and throws it at me.
My coworker gives the biggest WHAT THE F*CK face. Internally, I die as well, because they were smart enough to have a backup plan. And the fact that he was touching his cash in his pocket the entire time kinda messed with me. I take the cash, do the transaction, give him his change, thanked him, and wished him a good night. The two start to put their pennies back in the ziplock bags and I didn’t help them at all.
I watched them just as how they watched me. Lots of pennies dropped to the floor, but they didn’t care to pick them up. It looked like their souls were sucked out of them. It was past midnight and I clocked out way past when I was supposed to. A lot of my coworkers gave me a thumbs up or told me good night. Even my manager told me ‘good job,’ the only two words he ever said to me.
I went to bed at the dorms after such a great petty penny night and crashed. Strange to say, but I’d love to count pennies again.” Source
21. Take Parking Spots That Aren’t Yours? Get Ready To Suffer The Snowy Consequences
Pixabay
“Growing up my parents lived in a townhouse. We lived at the end of a set of 5. The middle house was a good friend who also happened to be a cop.
The house next to us was a renter, normally the renters were college kids, not too noisy or rude, just did their thing so it wasn’t a bad deal.
Well one year we get these 4-5 kids staying in a 2 bedroom house, and all of them had a car.
So whenever we got snow, my dad and I would go out and shovel out 2 spots for our family’s cars, and 1 spot for the cop neighbor for his police cruiser as he worked nights and didn’t want him to have to shovel when he got back home at ~5 in the morning. So we finished shoveling and not 10 minutes later, all 3 spots we shoveled are parked in by College Neighbors.
My dad and I, rightfully p*ssed off, go knock on the door to tell them to move and of course they don’t answer. So of course we spent the next 3 hours shoveling every bit of snow from the yard, the road, the driveways, every flake we could find, right onto their cars. The only thing you could see at the end was mounds of snow. No evidence of a car whatsoever. The next morning when I woke up I peeked outside to find all 4 college neighbors trying to dig out their buried cars with just their hands, as they were trying to leave for class.
After that they bought shovels and didn’t take a spot they didn’t shovel.” Source
20. Steal My Parking Spot? Let’s Have A Tailgate Party
PIxabay
“Best Buy at a big mall. Circling the parking lot for literally a half-hour looking for a spot since my roommate insisted she couldn’t go shopping alone. Finally found a spot in the way back of the parking lot. Doesn’t matter.
I wait for the car leaving the spot to exit, turn signal on. He leaves and as I begin to pull in, someone whips out from behind me and makes it into the spot before I can, almost hitting my car in the process and scaring the sh*t out of me.
But he moved so quickly to get my spot that he ended up parking crookedly and couldn’t exit his car.
So I just pulled up behind him. Now he couldn’t adjust. And he was too heavy to climb across to the passenger door, though he did attempt it.
He was giving me the middle finger and shouting at me to move so he could readjust. I literally stayed there for 15 minutes (to my roommate’s annoyance) until he called security who asked me to move.
When I told security what had happened,he made the guy leave the parking space or be ticketed.
Fantastic. Got my spot.” Source
19. If You Want To Start Something, You Better Not Put It Up On Instagram
“Tenants on the trashy side had been living at parents’ property for a while. After a cash windfall they decided it was time to move out. Fine. Whatever.
They start complaining and being late on rent. Mold, etc….and takes us to court. They Never show up to court.
This elongates the process so they end up basically living for free in our house while taking us to court for poor living conditions (i know right). A few months go by until they HAVE to go to court. One of them shows up crying that their baby is dying Bc of the mold blah blah. The judge goes in on her saying you’ve been living there rent-free for over six months if ur baby is sick, why don’t u leave, and we also had a mold guy come in and inspect the house and he basically said it’s not the mold that’s giving ur kid breathing problems it’s your cigarette smoke.
The case gets thrown out, they gotta pay back rent. Literally that night they get a U-haul and leave town. I followed their every move on Instagram knowing they were eventually gonna slip up. A few weeks go by and they start posting pics of their house and such. Eventually they put a location on one of their pics. Bad move, honey. Bless your heart. Got on google earth, found the street, found the actual house by matching the red door to one of their pics.
Sent it to the lawyer. Motherf*ckers got served and the guy had to sell his vintage car to pay us back.” Source
18. Nobody Likes To Rip Up Concrete And Pour It In Twice
Pixabay
“Not about me, but about a guy I used to work with. He was a mountain of a guy, a huge dude, but the kindest guy I ever met. He’d do anything for people he liked. Nobody ever saw anybody get on this bad side until that fateful day.
As it happens, he was also our delivery driver, and he spent most days on the road in his semi, leaving before dawn and returning quite late, if at all that day. Our warehouse had a driveway large enough for him to pull the semi into, and load/unload.
The supermarket next door decided to do some renovations, and expand. When they started construction, they started tearing out their brick parking lot and getting close to tearing out our driveway.
Boss runs out, tells them where our property line is and is assured they won’t cross onto our property. Everybody goes back inside, nobody worries, until there’s suddenly a raging bear standing in the break room, shouting about how the driveway has been torn up and he can’t get his truck in. We go out, and indeed, the driveway is half missing, and there’s a concrete building foundation poured in. Construction workers are nowhere in sight, the boss sends the supermarket manager an e-mail message, and everybody goes home.
