I worked for a smaller business in 2020, I was an assistant the the office manager and accounts payable manager. Both were clearly 1. old 2. wanting to retire and 3. assholes.

I knew I would not be there forever because I hated interacting so closely with them both. My OM's plan was to train someone younger to eventually either replace her or help with the transition of someone new by having someone there who knew how to do what she did.

She was always ornery and always looking for problems, I got used to it. Then one day she calls me into her office and shows me this report I gave her, and she just goes off about how the numbers don't make sense and etc. As I am listening and also looking at the report I realize she's not reading it correctly. She finishes her spiel and I point to the report and explain she didn't see this part and her reply was basically "Ok, but if you HAD made that mistake it's like what even is the point of you working here.". I was so stunned. I hadn't done anything wrong but I am still useless?

I went into my office and cried, packed everything up and went home with the intention of no-showing but then decided I would be professional and give my 2 weeks. To my surprise the AP woman said she'd love to give me a reference!

I applied to jobs in a new city and reached out to the AP woman and she replied it was actually against their policy to give references. I knew it was because my OM told her not to. They didn't have HR let alone any policy on that.

Anyways, I had a retirement account with them. OM told me to roll it over or withdraw. I said I would. I never have. A year later she reached out again, please withdraw or roll over. I said I would. This has happened every year since I quit. I get a letter in the mail letting me know about their investments, that all recipients of their 401ks get, she reaches out to me asking me to please do it and I just never do.

Thinking about how overwhelmed she often was, and how many bills and letters they send out, I feel pretty good when I imagine my name coming across her desk every year for no reason other than making a little more work for her. lol

This happened in the early 1990s. I (23M) was a medical representative and the patch I covered used to be covered by my boss. He and I never got along and I disliked him intensely. He didn't want to hire me but the national sales director insisted that he did so I assume his dislike stemmed from that.

This guy is also completely incompetent as a people manager. In the days he field trips with me, I learnt nothing. All I got from him was unfair criticism.

Anyway cutting to the chase: I had submitted my call reports for the week and handed them in with my colleagues on Friday afternoon before having a few beers and heading home.

My boss called me at about 6:30 pm and asked me to come in on Monday morning at 8:30 am sharp. I asked him why but he refused to expand. He asked me to cancel my Monday appointments and just to be in the office at 8:30.

Naturally I sweated all weekend wondering what the hell was going on. I rang my colleagues, all of whom I got on with very well, and none of them were asked to come in Monday. By Monday morning I was stressed to the max and very upset.

I went into his office and he asked me about a doctor meeting that I had on the Wednesday. He said to me, "I see you've written here that you met with Dr. R. Jenkins. Well I know Rob really well and I called him to see how your call went. He said he didn't meet you and hadn't seen you for about a month. Can you please explain yourself because this is a sackable offence?"

I was furious and went dead quiet and really cold, responding: "I did see Dr. R. Jenkins on Wednesday. But it wasn't Rob Jenkins. It was his sister, Rachel."

My boss flustered around a little before he said Rachel's last name wasn't Jenkins, it was Smith. I explained that she had gotten divorced and taken her maiden name back. Needless to say I got the day off and ended up playing golf.

About three months later we had a national sales conference. It had been a long week and everyone was absolutely exhausted. After dropping some of our colleagues off at airports, we all headed home. It was about 4:30 pm on a Friday and my boss rang me and asked me to come in along with my other colleagues for a debrief. This time we were all absolutely furious about him dragging us all back into the office late on Friday afternoon after an exhausting week.

That night I called all my colleagues individually and asked them all to call our national sales director to complain. They did and I did.

Our sales director called us each individually on Sunday night and told us that our boss had been fired and to come in on Monday morning to meet our new boss.

We all lived happily ever after. No regrets.

TL;DR: A guy I was seeing gave me herpes, treated me like shit for months, and then threatened to have me kicked out of the bar where he performed because he didn’t want me around. So I decided to become a regular, befriend practically everyone there, and completely ignore his existence. I later found out that my presence had been causing problems for him and his girlfriend the entire time. Meanwhile, I accidentally made some of the best friendships I’ve had in years.

This happened between 2024 and 2025, when I was 20/21F. It’s a bit of a long story, but I think the context is necessary to understand both the pettiness and why I felt so justified in it. In spring 2024, I met a guy on Tinder. Let’s call him Tim (then 22/23M). We hit it off pretty quickly, hooked up, and started seeing each other casually. As it turned out, we both attended (my college) and studied (my major), although he was two years ahead of me. I thought he was cool, handsome, interesting, and generally someone I wanted to get to know better. I was also pretty impressed by his work, especially since he was further along in our program. Unfortunately, about a month after we first slept together, I developed an excruciating genital herpes outbreak. Fever, horrible pain, couldn’t sit or walk comfortably, the whole nine yards. I went to urgent care, got diagnosed with HSV-1, and was prescribed what felt like half the pharmacy.

Naturally, I called Tim. He was the only person I’d slept with during the relevant period, so I was pretty confident about where it came from. His initial response was to suggest that maybe I’d given it to him. Eventually, he told me he’d also tested positive and contributed a whopping $40 (I had spent $100) toward my medical expenses, but only after his supposed diagnosis. At the time, I genuinely believed he hadn’t known he had herpes beforehand. This becomes relevant later.

The diagnosis absolutely wrecked my self-esteem. I knew logically that herpes wasn’t the end of the world, but emotionally I was having a terrible time. And because Tim supposedly had it too, I developed this unfortunate attachment to him as someone who understood what I was going through. Thus began roughly nine months of the most emotionally exhausting situationship imaginable.

Tim was incredibly hot and cold. He’d pull away, I’d establish some boundary or end things, and then he’d reappear wanting to hook up. At one point I asked for exclusivity, he declined, and I ended things. A week later, he wanted to sleep together again. I said no. Then my grandfather died, and shortly afterward Tim suddenly proposed exclusivity. The timing was so bizarre that I rejected him. However, a few days later, while I was grieving, I ended up at a bar where he regularly played music with his band. We talked, he walked me home, and spent the night comforting me without sex. It was probably the most genuinely compassionate he’d ever been toward me, and unfortunately it convinced me to give things another chance.

We tried exclusivity, I eventually admitted I had feelings for him, and he promptly decided he didn’t want exclusivity anymore. Lovely. Later, he told me he was still in love with his ex and compared the two of us, describing her as stuck-up and me as down-to-earth. Which was an interesting way to tell me I apparently tolerated more bullshit. By the end of the year, my mental health was in the gutter. I was depressed, insecure, and exhausted, and he was well aware of that.

Over winter break, Tim became increasingly distant. When we returned in January, I tried arranging a conversation with him, but he kept blowing me off. I asked whether he was interested in someone else or dealing with family problems. He told me it was family stuff. That Friday, I went to the bar where he performed (let’s call it the Dive) and, to my surprise, saw him there with another woman. We made eye contact. He knew I’d seen him. I felt physically sick.

Now, Tim and I had an established pattern of talking after his Sunday performances whenever something needed to be discussed. So that Sunday, I went to the Dive intending to have one final conversation. I wasn’t trying to get him back. I just wanted to tell him that he could’ve been honest with me instead of lying and avoiding me.

I was watching the band and chatting with a girl standing beside me when Tim approached me during a break, absolutely furious. He told me I wasn’t going to get a conversation out of him “that way” and threatened to have me kicked out of the bar. I was genuinely dumbfounded. I’d been coming there for months, knew people there, and wasn’t doing anything remotely disruptive. Later that evening, I saw him being affectionate with the woman from Friday. I went home, sent him a lengthy message about how he’d treated me, and blocked him.

About three weeks later, he contacted me through Instagram to apologize. We met up, and he explained that he’d been angry because he thought I was trying to talk to him while he was performing. Mind you, I was speaking to the girl beside me, at a volume he couldn’t even hear from the stage. Apparently, he saw my lips moving while I was looking toward the band and assumed I was addressing him. Why on earth would I try to have a conversation with someone actively performing music? I found the assumption rather self-centered, but whatever. The apology was thoroughly unsatisfying. He suggested we could be friends, and when I told him he’d actually have to demonstrate that he was capable of being one, he responded, “I have nothing to prove.” We exchanged some more unpleasant messages afterward, and I eventually blocked him for good.

But the confrontation really stuck with me. Not because I wanted him back, but because of the sheer audacity. This man had spent months treating me poorly, had apparently moved on to a happy new relationship, had graduation approaching, and was going to leave town with his life perfectly intact. Meanwhile, I was dealing with the consequences of our relationship, including a lifelong diagnosis and some genuinely awful mental health. And on top of everything, he apparently expected me to quietly disappear from a bar I already frequented because my presence made him uncomfortable.

I kept thinking, Why am I the only one who has to suffer? Why does he get to do all of this and then expect me to just go away?

So, after about three weeks of stewing, I came up with a plan. A petty one. I was going to become a regular at his favorite bar. An extremely well-liked regular. And I was going to ignore him completely.

Now, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy initially. Seeing him with his new girlfriend had made me physically nauseated, and I didn’t want to spend my evenings feeling like that. So I decided I needed to develop an iron gut. I was going to get comfortable seeing him, whether he liked it or not. I also knew he was graduating in May, so this little operation had a natural expiration date. I wasn’t planning to spend the rest of my life tormenting some mediocre man.

I started going to the Dive regularly, especially on Sundays when his band played, but also on Fridays because I genuinely enjoyed the place. I made a point of befriending the bartenders, the regulars, and people I recognized from previous visits. I already knew some of them, so it wasn’t particularly difficult. I’m a social person, and I actually really liked the crowd.

As for Tim? Nothing. No eye contact, no approaching him, no attempts to interrupt his performances. I didn’t even acknowledge his existence. I occasionally got the impression he was watching me, but I deliberately avoided trying to figure out how he felt about my presence. That was important to me. I didn’t want to spend my evenings monitoring whether my revenge was working. I wanted to enjoy myself. If he happened to be uncomfortable, wonderful, but I wasn’t going to make my happiness contingent on his reaction. A particularly funny incident occurred a couple of months into this when I was sitting on the patio and struck up a conversation with a girl who was smoking alone. We got along quite well, and eventually her friend joined us. When she asked what I studied I told her my major which prompted her to ask whether I knew Tim.

Turns out I had accidentally befriended his girlfriend.

I had never gotten a particularly good look at her face, so I genuinely had no idea. And now here I was, chatting with the one person Tim would probably least want me talking to. She was actually very sweet. She asked about my history with him, and after explicitly saying she was open to hearing my perspective, I told her about some of his behavior. I wasn’t trying to convince her to leave him. I told her that if he treated her well, I was genuinely happy for her, but that she shouldn’t tolerate the same treatment I’d experienced if things deteriorated. Then I realized the band was probably about to take a break. Fantastic. If Tim came outside and saw me talking to his girlfriend, he was absolutely going to think I’d orchestrated the entire interaction. And, naturally, approximately two minutes later, he appeared.

What am I supposed to do? Cower and run away??? Then that makes me look ten times more guilty. So I planted my ass there and tried to avoid interacting with him directly. Keep in mind he initiated every verbal interaction.

We exchanged an awkward hello and a few words about school. He was very affectionate with his girlfriend, which was fine by me, that stayed in my peripheral. At one point, someone suggested he give me a cigarette, and I said, “No, he wouldn’t.” He confirmed that he wouldn’t. Then, completely unprompted, he interrupted another conversation to ask whether my nails were real. They were. I have no idea why he was suddenly interested in my manicure, but that was the last time we ever spoke face-to-face.

Anyway, as the months went on, something rather lovely happened. I genuinely started enjoying myself. I became friends with the bartenders, the older regulars, people in the local music scene, and even an older couple Tim had originally introduced me to. Sometimes I’d go out and barely spend anything because people kept buying me drinks. I started running into people who knew Tim independently, and some had their own rather unflattering opinions of him. I didn’t need to persuade anyone to dislike him. I just listened.

And eventually, I stopped caring whether he was there. Initially, I’d had to steel myself just to walk into the bar. A couple of months later, I was showing up because I wanted to see my friends. Tim was becoming increasingly irrelevant to the experience.

There was even an incident at school where we were about to take the same elevator, and he apparently decided he’d rather take the stairs. Which I found hilarious. Enjoy your cardio, I guess.

May came, Tim graduated, and he left town. And I kept going to the Dive because, by that point, it had become one of my favorite places. I’d developed a genuine community there, and I wasn’t about to abandon it simply because the original motivation for going had disappeared. I assumed that was the end of the story.

But a few months later, I found out my revenge had apparently worked. That fall, I ran into someone from Tim’s old band. We started catching up, and eventually he asked whether I still spoke to Tim. Absolutely not. Then he casually mentioned that my presence at the bar had apparently been a source of considerable tension. According to him, it had affected the band’s atmosphere and even contributed to arguments between Tim and his girlfriend.

I was genuinely surprised. Not because I’d never suspected my presence bothered him. That was, after all, the original idea. But because I’d never actually tried to find out. I hadn’t been asking about him, checking on his relationship, or trying to provoke reactions. I’d just been hanging out with my friends. I did apologize to the bandmate for any discomfort the situation had caused the other musicians, because that genuinely hadn’t been my intention. But internally? I was rather delighted.