The next day we arrive to the sight of very angry construction workers. Apparently, the delivery driver went back in the middle of the night with some bolt-cutters, ‘liberated’ about 30 of their shopping carts, and stuck them into the drying concrete in various comical positions. Overnight, the concrete hardened, and the carts became quite difficult to remove. Construction crew brings in the jackhammers, and four days later, most of the concrete is gone, and they start preparing for another pour, this time leaving our driveway intact.
Foundation comes out fine, everything is looking good. At that time, my boss shows up with the announcement that he had a survey done, and while they didn’t tear open our driveway the second time, they were still closer to our property line than allowed, and he’d already filed a complaint to get the concrete removed. Took them another week of jack-hammering to get it out.” Source
17. Want To Make A Mess? Well, You Gotta Wait For Me To Clean It Up
Pixabay
“I work a crappy retail job, and we just started putting out our Christmas stock (It kills me to say that when it isn’t even Halloween yet).
I was working the register while my coworker was in the back room handling a delivery. It was a quiet night, no customers for about half an hour, and in walks a woman with her three-year-old daughter.
They start looking in the Christmas aisle. I happen to walk by it about ten minutes later, and the aisle is completely trashed. I watch as her daughter pulls three pegs worth of garland off the wall, then as her mother picks out the color she wants and leaves the rest on the floor.
This woman had allowed her daughter to do this for nearly everything in the aisle. She saw me, took her daughter’s hand, and said “Come on honey, let’s go check out while this nice lady cleans up.” And she leads her kid toward the checkout.
Well, jokes on you, lady. I’m the only one working them tonight! I start cleaning the aisle (very slowly) while she waits at the register. After a few minutes, the lady looks at me and clears her throat.
I look up, smile, and say, “I’m sorry, but company policy states that I can’t leave any obstruction in an aisle unattended. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” And I go back to cleaning. Made her wait for a good twenty minutes trying to entertain a bored, increasingly whiny toddler before I came up and wrang her stuff up. I made sure to give her my biggest smile as I handed her her change and said, “Have a nice night!” SourceSource
16. Use My Razors? YOu Should Know My Medical History
“Back in college I lived in a six-man apartment-style dorm that had shared living spaces and three bathrooms.
Some of my roomies had guests over one weekend when I was out of town and when I got back on Sunday night, I noticed that my razor had hair stubble in it. I didn’t think much about it, but it was one of those expensive refill razors, and later on one of the guests “asked” me if it was okay if they had used my razor. I was kinda miffed about what this lazy asshole had done, so I told him I was okay with it, but that he should probably get checked for Hepatitis B since I was infected since age twelve (I wasn’t) when I had a bad blood transfusion in Vietnam when my family was on vacation.
The entire group hearing this dropped silent and the offending asshole turned white. I told him “sorry man, I didn’t expect you to use my razor, otherwise, I would have given you a new blade or disinfected it for you. You better get a blood test.” The guy asked me if I was serious, and I said: “as serious as a heart attack and two kidney failures”. A few hours later, my roomie asked if it was true and I said “yes.” I am guessing his friend must have sh*t his pants.
I let the lie go for about a week and then I fessed up, evil jerk that I am.” Source
15. Raisins Sure Do Look Like…
Pixabay
“So this happened when I was about 6 years old.
My mum would sometime put a small box of raisins in with my lunch. We weren’t that well off and a little box of raisins was a treat to me.
Well they kept disappearing and I knew they had been there and I would be looking forward to eating them at recess.
I informed the teacher and found out that a lot of lunch food was going missing.
Next assembly the principal said that whoever was stealing the food had better stop as it was a serious offense, but that if anyone was truly hungry to go see her and she would not punish them for the previous thefts and that she would get them something to eat. She really meant it as well.
So it continues and it was always the best stuff in the lunchboxes that went missing.
My mum had had enough of this by now and decided to punish the culprit herself.
The next day she says don’t eat your raisins if they don’t go missing and she substituted the raisins with our pet rabbits poo.
Well they go missing and the teacher found a pile of vomited rabbit poo in the cloakroom.
I never found out who was stealing my raisins but it never happened again.” Source
14. Don’t Outsmart A Realtor Unless You Know What You’re Doing
PIxabay
“A couple of years back, I moved into this really exclusive apartment building in the Miami Beach area.
I had no clue at the time my landlord was a fascist dictator. After she took my deposit and we moved in the problems started. She had all sorts of crazy rules like shirts on for men at the pool, no talking on cell phones in the hallway, no overnight visitors, and a whole list of sh*t she literally made up and applied whenever she wanted.
I knew she was f*cked off in the head and we generally tolerated it until one day she decided kids were not allowed to play in the courtyard.
She started harassing my son on a regular basis telling him he was not allowed to play in the courtyard. However I had an ace up my sleeve. See I took a real estate course a few years back and I knew that discrimination against kids in any way shape or form was against federal law.
Revenge time. I told my son to ignore her and play as much as he wants as late as he wants, granted he did his homework and his room was clean.
One day she had enough and snapped even going as far as to scream at all the kids in the courtyard. She then knocked on every door who had a kid and informed them that playing in the courtyard by kids was not allowed. When she came to me I simply asked her to hand it to me in writing. She did.
Needless to say, I hired an attorney and won. 6 figure sum of which 30% went to my son’s trust in his name.