And then, because apparently this story needed one final layer of bullshit, I learned something else that fall.

Remember the herpes diagnosis? And how I’d believed Tim didn’t know he had it before we met?

Well, I’d previously posted about him on an anonymous dating-review app. When I checked it again, two women had commented. One said she’d hooked up with him while we were still involved and that he hadn’t disclosed having herpes. Another woman, who’d known him before I did, reported contracting oral herpes after being involved with him. According to her, Tim had known about his HSV status since December 2023, months before he met me.

I can’t independently verify his medical history, but hearing these accounts was infuriating. I’d spent more than a year giving him the benefit of the doubt, believing he hadn’t known. Meanwhile, when I was first diagnosed, he’d had the audacity to suggest that perhaps I’d given it to him.

I was furious all over again, but I didn’t contact him. I had nothing left to say. And honestly, I think that says quite a lot about how far I’d come.

Look, I know some people will read this and say I was obsessed or giving him too much power. And I won’t pretend I wasn’t emotionally invested at the beginning. I was angry, hurt, and frankly in a pretty terrible place mentally. I wanted him to experience some discomfort because I thought it was profoundly unfair that I was left dealing with everything while he got to move on without any apparent consequences.

But I wasn’t trying to destroy his life. I didn’t interfere with his performances, confront him, or attempt to sabotage his relationship. I simply refused to disappear from a place where I had every right to be.

And yes, I knew my presence might bother him. That was the petty part.

The funny thing is that somewhere along the way, the revenge stopped mattering. I had initially gone there to make him uncomfortable, but I ended up making myself comfortable instead. I made friends, regained some confidence, and stopped feeling physically sick at the thought of seeing him. By the time I learned that he’d apparently been bothered by my presence, I didn’t need that information to feel satisfied.

Would I do something like this now? Probably not. I’m in a much better place mentally, and I don’t think I’d feel the need to. But at the time, I was in the trenches, and I needed to do something with all that anger that wouldn’t drag me into an even darker place.

I wanted him to understand that he couldn’t treat me however he pleased and then expect me to quietly remove myself from his world for his convenience.

So I stayed. I made friends. I had a great time. And eventually, he left.

I suppose the best revenge really is living well. I just happened to do it somewhere he could see me.

I posted this story on a different subreddit but I figured this story would fit here as well!

Alright so some backstory, there is this shopping center near my city that has so many cool things. I love going there monthly and have found my specific stores that I like to shop at. I never have any problems with the area except for one thing, I will always be followed around. When I first started going there, I honestly didn't think too much of it because I was new to this area and I just assumed they didn't want anything stolen (the store did sell some expensive items and it is easy to steal if you really tried). I ended up going to this store and several others for the next two years, and while I never had any issues with them, I would still be followed around. I was getting pretty frustrated by this because by this point I had become a sort of regular customer, and would usually come out with something each time.

Before anyone asks, I still went to this store because they specialized in items/decorations that I can't find anywhere else, plus some stuff they have marked down for pretty good prices I can't find anywhere else.

One day, I was in the store per usual and I had this one man follow me around again. This wasn't anyone I hadn't seen before, but this time he was actually making me uncomfortable/agitated with how close he would be and how he would literally follow me around every time I turned or stepped somewhere. He was getting close to the point that anything I even pointed at, he would come and start "fixing" it. That's where I finally had enough and got the bright idea to start following him, in which I did. I immediately went to where he was standing at and stood right next to him and just stood there looking at whatever he was looking at. He pays no mind and leaves after 2 seconds, in which I then follow him to the next place he was at. He's at this new area and once again I go and stand directly next to him and just look at the items he's looking at. This time, I can tell that he's noticing what I'm doing because his hands start to look like he doesn't know what to do. After a few seconds of awkward silence and him trying to see what he could "fix" he leaves and goes to another area, and what happens next? I followed him to that area AGAIN and this time even started to grab one of the items he was "fixing" and started to act interested in it. By this point I think he knows what I'm doing because after this he just goes to the register and stays there for the rest of the time.

After all of that, I pay for the one thing I decided to buy that day and go home. Now when I left the store itself and got to the car, I was honestly cheesing at myself for the fact that I actually did that, especially since I hate confrontation or being rude to people in general. I wondered if the next time I went to the store if I would be followed again, which surprisingly enough he never did.

What shocked me even more was that ever since that day, the guy would never follow me around the store again and was instead actually nice to me. Before when I would come in he would never acknowledge me or anything except follow me around, but now when I came in he would say "Welcome to *store*" and even "Thank You for Coming in". The biggest shock was when I went to that store again for their re grand opening (they renovated/expanded the store more) and I bumped into the man who turned out to be the owner of the store, and he gave me a nod like he was in my way and went on to whatever he was doing. I felt like I had been being given a nod of approval from a strict parent.

Ever since then, anytime I go to any stores and see someone following me around in the sense that they think I'm trying to steal, I just pull that same move and every time they leave me alone without fail. Weirdly enough, I would get treated better from doing that which I honestly never understood. Thank you store owner guy for unintentionally teaching me to better stand up for myself haha

Posted this as a reply earlier, thought I'd make it a post.

I'm in a small town with just three lumber yards / hardware stores. I only really shop at one, which is just a block away from me.

I've spent probably around 80,000 there over the years, plus at this particular point i had a 25,000 credit there so my contractors could get stuff for a reno project. I know that isn't a big spend over 15 years, i know i am not any sort of big fish. But I'm a reliable, regular customer.

I have long hair, but older (50ish), i was dressed rough (working around the house), i was at the store to get some plumbing supplies.

I'm in the plumbing aisle, hunting for the correct metal elbow, straight, and T ends. And i notice a newer employee is like... standing DIRECTLY behind and to the side of me. So close i can hear his breath. I look at him, and he's being a bit smug.

So i asked what's up. This fucker starts telling me "oh, I'm just checking nothing end up in your pockets". I ask why on earth would i go out into the world to steal plumbing parts, and he says something about how he knows what "you guys" use to make pipes "for smoking dope". Well, fuck this

Now, being a bit of a weed smoker myself, i know how to make a pipe out of anything. But I'm not a broke kid any more though so i use art glass for pipes, not plumbing parts.

There are other people in the store, people i work with, my neighbors, etc. I felt gutted.

I just turned away and walked straight to the owners office, which was just around the corner. "Hey Josh, how are you today? Great. I think this guy you hired has something to tell you. Talk to him before i walk out of here and never comes back".

I felt lucky it didn't happen at a big chain store, any complaints i made would have been ignored. Instead, the new guy learned that some of the most beat-up, filthy customers are rich farmers or, like me, just small town, dressed down weirdos who buy everything there.

And i got to go home with 25 bucks worth of plumbing parts for free. I should have made a pipe with it.

*this is not my revenge, but revenge I witnessed - short, sweet and delicious (literally)*

I used to be a first responder. The place I used to work for required us to be duel certified (medical license for more than one state). This was because, on top of typical 9-1-1 calls, we had special contracts for things like - organ donation rides, NICU baby transfers and other highly delicate patients.

I am not sharing this to be like "big man, do manly things... RAWR". But to paint a picture of how volatile a shift can be. On top of this, the place I worked for was... the worst. Truly. Two brothers with daddy's money really failed to provide a legacy. We were over worked, under valued and taking on more contracts than we had staff. The call volume was back-to-back to back. Always.

One day, after doing our truck and supply check, I walked into dispatch to see who was working and grab radios. While I was in there, someone had found their breaking point with the BS.

They walked in with no words, stood in front of the dispatch supervisor, slammed down a bag of gummy pee-pees (they had to have ordered, which means they planned this which makes it ten times funnier to me) and told everyone to "suck a bag of d!ck$". And then walked out the door without another word.

I wasn't my full self then... but I felt like a proud dad at that moment. Someone used a pun and found their boundaries? Kudos.

For context I (F25) work at a fuel garage. I'm 5'3" and the guy in question was about 6'. I'm in the UK where people pump their fuel and then come inside to pay/pay at a window etc. We have a store connected to our garage and the main till is the centre of all operations, from here we turn on pumps for customers, take fuel payments, bag shopping etc. We have a bunch of rules that we need to follow for turning on pumps when people pick up the pumps. One of these rules is never authorise a pump if the car is running or if a biker is able to just hop on and ride off. The sub rules of this policy means that the bike rider needs to be off the bike, with the engine off and the helmet removed. Its a policy, we need to follow this or any drive offs come out of our wallet.

So anyway, the story. A guy (let's call him A) pulls up on a bike and tries fuelling with his helmet on. I ask him to remove the helmet and he's screaming across the entire forecourt despite me being unable to hear him as I'm in store manning the main till. I continue serving as he barges into the store upon filling his bike.

A: Well thats childish, my helmet is open faced.

Me: well its our policy I'm afraid I cant do nothing about it.

A: well its dumb, it's an open faced helmet.

Me: well it's policy. It doesn't matter what type of helmet it is, i have to follow policy.

A (starting to shout): Well that's childish, I don't believe you.

Me: Well, it's policy. Your fuel comes up to £10 please pay.

A: Well, that's childish.

Me: Your card was declined sir, please insert it. Again, I can't change the policy.

A: Well, I dont believe you. It's childish, it's extremely childish, it's open faced.

Me: Well that's our policy.

A: I don't believe you.

Me: It's still our policy even if you don't believe me.

A (after storming halfway out the door then stomping back towards me): Well, it's fucking childish. I don't believe you.

Me (now visibly frustrated as I had just tried to serve a new customer) You know I hate to agree, but yeah, I do think you're being very childish.

A (before catching on and trailing off: yeah, I know...

Me: glad we agree on something then.

He then stormed off and I hope my backchat made him stop to think and I hope more people are being hired into jobs where they can defend themselves against customers. Because jeez some people are dumb. I've worked customer facing jobs since I was 16 and this job is easily the worst. Since this incident last week ive had 2 other people rant at me about that policy. One even asking me "well what about cars?" And i genuinely had to stare for a second before I could manage to muster up a response of "do you know any car drivers who wear helmets? We make them turn off their engines."

Anyway, on that note i hate people.

Years ago; a buddy of mine told me about when he was doing drywall work at a big housing tract project. (west coast U.S.)

There was more than one crew working there and they had different units assigned to them.

He said that he came to work one morning and found that someone had crapped in the corner of one of his units instead of using the Port-A-Potty. WTF!

He wrote it off, but then found that it continued multiple days afterward.

I don’t remember the specifics, but he knew which crew was doing it and it was malicious, so he decided to get even.

In case some of you don’t know; in the drywall trade there is a device called a “bazooka”. The operator loads it with drywall compound and tape and then runs it over joints to apply the tape and mud at the same time.

My friend went to the job site one morning; found another pile in the corner; scooped it up, and when the time was right, he went to the crew’s unit and packed it into one of their bazookas.

I can only imagine how awesome it was when the operator and crew witnessed the bazooka smearing the nasty paste on the fresh drywall.

Nobody ever confronted him, and his units were never violated again.

Cheers!

I live with my parents in an upper middle class gated neighbourhood with a pretty strict HOA. One of the weird rules it has is cars are not allowed to be parked on the street except if someone gets a guest pass from the HOA. The point is there’s no one parked in the street.

The section of the neighbourhood I live in is a cul da sac, specifically the house on the right side before the semi circle. As a result, a lot of the guests of the two houses in the semi circle park in front of my house (as well as the house across the street but mostly my house). This would be fine if it was a few guests every now and then or during holidays. However, people have been parking in front of our house multiple times a week from before 9 am to past 7 pm. It’s a bit annoying but whatever.

When it gets to be a real pain is on Sundays. Sundays are trash days. Basically every week, I go to roll our trash cans down only to have to put our trash halfway down our part of the sidewalk since at least one person is parked there.

Today was the last straw. I was starting to take the trash can down our driveway only to see a woman getting outside of her car parked literal inches from our driveway. She says hi to another neighbour taking his trash down while walking to a house while I was standing in disbelief with my trash can. There is no other car on the street. I go inside to ask my parents where I should put the cans and my dad says I can put them in front of his car since he won’t be going out tomorrow morning.

As I wheel the trash can by the woman’s car, I get an idea. Since she thought it would be fine to park literal inches away from our driveway to the point that someone pulling out of the garage would have to be careful not to hit her, I’d thought I’d do the same to her.

I take the green waste bin (which is heavier and has branches sticking out) and put it inches away from the front of her car. Far enough that it’s not touching the car but close enough that she either has to back out or move the green waste bin. I then put the trash can a normal distance away from the green waste bin. My dad saw where I put them and said I was definitely passive-aggressive about it but he agreed with my frustration.

Maybe she and my neighbours will get the message about parking right next to our driveway and taking up all the space in front of our when they have the rest of the street to park.

I (17F) have been new to this high school since last year and it's been pretty great, the teachers are kind and are clear at explaining, while the students are also pretty nice, except for this girl, whom I find absolutely insufferable.