The owner of the building stood by her side the entire time and so rightfully the suit cost him the building. He was forced to sell the building. The new owner hired me as the building manager. I was the resident manager for over two years.” Source
13. I Don’t Look Sick? OH, I’ll Show You Then
Pixabay
“This happened almost a year ago. At the time, I was taking a bus regularly to a hospital for chemotherapy, which left me extremely weak and nauseous.
So, when possible, I sat in the handicapped section near the front of the bus. Occasionally people would ask me to move. It’s a bus to a hospital, so a lot of people need the disabled seats, and I am young and outwardly looked healthy, after my hair had started growing back. Of course, they’d understand when I explained that I needed the seat.
Enter B*tchy Lady: a smartly dressed woman in her 60s. She asks me for my seat, and I explain that I just had chemotherapy and I need the seat.
She calls me lazy, calls me a liar, and tells me that I “don’t look sick.”
I am too exhausted and nauseous to deal with this bullsh*t. I’ve been trying to not throw up for the last half hour. “F*ck it,” I decide, and aim.
I puke all over her nice shoes. She screams and jumps back. I wish I’d said something witty right then but I was busy just puking.
She stood quietly, redfaced, at the other end of the bus, and left me alone after that.
In retrospect, I feel like an asshole for making the bus driver clean up my puke. I was too much of a wreck to help–I could barely stand up–though I did apologize to him. It was a spur of the moment decision and I didn’t really think that consequence through. But damn it was satisfying to puke all over that b*tch.
Thanks for all the kind words everyone <3 I have been cancer-free for 6 months now and getting stronger.
I’m going to take this brief moment in the spotlight to plug donating blood. It really helps cancer patients (and all sorts of other patients). I received several blood donations per month and each time it felt like coming back from the dead.” Source
12. Hook Up My Girlfriend, Not Me? K I’m A Food Critic From Now On
“We have this amazing Italian place near us. Their meatballs are of pork, lamb, and beef. Truly things that melt in your mouth.
The hard part is that my girlfriend is a very attractive Hispanic woman. The owners of this restaurant as I have heard are from Sicily. When she goes in to order our meatball subs they load up her order. Each sandwich has 5 of these wonderful mixed meats with parmesan cheese. Flirtatious happy Italian men ogling to fulfill her order.
Now if I go in to order the same (white man, blonde hair blue eyes) they are short with me, don’t offer options, and tell me the x amount.
I wanted to charge me extra for parmesan cheese. I literally get 4 meatballs per sandwich. When I get my food each sandwich is short a wonderful spicy meatball. The petty revenge A few days later I called asking for the manager. I told him that I was the editor of a popular food critic for the local paper. I went on to ask him several questions about their foods, menu, and pricing. At the end I told him that I had sent both female and male critics to judge their menu.
When I explained that our female critic was being hit upon and offered more than our male critic he went into full out damage control. I said I would publish my report in the next week. Of course that never happened because I wasn’t a food critic. Since then when I go in I get my 5 meatballs on my sandwiches.” Source
11. Don’t Want To Fly Your Drone More Safely? See You in Court
Pixabay
“About 6 or 7 months ago, my neighbor got a drone.
I don’t mind people having hobbies, but for some reason he insisted on flying like the biggest jerk possible. He would hover in front of other houses and windows, try to “race” cars going down the road, and worst of all he had a habit of flying his drone in my fenced back yard buzzing over my dog, diving low just over my dogs head before circling around to do it again. My dog isn’t small, he’s about 70lbs and a Malamute, but the drone terrified him, and I was worried about what would happen if it hit him.
I asked my neighbor several times to please not fly in my yard and explained that it was scaring my dog, he basically told me to get lost and laughed in my face. When it still continued, I called the police. Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do other than ask him to please not fly over my house/property. Finally, in late December it happened – my dog got tired of his sh*t and managed to catch the drone right as it was driving towards him.
He shredded the drone, the thing was just a jumbled mess of wires and plastic.
The neighbor was p*ssed. He stormed over to my house swearing and threatening me, which I ignored. A week later, I got a summons to small claims court – he wanted $900 for the cost of his drone and an additional $300 for supposedly denying him access to his property (the drone sat in my yard for a couple of hours before it was retrieved).
F*ck that. He could have killed my dog. I don’t have kids or a girlfriend, I just have my dog who is my best friend for the past 7 years. That dog has moved with me three times, was there when I graduated from college, saw me buy my first house and my first new car. I love my dog. I went to LegalAdvice, got some great help from them. Turns out, him suing me was the best thing to ever happen.
When we got to small claims court, the judge basically laughed away his claims that I had intentionally trained my dog to attack his drone. But little did he know I was prepared. I had dozens of photos of my yard showing it was impossible for him to “accidentally” fly that low to my dog, videos of him harassing my dog in the past, and I had saved all my medical bills from taking my dog to the vet.
$700 for an Xray? Check. Another $250 to sedate him during? Why not, don’t want him being uncomfortable. Full dental exam with tooth cleaning/repair? $400. Then there was the cost of anti-anxiety meds and a secondary check-up, wet food for a week in case his teeth were hurt, and extra just for good measure. In the end, the asshole ended up owing me almost $2,000, and now is being investigated by the FAA for not having a registered drone and violating several FAA regulations concerning drone flight, too near an airport, too close to other people, out of sight of the operator and way above the maximum altitude.