Fortunately, she's changed classes this year, which is great, and I'll tell you why:

She was kind of a pick me, always trying to get the attention of the boys in our class by making 67 and Epst3in jokes (like the babies thing being joked about so casually) and so on, which made it hard for me to focus in class, since she sat right behind me. It's important to keep in mind that I'm autistic with ADHD, so it did annoy me even more to hear her nagging.

She had the highest grades in our class, which genuinely made me think "if a girl, who thinks these types of jokes are actually funny, can get grades this high, maybe I've got a shot" and it actually worked, even though I wasn't used to studying, especially not this much. I wish I was making this up, but I actually studied 14 hours straight once and didn't even shower because It was very late, once I was done.

Long story short, we ended up being the very few to have A+ for the biology, Italian and English literature exams.

I will continue to study hard, even if it's not because of this girl, but because the teachers have a lot of trust in me and want to make sure I take full advantage of the support I receive, and to enjoy these last two years, before I eventually graduate.

Edit: for those who are confused that I'll be graduating at 20, It's because Italian students graduate at 19, but I've expressed myself wrongly and was including the last school grade from a few months ago. I apologize for the absolute confusion.

This happened a couple of years ago, but I was reminded of it recently. I worked a job at a really tiny company with a boss who was nice to your face, but completely incompetent. To the point that he literally said “that’s not my job” about running a register that had probably been there as long as he had that he had no idea how to use. When I first started, he had recently moved into his office, which hadn’t been used in a while, and mentioned that he hadn’t found the keys for it yet. Well, this job involved me sitting around by myself for literally hours alone waiting for customers. In the back office, there was a huge basket of random keys that I started going through one day to find what they went to. Not all were successful, but I remembered my boss’s lament and decided to try the unknown keys on his door. Lo and behold, I found a match. Unfortunately for him, I pretty much only worked on Sundays and never saw him in person, so I put the key on an empty keychain I found laying around and stuck it in the back office desk. A couple weeks later, I was fired without notice and without a reason given (technically I was still on probation). I never told my boss I found a key to his office, and to my knowledge he still doesn’t know that said key is sitting maybe 50 feet away from the door. I can only hope that he never finds it.

EDIT: I had been planning of telling my boss about this key before I left and hadn’t had the chance to. I actually really liked this job, but the manager in question was bad enough that I had been thinking about quitting anyway. I have a much better job now. The field I work in is really small and local and I had a friend recently quit their job at this same place explicitly because this guy was so bad at his job. I don’t think about it much, but it made me chuckle knowing that the solution to a minor inconvenience he mentioned is sitting so close and yet so far. Also, I was fired via email on my day off not by my boss, but by a random person in HR I never met before. I called my boss to try to get feedback and arrange a time to turn in the keys I did have, and I got the most corporate generic answer via email. I had every intention of telling him about it before I left and had the chance to, but didn’t.

I live in a block of flats opposite a hospital. Our car park gate has been broken for years and a handful of hospital staff have started parking in resident’s spaces and being snooty when challenged . The residents have had enough of the audacity and entitlement; we’ve written to the hospital, put notes on people’s cars and getting the cars towed would be illegal here in the UK

A few months ago I went to a pride event and saw a heap of rainbow bumper stickers reduced to clear with the slogan “I’m so gay I can’t even drive straight”. So I bought the lot and messaged the other residents, asking me to tell them if there was a car parked in their space that wanted a glow up.

I’ve put three of these fabulously gay bumper stickers on cars so far, Bonus points if they reverse into the space and might not see it immediately.

It’s dumb, it’s petty, but it makes the neighbours laugh, and the guy who got the latest one just contacted the guy who’s space he parked in to say he won’t do it again. 🌈

Honestly, not sure if this qualifies as petty cause everyone ended up having a good laugh about it later on.

I should establish some key things.

1) So tradition in my Christian family is that when we have big gatherings (including aunts/uncles and cousins) for big events like Christmas, new years, or a combined birthday, we have this short time before dinner to read a bible passage, sing one hymn, and pray.

2) This specific year, the youngest member in our family was my niece from my brother, who we’ll just call…. I dunno…. Sara. She was 2 at the time and had a good grasp on speaking.

3) The prayer before dinner is usually a rotational duty that’s shared among my grandma’s children. That being, my dad, two of his brothers, and one sister. While my uncles and aunt like to keep prayer short, my dad has a habit of making the prayer quite long. One time we was clocked at praying for well over five minutes (It was during Covid and 75% of his prayer was for health and safety for the world)

This one particular Christmas, it was my dad’s turn to pray for dinner. About a good 2 minutes in, Sara couldn’t wait any longer and said out loud “Grandpa pray too long. Everyone is hungry.” My dad immediately stopped praying and was just silent from embarrassment. Prayer ended right there and we all started dinner.

At the end of the night, we were relieved to realize my dad wasn’t upset about the whole thing. But since then, he’s kept his prayers under a minute. All because my adorable niece called him out on it.

I am very proficient at parking my small car. I live in a condo with underground parking. My neighbor's parking is shit and seems to only give it one shot before calling it parked. He'll sometimes be a couple inches from the line, or sometimes touching it. It doesn't bother my parking process, but it annoys me when people park poorly.

So, every time I catch him near the line, I'll park close to the line, too. Since he also backs up, if I park as close to the from the line as him, he won't be able to get in the car without going through the passenger side.

He'll park properly for a while, but he will slip. To my advantage, I work from home a couple days a week. If I catch him on the day before I have to WFH then my car may not move for 2 days. I think after all this, his parking has gotten consistently better, but he he'll still crappily park on occasion.

EDIT: grammar

For those who want to follow along on a map, this is in San Francisco ... I am traveling east on California Street from 15th Avenue toward 14th Avenue. A half block past 14th Avenue is Park Presidio which is a main commute artery running north/south. North, it goes to the Marina district (where I was headed) and Marin County. South, it goes to the Richmond district, the Sunset district, and cities south of SF. It was rush hour, and cars were backing up at lights in all four directions.

There is a turn lane on California to turn left (north) onto Park Presidio. One block north is Lake Street and then Park Presidio turns into a freeway, no exits for about a mile.

So, I see that California Street is way backed up waiting to turn left onto Park Presidio. So I pass the cars in that lane and fortunately the person in that lane who *could* have blocked 14th Avenue has left enough room for cars to cross California on 14th.

I figure I will turn left onto 14th Avenue in front of that car, then turn right onto Lake, and 1/4 block from there I can turn left onto Park Presidio and get right onto the freeway portion of it, and even if cars are backed up waiting to turn onto Park Presidio, at least I will have gained a block of progress.