Enjoy never being allowed to fly drones again, d*ck.” Source
10. Put Marker On My Face While I’m Sleeping? No, Let Me Do It Myself
Pixabay
“When I was younger my sister and her friends would always prank me and my brother. She was 12 and we were 8. So drawing on our faces while we slept was one of their favorites. After they did it for the tenth time my mom got really mad and yelled at them, putting a stop to the markings.
But they would find other ways to prank us, like putting duct tape on our legs. I wake up one morning and find duct tape around my ankles for the 3rd time and my brother fell out of bed from it. This was starting to get old so we came up with a devious plan. We waited for the next time my sister had her pranking friend over and stayed up all night so they couldn’t do anything.
Next, just before everyone got up, my brother and I got black markers and scribbled all over our own faces. Fast forward an hour or two and my parents are up with their coffee. We come out with marked up faces and show our mom. Instant anger, she goes to yell at them all while they claim to have not done it. They barely got punished in the end but the yelling was enough for us and with that the pranking stopped.
I’m 23 now and this came up at a family dinner. My sister brought it up and my mom still didn’t believe her! She looked at me like my sister was crazy and I decided to tell her the truth. The look on her face while my dad is just cracking up!” Source
9. Want Me To Adjust Your Rate? Sure Thing, Bucko
Pixabay
“I work at a logistics company and my job is to find drivers to take freight from A to B.
I work with the same trucking companies a lot, but sometimes I get one-off drivers. This is one of those. A truck driver (TD) calls me asking about a load for the next morning coming out of Laredo TX going to Portland OR.
TD: What is the rate?
Me: We can pay $3,500 on it
TD: How about $4,000?
Me: Sorry, the customer is strict about the rate on this one. Has to be 35.
TD: Oh man, I need this.
I need to get home to see my son and my wife is sick.
Me: Then we need 35 on it. The customer will not go higher. The guy ends up taking it. If you think I’m being too hard on him, keep in mind there really isn’t a whole lot heading from TX>OR at any given time, so I could try to get him his rate but I’d risk losing the load to another driver. If he really needs to get back, why does he want to go back and forth negotiating on price and risk it?
The answer is because he’s full of sh*t.
The next morning I get a call from the customer saying that the facility that’s receiving the freight has been changed. It’s still going to be in Portland, just in a different place. Something like a 20-30 mile difference, tops. Should be a complete non-issue, considering the driver has just started a 2,200-mile journey, so it’s a drop in the bucket.
I call him back.
Me: Hey, just a heads up, receiver called to say that it’s going to deliver at a different address.
It’s XXXX, Portland, OR
TD: Oh well, you can send me rate confirmation with a little bit more money.
Me: … What do you mean?
TD: Agreement has changed, need to renegotiate.
Me: … seriously? It’s like a 20-30 miles difference from the original one.
TD: 20-30 miles is kind of long way to go.
Me: (humoring him) Okay what do you think you need for the new rate?
TD: Ehhh, $4,000 should do it.
OOOOOH REALLY? THE ORIGINAL RATE YOU WANTED HUH? WOW, WHAT A COINCIDENCE.
Me: Are you serious?
TD: It’s only fair.
I put the driver on hold just to spite him for trying to handle me like that, and I start working on something else. Out of curiosity, I check the address for the original delivery facility compared to the new one. Turns out the new receiver is actually 25 milescloserto the shipper in Laredo. New travel distance is 2,175 miles. I pick his line back up.
Me: Hey we will change up the rate after all.
TD: (very excited) Okay, send to me the confirmation.
Me: Okay, we ran the miles and the new receiver is actually 25 milescloserto Laredo, so we’re going to need to reduce the rate to $3,000.
TD: Wha…what are you talking about??
Me: Well, we’re cutting 25 miles off the trip and it’s kind of a lot of miles to cut. It’s only fair, right?
TD: Ahhh, ah hah hah hah… ahhhh so, ah that’s… yeah, so $3,500 still good?
Me: Of course it’s still good.
I’m not going to change the rate by $500 because of a 25-mile difference. I’m not an as*hole.” Source
8. Don’t Waste My Time, Or I’ll Wipe Your Phone
Pixabay
“I had just started working as IT Manager at a new company. It was going through a couple of changes and as a result, we had a new CEO maybe 3 months after I started. He wasn’t a bad bloke, just a little vague. But he did get a couple of his mates in key positions… Including the newly created Engineering Executive role.
EE shows up and I dish him out a suite of new toys for him to play with… Windows laptop, Google phone, etc. EE isn’t happy with this at all, he wants Apple. I told him that Apple products are unfortunately not supported, because 1) we don’t have a budget for them; 2) our apps won’t run on them, and 3) the IT team can’t support them. So no, you can’t have Apple products.
He takes them but is still clearly unhappy.
A week later, and he is b*tching for all he’s worth about the gear and starts complaining to his CEO mate. CEO comes to me and asks what the problem is – and I gave him the same response: 1) we don’t have a budget for them; 2) our apps won’t run on them; and 3) the IT team can’t support them. Fair enough he says. That seems sensible.
Another week later, EE comes by and chucks his now broken phone at me.
He demanded that I make his newly purchased iPhone work. The conversation deteriorated at that point, and CEO got involved. In the end, EE wasn’t going to expense the phone to the company, and he had to support himself. But I had to put in place a BYOD policy and allow the phone on our network. And so I did.
12 months pass by, and our relationship hasn’t improved. He wins some, I win some, and occasionally we come out even.
Other people start using their own phones, and I let them – as long as they follow the BYOD policy and have a device capable of supporting it. People come and go, and the leavers with their own devices stop by on their last couple of days for me to supervise the removal of the company account (and of course I block them in MS Exchange anyway), and tick the box on their leaving form.
And now for unrelated reasons, it’s EE’s turn to go.
I send him an alert – “hey, make sure you drop by in the next few days so we can go through the procedure.” No response, no visit.
And now it’s his last day. I send him an alert again first thing in the morning – “hey, it’s your last day. Make sure to drop by so we can go through the procedure.” No response, no visit.
By lunchtime, no response or visit.
By 3pm, no response or visit.
I found out that he was having a lunch party with his friends at the local bar and would be a while longer – 4 – 5 pm.
I typically finish at 6 pm, but today, I decide to have an early mark.. You know, to play with the kids, or whatever other excuse you want to hear. And by early mark, I mean right now. So I mark his exit form as “failed to attend”, disabled his swipe card access, locked his accounts, and reviewed the section on the BYOD policy I wrote about not being able to verify that company data had been removed…. And so I remotely wiped his phone.
I got a message later on that he was absolutely incensed that his phone got wiped – which of course made that Friday beer all the tastier.” Source
7. Give Us Better Service, And We’ll Give You A Better Tip
Pixabay
“A couple of months back, my boyfriend and I went out for drinks one night at this cool little “speakeasy” in Montreal. It’s actually quite an interesting place. You come in through a nondescript entrance and the place has a really nice vibe going on once you get inside.
Note: this is one of those bars where the server comes to your table and serves the drinks rather than one where you order at the bar and take the drinks back yourself.
We were seated at our table by the server. We ordered a couple of co*cktails. And then a couple more, and then a couple more after that. Each time we had to order, my boyfriend or I
would have to go fetch the server so he would take our order or go up to the bar, order, and then bring the drinks back ourselves.
Then, when it came time for the bill, I went up again so he would come to our table. He came and thought we were going to order again despite me clearly asking for the bill when I went up. So, he went back to get the card machine and it was another ten minutes before he was back. At this point, I was quite ticked off at the not-so-great service and was debating whether or not I should tip him.
The screen had an option for 10%, 15%, 20%, or “other.” I decided to just leave 10% as I wanted to avoid an argument with the server. Montreal service employees are pretty damn notorious when it comes to the expectation of tips.
Now, he prints out the receipt and takes a look at it and sees I left 10%. He then asks if we had a nice evening, to which my boyfriend responded that we did; we both thought it was just a standard question server ask so we didn’t bother telling him about the poor service received–especially because it wouldn’t really make a difference at this point.
The guy then says, “oh, well if you had such a nice time, then you should’ve left at least a 15% tip. Because, in Canada, it’s customary to leave a minimum 15% when the service is good.” I’m guessing the reason he felt the need to outline that’s how it is in Canada is because I’m a brown guy.
Now comes the petty part. I responded, “oh I didn’t know, why don’t you cancel this bill and redo it so I can tip you properly.
He said sure thing, just give me a second because the manager has to approve bill cancellations. Again, we waited a good 10 minutes for him to come back with the new bill. I was happy to wait, though, because once he came back, I put in the PIN and then selected the “other” option for the tip and left him 0%. He printed out the receipt and his look of disbelief was well worth it.
We got up and my (white Canadian) boyfriend said, “Our only tip for you is to give better service and not be so much of an asshole. In Canada, we don’t really like a*sholes.” Source
6. Can’t Take Note Of The First Warnings? K, Let’s Kick This Up A Notch
Pixabay
“I work in the IT department of a small school district. Parking is somewhat tight for us as we have five people and only five spots that are reserved for our building.
On Monday when I pulled up for work I noticed that there was a car parked in the senior director’s space, so he took the next best spot and so on and so forth until I was forced to park in another lot. Initially, nobody was upset as the spots aren’t marked as reserved (They are in their own lot directly outside of our building), so we left a post it note under their wiper saying, “Hi, the spaces in this lot are reserved for Technology staff only.
Please park in the visitor spaces Tuesday. Thanks!” And we left it at that.
Tuesday rolls around and this person is parked in the same space again! We’re a little annoyed at this point but decide instead to leave another note that was slightly more aggressive. “Do NOT park in these spaces. They are reserved.” We made some jokes about towing them and blocking them in, but decided against it in the end.
Wednesday, this morning, I show up for work and of course this person is back in that same spot.
As a department we decide that three strikes are enough and surround this person’s car with our own cars so they can’t maneuver away at all. It turns out that the person was a parent helping with a theater project and at three o’clock she knocked on the door to the building. She declared that we were “very funny” and should move our cars. We normally stay until four o’clock and told her that she could wait until then for us to move.
She began to swear and yell at us but we just shut the door to our building and went back to work. Four o’clock comes and we all clock out to leave. As I walk past her car she gave me the most delicious death stare that followed me all the way to my car. I guess we will just have to see if she parks there again tomorrow!
First Update: We did it boys! She’s gone and parked in the visitor parking like she’s supposed to and I didn’t need to walk a mile to get to work!
Second Update: the school’s maintenance department bought block letters to spray paint reserved just to clear up any remaining confusion.