So, I signal to turn left onto 14th, traffic is not going anywhere so I am not cutting anyone off in the left turn lane, but as I inch my nose out all of a sudden some guy in a beat up old car (you know the kind, so old, and always parked in the sun, that the gloss has completely worn off) ... comes roaring up California from the same direction I had come from (15th Avenue) except he is driving in the opposite lane. He honks wildly at me as he sees me proceeding legally on 14th across California, then makes a wild left turn in front of me onto 14th, cutting me off, then roars off toward Lake Street. I follow him (since that's where I am going anyway), he turns right onto Lake and just like on California there is already a line waiting in the left turn lane to get onto Park Presidio. He is probably car #5 and I am car #6 right behind him.

The traffic lights favor Park Presidio so the red light is very very long, we are all sitting there, then our light turns green. Nobody moves in our lane because pedestrians are now crossing Park Presidio, then when the pedestrians are clear, cars are coming from the opposite side of Park Presidio. Finally, as the flashing counter is counting down, three cars ahead of us are able to turn left. The countdown is now at 5 seconds and I realize that a$$hole (AH) and I are going to have to wait through yet another light change.

Then I get a flash of inspiration, check the lane to my right, nobody is coming, so I signal, get into that lane, hit my accelerator, and cross Park Presidio legally on the yellow, leaving AH stuck in the line as his light turns red. Then, knowing AH can see me do this, I go 1/4 block farther to where there's a break in the double yellow line at the T-intersection of Lake & Funston (which would be 13th Avenue if there were one, but I guess the City founders were superstitious), make a legal U-turn (this all happens in mere seconds), then zip back the 1/4 block to Park Presidio. At this point, there are three lanes of traffic on my left waiting on Park Presidio to cross Lake and get onto the freeway, but here in San Francisco there is always a delay between one light turning red and the perpendicular light turning green. So I have maybe a second or so to come to a legal stop, throw on my turn signal, and turn right onto Park Presidio before the oncoming three lanes of traffic overtakes me.

So I do that!

By the time AH was able to make his turn onto Park Presidio? I was over a mile away.

Felt very good!

A couple of years ago, my family and I lived in an apartment complex that had been steadily going down hill due to constant management changes. We went from a gated community to the gate being removed. It got to the point the police would only come of they could guarantee that there was a violent crime as noise complaints were nearly constant, which brings me to my situation.

We were there for about 6 years from mid-2016 to mid-2021. We had neighbors move in and out so that was nothing new. One set of neighbors started off fine like most people. We had never met or seen them, but we knew they were new because it had been nearly silent in that unit for a few months before a moving truck came in. Hearing voices and the occasional music and ahem nightly extracurriculars was normal for this complex. But these people liked to party at random times throughout the week. Sometimes it was on the weekends, which we didn't mind too much, and sometimes it could be like 3am on a Monday morning, and anywhere in between. And I mean these were the types of parties you would expect for New Years.

For a few weeks, we had complained to the leasing office about it. They said they would handle it but nothing had changed

We even tried to go to the opposite side of the building to find their door and ask them to turn it down, but the complex was built in a way that you couldn't hear noise from another unit outside the door, but it was easily heard inside. Because they always did it at crazy early hours, we couldn't get anyone to come check it out. We even recorded the noise using a voice recorder on our phones and nothing changed.

After one VERY bad weekend, I had a nasty idea. We were going to be out for the entire weekend, so I decided fire with fire. I booted up my computer, found a 12-hour loop of a very irritating song (it was either Rebecca Black's Friday or Baby Shark, I can't remember), downloaded it with audio software, and put it into Windows Media Player to repeat once it was finished. I also bought some speakers and put them right against the wall for maximum effect. Right before we left, I queued it up just loud enough that it couldn't be heard by anyone else.

I believe we went to an amusement park and stayed at a hotel. When we got back two days later with the music still playing. The complex never said a word about the incident. We didn't have any more issues with noise out of them. About a month later, we saw a moving truck, and it was silent in that unit for a few months. I've never lived in an apartment complex since.

ETA: My wife just got back from her trip. She confirmed it was Rebecca Black's Friday.

2nd ETA: I'm a fan of Oz's Vault, LostGenre, Charlotte Dobre, and Mark Narrations, and I realized I had one good petty revenge story. Also, this was in Charlotte NC. A simple search around the University City Area can lead to the complex I'm talking about.

Another petty revenge story reminded me of my version of this.
In the early 90s I was in college. I lived in an old 2 story dorm with wood floors & high ceilings. The only time loftable furniture is a good idea. It was girls only after 9pm and quiet hours started at 11pm on weekends.
We could hear the upstairs room clomping around because of the wood floors and our beds being at the ceiling. Freshman year it was fine. Sophomore year it was bad. They routinely clumped around until 1-2AM on weekends. We had a couple conversations with them about removing shoes, etc. Nothing changed.
Well one Tuesday I had an organic chemistry exam at 8:30am. They decided to learn tap dancing at midnight. Would NOT stop even after we asked them to quiet down. The RA asked them. They just wouldn’t remove their shoes.

So, I decided turnabout was fair play. This was 1991. I knew their dorm phone number. There was no caller ID. So I called them. Starting at 7:00 AM. I could hear them climb down the ladder and walk over to answer. So I hung up. Waited to hear them climb back up. Called again. Repeat. We did that on & off for about 4 days every morning. They didn’t want to miss a social call so they didn’t turn off their ringer for any extended period. We probably called them outta bed 20 times.

They finally came down to our room and we called a truce.

Not all hero’s wear capes 🤣
The other day, a friend messaged me because she saw that someone was impersonating one of my best friends on TikTok. He’s a tattoo artist and has a decent following. Let’s call him “X”

I followed the new account to see the videos since it was set to private, and then messaged him directly on FB messenger to make sure he didn’t set up a new account, and he confirmed it was an impersonator.

I was going to leave it at that, but then the impersonator FOLLOWED ME BACK and messaged me as if they were a stranger, and not someone I’ve known has known since 2011.

So, I asked my friends permission to troll them. And so the story begins…..

Scammer: Hey! What kind of tattoo are you looking to get done?

Me: X! Omg long time no see! I’ll actually be in town in a few months! You got time in your schedule to get me in for that tattoo we talked about before?

Scammer: Hey!! Omg it really has been a while, it’s so good to hear from you! 😊 I’d love to get you back in and finally bring that tattoo idea to life. Let me know what month you’ll be in town and we can look at my availability and get you scheduled. I’m excited to catch up and see how we can make that piece come together.

Me: I’ll be up in December for the holidays. Will you be working over Xmas break? Around December 21st-29th?