I feel important already.” Source
5. A Wrong Wedding Card Says A Lot About Who You Are
Pixabay
“Here I am, working a Saturday evening shift at a card and gift store. (Think Hallmark, but not that brand name.) As anyone that’s worked, one can tell you, a good 50% of the customers are clearly en route to the event they’re buying the card for, and a good 50% of those people think that their lack of planning is your problem.
So I’m in the middle of assisting a customer when I see a Very Expensive Car pull up and park in the fire lane outside the store. A man in a Very Expensive Suit gets out of the car and walks in. Upon entering, he heads to the back without breaking stride and shouts “WEDDING CARDS?” I don’t think he even saw me, he just figured that since he’s the most important person in the world, there must besomeoneat his beck and call.
I’m mid-sentence with my customer, so I finish it before addressing him. Before I can, he actually used a little effort to find the clearly-labeled cards himself, which he politely informed me of with a “GOT IT!”
About 4 seconds later, he arrives at the counter, having obviously picked out the first card he saw. Maintaining volume, he respectfully requests to borrow a pen to fill out the card while he’s in the process of reaching over the counter to grab one from my pen cup.
While he’s filling it out, as I ring up my next customer around the space he’s taking up on my counter, I look down and notice that he’s addressed the card to at least one male name. I also notice that he’s picked out the one wedding card we sell that is unambiguously for a lesbian couple.
I saw no reason to trouble him with that information.” Source
4. A Little Office Microwave Etiquette Goes A Long Way
“Short but sweet. This person would put her food in the (only) office microwave and leave the break room while it was cooking.
She would never return on time and would give you crap if you moved her food out of the microwave to cook your own. She’d take anywhere from 2-5 minutes to come back after he food finished.
Attempts to talk to her about it met with pettiness. And pettiness begets pettiness…
After her food finished one day I waited a minute for her to come back and decided to add a minute to her cook time. After that extra minute was finished, The next guy in the microwave line did the same thing.
Then the whole line. In total, 5 extra minutes.
By the time she got back her micromeal was baked down to a piece of charcoal. (We knew she had more micro meals in the freezer so she would still get lunch). Her food was utterly ruined. She looked around for the culprit but we all just ignored her and played ignorantly.
Unsurprisingly, she never left her food at our mercy again.” Source
3. Mess With My Job, I’ll Mess With Your Life
Pixabay
“I worked for a great company that I really liked.
I am a nice person and get along with almost anybody except Murray. I don’t know to this day what it was about him but we just didn’t like each other. I was mature about it and would still work with him regardless of any personal feelings. I was up for a promotion and it was really only between me and another guy. This guy was very good friends with Murray. When I didn’t get it, another friend told me that Murray had personally went to the hiring manager and bad mouthed me and likely cost me the job.
The Revenge
I played to long game on this one. Murray is a bit of an alcoholic and would brag about knowing how to drive home avoiding check stops and getting pulled over. We had a staff party and of course, he gets really drunk. I stayed until he was leaving and called the cops, gave his plate number, and where to find him. He got caught, lost his license, and since he lived out of town, he almost couldn’t get to work.
Since he was leaving a work event, his manager got in hot water for letting it happen (his manager knew what he did to me and did nothing) and he got sh*t from his manager for it too. I almost cost him his job, he got a fine and lost his license. All that for f*cking with my career.
Revenge is sweeter when you play the long game!” Source
2. Tell Me You Run A Tight Ship? I Have Proof You Don’t
Pixabay
“So I decided to change my internet cable provider.
I had a date and time scheduled but the new provider never showed up. It was an early morning appointment so I called out of work. They missed the 8-10 am a window, so I called customer service and they told me they were running an hour late. Fast forward to 4 pm, and no one showed. I called customer service back and they told me that the technicians showed up to my residence and they couldn’t reach me.
They called my phone and cell phone multiple times and to no avail. So we reschedule, for tomorrow at the same time. And guess what? Another no show, but they told customer service the same thing that they banged on my door and tried got call me again – multiple times. After jumping through hoops I finally get the warehouse number where the technicians are based out of, and I reach a supervisor who told me that he “runs a tight ship and all the guys he works with wouldn’t lie to him” and went on to accuse me of fishing for discounts or free services by creating problems.
I try to tell him no one called me and no one came to my house to prove it. But he wasn’t having any of it.
Well, now, it’s the weekend. So rather than o fun things on. My weekend, my hatred fuels me to print out multiple copies of mat home and phone records and male gill 12-hour copes of my home surveillance cameras. After talking to upper management for a few days the following week and letting my displeasure be well known, I sen fin my “courtroom like evidence” (their words).
After some digging, management finds something interesting. Turns out those trustworthy technicians as have a habit of telling dispatch that their earliest appointments are not home, so they can come in a few hours later. At the end of the day, I got two deadbeats fired, their supervisor wrote me a letter apologizing for the way he handled the situation and corporate gave me 6 months free internet/cable and 24 months of premium movie channels.” Source
1. Call Me Careless? I’ll Show The World How Careless You Are..
Pixabay
Perhaps a tad more aggressive than petty revenge….
“This is a true story of merciless, relentless, selfish, vindictive vengeance.
I am aware of all the criticism that will come my way. Nevertheless I do not regret my actions, so do yourselves a favor and save that few seconds it takes you to type ingratiating judgment.
Some years back I stepped into an exam hall and got seated and all, waiting for it to start.
It was a tertiary-level examination, which made what happened next worse.