Scammer: Yes there is 22nd and 29th available if that’s fine with you I can get you my waiting list

Me: What times on the 29th? I’ll be flying back out and we know how BWI has been lately 🤣

Scammer: Or should we do 26th

Me: The day right after Christmas will be tough

Scammer: And 27th or afternoon 28th

Me: But if your mom doesn’t mind having me over, I’d love to see her again for a quick visit!

Scammer: Yes sure you are welcome 🤣🤣
🤍

Scammer: You are only to put down a fee of $150 which also goes toward the actual price

Me: Omg. I hate how all these apps are connected. Look at what FB is showing me now 😂

[Here I sent them one of Facebook’s “11 years of friendship” memories featuring me and the REAL N.]

Me: It KNOWS 🤣🤣🤣

Me: And of course. Should I just Zelle you to the regular account?

[They didn’t respond for a little while.]

Me: I haven’t sent it yet. Just let me know.

Scammer: Hey 👋

Scammer: No do you have chime or Cash App by any chances ?

Scammer: Sorry I responded late I’m available now and my zelle isn’t working atm

Me: Gotcha. Yeah. I can cash app. What’s your @

Scammer: Should I request from you or you will be sending direct ?

Scammer: And please resend me your mobile number

Me: I’ll be sending direct. What’s the @???

Me: You deleted my number? 🥺 I can just text you again, unless you got a new phone number???

Scammer: Oh I will never do that I had issue with my phone so I got a new phone number and new phone

Me: Oooh. That makes sense. What’s the @ for cash app so I can send you the deposit?

Scammer: [PHONE NUMBER REDACTED]

Me: Oh that will work!

Scammer: That’s my new number send me a text with your email address again

Scammer: I will send you the link to my Cash App

Scammer: Should I send the Cash App to you here or you sent me a text already ?

Me: Just go ahead and send it through here.

Scammer: $(cashappredacted)

Me: My text service is being wonky

Scammer: Let me know once it went through

Scammer: What yours mobile number ?

Me: It’s saying that cash app is someone else. You sure that’s right???

Scammer: Yes sure that’s correct

Scammer: (A) correct ?

[They then replied to the Facebook friendship memory I had sent earlier.]

Scammer: 😂😂 Facebook really be exposing everything at the funniest times. It’s crazy how those memories pop up out of nowhere lol

Me: Yeah. Who’s A???

Scammer: That’s the new apprentice so she handles the payment due to me been busy sometimes

Me: Oh wow. Look at you Mr. Bigshot with his own apprentice!

Scammer: Oh lol

Scammer: Is it sent ?

[About an hour later.]

Me: Yeah it’s sent. What’s Arielle’s last name so I can add her instead of bugging you again?? I wouldn't want to bother you when you’re so busy.

Scammer: Hey

Scammer: Are you here ?

Me: Yeah! Don’t worry about it though! I just found her instagram account. I’ll add her there!

[They heart-reacted to this.]

Scammer: Okay can I have the picture of the payment you sent v

Scammer: Good

Me: Sorry. At work. Hang on.

Scammer: Ok

Here is where I have ghosted them. I thought about mocking up a fake payment screenshot (I do a lot of digital design and art so it would be easy) but I think that might end up getting me in trouble for faking payment, even if they are wrong in the first place.

She actually had her cashapp in her profile on her instagram account, and even though it was set to private I still got her name.

Either way, I sent all the screenshots to my friend and hope it’s enough evidence for him to go to the police to file for identity fraud or something.

Don’t mess with my friends 😘

I did this on my phone so apologise for any mistakes.

This happened last year

I work for a very large construction company.

We have a bitch in accounts that is a 9 to 5, dead on 5 she leaves the building.

She is one of those people that is sweet and nice to your face but would stab you in the back the next second.

One morning I had to take a document to the post office as it had to go by special delivery,  I tagged this on to the beginning of My lunch bake so I went to the post office and then to lunch ,by the time I got there and had handed in the letter and paid I still had 10 min to go before my lunch bake, there was no point going back to the office as by the time I got there it would be time to leave again so I headed home, sweet an extra ten min! 

Anyway after lunch I head back to the office, take the receipt to the Bitch  in accounts and think no more of it.

Later on I get our account director come down and chew me out as the Bitch in account had complained I was taking an hour and a half lunch as she had seen the time on the receipt

I told him that wasn’t true and it take me a good 15min to get to the post office then I have to hand the item in, pay ect which take up time  anyway I got chewed out for taking 30 Min extra on my lunch brake, in stead of the 10 I actually got  very unfair.

So I sat on this a few days seething, and then finally the opportunity came around.

We have self receipts that are printed by account and given to me to hand out to each sites QS  so we can prove our contractors have been paid. now the thing is they are very time consuming for the Account department as they have to hand put all info  into our system from the Invoices our contractors have given us, then printed out as the self receipt, these are done  at the end of the month it can take days to do it. As there are thousands.

Each person in our account department are allocated site they are responsible for  they are also very important, I am not quite sure why these are important but it as something to do with being able to prove we have paid our contractors.

A bunch from Bitch in account turned up on my desk to be handed out I split them in to two piles, handed one pile out to the Qs’s and got a bin bag and dumped the second pile in the bin bag tied it up took it outside and dumped it in the bin. The bin went the next morning

A day or so later the QS came to me and said, “did you give me all the Self Receipts?”, I replied  in an innocent voice , “I gave you all the ones I had why are some missing?”

“Yes about a hundred.”

I grinned inside, bitch got chewed out for missing over a hundred and had to stay behind to redo them it took her an extra 5 hours.

No one every found out, to this day I still get rid of a few of hers from time to time just to make sure she dose a bit of unwanted overtime

I smiled Gleefully as I left the building that night, while watching her in the window still working away, when I know she hated staying behind and I was totally responsible for her not being about to leave on time.

This is from a few years ago. I just remembered it.

Some context: I (23/f) stopped believing in the same religion as most of my family. It was a gradual change for me, but it was a drastic change for them. It lead to a lot of arguments and they forced me to defend my own beliefs. Things calmed down are (mostly) okay. Except for my sister.

She had a group of people that she would text with Bible verses, daily prayers, etc. I had asked her multiple times to stop, she always said she would, but never did. I had just gotten off the phone with our dad and a particularly heated argument. Then she texted me with a Bible verse. I couldn't yell at her because my anger was directed at our dad, and that wouldn't be fair.

But I was still pissed that she constantly crossed my clear boundaries about this. So I googled a quote from the Satanic Bible. Something about how people have started to idolize TV or something like that. She LOVED it, and even asked where I got it from. I told her the truth, the Satanic Bible.

She was NOT happy. Started going on about how I was spreading word for the enemy. That I put my soul at risk. That it was blasphemy. But you know what suddenly stopped? Those god damn texts from her.