As everyone took their seats in the exam hall, the standard announcement came that no one is allowed to leave the exam hall and before the papers were given out, I suddenly remembered that my pen might have been out of ink.
I checked. It was.
So I immediately raised my hand and got the attention of the nearest invigilator.
This was a teacher who knew me, I took one of his classes and often played games or slept in them as I already learned what he was teaching elsewhere. By some rules I still had to attend the class and exam. He had tried to humiliate me a few times by asking me questions when I was not paying attention but I managed to answer them correctly.
I was otherwise never rude to him or made things difficult.
“Can I borrow a pen?” I asked.
His reply: “You come to an examination without a pen? Why did you bother to come at all? Don’t take the exam!”
Note he was not saying it with some stern look, he has a slight grin on his face.
I glared at him reflexively, I was not in a mood for jokes. Exam stress and lack of sleep.
“My pen ran out of ink and I forgot to replace it.”
“Whose fault is it you forgot? My fault? Why don’t you forgot to take the exam as well?”
I can only continue to glare at him and he gave me a smug look.
There were hundreds of people in that dead silent exam hall and all of them were staring at me.
I was well aware of exam rules in the institute.
“Any attempt to communicate with another student will be considered cheating.”
These rules were strictly enforced. I couldn’t just turn around and ask my buddy for a pen.
I needed permission to borrow that pen and he knew it.
I asked him again for permission to borrow a pen to take the exam.
“No.It’s your own fault you were careless. You’re so smart right? Take the exam without a pen.” I think he added a soft “haha” at the end.
To better illustrate what possessed me to such extreme measures later. It was my last paper and also my hardest and most important paper. I hated the subject but I pushed myself both physically and mentally to ace it. 72 hours without sleep after two weeks of exams, I was at my weakest and most stressed-out moment but I mustered my remaining strength to take this paper.
Which might be the key factor I forgot about my pen.
And there this guy was, smirking right at me with every ounce of mockery he could possibly show. Stepping on all of my hard work in front of all my friends and hundreds of other students, showing everyone see how helpless I am to watch him ruin my academic progress while he looks right at me and enjoys it.
All because of what? I wasn’t attentive in his class?
The papers were being passed out, and I sat there with the exam script with no pen like an idiot, I looked at him, figuring it was time he would stop this cruel joke and let me borrow a pen.
He widened his smirk and tilted his head in a manner toward me as if saying,
“What are you going to about it?”
Not only was he was serious about not letting me borrow a pen and making me get a zero for the paper, but he is also provoking me to make a scene on the spot and get myself into trouble.
He didn’t just refuse to allow me to borrow a pen.
He genuinely intended to inflict severe harm and humiliation on me while enjoying it!
But in a great feat of self-control – I did not snap.
I was FUMING and my face was red hot from anger and exhaustion but I composed myself and evaluated my options calmly. I ignored him, raised my hand, and waved at the next nearest invigilator until one came over, and she allowed me to borrow a pen.
Was it my fault that I didn’t make sure my pen had ink for an exam? Of course. I was careless.
But did I deserve to be deliberately humiliated like that?
Thankfully that was my last paper, with all the rage coursing through me it was really hard to focus.
Immediately after my exams, I had one clear goal in mind – To DESTROY that man.
Did I think he was a bad teacher who shouldn’t be educating the youth of my nation? Totally.
But I’m not going to give you some pretentious righteous crap to justify my actions since I’m anon.
I didn’t give a f*ck who he was going to educate next. I just wanted to inflict an immense amount of pain and suffering to him because all I could feel was a burning desire for revenge for what he did to me and I didn’t care whether it was through his career or any otherwise.
I went all out. Legally though. I’m a law-abiding citizen.
And also, one thing I never did do for revenge was involved, my parents. They held high positions in government institutes and I was sure some action would have been taken if they had made the complaint on my behalf. To be honest, because I knew it was a personal vendetta and not a legitimate concern that required the assistance of my parents and I felt that if I did I would become the stereotypical spoilt brat relying on the influence of my parents and any revenge I derive would be meaningless.
The first thing I did was speak to my primary lecturer and complain.
I articulated my injustice to her as firmly as I could and made it clear that I would pursue this matter all the way. She reassured me that she would make things right.
Guess what, he made a joke out of it, said I was at fault for beingcarelessand that he “just wanted to teach me a lesson” and would have let me borrow a pen later on.
Despite my objections she made me drop the complaint.
I went on to speak to the head of the department and even the dean of the faculty, shooting strongly-worded complaint emails about “unprofessional behavior unbecoming of a teacher in this fine institute” left right-center.
Eventually, the ruckus I made culminated in a meeting between myself, the dean and my mortal enemy, who painted a story of how I was an evil troublemaking student who constantly disrupts his class and he had tried in all his holy patience to educate in vain but he never gave up on me because he’s such a great educator.
Rubbing in my face that I was being immature for something that was my fault, sticking to his story of how he was “just trying to impress on me so that I would not be careless for important things in the future” and “I would have let him borrow a pen anyway”. The dean sided with him, and since I was allowed to take and pass the exam anyway, no further action was to be taken.
I was forced to shake his hand. While he gave me that smug smirk which he knows I know what it meant.
It was always a long shot to go through the system, I knew his actions seem mild, and it was by his actions that he was judged and given a pass. But it was not his actions that drove me, I wouldn’t have harped on it if he was just being strict or simply had a wicked way of imparting life lesson.
It was because I saw the true intentions of pure malice behind his actions that I would not forgive him.
I’m betting by now some of you are wishing the story ended here, and the antagonist (me) is defeated without fulfilling his evil plans.
Well too bad for you.
Holidays began and I devoted extraordinary effort to find a way to defeat my nemesis. I was a man of focus.
I read up on exam rules, school guidelines, ministry of education code of conduct for teachers, which I somehow obtained and even spoke to lawyers.
There was no opening in the opponent’s defense.
I was not ready to admit defeat, such was my thirst for vengeance.
I had to think outside the box.
So I went through his Facebook.
YEARS OF IT.
THOUSANDS OF PHOTOS AND COMMENTS.
METICULOUSLY.
He was a married man with kids, most of his content was beyond reproach, a few slightly suggestive comments at female students’ pictures but nothing that would get him into trouble. Some photos of being drunk but nothing that violates the ministry code of conduct.
I googled his phone numbers and emails, and then I ran them through every other search engine I knew again.
Pages upon pages of boring stuff at a car forum, trade listings, property sale, etc, I checked them all.
Then came one mundane looking forum post with his personal email..something about asking for contacts..I must admit I was just about to call it quits as I clicked it.
As I read the context of that forum post, fire from the depths of hell burned in my eyes.
Metaphorical horns sprouted from my head and I gave a cliche maniac laugh.
My nemesis had made one fatal mistake, one chink in his armor and I found it..
That forum, despite its random sounding URL, was a forum to discuss and advertise prostitution and his post asking for contacts, was in response to a review to some office lady escort!
He made the mistake of using his personal email (one that I managed to find anyway) there!
It was recent and upon closer inspection, there were multiple such posts and many reviews posted by the same user.
Looks like my nemesis was one unfaithful philandering pr*ck.
I found a vital opening and prepared to strike! But I reasoned I had to be thorough, anyone could have posted his email, heck he could accuse me of doing it, between the words of a squeaky clean family man teacher and a student with a well-profiled grudge against him, my odds were not good. I had to shackle him to that account publicly and let it be the proverbial stone that sinks him.
I contacted this local news website, it reported on sensational social news and wasn’t really respected, such as neighbors caught physically fighting on videos, nutjob hurling vulgarities randomly in public. However it got some uniformed personnel in trouble when they were photographed sitting on seats in the metro reserved for handicapped and pregnant passengers, so you could see why I chose them.
They were enticed by the possibility to do an expose on a teacher of one of the nation’s famed institutes and agreed to meet with me.
Expectedly, they had concerns about the legitimacy of the teacher’s ties to that user account before they would publish it.
I told them of a plan to bait him into using his mobile number to identify himself as the owner of that account. They were reluctant initially, but after reading the explicit contents of his reviews in that account, I convinced them that it was their journalistic obligation to expose him.
We cooperated and implemented the plan.
I had factored the possibility that he would have used a second number for his perverted hobbies that couldn’t be tied to him and all my efforts would have been for naught.
But after scrutinizing his behavior, I felt it was more likely that he only used one number and deleted incriminating messages.
And I was right, that mistake would cost my mortal foe dearly.
Without going into details, the enemy fell into my trap, hook line sinker, he SMS-d a number we had prepared and confirmed that he was the owner of the username from that forum and wanted to get contacts for an escort.
I requested that the website staff exclude mentioning me or even a student in their story.
They went with an anonymous tip.
Then came the day of reckoning when the story came out and I landed my figurative deathblow on my mortal foe.
He never knew what hit him.
My only regret was I was not there to see his face when it did.
It was still the vacation and the URL to that story spread around, it had his name, face, and screenshots of his user account reviews and the SMSes tying him to it.
It wasn’t headlines or anything, but as far as the school was concerned, it was like 9/11 happened. Guess who was Osama in this scenario?
His Facebook account was closed down, and he “couldn’t be reached for comments” but it was too late, the website had all they needed.
I’ll never forget that delightful afternoon I shed so many tears of sad*stic joy just reading all the online comments calling for his blood. Many students also came out speaking against his teaching ethics.
Words like “pervert” “disgrace” “disgusting” “fired” were thrown about in this sweet symphony.
As the enemy fort lay ablaze and in ruins I stood atop admiring my hard-fought victory. Although words fail to describe this feeling, can you feel it just a little, my dear readers?
By the time the new semester began, he was gone like the wind. He became a hot topic for everyone to gossip, including the teachers, one of whom told us he was going through a divorce.
I could have let go of what happened that day at the exam hall, been the bigger man yadda yadda.. but I am not that man. I am a man who willfully chose the satisfaction of vengeance over virtues and I got a teacher fired.
And I unashamedly, unapologetically, (albeit anonymously) admit:
IT FELT SO GOOD!!
But I wasn’t done.
I remembered when he bullied and humiliated me then rubbed it in my face at my most helpless and vulnerable.
There was one last thing I had to do.
Text.
“Dear Mr ___,
I understand now the importance of the lesson you were trying to teach me.
If only you heeded your own words.
It’s your own fault for being careless.”
I never got a reply.” Source
Aside from that last one, we had some pretty bang on stories that hopefully brought a smile to your face! Especially the “I DON’T TALK TO MEN IN RESTROOMS” dad. There are some goodies in this one! Got any to share? Tell us everything!