Edit to add because the comments are unlocking more of this memory: I was living on the opposite side of the country at the time so I didn't get to see the fallout. Apparently her reaction was A LOT. It caused her some serious mental and emotional strain. Our mom had to get involved to calm her down. While crying to our mom is typical of her, her actually NEEDING the support was shocking. So when my mom called me, I knew it was bad. She told me to stop sending the texts. I told her it was the once, and that my sister needed to stop. My mom said my stunt guaranteed they would. That my sister was blaming herself for me following Satan. I don't wanna go into more detail because I don't wanna expose her mental breakdown online.

Mission accomplished. Maybe over accomplished?

Back in my uni days, I lived with two friends and one did a foreign exchange semester, so she sublet her room for half a year and this young policeman in training rented her room. Not only was he a bit of a pig (go figure), but he also loved to play his music pretty loudly at night.

Talking to him didn't help, the landlord would have said that a sublet is the original tenant's problem, and the original tenant was two countries away. I didn't want to move out over this because I knew I would be suffering for only a few more months. Yeah and I hope nobody asks why I didn't call the police for disturbance of peace on him.

So after another time of him blasting music after 23:00, me asking him to cut it out or wear headphones as I had class at 08:00, and him making a joke that uni students should be partying more and whining less (and then slamming the door with no change in music volume), I had enough. I lay in bed fuming, scrolled revenge stories on my laptop and brainstormed.

The next day, I went out and bought a seamripper. Did I destroy his whole wardrobe? Of course not, that's against the law! But he may have started wondering about the shit quality of his clothes. Especially if he did laundry and hung it out to dry after a nice, long night of listening to his music, it must have seemed weirdly prone to gradually splitting along the seams, often at the crotch and butt.

This I watched at the airport a month or so ago.

I was going through TSA. This lane has the 4 little lanes where you put all your stuff in a bin, push it to the middle row, and then the conveyor belt automatically moves from the middle row to the back row where they roll into the scanner.

TSA is very clear that you dont walk away till your bag clears the first row and you push into the middle row - then you can go through the scanner.

(I hate these setups personally but it is what it is).

So ahead of me, a lady who worked in the airport goes through - she puts her purse and lanyard and such in a bin, and walks off through security, leaving her bag in the first slot.

The TSA agent decided to not touch that bin, nor to let anyone else touch it. So for the next 8-10 people we all used the other 3 lanes, passing our stuff on. This continued after we went through the scanner, he continued to leave it untouched.

Meanwhile the airport work lady was on the other end of security waiting for her bag, and waiting and waiting. As we went through she is starting to get agitated and trying to get attention of the TSA workers to figure out how her bag has gotten lost. Meanwhile her bag is still sitting in the first bin slot.

I dont know how long this played out, I got my bags and headed for the gate - but if nothing else this airport worker lady probably learned a lesson about how to use these lanes!

A couple years ago after my partner and I both had hard days at work, finally got the kids bathed and in bed then collapsed on the couch. Partner asks for ice cream. I check, none in the freezer. "How bad do you want ice cream?" "Really bad". Ok, I'm off to the store.

It's late. There's a few cars scattered across the lot. I pull into the closest spot... Right next to an emotional support raptor f150. The thing is like 12 feet wide, and is parked fully 2 feet over the line, pulled-through the wrong way in an angled row. I carefully pull in to the adjacent spot, exactly down the middle, leaving like 2 inches between my door and this truck's driver side door.

I chuckle at the tomfoolery of it all, climb out the passenger side and get my ice cream, regretting that I'll be in and out before Mr Overcompensation gets a chance to appreciate my parking prowess. But my regret was unfounded.

Lo, stalking around the back of my car to take a picture of the license plate was... Well exactly who you're picturing. 5'5" middle-aged man with giant biceps, a barrel belly, and legs that had never met a squat rack. "IS THIS YOU?!! WHY THE F#@K?! WHY ARE YOU PARKED LIKE THAT"

"Parked like what?" I say, admiring how precisely-centered my car is in its spot. "Between the lines?"

Shouting, he puffs out his chest and moves to block the 2" gap between the driver sides of our vehicles. I suppose it would not occur to him that someone would be so undignified as to enter the passenger side and climb over to the driver seat, but I am exactly that undignified.

Some days you need a win, and the only way to get there is being petty. That ice cream tasted really good.

EDIT: Diagram for people who are struggling to picture this via words alone: https://i.imgur.com/w36HC60.jpeg

This is something I did about 1 1/2 years ago.

My wife and I were at a Target, sitting in the car waiting for our daughter to wake up from a nap (a few months old at this point). This lady wants to pull into a spot behind us, a few spots down, but someone left a cart in the spot. Instead of walking the extra couple of feet, she full speed pushes the cart towards the cart return that we were parked next to and hits our car. At first, I thought someone backed into us but realized what she had done. She goes into Target and I decide to get some petty revenge. I grab a few zip ties from my roadside assistance kit, walk the cart over to her D/S door, and put 3 zip ties through her door handle and the cart.

I go back to our car, pull a few rows over, and watch the hilarity ensue. She comes back out after I'm assuming a return and is just perplexed, goes back in and comes out with the cart handler, they go back in and a supervisor/manager comes back out to have a look, and finally some random guy has a knife to cut the zip ties. We went in, did our shopping, and when we came out her car was still there.

Was it petty? Sure. Did it delay her an extra 15 minutes? Absolutely. Did she learn her lesson? Probably not

This is going back like 15 years ago but, I needed dental work, my insurance was maxed out (dam $1k limits), so I went in, I told the dentist that I am clear, I have a max of $400 that I can pay, no more work than that.

I sit down in the chair, and even confirmed it, next thing I know he did a bunch of, while you're in there things.

I get back to the person to pay/setup an appointment with and she tells me the bill for today is $1200. I was like I told you both that my limit was $400, no more, she said "Well he did the work so this is the bill". I said I have $400 to put down as I said. She took payment and would bill me the rest.

For the next 4 years, when I got the bill, I would send $1, no more. No late fees because I was making a payment, so just very little would go to it.

I get a call 4 1/2 years later from someone in the office, telling the doctor passed away. She asked me, why have you been paying only $1 a month? I told her the story, that I authorized $400, I paid that but, the bill was $1200. She said, oh, and she just wrote the balance off (no credit effect here), and she said she was sorry that happened.

Edit: no effect from them writing this off, it was on their documents only. A few people hit on this that it would be seen as income, but, nothing in my taxes, or notifications via mail of issues with taxes.

EDIT 2: This was put on Apple news, I don't have access could someone copy it or something so I can see it?